Sweet Smoke and Spun Glass | By : Prettyflour Category: Twilight Series > AU/AR > Het > Het Views: 1444 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: Twilight is the property of its owner- Stephanie Meyer. I am in no way associated with the owners,creators,or producers of any media franchise. I make no profit from this- this is for fun! |
Beta'd by VIntagejcg. Pre-read by Kikki7 and NKubie
Summertime started with a bus ride. It's moving slowly, a humid breeze floating in through the widows, exhaust and patchouli filling the air. The passengers are a mixed bag, some friends, and some strangers- all mellow, all high. We all came together to escape the concrete jungle, to get away from the city for a while. We're heading to an artists' commune on the Quileute Reservation. Bloodshot eyes and silly smiles, we pass a jay around and ramble about everything and nothing at all. "I want to see trees, big fucking trees that I can climb." Carlisle takes a hit and holds it in, tilting his head back before turning to his girl, Esme. She leans in like she's going to kiss him but her lips just hover over his before he exhales. The smoke moves like a ghost from his mouth to hers before she kisses him lightly, pulling back and very slowly dragging a finger along his jaw. They stare at each other, smiling big and goofy, and then he reaches out and slides his finger across her bottom lip. Esme traces his eyebrows as Carlisle runs his finger over the shell of her ear. Esme's hands are in his hair scratching and massaging his scalp. Her touch is soft and slow, his reaction is to stare at her in adoration. It's intense, so intense that I feel as though I shouldn't be watching this… this intimate moment between them. Love. It's so…there. So fucking obvious. The way they look at each other makes me smile, blissing me out in a contact high. Carlisle and Esme are beautiful together. She ruffs his sandy blond hair and they both laugh. When he touches her, she shivers. When she smiles, he lets out the quietest contented sigh and his eyes sparkle. Love for sure. I retreat, letting Esme and Carlisle sit low in their seats, whispering, giggling, loving. I sink down, smoke a bowl and listen as Alice and Leah sing along with the radio. I lean back and reach my arms up, stretching. I turn around, smirking at Leah as she shimmies in her seat, singing off key and not caring who stares. Looking past her, I see someone I hadn't noticed before. He takes my breath away. He's in the back seat, sitting criss-cross applesauce, long dreadlocks covering half his face, his brow slightly furrowed as he rolls a joint. His fingers seem to glide over the herb and paper; back and forth he moves his fingers across, smoothing it, rolling until it's perfect. He grins, looking proud of his work, and I bite my lip, smiling. I watch as he pushes his hair away from his face, flexing his forearms and biceps and I'm mesmerized. His dreads are an auburn color and long, past his shoulders; such a contrast to his pale skin. My eyes roam his body, unabashedly staring and putting me in a trance. He is… beautiful. When I look at his face again, I meet his eyes. He's caught me staring. I stop breathing. I stare right back. I should be blushing but I'm not. We are locked in this moment; his green eyes are so bright and so…everything. Soft and warm, comforting and accepting, sparking in amusement as he raises his brow. He holds the joint out as an offering and his brow rises even higher. Okay, now I'm blushing. Heat is pulsating through my entire body as I rise from my seat and make my way to the back. There is one long seat spanning the width of the bus and I sit next to him and cross my legs just like his. He doesn't say anything, just lights it up and takes a small puff before handing it to me. He looks away, brow furrowed again, but a small smile on his lips. I take it, lift it to my lips and inhale deeply. He looks up at me then, those eyes of his piercing and enchanting. I realize that I want him. I want him like I've never wanted anyone else. I know it's crazy, I've just met him, and I don't even know his name, but I can't deny this… this feeling. There is this connection between us and I think he feels it too. His eyes are all over me. Looking at my body he licks his lips and a thrill shoots through me. When he meets my gaze… I am spun- kind of dizzy and I want to touch him. I want his hands to ground me. God… The way he's looking at me... It's the way Carlisle was looking at Esme. I think of everything at once. I just graduated college- a heady sense of liberation and freedom fills me. This whole trip is supposed to be a statement of how I want to live, to get the hell out of California and just live for a while. I vowed to step outside my shy tendencies, to take chances. Right now I want to take that chance. I want to act on this pressing urge to touch him. I've never wanted to touch someone this badly. He's so different from anyone I've ever liked. He doesn't look like a boy, he looks a like a man. Rugged and scruffy, scarred and tattooed; waves colored in sea-foam green rush up his forearms, curling and reaching up behind the sleeves of his shirt. I want to see him. All of him, every patch of ink drilled into his skin. I want to strip down and show him all of me. My body is untouched by scars or ink, so plain compared to his. I want him to paint me with his breath, his lips, his tongue. My chest is heavy now, burning and begging me to exhale, but I don't, not yet. I steel my resolve and lean over, watching his reaction as my lips hover over his. When he leans in and parts his lips, I exhale in a rush. Suddenly his lips are on mine, soft and insistent. The smoke lingers like curtains around us and I am lost. Somehow my hands are now on his shoulders and his are cupping my face, angling me so that he can kiss me deeper. His tongue swirls around mine and I gasp, shivering as his hands caress my face, my neck, my collar bone. My body is buzzing, nerve endings alight as I slide my hand to the back of his neck and pull him closer. It's all moving so fast but in slow motion. How I came to be straddling his lap, I'm not sure, but I love it. I love the simple feel of him, his hands rubbing circles on my back, his lips pressing gentle kisses to the corner of my mouth, his dreads as they tickle my face. Everything feels so good. When he pulls away, I grip the back of his shirt tightly. I don't want to let go. His eyes are on mine, a lazy smile blooming on his lips. "Hi," he says his chest rising and falling so fast. I can feel his heart pounding as I press my hand to his chest. "Hi," I say and my heart is racing too. I slide my hand down and touch his arm where the sea-foam green starts and I trace the wave as far as I can, my fingers wandering up the sleeve of his shirt. He laughs lightly and pushes the sleeve up as high as it will go. The water turns from blue to violet and striking green, swirling patterns adorn his skin and it's like nothing I've ever seen. "I love this," I say, fingers exploring, touching the art branded onto his skin. He murmurs a quiet thank you and I take his other arm. The waves on this one are done in crimson and black. It has a macabre feel to it but it's just as beautiful as the other. This one is a bit more intricate, the waves fierce and raging. "I love it too." My head pops up at the sound of Alice's voice. She sits herself right down next to us and gives me a silly yet knowing grin. She giggles when I blush and I am blushing. Heat rushes my cheeks as I slowly push away from him and I suddenly find Alice's laughter to be infectious. Apparently he does too because before long we're all laughing and Alice is slapping my arm playfully. "Bella! Aren't you going to introduce me to your new friend here?" "Oh," I say because I'm in a daze, still a little breathless from all the kissing and laughing. I look at him- his green eyes heavy lidded but amused. "I'm Edward," he says softly and he's still staring at me, neither one of us looking away. Alice is silent for a moment. "Edward and Bella…" she says and I love the way our names sound together, each syllable falling into the perfect cadence. Taking the joint I had discarded, she lights it up, inhales and gives a slow shake of her head. She holds up the jay, offering it to me and I look away, breaking the spell. I shift in Edward's lap, unsure if I should stay or move. He slides his hand along the small of my back and around my hip, guiding my body as I move to the side. I'm still in his lap, his arm draped around me but now I can look at Alice too. We smoke, slipping away into a stupefied high, and Alice talks a mile-a-minute, every once in a while bursting into song. She sings obnoxiously loud with Leah and we laugh; I laugh so fucking hard that I can't breathe. When Edward laughs it's low and deep. We're so close that I can feel it vibrating through his chest. I've never been a touchy-feely kind of girl, but I love being this close to him, love that he's always touching me. Alice claims she has the munchies and then she's up and in search of food, but I know better. I saw her not-so-chalant wink. She approves and leaves us to our own devices. Our words come easy, our touches lighter as we spend time talking. And I adore talking with Edward. As physically attractive as I find him to be, I'm learning that he is so much more than that. I love the way his eyes light up when he speaks about something he's passionate about, and we share lots of common interests. It's great to talk to someone who shares my love for art and music, someone who relishes using his hands to create. He's teases me about being barefoot and runs his finger along the bottom of my foot every once in a while, causing me to break out into a fit of giggles every time. He has a subdued confidence about him that I find completely irresistible. We're laid back as we talk and every once in a while there are moments of silence that aren't awkward at all- moments that turn into heavy stares and hot stolen kisses. My eyes traverse of every inch of him, my fingertips scout and discover where he's rough and where he's smooth. He hums when I touch him, he breathes a little faster too. When we talk, it's questions and answers, stories and memories wrapped up in a sweet smoke. It's almost odd how comfortable I am with him, how I feel like I could tell him anything after knowing him for such a short time. And time flies when he's near me, hours in his company pass in a rush-rush blur and before I know it, the bus stops. We are hand in hand. When I step off the stairs, the sun hits my face and I breathe deeply. It's not California sun, not crazy hot and stifling. The breeze isn't humid, it's cool, but when Edward's thumb brushes against my cheek, I'm hot all over. "Edward!" Someone shouts from behind us and we disconnect. With a sly grin Edward chuckles and says, "Seth." He extends his hand but Seth scoffs and pulls him into a hug, clapping his hand hard on Edward's back. "Shit, man, I'm so glad to see you. I didn't think you were coming this year." Seth says as he pulls away. "The furnace fired up?" Edward asks and Seth rolls his eyes. "Always," he responds and turns to look at me. "Seth, this is Bella," Edward gestures toward me and I wave to his friend. Seth has long shaggy hair and a big goofy smile. The tank style top he wears shows his extensive ink- a black tribal piece that stretches over both of his arms. He's a big guy, towering over Edward, and yet I get a very mellow vibe from him. His eyes speak volumes; round, wide, and sugary sweet. I kind of want to hug him, so I do. There are introductions all around, new unfamiliar faces mixed with the comfort of Alice and Leah. "Fuck yes!" Carlisle shouts and then he's running, booking it towards the forest laden in giant trees and Esme is cheering him on as he tries to climb. Edward's smile is super warm as he toys with my pinky finger. I lock my pinky around his and move a little closer. "Find me later?" I ask, not wanting my time with him to end but I'm too excited about being here. I want to explore this place. "How about I find you sooner? Give you a tour?" "I'd like that." I step away, he steps away, our hands together, our touch lingering until we're pulled apart; him by Seth, me by Alice. We walk in opposite directions and I can't stop myself from looking over my shoulder, watching as Edward and Seth disappear into the woods. The Quileute Reservation is like another world. Everything is saturated in sage and umber, giant redwoods grow taller than sky scrapers and I decide right away that I'm going to like it here. Alice, Leah and I get settled into our cabin- a place we share with four other artists who haven't arrived yet. I throw myself onto my bed and breathe deeply, waiting for Alice and Leah to pounce. My girls lay beside me; both of them teasingly questioning me about Edward. I sigh then squee, twitter pated and heart locked, at peace but nervous at the thought of him. Leah snorts and pokes my belly. "He's pretty cute, dreadlocks aside." "Hey!" I poke her hard, twice. "I like the dreads. They suit him." It's something I never thought I'd find attractive. I've heard stories about dirty hippie boys with ratty, gross dreads but Edward's are just…him. I've touched and smelled them, laughed as they tickled my face. They are soft but textured and they smell of him- a light musk, some kind of vanilla scented shampoo, a hint of pot, but clean. Alice is quiet, a small smile gracing her pretty face. She shifts closer to me and gives a reassuring squeeze. "You two are ridiculously cute together and I agree with you about the dreads. On him, they work." Leah protests with a groan and I laugh and throw a pillow at her head. A soft knock startles us. Alice winks at me and runs for the door. It's Edward and Seth. They wait while we get ourselves together and then we walk, wandering on stone trails and well-worn foot paths. Seth, Alice and Leah take the lead while Edward and I slowly meander a few steps behind. Spread out amongst the forest are large weathered barns- about a dozen of them, each one housing a different art space, all of them armed to the teeth with tools for a different trade. I meet so many people; see so much creativity, that it bleeds through the walls of each barn. The weathered façade of each building is deceiving. Beyond the cracked wood is varying forms of inspired art and I am so engrossed, so giddy that I am going to be a part of this. The raw talent I am graced to be surrounded by is intimidating at first, but the people here are very down to earth. Their smiles are sincere and their enthusiasm is infectious, so unlike the pretentious art world in L.A. Another thing that strikes me is how quiet it is here. As we walk from barn to barn, there is glorious silence only broken by our words and laughter. It's a breeding ground for thought, for unfettered inspiration. We explore for hours until our rumbling bellies demand attention. We follow Seth as he leads us to the kitchen and I'm just about to step into the door when Edward's hand tightens around mine. "Take a walk with me?" He seems a little nervous, his brow crinkled. My answer is a soft kiss upon his lips to which he smirks and leads me back to the woods. We talk as we walk, our hands swing and smiles blaze. I'm still sort of stunned at the ease of this place, of him, and of us. His passion is glass. He chats animatedly about the things he makes and the things he loves, and I am so excited to see his work space. When he asks what I love, I respond with one word; art. That tiny little word ignites my mind; loosens my tongue and I launch into an explanation on how I express myself. I tell him of my mom and how her finger painting 101 inspired me. I explain how a shortage of money forced me to think outside the box. He's intrigued by my explanation of found art. With little money to buy supplies, I'm used to going without or making my own. I forage junk yards, flea markets and occasionally the trash until I find something that catches my eye. I purposely choose things I think are ugly and then I use whatever I can to make them beautiful. "We're here," he gestures to what I'm guessing is the glass furnace. The structure is much smaller than the others- half done in wood and half done in stone. When I step forward Edward grabs my arm, pulls me back toward him. He gives me a smirk then a kiss on my temple. "I wanted to show you where I work, but maybe another time." I frown a little, curious and confused. "Another time?" "I can't believe I didn't think of this before," he laughs lightly, his gaze dropping to my feet. "You're barefoot." I frown ever deeper. I can't go walking around a glass furnace with no shoes on! I groan at my own stupidity. "Shit, I'm so sorry. I didn't think..." Edward's still smiling, his arms encircling me. "Well... I could carry you." His eyes are playful as he pulls away, turning and crouching low before he says, "Hop on." I don't hesitate. I love that he offers to carry me. The gesture is so sweet and it means that I'm close to him, touching him, smelling him. I love the fact that for the first time as an adult, I'm getting a piggy back ride. I hold on tight and rest my chin on his shoulder as we head to the barn. There is a mess of shelves that line one side of the building holding works made of glass in a riot of bright colors. Edward points out Seth's pieces, showing me the telltale signs of a Seth Clearwater design. Seth has an affinity for darker colors but he always includes a swirl of periwinkle in every piece he makes. He takes us through the door and I'm stunned by the heat inside. On the far side of the wall is the furnace or the hot end, as Edward calls it. It is filled with molten glass that looks like lava and I'm mesmerized by it. It's hard to imagine how this crazy hot oozing substance can become a delicate work of art and I am way anxious to see how it's done. I silently vow to always wear shoes from now on. Edward places me down on the work space counter top, my feet swinging above the floor. He turns slowly and takes my right foot, his hand wrapping around it and guiding it around his hips as he steps between my legs, doing the same with my left foot until my legs are wrapped around him. Suddenly it's sweltering in here and I can't focus on anything other than how close together our bodies are. His hands start at the top of my feet, slowly traveling around my calves then my knees, his fingertips brushing tenderly over the outside of my thighs. He leans into to kiss me and it is so sweet- tiny peppered kisses to my jaw. His lips press just below my ear and I slide my hand around his back and shudder as I feel his mouth on my neck, instinctively pulling him closer. He holds me tight, his body so close to mine- touching everywhere but...it's all heart, like lust was pushed aside for something more. His lips hover; washing hot and heavy breaths on my skin. I feel over-sensitive and flushed. My mind stutters over how good this feels, how right and at the same time, I am simply spun over how fast this is happening. I look at the ink on his arms, the vivid almost violent waves that crest and crash and I feel like that's us- a storm that came out of nowhere, fierce but beautiful. My heart is beating fast again and his is too, I can feel it. We stay here hugging tight, wrapped up in each other and simply trying to take it all in and feel it out. Our words are few, our stares are constant, and our tickles, whispers and laughter ring out, intertwining in the silence that surrounds us here. I think I love this boy. I think I fall in love him over and over again every time our eyes meet.
~O~
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