Slowly Love--Chapter Eight

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LoveandLogic

Refugee
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BABY, WE'RE GOING TO NASHVILLE! 7/2/11 <3
Ok, so I think this chapter is ok for this site. If not, let me know.

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Slowly Love--Chapter Eight

For an hour or so, Jess, Alex and Brooke sat around the campfire, singing along to Edge’s guitar playing and Bono’s vocals while Adam and Larry chimed in every so often. Occasionally Alex caught herself sizing up the guitarist from time to time, admiring the way the licks of the flames caressed his ivory skin, illuminating like a dove flying amongst the company of the sun. The fire turned his hazel eyes golden and she got lost inside the orbs, falling deeper and deeper into a room of forbidden treasure. If only she could find one thing, just a single flaw in this man, she would be able to let go of this situation.

There was so much he didn’t know about her, so many secrets bottled up somewhere in an old mental, dusty shoebox stored away at the back of her mind. She could never even remember what love felt like anymore until Edge entered her life unexpected. It was almost certain that her past, her decisions, would only drive them apart--not bring them together. Even though he was only human and more than likely went through human situations, Alex couldn’t help but to think of the Edge as a spoiled rock star who found a sport out of swooning women. Isn’t that what rock stars did, after all? See how many women they could seduce in a lifetime and tally up the scores during retirement?

Smile. It was that smile that convinced her otherwise. Edge wasn’t your average man and defiantly not your average celebrity. If not for the three, gossipy biddies, Alexandra never would have even guessed that Edge was the guitarist for one of the biggest rock bands in the world. He didn’t have the posture of a rich snob or the arrogance of a man who signed autographs and posed in pictures with complete strangers who would eventually treasure that photo for a lifetime. He was simple, uncomplicated and uncommonly calm.

Still…was that enough to trust him?

As the night grew on, Bono and Jess eventually went home, followed behind Larry and Brooke. Adam, having fallen asleep on the ground, was awakened by a friendly Edge who helped the bassist to his feet, groggy and mumbling. Alex laughed and waved goodbye, thanking the group for a wonderful time. Although two hours had passed, the fire was blazing, white ashes being picked up and tousled throughout the soft breeze. Edge silently adored the way Alex’s hair matched the inferno, the tendrils waltzing in unison with the flames.

“Come,” He suggested. “Lay down with me.”

Alex took his hand as he lead her to his car. Basking side by side on the hood of Edge’s Mercedes, she moved in closer, allowing him to circle an arm about her shoulders, her palm sleeping on his chest, teasing his neckline with lazy fingers. When was the last time she was held by a man? It feels like decades. On an odd night often would she cuddle up with her pillows, pretending that they were someone she cared unconditionally for, someone she could protect and whisper sweet nothings to. Reality of it was--the pillows never embraced back. But Edge, yes, Edge held her, rubbed her back, kneading the tense muscles between her shoulder blades with those skilled fingers.

“Did you have fun tonight?” Edge asked in a near whisper, petting Alex’s hair as she nodded into his shoulder.

“I did. Thank you for inviting me. Actually, thank you for everything lately.”

“You know you don’t have to wait for me to invite you somewhere. You can come over when you please. It won’t bother me any. And if I’m not home just leave a note or something.”

The way he rambled on sometimes was adorable. They were teenagers all over again, falling in love for the first time, trying to simmer the butterflies in the depth of their stomach. Alex wanted nothing less than to tell him how she felt, how she could focus on nothing but the way he cradled his guitar, loving it, caressing it like he would a woman. That’s how she wanted to be held, tenderly, lovingly…passionately. She wanted to be that guitar, to feel his fingers slide along her skin like a beautiful, heart thumping song.

And she thought back to their recent closet session in the old hotel. Even now her tongue processed the after taste of his lips and sea-salt skin. She was so close, too close, to giving in. At that moment in time, she would have surrendered to him completely, all fears and doubts set aside and forgotten, like a pile of unpaid bills. Nothing mattered to her when in his presence. His aura reflected a sense of tranquility and peace, melted her frozen heart so that it could beat again only for him.

Noticing Alex’s distant gaze, he asked with wonderment. “What are you thinking about?”

Curling against the length of his curves, his body heat intoxicating and comfortable compared to the cool metal of the vehicle, Alexandra shut her eyes and sighed into the dip of his neck. “Just…stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“You mostly. And how scary it is that I’m allowing myself to get this close to someone again.”

“You’re scared of me?” He questioned, his stubble sharp across Alexandra’s forehead.

“Not you, no. I’m scared of the idea of falling in love. As I told you, I’ve been married before. My husband was very…very…he was not a nice man.”

“Did he…abuse you?”

A sudden torrent of tears escaped from behind Alexandra’s closed lids. Edge sat them upright and rubbed her head as Alex dug her face into his flat stomach, her own body shaking violently, her words muffled yet clear.

“I was so young! He wasn’t like that in the beginning! We loved each other! Damn it, Edge, there is so much about me that you don’t know! I don’t want to lose you! Not yet.”

“Shhh,” He coaxed. “I’m not going anywhere until you make me move, Alex.”

“God, why did you have to be so perfect? Why can’t you be a jerk like the rest of them? He ruined my life, Edge! He took away everything! I got addicted to heroin because of him, I am physically bruised because of him, I lost a child because of him! I just wanted to die, Edge! I just wanted to leave this place and the pain and the drugs.”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down, love, slow down. Sit up, breathe.” Edge begged while grabbing both her wrists and pulling her onto his lap, the crown of her head underneath his chin. “Breathe. Just calm down. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. It’s alright, it’s just me.”

Their bodies rocked to and fro in tune with Alexandra’s uncontrollable sobs soaking the cotton of Edge’s t-shirt to the flesh that buried beneath. He didn’t know what to say and if he did, he wouldn’t be sure on how to say it. Normally he could find a solution to any problem, analyzing over and over various formula’s until finding the correct one. But this….this was beyond him. In his opinion, the only solution left was not to tell her that everything would be alright or that she did nothing wrong. No, the solution was to hold her, cradle her like a newborn, kiss her brow and accept whatever it was she was willing to give.

And he was correct. Moments after the sobs subsided and her fists clinging to the fabric of his shirt loosened slightly. Backing away, Alexandra smiled thankfully as Edge cupped her face in both hands, dragging away stray strands of hair that stuck to her forehead. The single gesture sent a jolt of electric throughout her bones. Was this real? His touch was so delicate that she swore all of this was a dream.

“I’m sorry,” She apologized shamefully. “I don’t mean to put all my weight on you. You barely know me and here I am, crying like a crazy woman.”

“Don’t talk like that.” He cooed. “You’re not crazy. What you’ve been through is…awful. No one person should have to go through so much in one lifetime.”

Alexandra noticed, for perhaps the first time, just how thick his accent was. Perhaps it was the serious and concerned tone that it made it deeper than average, or could it possibly be that she was now open to the idea of loving somebody? He didn’t run. He was right here, face to face, breathing the same air.

This was now or never.

“It was my fault that we lost the child,” She said slowly. “As I said, I had a horrible heroin problem. After my brother passed away, there was nothing left of me. He died in a car accident, hit by a drunk driver. My brother was the most sober person you could meet and he got hit by a drunk driver,” Alex snorted a hollow laugh. “Life is so cruel. Anyways, I was left all alone at that point, with no one. I remember lying in bed at my grandparents house and being so angry with the world and the people in it. Mostly I was angry at God. He took them from me, He put them on this earth only to take them too soon and leave me to vend for myself.

“So, as the average story goes, I got caught up in the wrong crowd, dabbled in some drugs, never actually expecting to get hooked anything. I was looking for some comfort, something to take away the pain. My grandparents, bless their hearts, sent me to doctors. But none of them really helped. They just doped me up and sent me on my way home to deal with the misery in solitude.

“Then I met Evan and suddenly life was good again. Not wonderful or fulfilling, but good enough. We married after only four months of dating and he introduced me to heroin. One time and I was sucked in, Edge. It took only one needle, one shot to take all that pain, all that guilt, to a distant planet. Even to this day I miss that feeling, the feeling of peace and quiet, the feeling of…nothing. I felt nothing, numb.

“The drugs got worse and worse, the addiction sucking out all the good qualities that Evan and I had. If he didn’t get his fix, he became a monster. If I didn’t get my fix, I became a shell. And when he was a monster and I was a shell, things got out of hand. I can’t tell you when he first hit me, I’m sure it had something to do with not having the money to buy drugs. I can only remember the blow to the face and the bruise that surfaced after words. Of course he told me that he didn’t mean it, that he would never do it again, blah, blah, bullshit. And I fell for it! Can you believe that? I actually fell for it.”

Edge, who sat quietly and patiently, took both of his hands in Alex’s. “What else could you have done, Alex? Really? You were stuck. You weren’t foolish.”

“You’re right,” She nodded. “I wasn’t foolish--I was scared. Scared of being out on my own, scared of not having a house to shoot up in. I’m sure you’ve noticed that I only wear long sleeves.”

Edge lied. “No, I haven’t.”

“Liar,” She grinned. “Everyone notices when a girl is wearing a sweater in ninety degree weather while doing yard work. It’s not natural. I’m still bruised from my addiction, literally. At twenty-three, I was four months pregnant with Evan’s child and I stopped everything. I stopped the pills, the heroin, the drinking, smoking. The withdraws were…I can’t even begin to describe going through a withdraw. It’s as if you never lived, you never breathed. You’re just not you. There never was a you, never will be a you. You were only what the drugs molded you into.

“Evan, on the other hand, was getting worse than ever, with the drugs and with the abuse. Some nights I fell asleep where I was because he broke a rib or knocked me unconscious. I’d wake up, confused and in pain, unable to move in a puddle of my own blood.”

“Jesus,” Edge gasped. “And no one noticed this?”

“Of course people noticed. They just…didn’t really care. You have to remember, I hung around with a bunch of junkies who abused and took the abuse. I wasn’t the only one. Some of my friends have died from the abuse of their men. And that was the most haunting part of my life: would I be next? Shit, even to this day I wonder how I survived.”

She paused and stared into the hazel eyes before her, trying to read them to see if there was any disgust in those hypnotizing orbs. There wasn’t any. She could hunt down on trace of detestation or bad judgment. In the depths of her soul she could have sworn up and down that no one, not even God himself, could still look at her the same after hearing her tedious tale. Once again, Edge took her by disbelief, proving her wrong a million times over. If anything, his eyes revealed…was it love? It couldn’t be. It was too soon for such attachment. Or, perchance, was it admiration?

“How did you lose the child?” Edge dared to ask, praying that it wouldn’t be the incorrect question.

Again, she sighed. “Stress apparently. From the withdraws. I had only enough strength to save one of the two. I lost him--it was boy--at six months. Imagine carrying around a kicking, breathing, living human in your body for six months only to give birth to a…a…oh, God, I can’t even say it.”

“It’s ok, you don’t have to. Please don’t finish it. That’s horrible. I don’t know what I would do if I lose a child. It’s hard enough not being able to see my girls, much less losing them. Damn, love, I’m so sorry. I can‘t say that I understand what you went through because that would be a lie. But, do you remember that song you heard in the car when we went to the restaurant earlier this week?”

She looked up at him, “The song with the pretty guitar chimes in the beginning? Bad?”

Grinning, Edge said. “You remembered. Yes, Bad. Well, that song is about a friend of ours, Gareth Spaulding. On his twenty-first birthday, he and his friends got enough heroin to kill off themselves. Twenty-one and he died. You’re lucky to still be here. And then another song of ours, Running to Stand Still, personally one of my favorites, is about the Seven Towers in Dublin. Are you aware of the Seven Towers?”

She nodded. “Yes, I am. The flats that were meant to house those with lower incomes only they became the heroin capital of Dublin.”

“Ah, you’ve done your research. We wrote that song for the flats and about all the people who died from drug overdose during that time. We lost some friends due to heroin. And, though I can’t relate to you, I can relate to the pain of losing friends because of something as heroin.”

Blinking away unwanted tears, Alexandra’s heart melted. Edge did care for her. Calm down, she told herself, calm down and open up, he’s not going anywhere, just as he promised. Don’t push yourself away just because you’re scared of rejection.

“Will you play it for me?” She asked him softly, meeting his thoughtful stare.

“Running?” He responded and she nodded. “Yeah, of course I will. I always enjoy playing it. One second, let me get me gee-tar.”

Alexandra giggled, the pain slowly subsiding, Edge’s humor and light spirit making her feel…well, normal, for once. Prancing to the back seat of his car, Edge came back moments later with his beautiful Gibson acoustic, sat on the hood, Indian style, across from a straightened Alex who was more than anxious to hear Edge sing. Any opportunity to hear him sing was a pleasing one. She was almost addicted to his voice, that thick accent so different from the bland tone of American’s. She found nothing sexy about the way American’s spoke.

“Ok,” Edge proclaimed, twisting the knobs of the guitar while plucking the strings, staring down the instrument. “Let’s find the right tuning here. Oh, nope. Ah…ah…shit, no. Son of a bitch! Spare me, here.”

Laughing loudly, Alexandra assured, “No worries. You’re fine. I’ll wait.”

“I got it! Alright then, Bono sings this better than me so, once again, spare me.”

“I highly doubt that he sings it better.”

Edge flashed a smile. “How do you know if you’ve never heard him?”

“I heard him singing earlier. And, yes, he has a beautiful voice. But there’s something…I don’t know, just something about your voice. Bono has a rock star voice, you have a lullaby voice.”

“Thank you, Alex.” Edge responded, a light pink flush forming on his face. “Ok, ready?” Playing the opening, Edge moved to the rhythm of the song and, shutting his eyes, sang confidently. “And so she woke up, woke up from where she was, lying still. Said I have to do something about where I’m going.”

Alex became lost in the song, in the melodic echo of Edge’s singing, watching his lips in slow-mo as he sang, appearing to be just as focused into the lyrics and guitar as much as Alex, if not more so. Tears leaked over the brim of her eyes, seeing her own life in the stanza’s that made up Running to Stand Still, as if her and Edge had met in a past life and he came back to Earth just to write this song in dedication to her.

“She walks through the streets, with her eyes painted red, under a black belly of cloud in the rain. In through the doorway she brings me white gold and pearls, stolen from the sea. She is raging, she is raging and a storm blows up in her eyes. She will suffer the needle chill. She’s running to stand…still.”

Dumbstruck and speechless, Alexandra could do nothing more than gawk at the musician. Understanding her expression and setting his guitar to the side, Edge scooted closer and, in a flash, was holding her for the hundredth time, squeezing her tightly to his chest, joining her in the silence that surrounded them.

It wasn’t a good silence, nor was it an awkward silence. What could she say? Her whole life she had been just that: a girl under a black belly, running, running, running. Running to find the drug, running to shoot it up, to feel it burn within her veins. Running with the high and, at the end of it all, running towards something, running towards nothing, coming down from the stoned sensation to come back to reality to…stand still.

“Thank you,” Finally she mumbled into Edge’s ear, kissing him on the cheek in gratitude. “Thank you for sharing that with me. Thank you for not leaving me.”

“You’re welcome.”

As time went on, the crispier the air became, a thick fog escaping their mouths like a thin layer of smoke. Edge had lost track of the hour, time being an irrelevant factor during these last few days. Part of him never wanted to sleep again, it would only mean losing precious minutes in the encirclement of the woman breathing quietly, the heat of her face like summer against his cold skin.

Alexandra shivered. “It’s getting a bit chilly.”

“Yes, it is. We can go inside the car and I can turn the heat on.”

“Don’t be silly. I don’t want your battery to die.”

“But,” He blinked through feathery lashes. “I don’t want this night to end.”

Alexandra smiled. “Neither do I. Let’s just go back to your place.”

Edge agreed and they gathered their belongings. It was then, behind the wheel, that Edge came to the realization at how tired he was getting. It was almost four a.m., the streets bare and the houses dark, asleep. Alexandra was nestled in the passengers seat, her legs curled up beneath her and head rested on Edge’s shoulder. The sight made him smile and he planted a kiss on the top her head, Alex responding with a physical shudder.

When they got to his house, they walked hand in hand to the back patio. Edge put on a pot of tea and, with two mugs in one hand and a blanket under his arms, joined Alexandra on the plush couch. Taking the mug, she thanked him, sipping on the hot liquid as it flowed down her throat and into her belly. Due to the tea and the blanket and Edge’s natural body heat, Alexandra was comfortable and warm, nuzzled against the guitarist.

Setting their cups on the end table, Edge and Alex moved around, helping one another to find a cozy and roomy position. Eventually Edge ended up behind her with their bodies stretched across the couch, securing Alex’s small shoulders. She pressed the side of her face into the folds of his arms, dizzy from the feel of his stomach on her back. No, she decided, this wouldn’t work, she needed to see him.

Shifting until they were nose to nose, the corners of Edge’s mouth up-hilled, mesmerized by the mere sight of the lime green eyes sizing him as though she was looking at him for the very first time. In some odd way, it did feel like the first time. Before it was simply physical attraction and inquisitiveness that bound the two together. Now, however, with part of her past in the open, it was now their souls that melded.

And while Edge analyzed, Alexandra put Edge’s qualities to memory, tracing over the sharp corners of his jaw line and down to his angled chin, his facial hair coarse amongst her sensitive fingertips. Ever so lightly they grazed on top of his cheekbones and underneath his eyes before sliding along the length of his straight nose. Resting on his lips, Alex exhaled, forgetting how to breathe for a split second. She never tired of taking in his beauty. Edge was almost unreal, his features so striking that she had to study him again and again and again just to make sure he wasn’t an object that she drawn up with her imagination.

“Has anyone ever told you how…amazingly gorgeous you are?” Whispered Alexandra.

He smirked. “Now I have.”

“Edge?”

“Yes?”

“Kiss me. Please.”

Obliging, Edge combed his fingers through Alexandra’s hair, bracing the side of her neck and bridged the gap between them. Alex moved in closer still, blindly resting one hand on his shoulder, the other tugging on the collar of his shirt, pulling him into her. Edge pushed past the barrier of their mouths, snaking his tongue past a straight row of teeth to drown in the taste that awaited him. Moaning deeply, Alexandra replied with enthusiasm, forcing his shoulder, draping a leg over his hips to bring them to her own.

With her tongue she discovered the smoothness of his teeth and the skin on the roof of his mouth. She was getting drunk off the mixture of unique flavors that made up Edge. Even now, kissing him for the umpteenth time, she still could not describe his sample. It was too precious, too desirable for words.

He was too desirable for words…

And she couldn’t depart from his lips. She was fixed. Lips moved, tongues tasted and teeth bit, nibbled. She suckled on his bottom lip and tongue, incapable of getting her fix. He was her own personal brand of heroin. A heroin that couldn’t harm her. He was a drug that had no side effects. He was, however, a drug that buzzed her mind, confused her thoughts and she was damn sure that the withdraws would be severe beyond anything else she had endured. To be away from him, never to see him, feel him, taste him, would be weakening…life threatening.

Ravishing Alexandra’s mouth with his, Edge couldn’t prevent his swarming thoughts of the news he had just received. It was no wonder Alexandra moved so far from home, to a community where no one would be informed of her past, where she could be freed of her deadly habits and the posse that provided those habits.

Her past was almost fictional: an orphan, a lost brother, an abusive husband, birth to a stillborn and now a heroin addiction. It was almost too overwhelming for Edge to handle. Truth is, although Edge was known for solving problems, Alexandra’s life was a formula with no solution. Although she hadn’t meant to, she put Edge on a pedestal. He’s always been a terrific husband, the cause of his divorce had nothing to do with his inabilities of being a loving husband. And he was a even better father, friend, lover. Would she ever see that? Was she willing to see it? The thought was frightening--the thought of not having the capability to be good enough. When he raised his hands to caress her, would she flinch in return to avoid a possible strike to the face? When he made love to her would she wonder why? Simply said, he wasn’t here to use her or hurt her. If anything Edge wanted to soothe her to normality, to help her adjust and open her eyes to a new and superior life.

“Alex,” He muttered into her mouth. “Never be frightened of me, love. Promise me that.”

Fluttering her eyes towards the man in her arms, Alexandra wasn’t certain on a response. Not be frightened of him? She barely knew him. She didn’t need to a word, Edge could read it on her face, how her eyebrows crossed and lips gnawed nervously. She couldn’t promise because it would be a lie if she did. Could he hold that against her? They just met. No doubt it would take time, perhaps a long time, to prove that he would never touch her out of anger, only out of desire. Never would he leave her abandoned on the floor, he would always pick her up to lay her on a bed of silk sheets and feathered pillows.

“I can only promise that I can try,” She answered finally.

Edge rested his forehead to hers. “That’s good for now. We’ll take it slow, love.”

Alexandra then kissed Edge one last time before moving down his body to rest on his stomach, vanishing into the soft rise and fall of his steady breathing. Edge stroked the length of her hair, hypnotized by the sight of her closed eyes, her hand sneaking it’s way under his shirt to paint lazy circles over his abdomen and around his naval. One arm hugged Edge’s thigh tightly as she thought about what he said. She wanted to trust him and have him love her. And though she had opened up and he showed no restraint, her past experiences hovered like a dark, grey cloud on a sunny, summer Dublin day.

Despite all the complications and doubts, Alexandra was sure of one thing: she needed Edge. She needed him like she needed air, like she needed the sun. The urge to look upon him, to touch him like she was now was too strong to let go of.

She needed him more than she ever needed a drug.


 
I'm so sorry I didn't get back to you in time, I've been so busy :)angry:) but you're right, it's fine.

:sigh: So sad. But her story is one of redemption...which is wonderful. I'll say it again, you're very talented.

But...I disagree with this one thing Alex said...

“I highly doubt that he sings it better.”

AH, no :wink: :lol:
 
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