Traveling Soldier: Chapter 1

“For it was not into my ear you whispered, but into my heart. It was not my lips you kissed, but my soul.” – Judy Garland

Disclaimer: As usual, I own nothing, SM owns all. No copyright infringement is intended, but I do own the plot, so no stealing please.

An: I hope you enjoy the first chapter! Buff82 beta’d and Beegurl13 pre-read. *Lemon alerts* for this chapter as well.

Chapter 1: Goodbye is Just a Word

I’m sitting in the coffee shop waiting on him, but he’s already fifteen minutes late. He’s always late, so I’m not sure why I still expect otherwise. There are some things you can count on in life – that it’ll rain at least every other day in Forks, that my father will be fishing every Sunday afternoon, and that Edward will be never be on time.

I chuckle to myself at the familiar thought and take a sip of the steaming hot liquid in my hands. It’s the middle of November, and the temperatures have been steadily dropping this past week. Just as I go to set my cup down I see a flash of bronze hair walk briskly past the window, and a slow grin stretches involuntarily across my lips.

He’s here.

I watch him open the door - I specifically chose this booth so that I could see him when he comes in. He doesn’t see me at first, so I take my time watching him; I’ve always liked watching him. His tall, slender body moves gracefully through the small shop as he makes his way to the counter. I know what he’s ordering – a simple hot chocolate, because he’s not into all those “fancy coffee drinks” as he calls them.

Secretly, I’ve taken to ordering the same. He hands over his cash and smiles at the cashier, and I can see the hope flicker in her eyes for just a second, because in the next moment he’s turned to look for me, and once he does, his entire face brightens with an even wider smile. The cashier glares at me, but I can’t be bothered by her.

The immature side of me wants to stick my tongue out at her, but I know better, so I ignore the holes she is attempting to burn into my forehead.

“Late as usual I see,” I tease as he sits down across from me, feeling much more relaxed than I have in days. Edward always has this effect on me.

“At least I’m consistent,” he jokes back, removing his jacket and placing it on the back of his chair, his green eyes sparkling with laughter. He takes a sip of his own drink, but his face scrunches in pain when he realizes it’s still much too hot. Edward purses his lips, and I know he’s thinking over his words; I wait as he does. It takes him only a second before he speaks again. “You haven’t answered my calls.”

It’s a statement, not a question, and one I’m not surprised to hear. I’ve been avoiding his calls all week, but I finally texted him earlier in the evening to meet me. I could never stay away from him for too long. “I don’t know what to say,” is the only reply I have, and he nods his head, but otherwise doesn’t respond.

We’re silent for a few moments, and I can feel the calm that surrounded me when he first arrived quickly dissipate. We’re on edge, both of us still wanting to pretend that things are normal, that this is just a typical day between two lovers. Sadly, we are well aware of what lies ahead, looming like a dark cloud above our heads with a forecast of storms.

Gathering up my courage, I finally ask the one question that has been weighing on my mind for the past week. “When do you leave?” I try to keep the bitter anger out of my voice, but it’s still there.

Green eyes lock on mine, and I am momentarily held captive. I have known the boy – no, man – in front of me my entire life. He pulled my hair, and I stomped on his feet when we were five. He kissed me, and I punched him when we were ten. And when we were sixteen, I fell in love with him and gave him my heart, with the promise that it will never be broken.

What surprises me is the guilty, agonized look that his eyes are reflecting back at me then, and suddenly I know I’m missing some important piece of information. “What is it?” I ask, my voice taking on an edge of panic.

“Tomorrow.”

I crinkle my nose in confusion, though somewhere in the back of mind I know exactly what he means.

I ask him anyway. “What’s tomorrow?”

His eyes drop to the table. “I leave.”

Two simple words are spoken, and I feel as if the floor has been ripped out from underneath me, opening wide and trying to swallow me whole. My mouth is opening and closing on repeat, no sound coming out, and I fear that I might be hyperventilating from shock.

“Tomorrow?” I question, just to be sure I’ve heard him right, because this must be some kind of cruel joke. My best friend, the love of my life, did not just tell me he was leaving me in less than twenty-four hours. And then I’m angry. I’m angry that he’s leaving, angry that it’s all happening so soon, and more angry at myself for having kept myself away from him during the few days we had left to be together.

A hoarse whisper answers, “Yes.”

I’m seething on the inside, while another part of me – my heart – tugs a little in sympathy for the way Edward sounds when he speaks to me. But I don’t have time to feel sorry for him, because another thought occurs to me then, “What about Em?” There’s a small part of me that hopes I won’t be completely abandoned, and that perhaps our third musketeer in this life-long friendship will still be around to be my rock when I know I’ll need a friend the most. When Edward finally looks up at me, unshed tears threatening to fall, that small bit of hope vanishes.

“We made sure we would be leaving together. Our bus heads out at ten a.m. tomorrow morning. I’m so sorry Bella,” he explains, but those final four words don’t even register in my mind.

"Are you kidding me? What the hell Edward!?" The words are out of my mouth before I realize, and I simultaneously jump out of my seat, effectively knocking over my drink. His eyes widen in shock at my outburst, and we both take notice of the stares surrounding us. I don't care, so I storm out the door because fresh air is the best thing for me right now.

Once outside, I lean against the side of the building and close my eyes, taking deep, calming breaths. It isn't long before I feel that familiar buzz signaling his presence. I open my eyes to look at him; he needs to see the pain he's caused me. However, the distraught look on his face is enough to bring me to my knees, and I slide down the wall to sitting position as I feel tears overtake my face.

My fingers are itching to touch him; I feel them twitch, but I’m still too angry.

"I'm sorry," he says in a whisper. He sits down beside me and tries to wrap his arm around my shoulders, but I shy away from him, something that never happens. "I...," he begins, but I just shake my head frantically, signaling him to be quiet.

My entire body is screaming at me to let him hold me, to bask in the comfort he’s offering, but then I remember that he’s the one who caused this. I want to crawl inside him, just to be as close as I can possibly be, and then maybe I can still be with him. Instead of being left behind.

"No. You have to understand that for as long as I can remember, it’s been you, me, and Em. Us three against the world, and now you're telling me that both my boyfriend and my best friend are leaving me behind. That's a lot to take in. Yes, I am angry, but more so, I am hurt. Hurt that neither of you thought to give me enough time to wrap my head around something of this magnitude. The idea of being left behind. How else did you expect me to react?" I sob.

He reaches out again, and this time I let him hold me. It isn’t that I am upset about him going into the Army. In fact, I thought that the idea of him serving our country is a great cause, but I am hurt by the fact that he didn’t discuss the decision with me. He made a choice that affects both of our futures, and then dropped the surprise on me without any warning. I didn’t even realize he was considering joining the military. It came as no surprise, however, that Emmett announced he’d also signed up. Those two are a pair – never going somewhere without the other.

We sit together on the sidewalk, ignoring the looks of the few people still walking by. He rocks me against him and shushes me as I continue to cry. It’s several long minutes before I can find my voice, and then I’m sputtering an apology, because I feel horrible for how I’ve treated him.

“I’m sorry that I spent our last week together without you,” I choke out, my emotions getting the best of me. It is getting dark out, and I know we need to leave soon, especially before anyone else sees us. This is a small town, people talk. I stand from the ground, our drinks still inside on the table, cold and forgotten. Edward stands with me and takes my hand, leading me to my truck.

I ask him to ride with me, and he doesn’t protest. Just like I knew he wouldn’t. We drive down towards the beach, and I am able to park close enough to the water that we can lay in the truck bed, staring up at the sky, with blankets bundled up around us as we cling to one another; both to savor our body heat and to just be in the other’s arms.

“Where are they sending you?” I ask him, because I can’t imagine not knowing where he’ll be for the next year and a half. He’s never gone somewhere I didn’t know about, and, more often than not, I was with him when he went.

I could feel him tense slightly beside me, “Can we not talk about this?” His voice is soft and quiet, almost as if he is trying to keep the serenity of the moment, not tainting it with loud sounds and harsh words. “I want tonight to be just about us, nothing else.”

It is no time to argue, so I don’t dwell on his answer. He’s right anyway; it is a time to be together, because who knows when the next time he’ll hold me in his arms will be.

It is with that thought motivating me, driving me to savor our last few hours together, that I silently shift myself to so that I am looking down at him, and I lean in to capture his lips. They’re chilled and slightly chapped by the November air, but I don’t mind. He tastes like chocolate and cinnamon, and simply Edward. I want more.

He makes a deep rumbling sound in the back of his throat when I open my mouth to deepen our kiss, and I grin against his lips at his reaction. The blanket slips from around me as I press myself further into his body, rubbing myself against him, wanting to get impossibly closer. I shiver when the cold air hits my back, he moans at the added movement, but helps secure the scratchy cloth tightly around us once more.

I’m getting lost in the taste of his lips on mine, the feel of him, hard and ready, against my leg, the urgent need to consume him as his hands explore my body. We’re both panting desperately in our need for air, but unyielding in our need to remain close.

His hands slide up the back of my shirt, and I want to strip him bare to feel the smooth skin of his chest on mine, but I know the weather prevents me from doing so.

Instead, I settle for wiggling my way out of jeans without ever dropping the blanket, though I barely notice the cold when Edward’s near; the raw desire in his eyes as he realizes what I’m doing is enough to keep me warm.

He doesn’t protest, not that I expect him to, when I begin to unzip his pants next. I’m being needy and impatient, and I want him. Now.

His prominent erection springs free as I yank both his jeans and boxers down to knees, and I grin widely in my victory, grasping him firmly in my hand. He sucks his breath in sharply through his teeth as his jaw clenches shut, but I only smile more. I feel empowered by his response to my touch, and it spurs me on.

It’s difficult to move while trying to remain covered, but I manage to pump my hand up and down his cock, marveling at how beautiful he looks in the moment, his head thrown back and face scrunched in pleasure.

I am doing this to him, making him feel this way.

His hands have slid to the front of my shirt as I continue to touch him, large palms knead my breasts, and I moan, loudly. Perhaps it is knowing that tomorrow he is leaving for what will be the longest we’ve ever been apart, or maybe it’s that we’re secure in how much we love one another, but something is different this time – better.

Edward’s mouth finds mine, and he sucks on bottom lip into his mouth, biting down gently before releasing it. I can wait no longer, and I remove my hand so I can situate myself above him, watching as he pouts momentarily from the loss of contact.

He understands what I want, and slides one hand between us, the other gently on my hip, and together we finally connect, our cries of pleasure of having him inside me after a week long absence sound through the night. We don’t worry about being heard, it’s only us in this moment.

I know it won’t take much for either of us, the feeling is too intense, so I lift myself slowly before sliding back down, rotating my hips just so. Edward’s eyes are locked on mine, letting me see straight to his heart, reassuring me that despite what may or may not happen, he will always love me, always protect me.

“I love you,” he whispers breathlessly.

The emotions behind his actions and words only increase the pleasure, and I am right in my assumption that this will be over quickly; once more, twice more, and I am coming undone, clenching tightly around him as I plummet over the edge. One quickened, final thrust and he finds his release, lips capturing mine in an attempt to swallow each other’s moans.

As both our orgasms subside we are still wrapped tightly together, though now I can feel our bodies shivering slightly. I know the temperatures have dropped from when we first arrived, and our clothes and the heat of the truck is much needed.

“We should get home,” he murmurs sleepily, his fingers combing through my hair. The action is soothing, and I yawn.

“I know,” I whisper, because I don’t want the moment to be over yet. My eyes are moist with unshed tears, the gravity of the moment hitting me suddenly – tomorrow he’ll be gone, states away from where I am.

I look above us at the stars twinkling in the night time sky. “Can’t we stay like this forever?” I ask, my voice rough with emotion, and I snuggle deeper into the crook of his arm.

He’s silent for too long, and I glance at his face, struck by what I see there. His lip trembles ever so slightly, and I can tell he’s feeling everything just as much as I am. A soft chuckle escapes his lips, though I can hear that it’s forced, and he presses a small kiss atop my head. “I wish we could, baby, I wish we could.”

The moment is over then, and he fixes his pants before helping me with mine. The blanket is folded and returned to the underside of the passenger seat. I make a mental note to wash it.

“Are you coming to see me off tomorrow?” He asks once we’re in the car and on our way back to town. I can tell he’s cautious about asking, sounding almost scared that I’ll snap at the mention of his departure.

I look over at him, reaching out to intertwine my fingers with his and rest them on the seat between us. “I wouldn’t dream of missing it,” I answer honestly.

The conversation is over, and I turn my head to rest against the seat, looking out the window. I can feel my eyelids drifting shut, and I welcome to the peace, because who knows what tomorrow will bring.