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Lucid Dreams

"Bella smiled warmly at me then, unaware of my secrets and the silent threats they made on her life..."
Lucid Dreams
Bella Swan is a highly eccentric art student in Seattle...Edward Cullen is a mind-reading vampire, who is instantly drawn to her creative and colorful thoughts. (Yes, he can read her mind! Sort of.)
. . When devious little Alice catches a glimpse of their future, she'll do anything to get them together, including moving Bella in behind Edward's back! This story is rated Adult for drinking, violence, crude language, etc. etc.
This Bella is very OOC. You have been warned.


4. Four

Rating 5/5   Word Count 4231   Review this Chapter


You were way out of line.
Went and turned it all around on me again.
How could I not smell your lie,
Through the smoke and arrogance?


The week went quickly enough; just a jumbled blur of classes and cardboard boxes.

I had unpacked all of my junk, and was now officially settled into my new home.

I still hadn’t seen Edward.

I moped about in my room, working on school projects, arguing with my mind’s “Tiny Voice”, and being generally indignant.

I huffed and sipped some now tepid coffee, glaring at the semi-abstract piece before me.

I was always terrible at judging my own work, and my most recent assignment was a self-critique.

It’s like a parent admitting that their child is a hideous chud. It’s just wrong! Tiny Voice was quite piqued.

For once we were in agreement.

I jammed my iPod into the stereo adapter and flipped through the playlist. I started dancing to Rock Lobster.

You’re dancing around in your underwear. So cliché. Tiny Voice turned up her nose as she examined her nails.

I rolled my eyes.

Low Rider came on, and I started swaying my hips…
Like a hooker! Tiny Voice chimed.

Since when were imaginational characters so berating? I brushed her off and bounced around my room.

“—the FUCK YOU’RE TELLING ME, ALICE?!” a voice roared downstairs.

I felt my stomach drop... I knew that voice.

We should stay here; it’s probably a private conversation. Tiny voice held onto my shirt sleeve like some freekin’ petulant child.

But I was already dressed and halfway down the hallway.

Edward, Alice, and Jasper were all standing rigidly in the living room.

Alice’s eyes were wide, silently pleading. Jasper had positioned himself before Alice, and was starring daggers at Edward.

Despite the situation, I felt eerily calm. There were no aggressive colors in my mind, and I felt the oddest urge to sprawl out on the nearby couch.

Edward’s face was gaunt, emotionless, his eyes fixed on mine.

The calm feeling did strange things to me then. Against every sense of decorum, I moved to him, never breaking our stare. I wrapped my arms around him, my palms flat against his back, and gave his incredibly tense body a gentle squeeze.

“Hello,” my voice was strangely authoritative.

His jaw was taut and his golden eyes smoldered. I was silently begging for his acceptance.

He stood so deathly still, his breathing so scarce, that I poked him in the chest for a response.


I felt my face pinch together in amused disbelief. Alice giggled and grabbed my arm.

“Girl time, see you boys later!” She waved over her shoulder as we made our way to my room.

“As you can see, Edward’s back,” she said blankly as soon as I closed my door.

“Mhm… he’s just going to ignore me, then?” I balked, the calm enveloping me moments ago didn’t last.

Alice laughed. She squinted her eyes, and looked intently at the ceiling, hands on her hips.

“Not for much longer,” she smiled wickedly, “his resolve is weak.”

What the hell did that mean?

“He was upset over my living here,” I sounded more hurt than I liked, “that’s why he was yelling.”

She pursed her lips, “He’s just a big curmudgeon! Crankier than the most pickled of senior citizens!”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that.

“He’ll get over it… soon,” she soothed.

With that, she left.

…She left me alone with Tiny Voice, who was grinning at me devilishly.

“NO!” I wanted to scream, “Don’t leave me alone with her!”

It’s best not to holler over imaginary friends, Bella. Tiny voice clicked her tongue.

I stuffed her into a pillowcase, threw it in the river, and ran after Alice.


“Don’t be aroused by my confession,
Unless you don’t give a good goddamn about redemption.
I know Christ is coming, but so am I.
You would too if this sexy devil caught your eye.”

In all honesty, I was happy to be home. Elated, even! Until I opened the door, stepped inside, and was assaulted with Bella’s autumnal scent.

She had been here recently… her scent clung to every possible surface, saturated the air, and I found myself inhaling deeply. I briefly considered rolling around on the crème chez lounge, which by the strong concentration of her scent, she obviously preferred to the other furniture. Creepy, Edward… Even for you. With a sigh, I sat gingerly on Bella’s favorite couch, torturing myself with her scent.

My more sensible side wondered if Bella was still here, and the thought angered the hell out of me.

Alice and Jasper entered the room then, their topaz eyes fixed solely on me, both minds carefully occupied. Jasper was reciting the Declaration of Independence in Sicilian. Alice engaged herself with a fierce analysis of the different approaches taken by Diana Damrau, Luciana Serra, and Edda Moser when performing in Die Zauberflöte.

“Lucianna Serra, please! I’ve yet to hear her sing Der Hölle Rache without faltering,” I grinned, “Damrau is win.”

Alice laughed.

“I see you’ve had a guest recently.”

Immediately, she went back to Die Zauberflöte.

“No guests, Edward,” she shrugged.

I listened intently, waiting for one of them to slip. Instead I heard, or rather saw, that vibrant artist’s mind.

My Bella was here, and she wasn’t here as a guest. My body tensed, fists curled tight at my sides.

“So that there is no misunderstanding… Why don’t you explain what the FUCK YOU’RE TELLING ME, ALICE?!”

Jasper placed himself swiftly in front of Alice, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

I heard Bella’s rhythmic steps pound down the stairs. She stood in the doorway, watching us intently.

Get out I wanted to scream at her, Leave while you can.

She shouldn’t even be here, but how I longed to go to her! To hold her to me, confess all of my sins and pray that somehow it didn’t matter.

Oh by the way, Bella love, my not having a soul doesn’t bother you, right?

I willed my face to stay still as stone as I looked into Bella’s eyes.

Alice showed me the vision seconds before it came to fruition. It was just enough time to prepare myself.

Bella’s warm arms wrapped around me, she planted her little hands on my back and pulled me close.

It was awkward and dangerous, and wonderful.

My mind, or possibly my heart, or maybe even Alice screamed ‘DON’T YOU DARE HURT HER, YOU BIG BAG OF FUCK!’

Given the profane colloquialism, I decided on Alice.

Thanks to Jasper, Bella’s mind was relatively placid. I saw repeated flashes of a random, beautiful, and entirely unknown painting.

She released me too soon, and I did my best to not let the disappointment show on my face.

“Hello,” it was more of a firm statement than a greeting.

God, the things I wanted to do to her; the vicious, evil, predatory needs aroused by her blood were foremost on my mind… Yet behind them were disturbingly sweet romantic gestures that-

IGNORE THEM. IGNORE HER! My sensible side roared.

The desire to lovingly sweep the fallen hair from her face caused my fingers to twitch, so I locked my muscles firmly in place.

She poked me in the chest, and I stood still as stone.

Her beautiful face was alight with amusement as Alice taunted me.

You’re faltering, Edward. You know you love her, and you can’t ignore her like this forever. She stuck her tongue out at me, behind Bella’s back. Then she took Bella’s arm, and led her upstairs.

“I could kill that damn pixie,” I grumbled.

You’d best not, I’d hate to scare Bella with what I’d do to you... Jasper winked at me.

Alice was right. I felt my cocksure attitude melting away every time I looked at Bella; cracks formed in my resolved façade with each beautiful smile.

REGARDLESS! YOU MUST ABSTAIN FROM CONTACT! The bastard sensible side roared again.

+ + + +

The next night I was drawn from my studies by the broken melody ringing through Bella’s mind.

I listened intently as she stood in the kitchen, humming while washing dishes.

Alice mentally yelled Hey asshole! A vision flashed through her mind, a kiss? I chuckled.

“Not going to happen,” I sneered.

But I was already in the kitchen, mere feet away from Bella.

Bella was humming a song I knew well; The Paper Chase’s Said The Spider to The Fly.

I don’t know why, but I began singing. (Okay, I do. It was because I loved her.)

I sang the Spider’s words softly, barely above a whisper…

I want your head, I want your wicked parts, I want to wring out your evil thoughts.”

She turned to me; her eyes demanded that I continue.

I want to eat out your bitter heart, I want your soul to sing six words harmony, of all the pigs that might tempt me.
I know you’re sick alone, and I’m telling everyone everything.

She moved closer to me, looking almost angry. I tensed before continuing.

You gotta show me where it hurts, there’s a beast and a burden,
Kicking, spitting on your bathroom floor.

This is your life, this is your life…
And when I’m done it’s over a little bit more.


A voice like velvet interrupted my absentminded humming.

Edward’s voice.

It sounded like melting honey.

It was dark, quiet, and earnest as he sang the Spider’s words.

I sang the Fly’s words softly, my voice a breathy drawl; I poured my emotions into the song, praying Edward would understand what I was trying to convey…

So if I fight the good fight, will hairlines recede?
Will lines deepen in face to craft a look of defeat?

At that, Edward looked pained.

I know I’ll never lose an arm, never stay up staring at the phone.
I’ll never rot up with disease, don’t you bury me and leave,
Don’t you leave me in the ground alone.

I wonder if he heard the pleading tone in my voice.

He closed the remaining distance between us. His smell, like a cold winter’s night, surrounded me.

He cupped my face in his hand, and I found myself pushing softly against his palm as he sang, “Good things die all the time. God bless your heart-”

Vengeance is mine,” I cut him off, grinning.

He leaned down to me, I could feel his cool breath fan across my face as he sang, “‘Kiss me like you mean goodbye,’ said the spider to the fly.

The amber of his eyes seemed to be on fire, they burned into mine, and I leaned closer to him.

I took a quick glance as his lips. They were full and smooth and perfect; and I wanted nothing more than to crush them against my own…

…But I was frozen with fear. It seemed that he was, too.

Then he pulled away, and stood stiffly against an adjacent counter.

“You should stay away from me, Bella.”


The bastard was toying with me, I knew it. I briefly considered threatening him with a frying pan, demanding that he kiss me. But that crossed into a certain realm of crazy that even I wasn’t comfortable with.

“What the hell are you on?!”

He chuckled, fanning my violent flames.

“I just mean,” he ran a hand through his beautiful bronze hair. “I mean that I’m no good, Bella. It would be dangerous for you, in ways that you couldn’t even imagine.” His eyes were beseeching, and demanding me to understand this nonsense with no further explanation.

“Dangerous?” I scoffed.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right. There’s just something about a man singing to me in chinos that sets warning bells off in my head.” I glared at him and his spiffy pants.

He sniggered through his sneer.

My skin felt like it was on fire. If I stood in that kitchen with him for another second, I would end him. Violently!

I stomped up to my room like the cranky brat I am, and slammed the door; the loud reverberations sending a clear message throughout the house, “Leave me the fuck alone!”

I glared at my most recent painting. Every brush stroke stood as a firm reminder of him- of his lies. It was a product of my misguided infatuation, a painful reminder of my idiocy. I reached for a putty knife, intent on its destruction.

No! Tiny Voice shouted. You must let it sit, every day, to remind you of your foolishness.

I snarled at her, digging a bottle of Popov from my desk drawer.

Now there’s the answer
, Tiny Voice sneered.

“Bitch,” I growled, “you’d best break out the water wings, because I’m going to fuckin’ drown you.”

I turned on some music and took a deep pull from the bottle.

I growled along with The Undertaker as I dug through my desk for some thick T pins.

I looked around my room, debating on the perfect area of placement.

Over the dresser, perhaps? No, that seemed to smack of reverence.

Ah, yes, above the bed! The wall was otherwise unoccupied, and could be clearly seen from any point in the room. It seemed fitting, since the bastard already occupied every dream… and every waking thought, and -

Masochist, much? Tiny Voice sneered.

I tipped the bottle back again, wincing at the burn.

I growled along with the song as I stabbed the pins into the wall.

Thank you for making me feel like – I am guilty,” I paused as I hung the painting, a terrible grin plastered on my face. “Making it easier to – murder your sweet memory.

The alcohol-induced warmth surged through me as I stared at the lie handing above my bed.

The song changed. I lit a cigarette, because the only thing I seemed to smell was him, and sprawled across the floor.

I stared at the ceiling for an eternity, zoning out to The Velvet Underground.

Whiplash girlchild in the dark.
Clubs and bells, your servant, don’t forsake him.
Strike dear mistress, and cure his heart.

I took in the last of what the bottle had to offer, reveling in the dull static that fuzzed and filled my head.

I am tired, I am weary, I could sleep for a thousand years.
A thousand dreams that would awake me,
Different colors made of tears…

+ + + +

Waking up the next morning, I knew I probably looked like I felt – hurt, shitty, and hung-over.

My eyes were dry and red, my head felt fractured. I tried in vain to form coherent thoughts.

I slept all night on the goddamn floor, my whole body felt as bruised as my ego.

I smelled like stale vodka. I dragged myself into the shower before the smell could make me ill.

It seemed like a jeans and a t-shirt kind of day, since I had slept through my first class, and was in no shape to go to the second.

There was a note on the kitchen counter with a bottle of aspirin next to it. The bright pink pen ink stabbed into my eyes as I read it,


We’re all out running errands, didn’t want to wake you.

A family friend is staying with us for a few days.

Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.

Please take care of yourself. An
arrow pointed to the pill bottle.

Call if you need anything!


I wondered when they left as I threw back a few of the little white pills.

I went into the living room and sat slowly onto my favorite couch, now fairly certain I was still drunk.

I hated everything. The light stabbed deep into my brain, every breath sent sick churning feelings off in my stomach, and just existing seemed to anger me.

The room started spinning like some bad trip, so I curled up and put my head between my knees.

I woke up to hushed voices and stifled giggles. Alice?

I squinted into the painfully bright room.

Edward stood at the front door with some beautiful, leggy strawberry-blonde number. She was staring right at me, a hand cupped over her mouth to hide her laughter, the other hand on Edward’s arm. I wanted to scream.

Alice shoved her way into the house, knocking Edward out of the way with a quick “Motherfuckingsonofabitch.”

She grabbed my arm and took me into the kitchen. She turned to speak to me, but seemed to wince at some unpleasant thought.

Her eyes flickered to something behind me, and back to my face. Her expression darkened. “Bella, please don’t be-” But I turned to see what captured her attention.

Edward was leaning against the doorsill, staring at me intently.

I did my best to control my frantic emotions. I was possessive, jealous, sick, murderous, and straight up fucking ANGRY; and worst of all I had no right to be.

I did my best to ignore the way my spine tingled when his amber eyes grazed over me.

I had to keep myself in check, or I was going to attack Edward with the nearest blunt object.

Bludgeon him with the waffle iron! Tiny Voice bounced.

I stuffed her into the dishwasher and turned it on.

I filled my head with Jim Morrison’s dripping-with-sex-voice, something that usually clamed me.

I listened to him sing Love Her Madly, but my idiot brain kept replacing Jim’s voice with Edward’s. It was an improvement – go figure. I would crawl across fields of salted, broken glass any day, if it meant hearing Edward sing to me.

Edward stood against the door, his cocky grin growing exponentially with every passing second.

I heard the door open again, and Alice left to presumably greet her boyfriend.

I didn’t want to be alone with Edward.

I cringed, remembering his impromptu serenade.

“So, you guys have company?” Keep it light.

“An old family-friend,” he smiled to himself.

His gorgeous lips pulled up on one side, sexy as hell, and I couldn’t stop wondering if they tasted as good as they looked.

No no no, what’s wrong with you?! He’s a bastard! Stop thinking of him like that!

My mind went to old people, then to vintage record stores, then Jim Morrison’s voice, then Edward singing Light My Fire in black leather pants, no shirt. (A.K.A. the stuff that dreams are made of.)

God, I hated Edward. No, it took more than just anyone to replace my Morrison fantasies.

I was pretty sure I loved Edward, and had from the first second I saw him.

The moody fucking bastard.

He smiled the same warm smile that he used the other night. That smile that somehow promised me the world, made my knees weak, and aggravated the hell out of me all at once. It’s only aggravating because he’s not yours.

I forced a smile back, but I knew my eyes betrayed my pain.

Then that Strawberry Bitch sauntered her skanky-self up to Edward. She grabbed his ass while whispering something in his ear that sounded a fucking lot like “…if I’m going to be staying in your room,” and licked his motherfucking earlobe.

I’ve never been so fucking livid in my entire life. I couldn’t see or hear or feel anything past the red.

I knew I needed to leave.

He was the ocean. I was drowning. And the only thing I knew was that I needed to breathe again.

When I reached the door, his strangled voice called out to me, “Bella, wait. Bella, please!”

I almost did.



She left. Idiot that I am, I let her. My beautiful, crazy Bella… She was just too good for me, and knowing it took some of the fight out of me.

I felt her overwhelming anger and pain as she watched Tanya grope me, and it clawed at my dead little heart.

“Bella, wait. Bella, please!” I called after her, “Bella, I love you.”

But she was already gone.

Tanya sniggered. I growled and shot her a murderous glare, and she seemed to almost choke on her laughter.

Tanya knew I didn’t care for her… the bitch had always toed the line, but that shit in front of Bella went too damn far.

If I hadn’t been raised better, serious pain would have been inflicted on her.

“Yeah, Life,” I grumbled at the floor. “Go ahead. I’ll just lay back and watch you shit on me. Whether or not there’s a glass coffee table in the way is totally up to you.”

“You just shut right the fuck up, Edward!” Alice was out for blood, “This is your fault! I could kill you for what you’re doing to Bella.” Jasper put a hand on his love’s shoulder, trying to calm her.

She mentally roared This isn’t the way you treat someone you love, Edward! Why didn’t you listen to me? Do you have any idea what you’re doing to her? Letting Tanya play grab-ass in front of her like that! I should set fire to you both! What were you thinking?! WERE YOU THINKING?! Look at her, Edward! Alice then showed me a vision of Bella, in her truck, driving away. Bella didn’t scream or cry, her body was perfectly relaxed, but her face was contorted in a mask of horrific pain and anger.

I opened my mouth to contradict her, I was focusing on Bella’s mind, not Tanya’s, and I just didn’t hear- but saw that her face was familiarly blank.

I watched in horror as a brutal vision of Bella flashed through her mind.

I wrenched the front door free of its hinges in my dispatch, desperate to get to my Bella before the vision became reality.


You fool! Tiny Voice scolded me as I drove further into the city. You’re letting yourself be played.

And she was right. What on earth would that GQ looking motherfucker want with my crazy ass?

I grumbled softly as I shoved my iPod into the adapter. I quickly selected the most obnoxiously angry music I had.

Exhumed’s Matter of Splatter blasted my ears. I cranked the volume up, allowing the assaulting beats to consume my mind. The vocal shrieks replaced all thoughts of Edward with staining, rabid, furious color. I lit a cigarette, focusing on the sensation of its harsh internal burn, rather than the prickling of my skin.

I parked behind a pub, determined to drown my demented thoughts. I made a quick check of inventory. I had my wallet and ID, and the cell phone that I would inevitably call Alice on later.

I made my way into the pub. It was only mid-afternoon, but several patrons were already obviously annihilated.

It’s eerie, isn’t it? Tiny Voice, the bitch, jeered. Like looking into the future...

She was right.

The fuck was I doing here?

I should be pouring this aggressive energy into something (at least moderately) productive, not allowing it to completely devour me.

A wave of sickening contempt assaulted me.

Tiny Voice whispered, Maybe you’re not hopeless after all.

Some slimy, blatantly intoxicated asshat interrupted my abstraction with a slurred “Hey, what’s your name?”

“It’s Back The Fuck Off,” I sneered.

“Oh come on, baby, don’t be that way,” he moved closer to me.

I shuddered, swerved around him, and went to the “Ladies” room.

Not even remotely assured of the drunkard’s etiquette, I locked the door behind me and pulled out my cell.

I called the house.

No answer.

Don’t be a pest, there’s no reason to make her come here. I sighed.

I unlocked the door, peeked out into the bar to make sure there was no sign of trouble, and made a B line for the door.

I almost made it to my car before I heard hushed voices close behind me. I froze, splayed my keys between my fingers, and gripped them firmly.

“Hey missy!” a muddled voice called.

I turned, key-spiked hand at my side.

Three hulking, inebriated forms stood way too close.

“S’not polite to leave without saying g’bye, ya know,” Asshat slurred.

I took a step back towards my truck, only to knock into someone’s fleshy form.



I prayed they wouldn’t leak into my voice.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” I did my best to glare at the big one I backed into.

“Oh come on, sugar,” he stepped towards me.

My mind was blank. My nerves were live wires. I did my best to recall the self-defense classes Charlie insisted I take… years ago. Palm to the nose, knee to the groin. The keys. HIT HIM!

I clenched my fist so tight around my keys I wanted to yelp in pain, and swung at the big one, connecting firmly with his jaw. I dropped the keys, a stabbing heat running through my hand.

He staggered back, a hand over his bleeding face.

The other three surrounded me then, one of their big meaty paws grabbed my wrist hard.

I bit back a whimper of pain.

Then several things seemed to happen at once.

A silver Volvo tore into the parking lot, nearly missing the big bleeding oaf, my wrist was released, and the other three took several big steps back.

Then Edward launched himself out of the driver’s seat and growled “Get in the car.