Text Size Large SizeMedium SizeSmall Size    Color Scheme Black SchemeWhite SchemeGrey SchemePaper Scheme        

If I were Bella ...

Summary:
This is a story about what it would be like if I were Bella. And just for the sake of the story, pretend that Edward isn't longing for my blood, and that Renee is sort of mean-ish. And yes, this is my personality in the whole. My room is like a art shop exploded, sometimes i NEED to draw someone (imagine a crazy haired massive eyed girl folowing around a popular guy asking him for me to draw him). Read and Review!! {the goddess almighty Stephanie Meyer owns the fabulas world of twilight!} comon people, lets get somereviews!!!


Notes:


1. Yes, I am weird

Rating 0/5   Word Count 2910   Review this Chapter

“And this, is my room” I huffed as we reached my bedroom door.

He seemed kind of shocked, looking around. Well, who wouldn’t be? Papers, sketch books, charcoal, watercolour paints, oil paints, oil pastels, pencil crayons and pencil shavings were messily spread across my desk, shelves, and a bit on the floor. He carefully walked around any stray papers and carefully examined my room.

Edward and I have become some what good friends. Angela, Jessica and I still talk, but they seem to leave me and Edward alone for most of the time. I loved them for it.

He drives me to and from school everyday, and stays after school to talk. Today, he surprised me by suddenly asking if he could see my house. How could I refuse? Edward and I have been talking together on my front porch for most of this month, and never once have I asked him to come inside. My manners were not what you’d call amazing.

As he walked to my desk, I could only admire his perfect body. How could anyone so perfect be so... perfect?! It was driving me insane.

“Your portfolio?” Edward asked in his velvet voice. I nodded quickly as I walked over beside him. He opened the leather lid and looked at my creations.

I’ll admit, I never like people seeing my work. It’s embarrassing. But now, instead of trying to hide the blush on my face, I was examining his. Every time he turned the page, his face seemed too light up.

“Do you...like them?” I asked slowly.

“Incredibly” he whispered. He looked at all the other ones, until he came up to the last one. It was and oil painting of a typical Forks forest. Green, everywhere, dark gray clouds up in the sky. The trees were dark, scary. Yet, on each of the trees, it looked like they glimmered. Like the sun was shinning on them. But it wasn’t a real sun shine. The shimmer was darker, golder. It had a sort of butterscotch tone to them.

“What’s this?” he asked. He seemed amused.

“Well, it’s, um...well you sort of inspired this one” I stumbled embarrassed.

“How so?” he asked oh-so innocently.

“Well,” I began, giving up any hope of not blushing “This is a Forks forest. It’s all dark, scary looking. Yet, there’s like a shimmer, like from the sun. It’s from your eyes.” As I said this, my fingers traced the butterscotch shine. His hand lifted from his side and slowly traced them along side me.

Then, very carefully, he slid his hand into mine. As his hand touched mine, a cold spark lit up in my body. I think my heart stopped, right then and there. His hands were so cold, but I liked it.

Slowly, I took my less fortunate hand and traced Edward’s long white fingers. Then, I went along to his knuckles. After, the back of his hand. My face unwillingly leaned in to examine his hand. When I was done my little exploration of his hand, I looked up to see his lovely face, with his breathtaking crooked smile looking down at me. We were silent like that for a moment.

When suddenly, I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Do you think it would be OK if I can draw you?” I said suddenly. Yet I didn’t blush, or look down. I needed to. Needed to. My artist instincts took control over me. He laughed a small yet amused laugh.

“Of course...but-” he began, with the smile still on his face.

“But?” I asked curiously.

“I don’t have to go nude, do I?” he teased, then laughed. I joined in. He let go of my hand and positioned myself on my bed. I quickly searched my desk for a sketchbook and some charcoal. Once found, I took my chair and put it in front of my bed.

“Be very still” I whispered. He got comfortable, and froze. No one could be still like Edward. He was like Michelangelo’s David, but with clothes and seated comfortably.

I traced the charcoal over the page, and then began.

I started to trace the out line of his body, but got caught up in his chest (well, who wouldn’t?)

After, I started the head. I traced the beautiful outline of his face, his nose, his eyes... I couldn’t help myself, I needed to get closer.

I got up from my chair and sat at the back edge of the bed, where your feet go. He moved up and sat on my pillow. I flipped the page and began his face. I traced the outline of his face, his hair, oh he had great hair. There was a light breeze –the window was open- so his hair swirled around in the air. After, I started to work oh his eyes. His beautiful, soft, dangerous eyes. His eyes... then I knew what inspired me to draw him in the first place.

Slowly to see if he’d object, I got up and sat down on his lap, facing him. I wrapped my legs slowly around him. I know, I know. That was totally slutty of me. I mean, I just met the boy about a month ago, and now I was sitting on his lap! But it’s like I could help myself. I was completely hypnotized by his very presence. My artist senses took over me, I wouldn’t get out of this faze until I’d finish the picture. He looked a bit tense at first, but relaxed after a second.

I placed my sketchbook on his middle chest and began his eyes. It was completely silent, but I liked it better that way.

Sometimes, I’d lean in very close, pretending it was for the purpose of the drawing. Of course, that wasn’t the case. As I leaned in, I breathed in his intoxicatingly wonderful scent and stared into his like eyes. His eyes reminded me of a well. If you lean in to deep, you fall right in. He didn’t seem to object to any of this. When I’d lean in close, he would stay perfectly still, except his eyes would move along with mine.

Once I finished, I looked down at the drawing. Something was missing.

“Finished?” he asked quietly.

“Not quite. Don’t move” I said as I got up from his lap and ran around my room, trying to find my oil pastels.

Once retrieved, I sat down on his lap again. I opened the container and searched for any color that had any resemblance to his eyes. I had about 10 oil pastels. I began to color his eyes.

The way the light played around with the color, the way it shimmered. Sometimes, my hand would go at an exhilarating speed, trying to copy his eyes as fast as I could. Other times, my hand would be very slow, almost brushing the page.

Unknowingly, I moved the sketchbook from the middle of his chest all the way up so the top of the sketchbook touched his rock hard neck.

As I drew, I wondered what made him so ... tempting to draw. Of course, the biggest reason was probably because he is so perfect. But there were the little things that made him so perfect. Like his rock hard body. It reminded me of drawing on cement. Or marble.

Also, another thing that made him so perfect was his white skin. It was the palest skin I’ve ever seen in my life. It made him look like a ghost at times. I must admit, I never liked those tan, surfer boys from California. They looked fake to me, like the tan was covering them up. And here was Edward, with the most clear, white skin I’ve ever seen.

Another thing was that he was so cold. Sitting on his lap, (I know I’ll forget never forgive myself for doing that, but it was like I was drunk. When your drunk, you do stupid things, and then the next day, you completely regret them) I noticed how cold he was. It was like sitting on ice.

There were other things that I found odd as well. A completely perfect example would be how he raced to my side, from across the parking lot, to stop the van from squishing me. And how his hand stopped the van. It was incredible.

And how he never ate anything (maybe that’s how he got his figure...).

“It looks wonderful” I heard him whisper. The sound of his honey voice surprised me. I was so lost in thought. He had slide the sketch book out of my hand, and flipped it around so he could see it, all without me noticing.

“Ohh! Thank you” I finally blurted out. He smiled at my surprised tone, but his eyes were on my picture. He seemed amazed. I was rather pleased at myself. Usually, I was one who was horrible at everything, and he was the one who was amazing at everything.

“Why did you put the color black around my eyes?” Edward finally asked as he flipped the sketchbook around and pointed the dark shadow all around his eyes.

“Well, you’re always saying that your the ‘bad guy’ and that your ‘dangerous’ and whatever. That’s what the black represents. But the light from your eyes, the good in you, shines through all of that” I murmured. I took my art very seriously. Everything represented something. But, there were those times where I’d be listening to a random song on the radio, or eating dinner, and I’d get this very sudden inspiration that has nothing to do with what I am doing.

“How do you know if that’s true? If the good shines through me?” he pressed on. Once again, he caught me of guard. I tilted my head to show him that I wasn’t completely in la-la land, and thought about his question.

“... I don’t know” I finally let out. He seemed pleased with my answer.

“But I know you are” I said firmly, keeping the fight alive.

“I am what?” he answered, almost frightened buy my accusation.

“I know you’re good”

“How? How do you know?”

“You can tell. You are always so polite, and kind, and for god sakes you stopped a van from crushing me! There couldn’t be any ‘bad’ intention in that!”

“What if having the van crushed you lead me into a bad intention?”

“Which is?” I almost spat. I hate it when Edward talks like this. Warning me and such, it was plain annoying! He looked down, not wanting to answer. I sighed.

“Please tell me” I whispered.

“I can’t”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ll be breaking a rule”

“Rules are made to be broken”

“Not this one” Edward said with grief.

“You know I’ll figure it out myself” I said slyly. He chuckled.

“The likeliness of that” He sighed, still amused. I was glad that his mood was up and good again. It was then I realized I was still sitting on his lap.

“Oh!” I blushed. I quickly jumped of his lap and walked over to my desk to put the sketchbook away. I heard him chuckling behind me. What odd mood swings he had.

“You know you are a really good artist” he whispered in my ear. I sort of jumped because I hadn’t realized he was right behind me.

“Thank you” I said, my blush ripening.

“You are very funny when you draw. You seem rather intoxicated” He said. His chin was barely touching my shoulder. Great, my heart stopped again.

“Oh really...” I barely was able to say. I turned around to face him.

His beautiful face was staring down at me. No smile, no frown. I couldn’t place his expression. I had a feeling that it was good, though. We stared at each other for hours, or so it seemed. When, suddenly, he leaned his head so his mouth was right by my ear.

“Guess what I am” he whispered. I think he just restarted my heart now.

“A ghost?” I answered feebly. He laughed in my ear.

“Guess again”

“An angel, a demon, a human, a monster...?” I threw answers at him pathetically. He laughed again.

“The last one” he murmured. I searched my mind. What monster would be as beautiful and perfect as Edward? Let’s see, pale skin, doesn’t eat, cold skin, changing eyes, seemingly wicked speed to run across the parking lot, and strength to stop the van.

“Some sort of pale skinned, super quick, changing eyed monster?” I asked playfully. He did smile, but no laugh. I think I might be on to something. He leaned his head a bit lower, so his mouth was barely touching my neck. Adrenaline pulsed though me.

“What monster did Jacob tell you about?” He said playfully, but with slight anger tone.

I thought about it. Jacob said something about ‘The Cold One’. Something that hunts people...

Then I knew.

I knew. I understood. Jacob, telling me those stories. Edward, always trying to get me away. I knew. It all made sense. The no sunshine, pale skin, no eating...

I grasped it. I thought about my life. If these were my final moments. If it would end just like that.

But I knew better. He wouldn’t. He would never in his whole life. Never. I trusted him. I loved him. I couldn’t get away from him, no matter what he was.

He held his position, patiently waiting. Then, making sure my voice didn’t squeak.

“Vampire” It barely left from my lips. He lifted his head, so he was only a few inches from my face. He took his cold hand and stroked my face.

“Exactly” He murmured as he slowly turned around to leave.

Then I did something none of us expected.

I tackled him. Well, not exactly bringing him down, but at least stopping from leaving. It was like hugging one of those marble columns. He looked down at me.

“Bella...”

“No. You’re not leaving. I don’t care. It doesn’t matter” I said with my eyes shut and my arms wrapped around him. I looked like a five year old trying to get her mom not to leave when she dropped her off at daycare. But I didn’t move. He sighed and took my arms and slowly unwrapped myself from him. He was like iron, and I was like grass, my arms only followed his.

“You don’t understand Bella. I am a killer, a demon, a monster. It may help that my family doesn’t hunt-” he paused shortly, looking for my expression, which was full amazement “-er, hurt humans. But none the less, I am dangerous”

“I don’t care”

“Bella, I am dangerous to you. To your family. To every single frail human being around me. I’m a killer Bella” he stared to speak with anger and sadness. “I’m a monster. I don’t want to hurt you Bella”

“You’re not hurting me” I tried to say firmly. Also, I was trying to get over the fact that he may have unwrapped my arms from around him, but he took his arms and lightly wrapped them around me. My hands lay limp in his chest.

“Not now, but I might in the future”

“No you won’t. Edward, I trust you. Please”

“No Bella”

“Edward Cullen,” I said while taking my arms and slowly wrapping them around his waist. “I was unhappy. I was hurt. Leaving my mother, my house, my Sun down in Phoenix. But, through the cloudy skies of Forks, you were there. You’re the reason I get up in the morning. You’re the reason for everything now. I’ll never be hurt around you” I said swiftly and firmly. Then, when I suddenly realized what I just said, I blushed a complete scarlet. I looked down, very embarrassed. Where did that come from? I seriously needed to learn how to shut my mouth. I slowly looked up at his eyes. Would he be happy? Or angry? Does he love me back? Or does he only like me as a friend? Will he leave me forever because of what he is? All these questions traced my mind as I looked up.

Then I saw his face. His eyes. The inspiration to most of my drawings. The light that shines me through the clouds. They were happy. They seemed to glow. On his face, he put on my favourite crooked smile. Then he bent down his head to that his mouth was at my ear.

“Really?” he whispered.

“Edward, from the moment I saw you, I knew I was in love” I whispered back firmly. I didn’t say it to be noble, or brave looking. I said it because it was the absolute truth. Beside me, he seemed to glow.

“Don’t you care? Aren’t you worried?” he pressed.

I took my hand and placed it on the side of his face. I stroked his jaw.

Inside, I felt like jelly. Like the day I showcased my art at the community center and my mom who thought my art was ‘a complete waste of money and time’ looked at me and said “Their beautiful”. I felt like the day I first rode my bike down the block without falling. I felt whole. I felt good.

I looked up at him with my massive brown eyes.

Then he gently leaned his head down and pressed his marble lips on to mine.