I wake up to the ring of a bell. I know that bell; I've rung it myself. It's Bella's doorbell. And this is Bella's bed I'm lying in. In a heartbeat it all comes back to me.
I fell asleep on Bella.
My eyes fly open, and my heart starts to race. She's not here. But her smell is. And the memory of this morning starts to flood my mind in an absolute mess of confusion, along with a rush of adrenaline. I try to bring order to the chaos, but I can't. Pictures are flaring up in quick succession, but there is no timeline to them. My mind is jumping back and forth between them, struggling to keep up with the physical sensations coming with them.
For a minute I can only gasp, unable to move.
Bella in her bathrobe, its edges parted over her thighs as I kneel in front of her... I thought I'd pass out, but I didn't. She lead me to her bed. And Bella in her kitchen, the coffee maker, the exposed skin of her neck. No, that was before. Before, right. Right?
And Bella laughing, was that before or after I thought I'd pass out? Before or after? My stomach is in knots. I can't decide whether it feels good or bad, it just FEELS. And I can't stop thinking, 'before or after, before or after...?' It does matter, right? Or does it not?
The bell rings a second time. The sound of it thankfully kicks me out of my mental loop. I bury my face in the pillow. Bella's pillow, Bella's scent... more images come rushing in, more feeling, more Bella. I reach down to wrap my hand around my erection, and I am burning again.
Bella kneeling before me, naked. Bella on top of me, grinding against me, kissing me. Her tongue in my mouth. Her tongue on my skin. Her legs spread, her sex opened for me beautifully. Her taste. Her face. And her voice, calling me home.
(there you go...)
I'm burning, and I can't hold it in. My hand merely twitches and I spill myself on Bella's sheet.
For one precious moment, I am taken to a place of perfect peace where all thoughts stop spinning. No need for order, no need for control, no need for things to make sense. No answers are needed, because there are no questions. Light, heat, beauty, zero gravity, love, Bella...
I moan my love for her into the pillow; then the moment is over.
I sit up and toss the blanket aside, instantly sobered by the sight of the mess I just made in Bella's bed. She will be upset about it, won't she? What was I thinking? I wasn't thinking at all, that's the problem. The mashineries of my mind were out of control, and they still are. So irritating, so wonderful.
I grab the next best thing, which happens to be my t-shirt, and rub at the staint on the sheet. I can hear Esme's voice; she's here. She's asking for me. I forgot about the breakfast. She'll be upset, too. How could I forget about the breakfast? I never forget a thing! Maybe I am sick; I feel a little feverish. But it doesn't feel bad, just like being hyper-aware of my body... no, it doesn't feel bad. Not sick then.
The rubbing is totally futile; this needs to go into the washer. I tear the sheet off of the bed, but I have no idea where to put it, so I just leave it on the ground for now. Also, I should get dressed and meet Esme. And Bella. I quickly put on my underwear and jeans; thankfully my penis is almost soft again. I try real hard to not let my mental Bellascope get the upper hand again. This is just not the time.
I hear Esme ask whether I am here. Which is weird... where else am I gonna go? Then I realize I not only ruined Bellas bedclothes, but also my shirt. Again I am irritated at myself for my lack of organization, but that doesn't help me further now. No shirt then.
I leave the bedroom and the first thing I notice is the smell of breakfast-on-a-no-school-day. Breakfast-on-an-Easybella-won't-come-here day. It's Esme's Sunday morning bread. The flashback is gone as fast as it has hit me. I'm not ten years old anymore, and this is not Esme's kitchen. I'm eighteen, I'm at Bella's, and I made love to her. I'm fine.
Esme addresses me. She seems confused. Of course, she is... I forgot our breakfast appointment. Bella looks uncomfortable, too. What's going on? I'm getting nervous; it's like I missed something important, and I hate missing links. I always assume it's been me, like I have messed up without noticing. I haven't even said anything about the bed sheet yet. I want to hold Bella's hand. I miss her hand.
"Have you been here all night?"
That's Esme. I shake my head no. I wish I had been here all night, but I wasn't. No, I wasn't. I waited until the time was... appropriate. Bella explains it to her, too. But she is not listening; I can see that. She's focused on me, trying to read me.
Oh, I know that face. I've seen it so many times. When she picked me up after school, or when she waited for me after my logopedics class. It's Esme's were-the-other-kids-nice-to-you face. It's the face that says, 'I'm worried about you', 'I'm ready to kick someone's ass if necessary' or 'You skipped your dose of Zoloft again, did you?'.
She has no reason to give me that look. I'm fine; she's got to see that. Why won't she stop scrutinizing me? I'm fine, just wonderfully confused but fine. I just fell asleep; Bella told her so. I fell asleep because I was exhausted from all the excitement and anticipation of the night, and all the feeling this morning, and the love. Almost too much feeling to bear, and too much love. But I'm fine. I was spent, that's all. And the love-making...oh, the love-making! Bella didn't tell her about the love-making... of course! That's easy to fix; I just need to tell her. And I really want her to know anyway.
"We made love."
See? I'm fine, no worries...
I understand Esme wants us to have breakfast together at Bella's. Us, as in her and Bella and myself. I think she finally understands, and I'm glad that she isn't upset. I'm also glad to be saved from a dilemma; now I won't have to decide whether to leave Bella or to disappoint Esme who clearly was looking forward to spending time with me today. I would have hated both. But if a decision had to be made, I would have stayed here because I really need to touch Bella now, whatever Esme-face this might have earned me.
And no matter how hungry the smell of her Sunday bread is making me. And I am really hungry.
I step closer to Bella who hasn't said another word yet, and reach out for her hand. But Esme interrupts me; she picks up her basket and says something about setting the table and asks, "why don't you go and put some more clothes on, so you can eat with us in a little more decent attire?" This is directed to me, and the laundry problem comes back to me instantly.
I nod my agreement to Esme and take Bella's hand, finally take her hand, and I want to moan because this just feels so right. Although my stomach suddenly is in tight knots all over again, it feels so right. I squeeze her hand lightly, and the image of the wadded bed sheet on Bella's bedroom floor is blown out of my mental focus like tumbleweed. Just like that. All I can do is look down at our joined hands and smile.
"Edward? Please go and don a shirt, darling. And then come back and join us for breakfast. I promise, we won't go anywhere while you're gone."
I let go of Bella, reluctantly so. And I give Esme another nod, with the smile still lingering on my face. I can feel it, not only on my face... it's a whole-body smile. It's warm and sweet, under my skin and everywhere. An Easybella-induced smile.
"By today, if possible?" Esme scolds, but she's smiling, too.
I hurry back to the bedroom and collect my scattered socks and footwear. While I put them on, I can hear the women talk in the kitchen, but I can't make out what they're saying. I'm eager to join them, yet I need to go to my apartment to fetch myself a fresh shirt. And to take care of the stained stuff – I will put it into my own washer. I don't want Bella to get upset with me.
When I enter the kitchen, a small but well-laid breakfast table greets me. The sight of it makes my stomach growl so loudly that Bella and Esme both look up at me, freezing for a second before they burst into giggles. I can't help but smile again; they are... funny!
Esme lets go a sigh, "I guess we all know now you're hungry, Edward, but where's your shirt?"
I point at the bundle of fabric tugged under my arm."It needs to go into the washer, as well as Bella's bed sheet," I explain and cast a glance at Bella. Her eyes widen, and then she hides her face in her hands. My heart sinks; she is upset, just like I feared, and I'm getting anxious. "Please don't worry, I'll take care of it upstairs; I'll be right back." Gonna fix it, Bella...
She's still not taken her hand off of her face. This is worse than I thought. She is really, really upset! Esme reaches out to rub her shoulder but is looking at me, as she says, "You do that, darling. But hurry up, so we can eat eventually, ok?"
Suddenly I don't want to go anywhere, not even for a few minutes. The urge to drop everything and pull Bella into my arms is overwhelming. But I know I have to. I need to fix this. I turn on my heels and run.