Blood Moon [a Twilight Saga FanFiction]

Touched

I WAS WASHING MY HAIR FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MANY SEASONS, wearing nothing but a drying cloth, looking out the window to the trees surrounding our cottage, when Igor came in.
     "Igor!" I gasped, covering myself up quickly, my face flushing with needless embarrassment.
     "You are my wife," he chuckled softly and closed the door behind him. His face... his expression was... different. "And need I remind you, again, that I have seen you without clothing before."
     Right... of course... my dream... his memories... It didn't make it any easier.
     He placed the covering over the lavatory and sat, watching me as I returned to washing my hair.
     "You could have at least knocked."
     He smirked and then distracted me again when he took off his shirt. It wasn't fair for someone to be so... so... well perfect in every way shape and form.
     "May I help?" he asked, his chest glittering in the morning sun.
     "I... I will not refuse."
     Igor sat behind me and began massaging the soap into my hair, he moved closer so his legs were on either side of me. His cold skin against mine was very chilling, but also, as always, warming as my blood rushed to warm me up.
     Igor helped me wash out the soap, then wash my back. It felt... well, it made me feel beautiful.
     The electrifying cold heat pushed all through me as he rinsed the soap away. Then I felt his lips against my bare shoulder, sending that familiar static of passion straight through me. I held my breath as he softly caressed my shoulder and neck with his lips My neck to my ear, which he softly bit.
     I turned to ask him what was wrong, what was bringing on this behaviour, but as I turned, he very quickly held his perfect lips to mine. His hands, one wrapped around to the back of my head, the other on my neck. Lustful passion exploded in me with the touch like a fire. My hands went around Igor's neck, one gripping his face, holding him there as I never wanted him to leave, the other tangling itself in his hair.
     I expected him to pull away, I was completely bare as the drying cloth was all but forgotten about on the floor, but he did the opposite, he pulled me closer, his hand moving from my neck to my back, holding my body tightly to his.
     Then I was flying, my hands never leaving him, nor our lips ever separating, I was flying at unimaginable speeds. Igor was running. The only time we separated was when Igor tossed me onto our bed, I sat up and looked at him standing in the doorway.
     I hardly had time to blink before he was back on top of me again, fitting himself gently between my legs, his lips firmly on mine as he held my body up to his.

~~~~~

Igor didn't move nor did he speak, while I attempted to catch my breath after the deed was done.
     My stomach rumbled and I chuckled at it, he swiftly stood and without a word, dressed and left to make me some food. I had hoped. His silence crushed my chest with an unfamiliar pain.
     I watched the door long after he left, only for my eye to start wandering, and make their way to the bed... completely demolished. How had I not noticed the wood breaking around me? The panels being turned to mere splinters?
     I chuckled and as my legs still weren't back in full function, I reached over and began to clean up.
     Once I was able to stand again, it made cleaning up easier. Until there was a loud crash at the door, I turned and saw Igor standing, staring. Something in his expression made me sure he didn't drop the plates over the state of the bed.
     "Igor? What's the matter?" I asked.
     Then he was gone. He wasn't even in the room, I grabbed the thin silk covering and began searching for him.
     I hadn't found him anywhere in the cottage, so knowing he could have been in the ocean by then, I returned to the bedroom to clean up. Hoping, praying he would return.
      I tried not to let it make me cry as I cleaned. I bent down to pick up half a pillow when a huge pain shot up my side, causing me to loudly gasp and grip my ribs.
     Suddenly, he was there again, looking at me as if he was expecting me to break.
     "Lay back down," he ordered. "I will clean this up."
     "On what?" I asked with a chuckle. "You destroyed the bed."
     He didn't react the same as I had.
     So, I just retreated to the seating room where I rested, then investigated what that pain had been caused by. Once I was able to look at myself properly, I saw the faint discolouration forming on my skin. Huge bruises forming on parts of my body, my waist, ribs, shoulders... upon further investigation, I even found some forming on my legs and from what I could see of my behind. My lower lip was even slightly swelled. But all things in consideration, I felt physically fine, great even. I wasn't in any pain.
    I looked up and saw Igor staring at me investigating myself from the foyer.
     "Instead of looking at me like fine China, you could come here," I stated.
     "I will not touch you again."
     "Than please get me some ice."
     His brows pulled together as he slowly began walking forward.
     "Where are you hurt?" he asked, sounding strained.
     "Here," I said pointing to my chest. I then found another bruise forming over one of my breasts. "Igor, you are pulling away from me mere moments after the most perfect time of my life! That is not good for a woman's heart!"
     "I hurt you-"
     "I am perfectly fine!" I yelled. "Look at me, yes I have some bruising but they do not hurt! I am in no pain, Igor," I sighed softly and took his hands softly in mine, but he wouldn't let me move them. "We knew it would be difficult and there would be challenges, so please don't do this to yourself. Stop treating yourself like this, because I am fine. You have not hurt me, you did the opposite. I wanted you to hold me tighter and these tell me you did. Of course, I am only human and do not remember what it used to be like for us... but..." I kept looking at him, though my cheeks burnt with satisfaction and embarrassment. "That felt close to perfection. I understand if it wasn't like that for you. I'm not an immortal after all-"
     He chuckle broke me off. He even smirked slightly, my favourite smirk.
     "You are so human," he said. "Worrying about how I feel?"
     "Of course."
     "Don't," he said softly and put a hand softly over my cheek, his thumb brushing my swollen lip. "I remember witnessing the best nights of my existence. All, by the way, were within the first decade of loving you."
     "Oh, really?" I asked.
     "If you thought that was perfection, you're in for a treat."
     "I'm not sure how anything could get better than that, but I will trust your judgement."
     I knew he was acting. I knew he was faking his comfort and hiding his self-hatred and self-torture for me, I knew he was still suffering, and probably would for a very long time.
     He left me to recook food for me while I made myself more presentable. I knew he was suffering for the bruising he had caused, so I dressed to hide as many as I could.
     Tried as he might, Igor couldn't fully hide his hatred for himself, he didn't look at me for the rest of the day, even while he took me out through London, only touching me with his fingertips until he had to carry me back to the cottage.
     As he left to hunt that night, for the first time since our reuniting, leaving me to cook for myself, I realised that many seasons will pass before he touched me again.