The Other Twin

35

Rory's POV -
We leave the hospital, with Dad's permission. He tells me we don't need it, but I wanted to anyway. I didn't want him to get worried about me. Just about the only reason we left was because I could see Edward was struggling with the blood smell. He was making a thing of not showing it. But he was uncomfortable. And I don't like him uncomfortable. We go to his house. It's nearly empty, other than Esme who's in the basement. Alice and Jasper are in Port Angeles shopping, Klaus and Rosalie are swimming to Canada and back. Em and Russ are climbing a cliff and Addy is... somewhere. And of course Carlisle is saving my sister for who knows what reason. Probably because of the law and hippocratic oath. And ethics. But other than that.

He takes me upstairs. Not in a dirty way. But in a normal way. There's a collection of graduation hats in a frame on the staircase.
"Really?" I ask.
"Emmet, Klaus and Addy's doing. Not quite sure how it stuck."
"It's interesting. And certainly unique. How many are yours?"
"Around a sixth."
"Interesting. Mathematicaly a bit odd. But interesting."
"Different time."
"I know."
"Come."
We get to a corridor of doors. Eight doors, one painted black with paint splatters and the rest varnished wood. We go into the third one, which I assume is his room. There's no bed, which I guess is obvious bearing in mind he doesn't sleep but it hadn't occurred to me, but there is a few shelves of books of varying ages and multiple rows of CDs.
"How many do you have?" I ask him.
"Alot. 143 I believe. They're organised in order of release. And my favourite ones are on the top."
"Debussy is in the top 10?"
"Top 5 actually."
"Seriously?"
"Music of my childhood."
"Why is Queen on the same level as Debussy?"
"I like Queen. And I like Debussy."
"My CD collection is Musical Theatre, Queen, a little rock and mostly pop. Definitely not classical."
"Don't diss classical!"
"I mean... I don't hate it?"
"I have some Musical Theatre in here. '
"Which?"
"Umm, Phantom of the Opera, Caberet, Chicago, Hamilton is currently in Addy's player and Wicked's in here somewhere. There's some other stuff too, I believe." I find the 70s and Chicago. I find his CD player and replace the 100 Best Classics CD with it and flick to Cell Block Tango. The music starts and my terrible dancing starts with it. When the main bit of singing starts, I sing along. I don't have a bad voice, so it doesn't sound horrific. I'm a little pitchy though. Edward doesn't seem to mind. He smiles and joins in the dancing a little. He joins in singing after the third verse. But he sounds really good. Our duet ends with the song and I flop onto his chair, mildly breathless. He gracefully drops down next to me.
"You have a nice voice," he tells me.
"You have a really nice voice. I'm average."
"Why can't you just take a compliment?"
"Probably because I don't deserve them."
"You deserve all of them and more, love."
"You're just saying that because you have to."
"I'm not. I'm really not. And I just wish I could get you to see that." He puts a hand on my chin to turn my head to him, before he kisses my lips. I smile into the kiss. We break apart.

"Let me show how to dance for real."
"What?"
"Come on. Get up. Let's waltz."
"Waltz?" I laugh.
"Yeah. I learnt it at a young age. Practically part of me. Now I'm going to teach you."
"Knock yourself out. But I'm warning you, I failed two ballet exams by a lot by the age of seven. Even Isabella passed. And she can barely put one foot in front of the other without falling. I can run, but have very little sense of rhythm and counting and general dancey dancing stuff. "
"Well, let me just try. Hold my shoulder."
"Oh. So your leading."
"Yes. I'm older. And I learned the leading part. It's very hard to unlearn muscle memory. Very, incredibly hard."
"Alright then, old guy. Let's attempt this thing."
"You know the phrase 'right foot forward'."
"Yeah?"
"Well. Right foot forward. Put your left foot back and follow my lead. Just remember the number 3."
"Yes. Waltzes are in 3. I know that. I do play music."
"I know. I've never had to teach someone before."
"No. You're good. Keep going."
"Okay. Go left backward, right backward, left to the side."
"Like a knight. But with one less step."
"You play chess?"
"Don't sound so surprised."
"You don't strike me as a chess player."
"I'm not. I was taught the basics by Amy."
"Who is...? "
"Oh, I haven't mentioned her to you yet. She was my best friend since we were about six and I moved to Arizona. She's gone now. In a better place."
"I'm sorry."
"It's fine. It was about a year ago. It prompted my move, actually. And she was in pain. A lot of pain. It ended her suffering."
"You want to talk about it?"
"Let's keep dancing."
"If that's what you want."
"It is."
"Then try the steps." I do two steps back and a step to the left.
"See. You're a natural. Now do the same going forward on your right foot." I complete the action.
"Now try with music. I apologize, but this isn't in 3/3. Can I put on something else?"
"Sure."
He picks up an unmarked CD and replaces the Chicago one with it. Beautiful piano music starts playing.
"Care for a dance?"
"Why not, Mr Cullen."
We pick up the hold and do the pattern on a few times, before I come closer to him and we sway in a teen movie slow dance way.
"I don't recognise this piece," I tell him.
"That's because I wrote it."
"You wrote it!"
"I have a lot of free time."
"You spend most if it stalkerishly looking through my window and watching me sleep." He laughs a little.
"It started out as one time. But then I had to stay to stop you getting hurt."
"And you did. Ish."
"I wrote this for you, you know."
"Me?"
"Yes, you."
"Why would you write for me?"
"Because you're my soulmate. My love. My Rory."
"You are disgustingly cute. And sweet."
"I have beeb told."
"Well you're my Edward."
"I know."