Disclaimer: I do not own, only play. These are Stephanie Meyer's characters.
"I think you're going to have a hard time with that one, Emmett," Edward said, skimming through his untouched salad for the past half hour.
The two men sat, gathered in Edward's office during their lunch break. Emmett leaned against Edward's desk as Edward sat in his computer chair; looking over some articles that he kept re-reading the titles to. He was quite distracted that afternoon.
Emmett brought his coffee mug down from his mouth in just the slightest. With a bit of anger, he asked why.
Edward didn't want to be the one to ruin it for him but he thought he might as well tell Emmett so he didn't waste time on something he couldn't have.
Edward sighed gradually. "She's a lesbian, Emmett."
Emmett almost spit out his coffee.
"No she's not."
Looking down at his articles, Edward didn't bother to feed into Emmett's expression. "Yeah, she is."
"Girls like Rosalie are not lesbians; not when they look like that."
Edward then chose that moment to look to his friend, bitterly; he rolled his eyes at him. "Not all lesbians have butch haircuts and studded belts."
"That Isabella girl seemed to."
This caught Edward's attention more fully. "She had very long hair, Emmett," his tone was defensive.
"Yeah, but her choker had plenty of studs on it," he replied, walking over to the trash can to discard his sub sandwich wrappers.
"Isabella isn't a lesbian."
"Then how do you know Rosalie is?"
"Because Isabella told me."
"Sure she's not hiding herself?"
Again, Edward's sigh was heavy and he looked up again from his work to give Emmett an estranged face. "She invited me back to her dorm room that night."
Emmett decided to completely discard his coffee then, setting it on the table for good. "Really? But you didn't go."
The brunette got up from his chair to retrieve a file that was on the other side of the room, and when he realized that it was not there, he phoned for his secretary Charlotte to retrieve it for him. But Emmett wouldn't let the conversation pass because he was too invested now. And while he gave time for Edward to answer, he shortly realized that he wasn't going to answer. So he asked him again.
Edward chewed on the inside of his cheek. He looked over at his co-worker with a tired expression. "No, I didn't go. She's a college student… inviting me to her dorm. It just seemed… very unprofessional."
"Ed, you're not her professor. You're what, like 5 years older than her?"
To be honest, that wasn't what Edward was concerned about. Age was the least of his worries.
"She's just…" Edward pondered.
Emmett answered bluntly. "Weird."
Edward shook his head. "She's not weird."
"Dude, the girl looks like an Addams' family member."
He shot Emmett a frustrated look. "Why don't you worry about your girl problems and I'll worry about mine."
"Fine," he said, getting up from Edward's desk, "And Rosalie's not gay."
"Bella's not weird."
Emmett gathered up the rest of his belongings and headed for the door. Edward caught his attention with an intentional cough.
"She's not weird; she's just not the usual girl I would date, that's all."
His hand on the door handle, Emmett's shrug was noncommittal. "Who said you have to date her?"
Because Alice really did leave for the weekend, Bella sat in her dorm room alone.
After spending time on her bed with her human anatomy book, cradled on her pillow like a lover, she got up to go to the bathroom.
She thought about the reasons why Edward would reject her and she looked to her reflection in the mirror for answers. Could it have been her hair? Her tattoos? Her piercings? Her wardrobe? Could it have been less about her exterior and more about her age?
Bella didn't think so as his reaction at the club didn't reflect his prior treatments to her while they were talking and drinking. Confused, she stared at herself, touching her pale cheeks lightly.
It only took Bella two minutes of careful pondering to realize that she didn't care at all. Because she wasn't about to steal something out of Alice's drawers to make a guy like her. She stopped trying to impress people ever since junior high when she pretended to like the cool kid's favorite band.
Because the real clandestine was if the cool kids secretly thought you were weird and they whispered behind your back anyway, what did it matter if you pretended to like Blondie?
Because Bella had spent too many years 'liking Blondie'.
And after all, Bella was a Sex Pistols kind of girl.
The next week came and went and Edward's trash can had seen many water bottles until Friday night when it started to see beer bottles. And the trash can started to fill up quick.
As Edward tipped back another, he walked over to his phone charging by his bed side and held it up to his ear. Emmett answered on the third ring and answered with a yawn.
"Hey, did you get Rosalie's number?"
"Because I need to get Bella's number."
Edward had thought about it over and over in his head; relating his problem to finance. He wasn't sure if this was a good investment. Edward had invested his time into other women, women of many sorts that of which he thought were secure and would hold up in the end.
This was proven wrong. So maybe he wanted to change investments. But was it risky?
Emmett's words rang in his ears the most. Who said you have to date her?
It took a lot to get Edward drunk but eventually, his brain saw clouds and his judgment became impaired.
And her cell phone number became hot under his fingertips.
Rosalie had been somewhat startled when Edward Cullen rang her phone. Startled because it was Edward Cullen and startled because it was almost 1 am on a Friday night. And it was almost too easy to guess that he wanted Bella's number because she wasn't stupid. She had an eye for body language and she had known Edward Cullen liked her best friend just like she knew her best friend liked him back.
So as soon as she rattled off the numbers and closed the call, she ran over to Bella's room and banged on the door. Alice's tired face answered, the only light in the studio coming from her little desk lamp shining down over an opened text book. Bella was in her bed, her body curved towards the wall.
Rosalie climbed into her bed and woke her friend up with an obnoxious smack to her ass.
"Ow!" Bella whispered.
"Edward Cullen is going to call you."
Bella rolled over in her bed, not thinking too clearly, and rolled over onto Rose's knee. Her cry was quiet but it did render a look from Alice who hopelessly hovered over her book. Her attempts at studying were going to be shot down for the rest of the night if Rosalie stayed.
As she sat up in bed, Bella picked up her phone off the hood of her laptop and looked at it, as if it would start ringing.
"Rose, go away."
The blonde made a sour face and started to climb down from the bed. "And this is what I get for helping. I'll be waiting for my 'thanks' later on." At the door, she shimmied the lock back open. "Bye, Alice," she added before leaving completely.
By the next morning, Edward had called Bella's phone but didn't leave a message. She stared at the unknown number, even though she knew exactly who it was but she didn't call back. And it wasn't until later Saturday evening did he actually call again and did Bella actually answer.
"Have dinner with me." Was his apology for the other night.
And Bella saying 'yes' was her accepting it.
Bella came off the local bus a block away from the small Italian restaurant that wasn't too far away from her dorms. She had only been there once before and it was on Easter when her and her friends decided to eat somewhere elegant for the holiday. It made them all broke, but the most she could say was that the food was very good.
She walked in dressed in black as Edward had expected but her hair was tied up in a high pony tail. High cheek bones, or perhaps just her makeup, her adamant attitude and smiling face greeted him warmly at the door. The hostess took them to their table where they sat in a secluded corner near the windows.
Bella noted Edward's appearance as being very disciplined but not too overbearing where it could pass for unrehearsed; he was sleek and put together and he looked much older in comparison. She had fleeting thoughts of running off to the bathroom to wipe off her dark purple lipstick.
"You look frightened; should I be worried you'll bail on me?" Edward said, then realizing that perhaps he was in the wrong; he had been the one ditching her a week ago. He rethought his words but it seemed Bella was already focused on her answer.
"I'm just not used to eating out a lot."
"You don't eat out?"
"I'm a college student. I can't afford to," Bella grimaced at her own comment.
But Edward took this lightly and offered an amiable smile in response. "That's right; you pay for everything yourself."
"Turns out I need text books more than I need Italian food."
"No pizza deliveries?" His expression was somewhat serious and he was all the bit curious if her and her friends had splurged for the occasional take-out. Edward remembered his college days not too long ago and remembered living off of Ramon noodle and mac-and-cheese. And of course, pizza. However, he had not been in the deprived financial state as it seemed Bella was.
His family was wealthy.
"Sure. 'Couponing can make a world's difference.'"
It was then that Edward tilted his head to the side in reaction to the familiar phrasing. Bella watched him nonchalantly before peeling her lips back into a smile.
"Did you just quote me?"
"I told you I was listening during your seminar."
Edward laughed. "I never accused you of not listening; you were the one who said you had heard it all before. From whom I may ask?"
"That makes sense."
The waiter came by, offering the two the wine list. Soon though, the waiter became far too interested in the couple before him, finding them somehow strange, in his opinion. Maybe they were brother and sister, his thoughts pondered. Maybe it wasn't a date at all. In his job description, it was all about proficiency and professionalism and right now, he had been breaking one by staring. The other, by stammering briefly when Edward riddled off the name of a wine the waiter had forgotten about due to lack of sales from it. It was quite an expensive bottle.
Bella didn't know wines, and if she had, she would have never let him order such an extravagant bottle. Talk about spending your money wisely.
But the waiter nodded, took both orders and left.
Back at the table, Edward roamed the girl's face; perhaps searching for an answer to his endless list of questions. Bella noticed he was staring so she put her glass of water back down on the table to ask.
"What are you looking for?" she asked, her fingers playing around the base of her glass.
"Not for. At something."
"And that is?"
"Your face," he said plainly.
Bella's sharply plucked eyebrows rose with interest.
"Should I take that as a compliment?"
"I would, yes," Edward replied. And he meant it with the utmost sincerity because she was simply interesting. To look at, to talk to, to be near. Even her voice was inviting, like it was taunting, curling a finger under his chin and whispering to him.
Bella Swan was not like the other girls he had dated, no, that was obvious. They were a little less inked than she was, Edward though vicariously. However, looking only skin deep would result in a shallow answer. It was soul that she had; character, and moods, and personality. And it was the very reason that she didn't work for his company that made it that much easier to talk to her because for once, Edward Cullen was able to talk to someone who wasn't about the money.
Irena, Kate, Tanya, Carmen; it was like they were programmed into talking only and all about the company. About editing. About policies. About finances.
And tonight, Edward Cullen talked about pizza, and then when their food arrived, they talked about college courses, and in the car ride home, in which Edward drove them both, they spoke of authors like Jack London; Bella's favorite.
And when Edward asked her to come to his flat, it wasn't an expected invitation on Bella's part. She had the opportunity to say no.
But she didn't.
She slipped off her heels and took down her hair; it was longer than Edward had originally thought. The glasses of water acted as props, discarded on the coffee table when in the bedroom, Bella removed her dress.
The lingerie she wore underneath was leather straps connecting her lace underwear to her lace and very see-through bra. She unhooked it all.
Her nipples were pierced.
She rolled down her pantyhose one leg at a time, fingering them off smoothly while tossing them to the floor.
"You've never been with a girl like me," she whispered in Edward's ear slowly; the tendrils of her hair trailing down his chest.
Edward didn't think he had answered out loud but the answer was still 'no'. Because after all, deep shades of purple lips were left on his neck and chest. Her back was covered in more tattoos such as a detailed cross, a crescent moon, and black feathered wings.
And her nails cut into his skin like flames licking his throat.
It was like sleeping with the devil. Or maybe sleeping with a saint.
If either one of them had nipple piercings and eyeliner.
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