Experimentos utilizando Tropes

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Chapter: 23

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.

STAMPEDE OF A THOUSAND PULSES 23. Snippets of the now

Shifts, major ones, they reshape everything and leave room for improvement. Timing and whereabouts, changes and events—things that are inevitable but unlikely at first glance all of a sudden progress.

Had anyone dared ask me back then, back when things were just too hard and too inconceivable, I would have moped and over analyzed. But things change, and for that I am grateful.

She rolls to her side, her long hair falling over her shoulder as she whispers, "Good morning," and it makes me want to sigh aloud. I feel stupid; a good kind of idiocy that makes my stomach flip. This girl makes me feel so silly, so much younger than I am.

"Good morning."

"I have class today," she tells me. "So I'm going to have to leave you here."

I reach forward, pulling her to me. Her face buries into my chest, and although air is humid, her warmth is welcome.

"Sucks…wanted a whole day in bed."

After a while of silent cuddling, I watch as she shyly gets up, the sight of her ass hidden under my t-shirt is pretty in the dim lighting of her cramped dorm room. She goes away for a shower, returning later only to roll her eyes and call me lazy. I stretch out under her covers, my morning erection going a little limp after missing her.

I'm not too desperate to make love, which in theory is unusual. Maybe it's due to us both coming to terms with the fact that things although nice are still weird. For a couple who had been together continuously for six years to have a sudden long term break, it feels jump start-ish to just sink back in.

But I can hardly complain, feeling her yesterday left me so high. I smiled so hard walking away from that laundry room, like what we did was so naughty, but in the same breath, so sweet. It was like being a teenager all over again, like taking steps, rediscovering who we were sexually… but this time its equal and its open, and it finally feels solid.

"What are we doing later?" I ask curiously—my mind drifts to kissing, rubbing, touching.

She shrugs, stuffing a huge pencil case into her backpack. "Whatever you want."

"I wanna do whatever you want."

"I'm not fussed."

"But I want you to be."

"It's no big deal, Edward."

"Yes it is."

The air falls flat as I shuffle to the end of the single bed. I sit, and stare at her as she stands and stares at me. Bella scoffs, crosses her arms about her chest, and she looks so adorable trying to be stern.

"Fine," she says. "You're giving me a manicure and pedicure tonight."

I can't exactly say that this is what I would have wanted, but I can't find it in me to deny her, and so I just nod and say, "Okay, manicure it is."

"Yup." She flings her bag over her shoulder, walks toward the door. "Later."

"Wait, wait, wait!"

I know she's smiling. She's half way out the door by the time I grab her from behind. "It's obligatory to kiss the boyfriend before you leave him all on his lonesome." I press myself to her, loving the way I can do so, so freely.

"Edward, people can see."

I look up momentarily. Processions of girls are walking up and down the hall. I assume that it must be a popular time for classes to start—but my shame is small, and Bella's form is hiding my lower body.

I snuggle into her neck. "Then get back in here and kiss me goodbye, baby."

We walk backward until I can slam the door shut. She turns in my arms, and pushes my back to the wall. I grin and draw her to me as she tip toes and kisses me softly. "See you later."

I keep a hold of her, licking my lips and dipping my head for another kiss. She allows it, our tongues touching and tasting until she pulls back again. "You need to brush your teeth."

"You don't like me dirty?"

She readjusts her bag and re-opens the door, smiling still at my playful mood. "I'm gonna be late for class."

"I'll miss you," I tell her.

She kisses my nipple. She bites her lip and hums as she looks at me standing in just my boxers. "You're so sexy,"

she says aimlessly. Her attention seems to drift as she overlooks me. With a slight huff she speaks, "Clothes are optional by the way."

I smirk, knowing that she wants me, loving that she does. "We're having a naked day?"

"Oh no, I have this new fascination with dresses and all things girly. Clothes are optional for you."

I watch her TV. I eat what I can find in her mini fridge. I stare at an old note book. I get invasive, but I find nothing private. I flip through it… learn a little about the baroque period, a little about her favorite artist, a lot about the old architecture of western Europe. I flip another page and what I see makes me smile—my name, my name in a heart, our names, our names in a heart.

Edward Masen.

I look.

Isabella Masen.

I keep looking.

Edward and Isabella Masen.

My heart speeds up.

"Hey." Bella's back.

I snap the notepad shut but it's a little too late, by the time she reaches me it's painfully obvious that I've been snooping through her stuff. She peers over my shoulder. "You're so nosey," she scolds, kissing me there briefly.

"Find anything interesting?"

I don't know why I do what I'm about to; it just tumbles from my mouth before I even have the time to process it.

"You want to marry me?"

Her eyebrows shoot up. "You're asking or you're asking?"

I swallow, realizing how confusing I sound. "I was looking… I mean… you wrote our names out… Isabella Masen…" I stutter.

She looks to the note book, finally understanding. "It was… idle," she murmurs. "I was bored in class and…"

My body acts instinctively, my hand stroking her cheek, my lips meeting hers to keep her from feeling as though this is something that scares me. I ease back up and stare at her. "Its fine," I tell her.

She nods, blushing slightly. She looks embarrassed.

"Really," I insist.

"You're not running for the hills?"

"I'm through with slippery slopes," I say, eyeing her mouth, wanting to kiss her again.

"I love you, but that doesn't mean I want you to rush anything with me."

"I know."

"We have to take it easier this time around."

"I know."

"And so, slower is better," she adds.

I dive in again and kiss her again, and whisper into our kiss. "I'll marry you someday."

She pulls back. "You don't have to tell me that."

"…but I want to."

Her smile is heartfelt. "I want to, too."

I nod my head back toward her notepad. "I noticed."

She punches my chest.

I hold her close and think of how lucky I am.

"You suck at this."

I ignore her and paint her third toe blue. So far, her toes are pink, red, purple and now, blue. I feel quite

accomplished as I stroke the tiny brush against her nail, but as soon as I pull back I realize that I have to squint in order to fuzz out the mess.

Bella wiggles her toes and scrunches her nose. "Art is not your forte."

I screw her nail polish shut and blow to dry her toes off. "Not all art is precise… what about Impressionism?" I look at her feeling a little more confident. "Abstract?"

"Why do all academics make excuses for their shoddiness?"

"Why are all creatives so quick to stifle my flow?"

"I don't stifle you."

"You're doing it now, you putting down my first attempts at painting."

She looks down at her messed up nails. "No Edward, I'm just being honest. You suck."

"Oh yea?" I shift up from my bended knees, in turn she shuffles back. I hover over her, grinning down at her pretty face. "I suck?"

"Are you going to somehow turn that into something dirty?"

I bring my mouth to hers, our lips just shy of touching. "Only if you want me to."

"That means yes, and I just caught you out…"

"So?"

She shifts and I feel the tips of her braless chest brush against mine. It feels nice, but I don't want to force anything, I want it to happen naturally. I'm waiting for her to start.

"So kiss me."

I stare at her, brushing her hair back, just admiring the view. She pouts and repeats herself, "Kiss me."

Bending, I press my lips to her forehead. I pull back, raising my eyebrows, knowing that she'll persist for more, and she does. Being this way is my new favorite thing, and it's coming easy. I can do this without thinking, without worrying, without feeling numb afterward.

"No fair," she says.

I swoop in and kiss her nose.

"Edward…"

I kiss the corner of her mouth.

She pokes me in the chest.

I grin and kiss her finally, her lips so soft against mine. I kiss her as softly as I can. I feel her sigh against me, and so I feel free to do the same. "I love you," I whisper, tasting her, feeling as though I could go on forever

Bella pushes back on my chest. Her cheeks puff out, her color a little pink. "Oxygen," she huffs, giggling slightly.

"You're so pretty."

She sucks in her bottom lip, hiding her bashful smile. "Quit it with the sweet talk."

Her eyes stray, I know I'm embarrassing her but I can't help it. I smile, dipping my head to her ear. "Pretty girl." I draw her lobe into my mouth, suddenly feeling sensual, sexual… "I'll always want you," I whisper huskily. She whimpers, her body pushing against mine, my body pressing back into hers. "You're so special." I lick her there, kiss her neck, find my way to her mouth. I don't make it to a kiss, because her eyes are so doe like, and they stop me before I can. "What's wrong?"

Bella shakes her head. "Nothing… just…" She smiles gently. "You're special too."

It will never stop; the need to hear her tell me I mean something to her.

"I'm proud of you… you're so different now."

I frown, purse my lips. "Am I?"

"You're happy," she tells me. "Did the trip do that?"

No… I know why and how and when it all changed. I know that once I let go of all my anger, all my resentment, I stopped being so obsessed with getting high—with filling that cliché void. And what's even more cliché is that it was most definitely me, and not her. The silliness of it all, the way something so trite could hinder one of the most important things to me, hurts still.

I roll to rest on my back, my arms a little achy from keeping my weight on her light. I pull her into me. "I think I just needed time to get to know myself. I was so emo you know?"

"I think I was too," she adds with a chuckle.

"When you're like that it's your moods that control you. I let every emotion I felt stifle me."

"So that's it?"

I breathe in, curling a strand of her long dark hair around my finger. "No…wanting to know who I was." And then I think harder, and I realize a big truth, something that pushed and blew me into the direction I hankered for, for so long. "And you."

She doesn't scoff, but I can tell that her tone is incredulous. "Me?"

"I guess I wanted to know if it would change the way I felt about you."

Bella draws figures of eight on my arm, I hold her closer.

"There were points I wanted you out of my system." I think of Emmett, how jealous it made me knowing that they were friends, that she had confided in him… "I was so needy for you, desperate… thought that the only way that want might go away was if I used or…" I breathe out. "Fuck I don't know, but it was that intense sometimes."

She continues drawing on my skin. "I understand."

"You do?"

She hums. "I think for the first time I understood."

"How?"

"That break nearly killed me, nearly…" She gently places her leg over mine. "Age old tale," she sighs, "…it only makes you stronger. It made me realize that even if it hurt, it didn't mean that my life had to stop. When I finally got it, I don't know… I let go."

"Of me?"

"No." She looks up. "Don't take this badly, but I think I forgave you. If we hadn't broken up, I don't even think I would have realized that I was mad at you."

All I do is nod, because I understand. I get that she may have resented me… in a way it was expected. "Thank you,"

I tell her.

She pushes herself up, her lips connecting with mine. "So are you ready for your epic journey?"

"Epic journey?"

"Of self discovery… find out what you want and stuff."

"And stuff?" I chuckle. I smile, somewhat sad at the root the journey had to take, but relieved that it brought me back. "I know that I want to be successful. I know that I want to get older and wiser, and I want a house somewhere I can bring up a family. I want at least two kids, I want a dog, and I want to travel some more with my kids…" I hold her close to me. "With my wife."

"There you go with the pseudo marriage proposal again."

"I will marry you, Bella."

"You will?" Her nose wrinkles cutely.

I lean down to kiss her long and hard, her breath catches short, and as I pull back I murmur, "Just say the word; I'll be more than willing to become the Mr. to your Mrs."

"You sure?"

I think about my father. I think about his advice, his adamancy concerning my becoming a man… 'Don't ever be flighty; it will get you no where.' I realize that the man I want to be wants to go somewhere. At heart I am co-dependant, I know this at least. I know that I need a support system, someone that will be there and love me.

And so, who else but her?

I've cried and felt sorry for myself. I've wondered and worried about how and when it would all get better… But

being a man is realizing that itnever gets better on its own, that you make it better. You pick yourself up and decide that it has to get better… even if the situation tells you different.

"I know that you're it for me. I've made up my mind… my heart made it up for me a long time ago."

"You're so corny."

"Honesty is corny sometimes," I shrug.

"I'll marry you, Edward."

I grin and lace my fingers with hers. "When?"

"Hm, don't know…" she plays. "When you're a little richer?"

"I always knew you were in it for the money."

"Oh yea," she scoffs. "Once I knew for sure that you'd pursue becoming a doctor, I was ready and waiting."

I notice that we aren't as wrapped up as we could be, so in turn I scoop her up in my arms, placing my lips to the skin below her ear. I know this is a tender spot for her, and so I tease and touch with mouth. I feel her breath, hot and warm… she sighs, gripping my hair between her fingers.

I move down, sliding my lips over her neck, feeling her shiver as I kiss every expanse of skin that my mouth finds.

Kissing her is nice—doesn't matter—mouth, neck, collar—everywhere is nice.

"Edward," she sighs.

I keep kissing, along her throat, up her jaw…

It progresses—my kisses—to the rise of her breasts—her tank top flimsy and small enough to expose her. Her breathing increases, more rising and falling, nipples push through thin cotton. I brush them, my thumb catching the taut covered tip, and all of a sudden I have an indescribable need to see them.

Bella looks down, her eyes meeting mine. She doesn't need any further explanation, her hands pull up the material. I look on and swallow, my heart picks up speed… her body, it does this to me, the look and feel of soft flesh under my finger tips.

"You're so beautiful," I say, licking my lips with hunger. And that is how it is, a sudden rush of righteous hunger. I want to love her slow and long. I want to spend hours tasting every inch of her body.

She is topless now, her pure skin almost shining under the now dimming daylight. Her neck, shoulders, arms… all pretty, but nothing beats the fullness—the new fullness of her breasts. I grow weak at the sight of them, my cock hardening almost instantly as I imagine them in my mouth… and I want them, I want them all the time.

And so I take them. I shift so that I am now kneeling; my legs at either side of her thighs so that I place my hands on my favorite part. I squeeze gently, circling my palm over her pebbled nipples. I feel her rotate beneath my hips, something she always does, and it comforts me oddly — makes me feel less jittery concerning our touching. She whimpers, her body arching to press against mine. She doesn't speak at this point but her skin sizzles, her nipples point, her hips undulate.

I drag my mouth down, down, down until I am sucking gently on a peak. I am trying to be careful, not rushing, taking my time to make her sex dampen, make it slick for whatever it is we are about to do.

And I don't want to presume. I don't want to think that so far ahead or even deduce the thought of me being inside of her. It may just be my fingers, it may just be my tongue…

"Edward."

I keep sucking, licking from one nipple to another, driving her mad and heating her up. I don't mind. I don't mind one bit. All this pleasing is just as pleasing… her tits are so pretty, and the fleshiness is sweet on my tongue. I want more. I want to lick and suck until they grow cripple from delight. And so I do, I take each in my mouth and revere with my tongue until she can not take much more.

"I love it when you do this," she tells me, her chest constricting. "Feels so good, so..." She moans out as she eyes my tongue languidly licking her nipple.

And I want more, more of this reaction, more of her heated skin. I want to see her combust. I want to see her arrive a million times before I spill my white.

It's simple really. It's something I will gladly get used to. I will please her until she tells me she wants different. I owe her this. And it's probably the wrong time to admit it, when she's quivering beneath me. "Bella, I want to make

It's simple really. It's something I will gladly get used to. I will please her until she tells me she wants different. I owe her this. And it's probably the wrong time to admit it, when she's quivering beneath me. "Bella, I want to make

In document Interoperabilidad Semantica para un Sistema de Informacion para el Control Interno (página 85-122)