could easily moderate the pressure of my hand. It wasn't exactly difficult, as long as I was firmly in control of myself. My tactile sense was better developed than a human's; I could juggle a dozen crystal goblets without breaking any of them; I could stroke a soap bubble without popping it. As long as I was firmly in control...
"And you're always in control, so it will be fine," Bella said.
"He's not always in control... we've seen him out of control," Jacob said anxiously.
Bella just frowned at that and Jacob read on.
Bella was like a soap bubble - fragile and ephemeral. Temporary.
How long would I be able to justify my presence in her life? How much time did I have? Would I have another chance like this chance, like this moment, like this second?
She would not always be within my arm's reach...
Bella turned to face me at the gym's door, and her eyes widened at the expression on my face. She didn't speak. I looked at myself in the reflection of her eyes and saw the conflict raging in my own. I watched my face change as my better side lost the argument.
"Who's to say what the better said is, Edward?" Bella mumbled to herself but Jacob heard.
My hand lifted without a conscious command for it to do so. As gently as if she were made of the thinnest glass, as if she were fragile as a bubble, my fingers stroked the warm skin that covered her cheekbone. It heated under my touch, and I could feel the pulse of blood speed beneath her transparent skin.
Enough, I ordered, though my hand was aching to shape itself to the side of her face. Enough.
"He doesn't sound too controlled now," Jacob muttered.
"He's touch is gentle... it's not hurting me," Bella said.
"But his mind doesn't seem to have control over his actions," Jacob countered. "His instincts do."
"And what instinct is he following now?" Bella raised her eyebrows. "It's not to hurt me."
"Right," Jacob mumbled, "but there still is an instinct in him that wants to hurt you... don't forget that."
"I won't," Bella sighed. "But that isn't the only instinct he has towards me now."
It was difficult to pull my hand back, to stop myself from moving closer to her than I already was. A thousand different possibilities ran through my mind in an instant - a thousand different ways to touch her. The tip of my finger tracing the shape of her lips. My palm cupping under her chin. Pulling the clip from her hair and letting it spill out across my hand. My arms winding around her waist, holding her against the length of my body.
Enough.
I forced myself to turn, to move away from her. My body moved stiffly - unwilling.
I let my mind linger behind to watch her as I walked swiftly away, almost running from the temptation. I caught Mike Newton's thoughts - they were the loudest - while he watched Bella walk past him in oblivion, her eyes unfocused and her cheeks red. He glowered and suddenly my name was mingled with curses in his head; I couldn't help grinning slightly in response.
"Too bad Mikey," Jacob said, trying to chuckle again.
My hand was tingling. I flexed it and then curled it into a fist, but it continued to sting painlessly.
No, I hadn't hurt her - but touching her had still been a mistake.
It felt like fire - like the thirsting burn of my throat had spread throughout my entire body.
The next time I was close to her, would I be able to stop myself from touching her again? And if I touched her once, would I be able to stop at that?
"Yes," Bella answered, there was no doubt in her, though Jacob wasn't totally convinced.
No more mistakes. That was it. Savor the memory, Edward, I told myself grimly, and keep your hands to yourself. That, or I would have to force myself to leave...somehow. Because I couldn't allow myself near her if I insisted on making errors.
I took a deep breath and tried to steady my thoughts.
Emmett caught up to me outside the English building.
"Hey, Edward." He's looking better. Weird, but better. Happy.
"Ah... and him being happy is weird," Jacob chuckled.
"Hey, Em." Did I look happy? I supposed, despite the chaos in my head, I felt that way.
Way to keep your mouth shut, kid. Rosalie wants to rip your tongue out.
"I like to see her try... and then get beaten down," Jacob chuckled.