The Confession Chapter One

"I'm sorry this is creeping you out. I don't mean to. And...I just feel so protective of you. I can't explain it" he said slowly. His head was actually spinning, he was overwhelmed with all the feelings he had for her. That was sincerely hard for him since he had so much more space in his vampire mind then his human one had. But he was feeling an intense feeling that made him want to go over to her and hold her to him tightly. That must be the feeling of "love" his sister was always telling him that boys felt for her. She had yet to feel such a thing, but she never had described it as such an...astounding feeling. The passion that he had seen people driven to do things that were considered insane, but were for the good, that was the kind of passion he had for her. Looking at her made his eyes soften and he had to get a grip on himself to pay attention to watch her. It took 30 seconds, long enough for him, but he got a hold on reality with a lingering buzz still in place. He looked for her reaction. He had never stopped monitoring and controlling his emotions that would show on his face and in his eyes. What had she seen?

Beatriz pressed her hands to her ears. "Get out," she whispered, her voice filled with fear. "GET OUT!" she screamed, throwing a pair of shoes at him. Her hands were shaking. She brought them to her face. She had seen the expressions as they ran over his face. She had seen things like love, hopefulness, a pleading...Beatriz couldn't bear to see that. She knew what he didn't. Bea wasn't capable of love. She didn't know how to trust people with her emotions, her heart. She didn't know how to talk to people. She couldn't do anything with those emotions. She didn't know how to handle them.
So Beatriz simply pushed Caspian away.

He easily, without thinking, used his hands to flick the shoes away softly. They thudded quiet hard against the opposite wall. "Please Beatriz, just...I...I don't know! I need to figure this out!" he pleaded with her, his whole being wanting to be near her and get on his hands and knees.

"Get the heck out of my house," Beatriz whispered, her head in her hands. She didn't want to collapse anymore. She didn't want to be that old Beatriz, the one who needed to tap doorways three times before she entered them, who had to wash her hands exactly four times before leaving the bathroom, and had to step into her room three times before going to sleep. She didn't have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder anymore. She wasn't messed up. She was a normal, average teenage girl. She obeyed her parents and went to school. Beatriz did not have strange boys in her room or freak out. She refused to become the old her again.

He couldn't turn back. Not now. "I can't. Not until I know...I want...have...need to be with you" he said, feeling like he's malfunctioning. He used all his might to stay in that spot because he wanted to hold her.

"Go away," Beatriz said weakly. She wasn't sure if she could take any more of this. It was just...too much.

"No" he said quietly, walking way too fast towards her. He swept her up in his arms, the riskiest thing he could have ever done but his human emotions overpowered his common sense. "Please let me..."

Beatriz pounded on his chest with her fists. She felt like she couldn't breathe. Her throat was clamming up. It felt like it was on fire. Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears. The emotions...they were just too much for her. She couldn't deal with them! They were the reason she was such a good student. You didn't need emotions to do math. These emotions of hers...they were why she was a good writer. By writing stories that screamed out her deepest desires, she never had to deal with them. Beatriz had become the Beatriz she was today by constantly suppressing her emotions. If she gave into them, like after her mom left...she didn't know what would happen. Would the world end? Would she perish forever?
Or would something good happen?

He looked at her, his face automatically drawn to hers. Her throat was closing a little he could hear but it wasn't dangerous. Besides, Carlisle had taught him CPR and all that jazz. But he couldn't think of that then. Her smell was so intoxicating he felt like he was on drugs or something. Like her scent was so delectable smelling that it should be a crime. He saw her hitting him but couldn't really feel it that much. He was going to tell her to somehow stop doingthis to him when he opened his mouth. His throat was not only on fire but he wanted her to be closer and let his nose skim her neck as he took in a large whiff of her.

Beatriz tried to wriggle out of his iron grip. It was impossible. He wouldn't let go. She couldn't take it anymore! She pounded against him, but he still refused to move. She yelled out in frustration.
Then a thought came to her: how would this look to people? She knew exactly how it would look. Bea couldn't help but laugh. Then, her laughing funny, and she laughed some more. Finally, her laughing began to sound like hysterics and she started to sob. "Let me go!" she cried hoarsely.

When he heard her ask to let her go became back to reality because before, he was in his own little world, just high as a bird. He knew he was pushing both of their lucks but he could handle it surprisingly. He gently set her on the bed. "I'm so sorry...I don't know what came over me" he apologized, backing up slowly, even for a human pace. He forgot the number one thing abot love his sister had told him: the person you love comes first, not the other way around. He
might as well have just killed her then because he had made her cry, he could see that now. That's not what he wanted AT ALL.

Beatriz sat on her bed, her head cradled in her arms. "Get out of my house," she whispered, half of her words drowned out by her sobs. "Just get out of here!" Her hands tightly clutched the bedspread. This time, if Caspian wouldn't leave, she'd call the police. They'd know what to do.

He jumped out the window but had to stay. His eyes felt dry. It was like the time where he thought his sister had died. He realized that it was what it was like to cry in that body. He stayed because after she fell asleep he would have to...oh he knew now. Put her back in the closet and put everything back where it was. Then she'd think it was all a horrible dream.

Beatriz sat, slumped on the bed, until she was certain he was gone. Then, she stumbled out of her room. She shut all of the windows and locked every door. She checked every tiny crack and crevice to make sure even someone like Caspian would have no way to get in. Beatriz's hand shook as she did this. She angrily swiped away tears. She couldn't believe that had happened. She had hated that feeling of helplessness-being unable to stop Caspian from holding her, no matter how many times she pounded on him repeatedly. He could have done anything.
But he hadn't.
Why?
She shook this thought away as she staggered out of Rosita's room. She glanced at the clock. It was three o'clock. Rosita would be coming home soon. Beatriz would have to pull herself together somehow. Yes, she would. After all, their father had just left. Rosy didn't need to deal with this.

He sat there and listened to her shut all the windows and door, locking them. He'd cleaned her chimney the other day (creeper) and he could get in that way. He would wait patiently and try to get a hold of himself