Summary: Destiny is said to be a long winded road.
For Bella Swan, the prospect of the future was no more alluring than the vision of ‘what if’; a pointless wander into the unknown, cursed with the curiosity that is known to cause harm.
For Edward Cullen, the prospect of the present drew many more illusions to the impossible notions that he had been resisting for so many decades, more than he himself would find appealing.
Destiny is said to be a long winded road. A road that perhaps if taken, can cause more damage than originally set.
He understood that. She didn’t. Perhaps that was their downfall. But for the moment, for the small miniscule amount of time that they were able to be together, sometimes, the lingering fear was forgotten, only to be replaced by feeling.
Her fingers rested against his cold cheek and she felt his breath against her palm. It still amazed her that the smallest amount of contact created a rush throughout her body. His hand rested on her hip, and she almost thought she felt it quivering, knowing, hoping that he felt exactly as she did.
“How do you do it?” He asked softly, his eyes settling on her knees, curled up on her bed.
She felt confused. “Do what?”
He let himself look at her. “Stay here, be here, when you know eventually it has to end.”
“It doesn’t,” her voice is firm, yet she feels it crack under the pressure of the lump in her throat.
He smiled, a sad smile, one that she knew only meant that he thought she was naïve, silly. His fingers curled around the material of her shirt and he moved his face, so that his lips lingered inches from hers.
“Silly Bella,” he breathed. She was sure her heart had stopped. But he didn’t continue, instead, pressing his lips on hers, the fire and spark erupting between them.
For once, she didn’t pull away. And neither did he. The fire and spark burned against her lips, but there was such a matter of urgency in her kiss, to tell him that she wasn’t letting him go, that she almost felt her entire body give way.
He broke away first, his hands on her shoulders, his eyes erratic.
“You shouldn’t,” he muttered.
She glared at him, her fingers resting against his leg. “I should.”
“You should,” he repeated, his lips quivering under the pressure of his frown.
Silence penetrated the walls of her bedroom, the only movement coming from the curtains fluttering against the soft breeze.
“It’s late,” he mused, staring out into the woods.
She nodded, her voice caught in her throat at the emotions swirling around her body. She wasn’t quite sure how to feel when he talked about leaving her so bluntly, so casually. It was one of his only flaws, she thought.
“Stay,” she managed to stumble, her fingers curling around the nape of his shirt. She couldn’t bear to see him go, not tonight.
He smiled, his crooked smile that made her knees go weak. And without another word, he sat next to her, lying down and pulling her down with him, his arm curled around her waist. The lump in her throat grew bigger, not out of fear or sadness, but out of wonder.
She always found herself in awe when she was with him. Moments like these made her really believe that this was fate.
“Sleep, Bella,” he whispered softly into her ear, his voice silky.
It took her mere minutes to fall asleep in his arms. She remembered saying something, she thought.
“I love you,” she mumbled.
His smile echoed across her cheek.