Sprawled across the soft sheets, Roman eyes the red bruises that were littered across Bella's collar bone. Her touch feathers over them, touching lightly at the possessive marks that she had left there clear for anyone to see, and sighs happily.

She was so beautiful like this, with the sun glowing over her bare skin, casting shapes through the mosquito netting.

So tired, still, the girl was having less and less energy the longer that they stayed on the island. Frankly, it was beginning to make her think that the place had some sort of weird magic that messed with their chakras or something because she was bouncing off the walls day and night, and Bella was becoming more and more tired that they often took refuge inside much sooner.

And it wasn't like she was able to just sneak away to look around because there was no way to completely distract Edward long enough for her to sneak away. At least it gave her plenty of time to draw out a cage sketch and outline of the island with his help.

She wasn't much of an artist, but she would admit that her ink drawings could be very pretty when she was having a lucky day.

Bella jolts, flinging herself up in the bed, with the blankets tossing around her as she pants and searches the room. 

"What is it? What's wrong?" she asks, reaching a hand out to settle her. "Bella?"

"Nothing, it's nothing," she says, shaking her head as she lays back down.

Roman moves into her side, cuddling into her middle. "Was it another nightmare?"

"It's fine, my love, it's nothing."

"Was it the Volturi, again?"

She sighs, nodding as Roman draws lazy circles against her shoulder. "It always is."

Humming, she traces her hand down to Bella's stomach, grinning at the way her breath flutters with her touch. "Do you want to talk about it?"

There's no answer from her and she can't help but worry a little bit more at that. She was naturally introspective, sure, but she was always willing to talk after enough prodding. Bella was a terrible loser and hated keeping secrets unless it was really important.

"Do you want me to distract you?" She asks instead, playing with the band of her lacy panties.

"As enticing as that offer is, I'm kinda really hungry. What time is it?"

"Some time in the early afternoon. We can go get some lunch if you want?" Roman offers, pulling back so that she could look at her. "I can make you something."

"Roman, love, I love you, but you aren't the best cook."

"What? I'm great!"

"You're great in the way a bachelor being able to survive on his own cooking is," she says, giggling softly when Roman squawks in faux outrage. "I'm surprised you didn't starve before I met you."

"That is so rude. My feelings are shattered," she says, rolling from the bed with a pout. "You can make your own lunch."

Laughing, Bella slowly climbs off the bed. "You won't help me with a salad? You love salad."

"I suppose I can help with a salad..."

"Great. I'm starving," Bella said, taking Roman's hand as she made a beeline to the kitchen. "Did Edward go hunting?"

"He left a note. He wanted to be back before we woke up, but I guess he was running a little late. I'm sure he'll be back soon."

"It's fine," Bella says, smiling at her over her shoulder. "It hasn't been just the two of us in a while."

Thinking back to it, Roman agrees, pulling vegetables from the fridge. "I think the last time was the night before the wedding if we aren't counting all of our little shower trips."

"I don't think the shower trips count when we're never truly alone when Edward's around."

"Then consider this our first moment alone as wife and wide," Roman chirps happily, leisurely going through the motions of making a salad while Bella fried chicken wings.

It was a nice moment, incredibly domestic, blissfully so.

The solid and chop against the cutting board filled the silence with a comforting homey sound while the scent began to make her stomach growl, a pang of ravenous hunger that she hadn't noticed before bringing her to watch Bella in jealousy as she picked the hot meat straight from the pan.

She settled for biting down on a baby carrot as she waited.

But then she stilled where she was placing the chicken on the plate, the pan tumbling to the floor with a loud clang as her hand clamped over her mouth and she rocketed to the bathroom.

Roman chased after her, catching herself against the doorframe as Bella crouched on the floor heaving into the toilet.

"What's wrong? What is it?" she asks worriedly, shifting on her feet.

Bella groaned. "It's okay. It's the chicken. Food poisoning."

Her lips pinch as she thought back to how good the chicken had smelt, how fresh it had looked, and how cooked it had been when Bella ate it. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine as soon as I brush my teeth."

Nodding, Roman grabs what she needs and hands it to her, kissing the top of her sweaty forehead before moving back. "I'm going to clean up. The salad will be in the fridge when you're ready to eat."

Bella was sprawled across the couch when she found her after cleaning, the window all open to let in a warm breeze.

She whined as the cushions dipped before crawling to rest her head in Roman's lap.

"You smell like chicken oil," she complains.

"Sorry." Roman doesn't mention that she had tasted the meat, had eaten all that was left, before doing the dishes. She felt fine, the chicken tasted fine. "Do you want me to go shower?"

"No, you smell good."

She chuckles. "Thanks."

It was how Edward found them when he got back, locked together watching some horrifying films with plenty of gun shots and flashy explosions that made her head pound terribly against her skull.

He sat by Bella's feet, pulling them into his lap as he regarded the pair.

She wasn't sure how she looked exactly, but it must have been something along the lines to how her wife appeared with flushed skin and a thin sheen of sweet that coated most of them. It was humid on Isle Esme, disgustingly hot, and it was only much more clear without Edward there to cool them whenever needed.

Perhaps a cold bath would be in order wince the sea wasn't that much of a help considering how warm it was.

"I'll arrange for an air conditioner to be installed before the next time I leave," he says, a teasing lily to his words.

"I didn't realize how hot it could get without you," Bella mumbles, breath puffing against Roman's thighs.

Gracefully, he places himself against the couch, holding Bella close in the hope of cooling her down.

Just as suddenly as before, Bella's darting from the room clutching at her stomach, Edward following close behind.

Lips pressed in a thin line, Roman lays the back of her hand against her forehead and sighs. She waits for nausea to hit her, for a cramp to pierce through her as it did for Bella, but nothing came and, other than the splitting headache, she was more than fine. 

Which made no sense unless something else was making Bella sick, which would stand to reason that she would also get sick since they've been together for two weeks without fail. 

They returned together, Bella pouting as she drops herself Roman's lap and she's quick to brush back her hair, massaging her temples as she wished someone would do for her because her headache wasn't getting any better.

Edward's hands replaced hers as he put then against her forehead. "How do you feel now?" 

"Pretty normal. A little hungry, actually," Bella says, shrugging the best that she could. 

He put on CNN—we'd been so out of touch, world war three could have broken out andwe wouldn't have known— as he made her wait an hour while keeping down a glass of water before he agreed to fry her an egg. 

Breakfast for dinner, it seemed, was not a good idea for Roman as the moment the egg began to sizzle in the pan, she recoiled, flinching away from the counter where they were both perched to watch him cook with a hand plugging her nose. 

"Roman?" he asks worriedly, abandoning the pan at the stove. "What's wrong?" 

She swallowed thickly. "I'm sorry. The scent is just turning my stomach." 

"Food poisoning?" he asks, glancing back to Bella as she soundlessly took over.

"No! No, I just think I just need something light to eat tonight. There's a salad in the fridge that I can have."

He doesn't seem convinced, but agrees anyway, bringing her the large bowl, a smaller one, and the bottle of French dressing. She wrinkles her nose. 

"Can I have Ranch, actually? And some bacon?" 

Bella frowns. "You hate Ranch. And bacon." 

"I don't hate it, per se," she says, pouring far too much dressing and then dipping the bacon in it. "And bacon is great when it's crispy like this." 

"But you hate how greasy it is. The smell of grease always makes you sick," Bella argues pointedly. "You made me open all the windows in the coldest months of winter when I was frying steaks just so the scent of grease wouldn't stay." 

"I was just doing you a favour," she defends lightly, licking the Ranch off her fork before gently dipping it in the dressing in her bowl. 

Her wife sighs and shakes her head in disbelief before scarfing down her food. 

When they were back on the couch again, watching the news, again, Bella was off like a shot. She didn't make it to the bathroom this time and she bent over the kitchen sink as she retched.  

Sitting on her knees, she watched from the couch, as Edward held back her hair. 

"Maybe we should go see a doctor in Rio," Edward says, rubbing circles between her shoulder blades. 

Bella shook her head and pulled away, walking in the direction of the bathroom. "I'll be fine once I rinse my mouth." 

The moment she was out of sight Roman rounded on Edward, scrambling as she rushed off the couch. 

"I don't think it's food poisoning," she mutters as she wraps her arms around him. "I ate the same chicken and feel absolutely fine." 

He frowns, a hand coming to touch her temple. Her breath comes out in a hiss at the slight relief it grants her. "You don't seem fine. Your thoughts are all fuzzy for me." 

"Oh, well, it's just a sun headache. I've been trying to hide them from you." 

"How often have you had them?" 

Her brow furrows. "Pretty often. It's not that bad if I'm honest. It could be a lot worse."

"You're in pain. Have you taken anything for it?" 

"I've been taking the Tylenol that Alice packed. I only really have them in the morning or before bed." 

He doesn't seem pleased by her response but doesn't mention it more. It must be odd for him to be faced with such human issues when he hadn't needed to deal with anything of the sort so intimately in a century. 

"Roman! Roman!" 

The scream cuts through her, blinding her for a moment. She trips as she runs to the bedroom, Edward catching her as she nearly crashes into the door. 

"Bella? What is it?" she asks, trying the handle and gently pushing open the door. She pokes her head in, taking in her position on the floor bent over her suitcase holding a small blue box. "Is-- are those...?"

She trails off, counting backward in her head as Bella nods jerkily. 

It wasn't possible, was it? There was no way that it was possible. It had only been two weeks, there would be no time for symptoms to appear, for her body to register the change. 

Edward pushed the door open, moving past her where she stays frozen in the doorway counting. 

"Are you trying to pass off your sickness as PMS?" 

Roman releases a chocked, hysterical laugh. 

"No, no, Edward, I'm late. My period is late." 

His facial expression didn't change. It was like she hadn't spoken. 

"I don't think I have food poisoning," she added.

Her knees go weak and she sinks to the floor, clinging to the wall for support. 

This was insane. It wasn't possible. 

"The dreams. The crying," she says in a flat voice, staring blandly at the box. "Sleeping so much. All that food. Oh. Oh. Oh." 

Edward still hasn't moved, his eyes glassy. She worries for a moment that something might be wrong with him, but that was impossible, right? All of this was impossible. 

But a lot of this was impossible, wasn't it. She was married to a vampire on an island that belonged to her mother-in-law with an unbreakable bond with a boy that turned into a wolf. There were likely hundreds of things that no one would ever be able to understand about vampire biology, and really, they had only claimed that it was impossible for their bodies to change... 

It wasn't as though Carlisle knew everything there was to know about vampires no matter how long he had been one. 

Bella lurched to her feet, darting to the mirror. She lifts the silky camisole that she wore, hand smoothing over her stomach. 

And there, impossibly, was a small bump that sat between her hips. 

"No way," Roman whispers, rocking to her feet. She reaches for her, gently pressing her hands against the small bulge. "There's no way."

"Roman. Roman, listen," Bella says, grabbing her hands. "How late are you?"

"What?" 

"We've basically synched. How late are you?" 

"That's..." she swallows thickly, "It doesn't have to work like that, Bell. I feel absolutely fine and I have  no bump like you." 

"Roman--"

"No, we worry about you first," she snaps, eyes flicking down to her stomach. 

"Lift your dress." 

"What?" 

Bella tugged at her thin nightgown. "Lift it, Roman. I need to see." 

"There's nothing there! Bella, there's nothing there!" She cries, crushing her wife to her. "It's fine though, everything is fine. I think you're just panicking a little. You need to relax. I don't think it's a good idea to stress right now." 

She shakes in her arms. "You're right, of course, I'm sorry." 

Ring! Ring! Ring! 

Yanking herself away, Bella dives for Edward's phone in his pocket, answering it after a moment. 

Roman doesn't listen as she talks to Alice, ignoring the conversation the best she could while she tried to wake Edward from his frozen state -- not willing to admit how she was slowly falling apart at the change. He was supposed to always be fine. he was untouchable, immortal, and he wasn't supposed to go into, into shock! 

Seeing his so still, so motionless like a true statue, it made her gut wrench painfully at the terrifying thought that he might not move again. 

Edward's head snapped up at something that Bella said and he brushes past her to reach for the phone. 

She barely manages to catch her wife's frantic, "I don't know how to tell for sure because Roman isn't showing any signs," Bella finishes just as the phone is ripped from her hand, it doesn't stop her from continuing on, raising her voice as she tries to get them to here. "She claims there's nothing but she's had just as many possibilities and we share the exact same cycle. Our last period finished only a day apart." 

"Stop! Bella, please stop!" Roman calls, rushing to place her hand over her mouth. "I need you to worry about yourself, alright, because it still sounds to me like you're panicking." 

"But we need to know, Roman," she argues. 

"We'll know if I start showing symptoms. Until then, let's not worry about anything that we don't have to worry about yet." 

Edward started moving around the room in a flash. 

Her headache reminded her of it's existence then in full force and she squeezed her eyes shut tight, tears wetting her lashes as her fists shook at her side. 

"What are you doing?" Bella asks.

"Packing." 

"Why?"

"We have to get you to Carlisle," he says, voice hard, empty. "Both of you." 

She nods. "That makes sense, yeah. We had to go home at some point." 

Edward curses, looking in the direction of the kitchen. He takes the luggage with him, and when did he pack all that? 

"Stay here. I'll be right back." 

Bella doesn't wait long after he leaves to grab his found, scrolling through his contacts.

"What are you doing?" 

She pauses in her searching. "You weren't paying attention?" 

Roman bites her lip. "I guess not. My head hurts."

"Okay, you sit down in relax. I think it's your turn to panic now." 

She complies, falling back to the bed and covering her eyes with her hands. She wasn't sure what was wrong with her, but she felt like she might possibly be falling apart a little. 

"Rosalie?" Bella whispered. "It's Bella. Please. You have to help me."

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Opa! congrats on the babe Bella! 

and thank you all so much for 70k !! it means a lot to me that you like Roman enough to stick around 

unedited 

2020-03-29