when did he ever agree to be an obliging host for this… charade? it was a genuine question he had asked himself more than ONCE on this night. try as he might to stay close to the sidelines and away from anyone with any burning questions, he was not invisible - and people still found him. the glass he holds carelessly in one hand is half empty by design, and the dismissive way in which he has decided to conduct himself ( expression vacant, words bored ) is equally so. no one wants to interact with a contemptuous child, he has learned, and he’s very good at putting on this show for his own good ; almost too much so. the couple who wished to question what it was like in italy for him and his ‘family’ make their excuses before he could get the chance, disappearing into the sea of bodies, and he feels…- he feels freed, until his sleeve is just barely tugged upon, and he turns to start it all over again-
warmth radiates from her. not just from the depths of chocolate eyes, not just from heart - but from the rush of sweet scented blood running in those faded veins, that lifesblood that he had once desired so much - that he still did. their skin did not meet, but that level of closeness was enough, and his icy arm felt suddenly on fire, and SENSE dictated that he pull away, with intent. a man who places a hand on a stove does not leave it there, to melt - and edward’s instinct, here, his mouth slightly ajar in sheer shock - was to pull his arm away, pull himself in tight. shy away from this being who was not a figment of his imagination, anymore, come to torture him for his SINS. clouded eyes were the gateway to his soul, in this moment, and as every emotion possible played out within their depths, it was all that he could do not to crush the flute in hand through some sort of… reflex.
“you’re here,” he chokes out, and it isn’t a question.
“you’re-…” she had drowned, he’d been told. lost to murky depths. the vision of her in those final moments - terrified and alone - had haunted him so completely. it seemed…- it seemed too much. too much to be true. “… you’re real?” a choice of phrase chosen, in this instance, to be read as synonymous with alive.
his facade . she had seen it on his face as he had talked to the couple , the forced upward quirk of his lips . and it is so reminiscent of the expression that he had made before he had shattered her heart into a million pieces . she still remembers the cold that she had felt as she had stood in the forest , a shivering slip of a girl . she's not the same anymore . the sight of him is enough to send her heart into palpitations as he turns in her direction and briefly , bella hesitates . this isn't a good idea . why had she ever entertained the thought that it was ? if she knows what is best for her , bella will turn : slip away into the night like a phantom - she will leave edward behind before he can do it to her again . but she doesn't move , her feet are planted : locked in place . as always , she's a stupid , foolish human who can not resist temptation when it is placed before her .
she is not surprised by how he jerks away from her . she regrets reaching out in the very moment that her fingers graze his sleeve . his skin had been perilously close . ( she doesn't know if she would have been able to touch him . even the thought is enough to make her drop her hand , place it close back to her own side . ) fidgeting , bella meets his gaze . and she regrets that immediately too . in their depths , she can see so much : agony and grief are intermingled with surprise . she too is surprised . surprised that she is able to move , to take another step toward him . she raises the glass to her lips , takes a sip and tries to gather her thoughts . it helps : the reflex means that she doesn't shatter , that the lump in her throat doesn't make her burst into tears in front of all these people .
she feels more like a ghost than she ever has before . while all of the cullens had reacted similarly , none of their reactions had been more profound than edward's . she doesn't know what she should do : how she should placate him . a deep breath , mainly to steady herself . ' i'm here , ' she confirms , tucking some hair behind her ear . how do you explain something like this ? ' the vision wasn't ... alice's vision wasn't right . i’m real . and you are too ? ' she desperately needs the reassurance .
