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“You don’t care,” she snapped, breath trembling, trying to wrench herself from his hold. “You say you do, but you won’t even-” Her voice cracked. “You won’t even touch me. Not like I want you to.”
Edward didn’t let her go. His grip wasn’t forceful-never that. It was steady, patient, like stone warmed by sunlight. His fingers rested lightly on her arms, a gentleness that only made her more furious.
“I love you,” he said quietly, and that alone made her flinch.
“You’re always saying that,” she bit out, eyes shining with frustration. “You say it, but you never let yourself want me. You never let me in.” Her voice was sharp now, louder than she meant it to be. “I feel like I’m starving for you, and you- you just sit there, so perfect and calm, like none of it touches you. ”
His expression didn’t change. He just watched her, like he always did- like she was the most fragile, most precious thing in the world. But something flickered behind his eyes then- something fierce and aching.
“I love you,” he said again. The same words, but not the same. This time it came out like a confession, like a wound. “More than I know how to explain. More than I can live with, most days.”
“Then show me,” she whispered. “Please. I don’t want perfection. I don’t want safe. I just want you.”
Edward was silent for a long moment. The silence stretched between them, taut and breathless. His eyes dropped to her lips, lingered there, then rose again to her face- so full of longing, her cheeks flushed, eyes wild with hurt. He reached up slowly, cupping her jaw like she was porcelain.
“Bella,” he breathed, and it was reverent. “You have no idea how hard it is- for me to be near you, to want you the way I do, and still keep you safe. Every time I touch you, I have to remind myself what I am. What I could do. One lost second- and I don’t know if I could stop.”
She rests her palm on the back of his- still cradling her jaw and leans into it firmly- desperately- as if her warmth could melt through the frozen walls he wrapped them in, as if her closeness could prove he didn’t have to be afraid.
“But I don’t want you to stop,” she whispered, urgently. “I want to feel you. All of you.”
He let out a soft laugh- more exhale than sound- and for a second, his smile returned. That crooked thing that made her knees weak and her heart rebel against reason.
“Oh, my darling,” he murmured, with that infuriating, disarming sweetness that always made her forget why she was angry in the first place. “That’s not what I meant.”
She stared at him, tears brimming, caught between anger and longing and a love too big for her chest. And he sat there like he always did-an unmovable thing, full of light and restraint, that hurt to look at.
Then he leaned closer, just enough that his forehead rested against hers.
“I feel everything you feel, Bella,” he whispered, voice like velvet-wrapped steel. “And more. Wanting you isn’t the problem. It’s wanting you too much. It’s knowing that if I let go, I’ll lose all control, and I would never forgive myself if I hurt you. Not even by accident.”
“I trust you,” she breathed, the words catching on her lips like prayer.
“And I don’t trust myself,” he said softly. “I’m not calm, Bella,” he said, as if hearing her thoughts. “I’m not ice. I’m just trying. Because I love you more than I love whatever I’d feel if I let myself lose control.”
The room was still. Their breaths the only sound. Her skin still buzzed where he touched her-barely, infuriatingly gently.
But there it was again. That small, pitiful, meager human feeling-
Rejection.
The word bloomed inside her like a bruise. She blinked once, then turned her head away from him-slowly, silently. Her gaze fixed on the dark shape of the bedpost, something solid, something that wouldn’t flinch at her longing. Her shoulders drew in as if trying to fold herself smaller. And the tears came freely now, hot and unapologetic, carving clean paths down her cheeks.
Behind her, she felt the shift in him. The way the air changed. The quiet break in his breath.
“Bella-”
She pulled away. Just slightly. Just enough to break the fragile thread that had been holding the air together.
“I’m hurting your feelings,” he said, the words almost a gasp. It sounded like realization. Like guilt.
“I’ll be fine,” she whispered. A lie she didn’t even bother dressing up. It came out too quickly.
He moved closer again, his hand hovering inches from her back, not daring to touch until she let him. “No. No, you’re not. You’re crying because of me.”
She laughed, bitter and wet. “No, I’m crying because I feel like I'm wanting someone who doesn’t want me back.” She wiped her cheek quickly with the back of her hand, as if she could erase what had already been seen. “I know you love me, I know, but sometimes it feels like you don’t want me.”
“Bella-” he began, already stepping in, but the words were flooding out now and she couldn’t stop them.
“I know I’m not supposed to say it- I know you’re trying to protect me and be noble and perfect—but I’m not perfect. I’m human, and I want messy things, real things, like your skin on mine and your mouth and I want you to need me like I-” her voice cracked- “like I need you. And when you don’t even let yourself touch me, I feel like maybe it’s not just fear. Maybe it’s because you don’t really want me that way."
He looked stricken- undone.
“Bella,” he said again, hoarse now, and this time he reached for her-both hands. One to cup her cheek, the other around her wrist as gently as if he were gathering something breaking.
“Don’t say that. Don’t ever think that.” His voice shook-Edward’s voice, always so calm and composed. “God, if you knew what you do to me. If you had any idea how hard I have to work, how much I wish to be nearer to you-”
“I want your laugh,” he murmured, forehead pressed to hers again- firmer this time. “Your stubbornness. I want your hands on me, your lips, your heat. Bella, I ache for it. For you. Every damn day. I want every breath you take”
Her hands had found their way to his chest, fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, clinging like she was afraid he’d disappear. She closed her eyes, tears slipping silently down.
“I’m not asking you to be reckless,” she whispered. “I just don’t want to feel unwanted.”
He pulled her into him then- fully, finally- his arms wrapping around her like he’d been waiting centuries just to do it right. One hand tangled in her hair, the other pressed firm to her back, anchoring her. Not careful now. Not hesitant.
“You are wanted,” he said against her temple. “You are devastatingly wanted.”
He kissed the edge of her jaw, soft , then the corner of her mouth, giving what he could.
An apology.
A surrender.
Slowly, carefully, he began to ease her backward, guiding her until her back met the soft, yielding surface of the bed. The mattress dipped beneath her weight, but he never loosened his hold, his hands steady.
His fingers curled gently at her waist, pressing her closer, while his other hand cupped the delicate curve of her cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray lock of hair that had fallen across her brow. His touch was feather-light, a whispered promise against her skin, and it sent a shiver rippling through her.
As he lowered her further, inch by inch, his lips hovered at the shell of her ear, “You’re so beautiful, my love,” he murmured, voice thick with devotion and awe. “More beautiful than any words could say.”
Her breath hitched, a soft sigh escaping her lips. She turned her head just enough to meet his gaze- the mauve under his eyes so prominent, but for once, so insignificant-
“Edward.”
He silenced her with a gentle finger pressed softly to her lips, his eyes amber pools of tenderness. “Shh, my beloved. You’re safe here. With me.”
Her heart thundered beneath his palm, and she let herself be comforted-by the softness in his eyes, by the touch of his hands that cradled her like glass.
His lips found the curve of her jaw, so slow- delicate- that it made her skin burn beneath their touch. He moved with a patient grace, brushing along her cheekbone, the hollow beneath her ear, the tender line of her neck-each one a silent vow, an offering of his love.
“Such a precious soul,” he whispered, voice barely audible. “So fierce, so fragile. You take my breath away- something I hadn't ever deemed possible.”
Her hands curled into his shoulders, pulling him closer, instinct guiding her as her leg shifted-hesitantly at first- until his hand slipped down, and guided her thigh up around his waist. He held her there, palm splayed beneath her knee, pressing her gently to him like she belonged nowhere else.
Then he pulled back just enough to see her face- eyes glassy, lips parted, cheeks flushed with that unmistakable human vulnerability that never failed to undo him. His gaze roamed her expression with nothing but adoration, his fingers brushing a tear that hadn't fallen yet.
“My silly girl,” he murmured, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “How could you ever think I didn’t want you, when you’re so painfully, achingly beautiful? So brave and soft and real. How could I not want you when everything about you calls to me like nothing else ever has?”
He leaned in again, pressing kisses to her cheek, her temple, each one softer than the last. His thumb stroked slow circles along the inside of her thigh.
“You burn so brightly,” he whispered, dazed. “And I’ve spent so long in the dark. Of course I want you. Of course I do.”
She tightened her grip on his shirt, burying her face against his neck. Her breath hitched again, her lips parting in a soft plea, and Edward’s smile was gentle. “You’re mine, Bella. Every breath you take, every sigh you make.”
And now she believed him.