Bella was late to class, which wasn't usual, but Edward didn't worry; he'd seen her run away from Alice and Rosalie, but saw them leave soon after, and assumed they were together.
His sisters' insistence that the boys not join them for lunch would have amused him if this thing with Bella weren't so emotionally charged.
He grimaced thinking about it. Where Bella Swan was concerned, he was tossed in so many different directions that he didn't know what he felt, and that just made him feel angry. It wasn't her fault, he tried to tell himself, but it wasn't easy to accept.
Especially when she rushed into class several minutes after the bell, panting, and threw herself into her seat next to him.
She didn't look his way, but she didn't need to. Her breath pooling around her, the scent stirred up by the heat of her body, the rush of her blood into tiny capillaries so near the surface of her skin - it was almost too much to bear.
He grabbed the corner of the sturdy lab table and held it tightly, clenched his jaw and tried not to breathe.
Right now it felt more like it would be safer to expose himself by not breathing than by attacking his lab partner in the middle of the damn classroom. Edward stared straight ahead, not seeing the board or hearing the teacher prattle on about flatworms.
And just what were Rose and Alice thinking, anyway, trying to make friends with the girl? Besides Rose's obvious motive, that was.
He wouldn't put it past the two of them to lure her into a friendship so that she'd be at the Cullen household all the time, and he'd never get any peace. If that happened, he swore to himself, he wouldn't stand for it.
He'd leave, and stay away until they got it through their thick heads that he didn't want anyone trying to play matchmaker for him and he was in no mood to be teased and tormented.
It was bad enough that he had to sit next to her for an hour each school day, her body so tantalizingly close and yet her mind an utter blank.
Trying to hear her thoughts was like trying to climb a sheer glass wall - not even a vampire could do it. So why, he demanded of himself, did he keep trying?
As they broke up into pairs to complete their labwork, Edward heard something he hadn't expected: Bella's voice. Unbidden, uncoaxed, she was speaking to him.
"I'm sorry," she said.
Dear god, for what? She couldn't possibly know what her nearness did to him, so what was she apologizing for? Being late? That was no skin off his back.
Being an inadequate lab partner? She was smart and capable; he had no complaints with her work, though she rarely spoke.
But what, then, was she talking about? He risked a sideways glance and saw her focusing intently on his hands as he busied himself slowly setting out their lab equipment.
She was chewing worriedly on her lower lip, and he almost lost it. The gesture was so heartrendingly adorable and innocently sweet that he felt his heart begin to melt. But at the same time, he was afraid her dull human teeth might inadvertently tear the tender skin, drawing blood.
That would be just about the worst thing that could happen when he wasn't sure he was entirely in control of himself. Without thinking about anything else, he reached forward swiftly and tucked her chin in his hand, placing his thumb just below her lip and gently tugging it free of her bite.
He moved too fast for her to flinch away before he touched her, but the moment his skin met hers he felt the physical manifestation of panic flood her body, and she pulled away from his hand with more force than was actually necessary for the gentle touch.
He blinked, trying to figure her reaction out, before he remembered what Rose and Esme suspected. In the split second after she pulled free, staring at him with suspicion and fear written plainly in her big brown eyes, he made the decision not to make a big deal out of her reaction.
He didn't know what Rose would suggest he do, but he aimed to ask her when next he saw her.
"What are you sorry for?" he asked lightly, turning back to the equipment on the desk. "Other than gnawing on yourself, that is. Lips like yours should be treated with more care."
Now where had that come from? He hadn't meant to say it, and he wasn't in the habit of letting things slip that he didn't intend. Scowling inwardly at himself, he risked a glance sideways again.
Holy hell, she was blushing. His heart melted again as he saw the faint trace of pink light her cheeks, and he couldn't completely stop the smile that wanted to break like dawn over his face. It was all he could do to keep one side of his mouth firm; the other crooked upward as he tried to keep his eyes off of her and failed. Miserably.
She wasn't looking at him, and she was nervously toying with a pencil in her hands. He wanted to put his own hand over hers and still them, but he managed to keep the urge under control.
She clearly didn't like to be touched, and he wouldn't dream of violating her personal boundaries, no matter how much he wanted to touch her.
"I know you sit with your family at lunch," she said, her voice hesitant, a little shaky, and he wasn't sure if it was just talking that made her sound so nervous or whether it was the shock of his recent touch. "Rosalie told me to join her today, so I did. I didn't mean to mess up your routine."
Mess up his routine? How could she think -
Wait. Edward narrowed his eyes a little bit. She was messing with his routine, and sitting with his sisters at lunch was the smallest of the disturbances.
His immediate reaction was to respond with cordial, soothing words, assuring her politely that it was no trouble at all, and far be it for him to protest when his sisters wanted girl time.
Instead, he found himself saying, "Well, make it up to me, then."
She started to nod, but froze when the rest of his words left his mouth.
"Sit with me tomorrow at lunch. Then we'll be even."
Bella was watching him with the strangest expression on her face, like she wanted to say yes but was too suspicious to believe he meant it.
She turned away after a long moment, picked up a test tube filled with an alcohol solution, and promptly dropped it again.
The glass cracked, and liquid splashed across her notes and onto her sleeved arm. She flinched again, and this time Edward distinctly heard a hiss of pain. Before she could do anything else, he caught her wet arm and pulled the sleeve back, gently.
A cut that looked too deep to be accidental marred her smooth arm. Thankfully it was on the back of her arm, away from the vital arteries near her tender wrist, but it still looked fresh and angry.
He could imagine that spilling rubbing alcohol, even diluted in water, on a wound like that would not feel pleasant.
"You as clumsy at home as you are here?" he forced himself to say, holding her arm steady and pulling her gently toward the sink at the back of the classroom. She followed, but jerked her arm away from him.
He could easily have held it despite her small, human attempts to free herself, but he didn't. There was no need to scare her further by refusing to let go. Still, he followed her to the sink and watched as she ran cold water over her arm.
"I've always been a klutz," she said, her voice quiet and dark, as she ripped some coarse paper towel off the brown roll and held it to her dripping arm.
Some of the water sopped up by the towel was tinged pink. Edward flinched, but he was surprised that he felt no bloodlust, only concern for the delicate human girl standing in front of him.
He wanted to know what had really happened to put that mark on her arm, but he knew better than to expect a truthful answer from her. If her father really was abusing her to the point of causing injuries like this, then there was no doubt she'd be too afraid to admit it.
So, though he wanted confirmation and he wanted it now, he let her lie. "I even ran through a sliding glass door when I was little."
"Really? I got stepped on by a horse when I was a kid," Edward said, but it sounded weak even to his own ears. To his surprise, he saw a faint smile touch her expressive mouth. Did she find him amusing? That was a novel idea. He didn't think anyone had ever considered him funny before.
"Everything all right back here?" the teacher asked, coming over to peer at them.
"Yes, sir," Edward said, pitching his voice to the soothing, reassuring tone that worked so well with human authority figures. "Just a little spill. We'll get it cleaned up right away."
"Let me know if you need help," the teacher responded before he drifted away again, and Edward grabbed more paper towels to mop up their desk. Heading back in that direction, he felt Bella following him. He could almost feel her eyes on his back, measuring him, trying to figure him out. Well, too bad. He couldn't figure her out, and he was more than willing to leave her at a disadvantage, too.
"Can you write with that hand?" Edward asked, noticing that it was her right arm that was wounded.
"Sure." Her voice was faint, noncommittal.
"Then you take notes," he said, fetching her pencil from where it had fallen under the desk and placing it in her hand. "I'll do the actual experimenting stuff. Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself any more today."
"Thanks." Her voice was still faint, and he risked a sideways glance. Her delicate face was very, very pale, and little beads of sweat pricked her hairline.
He thought about asking her if she wanted to go to the nurse, but decided not to. There was no reason to push her just yet.
Besides, he wanted to talk to Rose before he did anything more.
______________________
A/N- I'll upload daily to the best of my abilities. I've also made a Patreon where you can read chapters ahead! Not only does this help fund my tuition but it also motivates me to keep writing :D
Patreon.com/Raphel00