I've dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas: they've gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the color of my mind.

(Page 78, Wuthering Heights, Emily Bronte)

1. Early Sunsets

Edward Anthony Mason Cullen

I glanced over my ambivalent eyes without much thought slipping through my mind, clutching the steering wheel with vigorous hands. I combed through the curtain of fringe that had fallen over my forehead with my fingers into some semblance of order it couldn't seem to achieve. The sky was the usual tenebrous, overcast mass of clouds. Light showers of rain parted the pallid concrete where sheaths of mushroom-shaped trees were spilled haphazardly along. I fingered the smooth velvet that was the mask as I peeled along the tar, beaded with the rain, where few other Toyotas with faded exteriors shared. I watched as few women power-walked their poodles along the pavement notwithstanding the climate, barely keeping my eyes on the meager traffic ahead. I swallowed hard the non-existent lump that had formed in my throat. I was mad.

I was capable of asylum-legible activities but this would have made any being an imbecile psycho. Carlisle knew I was going but vexingly he didn't stop me. I wished I could wrench out the seemingly perpetual reassurance in his beautiful visage but having cogitate such thoughts of my father, my creator, was lucidly ridiculous and I had no other worthy description for it. I could always turn back and continue that halted game of chess with Alice but I knew that it would have been inevitably regrettable afterward. And Alice would have won like the many times she did in my attempt to play peevish tricks in her mind. Thinking of that, would she already know that I was going to be in the Black's mansion in a couple of immeasurable seconds? Perhaps not. I shook my head vehemently, clasping my palm over my forehead. I seriously needed therapy to keep control of my evidently wavering sanity. My fingers glided along the satiny vinyl of the passenger side seat, occupying myself with an unnecessary ponder of the options which were splayed before me. There were unsurprisingly limited and I abominated every one of them. Except the degree of enmity varied for the last, most horrifying option. If I had a heart, it would have beaten in my throat as I got nearer toward the unmistakable outline of the handsome manor house which grew out of the darkness at the end of the straight drive. I sped toward the wrought-iron gates, ajar and achingly inviting. I donned the mask over my face, partially concealing the object that wouldn't have spared me from getting ripped into shreds and burnt into the crackling fire of the mantelpiece.

I parked the Aston in front of the building where people from the reservation were beginning to pour into with their mingling groups. I stepped out of the confines of the Aston, gravel crackling beneath my burnished shoes. A masquerade out of all other themes, I almost threw my head back in laughter as I walked up the steps of the deep, commodious porch. Billy Black must have been abandoned from all the party preparations. I knew fully that this was a joke amongst the dogs but I couldn't be bothered. All I coveted now was the presence of my Rose. The sound of my footsteps was muffled by the yew hedges as I sped toward the entrance. The double doors were ajar, leading to an impressive hallway where rock music pounded its floor which was of smooth, white stone. Again, one of their facetious jokes. Lights from the old, cobwebbed chandelier that hung over the crowd glinted on the diamond-paned windows, further illumination came from the orangey flames beneath the handsome hearth. I squeezed myself into the suffocating crowd, nodding at several females that were, I conjectured, from Forks High. The hallway led to an impressive parlor where huddled groups of obstreperous teenagers swayed their hips slightly to the music. The frame of wood of the vast oak table which served as a mediocre refreshment booth were laden with pewter dishes filled with oatcakes and some other finger foods. I skimmed through the crowd, hunting for the coveted one in vain. I contained myself from the laughter that threatened to burst as I strode past the guys who donned extremely tight leggings and puffy trousers. Why humiliate yourself when you could simply wear a suit and be done? I mused, shaking my head.

"Good evening, sir. I guess you are looking for your beautiful maiden here,"a girl spoke in an outrageously enthused tone, swaying her thin hips at me.

"Yes and that wouldn't be you, I'm sorry, Madame," I said in acrid response and sauntered past her, my personal search for Rosalie never pausing.

I couldn't risk being seen here-well I was breaking all the rules now so why bother? I rocked on my heels, standing ramrod against the smooth, creamy wall as I watch every person flash by. Rose, Rose, Rosalie…why was she? She was killing me as every nanosecond ticked. I continued into the drawing room that had been made into a vast bar. That was where all the kids were trooped, swigging goblets of beer underneath their nostrils. I was amazed that Billy had let them drink. She still wasn't present there. So much for wishing to get a glimpse of her. Bathroom. The ideal sanctuary for a disdainful night. I was so familiar with the house despite it being a rival's. It could have been my grandmother's. I mounted up the thickly carpeted steps and reached the upper landing where existed a long stretch of four rooms, in no more than second. I surveyed the dimly-lit hallway and was captured by the large glass tank that dominated the centre of the area. The waters were a blinding cerulean with jamborees of small fishes inhabiting it. I walked up to it, stooping low to examine the varicolored scales of the fishes. I followed them, my head swerving to the furthest corner then back to the centre. Pools of lucid molten, rimmed in a peculiar chocolate brown immediately caught my attention. I stared at them, then my eyes inched to the left. They followed their movements rapid and sinuous. I copied with similar celerity. It couldn't have been eyes. Eyes would have belonged to a human-well not necessarily but animals feared beings such as me and they would have ran earlier on upon my scent-but I couldn't hear his or her thoughts. Just the cacophony of the uncontorllable bedlam from downstairs. And I couldn't hear any heart beating, no pulse or the whiffs of human blood. Queer.

I rose, straightening my posture slowly. They followed. The figure was sheltered from the light but I could trace her eyes, her small prominent nose and her lips. She shifted and now I could view her distinct face and countenance. Such inhuman beauty gazed up at me, the face of such comely that my thoughts of Rosalie were annihilated. The most exquisite face I had ever had the chance of beholding, soft chocolate brown hair, the similar shade that tainted around her golden eyes, hung loose around her delicate neck. She was in a soft, white satin dress that cascaded down her feet, covered in silver ballerina pumps. I closed my gaping mouth as I smelt her scent-intoxicating to the unfathomable extreme, much more than a human's blood. I couldn't hear her thoughts as much as I attempted. I couldn't hear her heartbeat as well. My brow curved upward in confusion. A vampire? In the Blacks property? What did happen to that treaty?

"Hi?" Her canorous voice intercepted my thoughts.

I breathed in a mouthful of air. "Hello."

"I'm Bella, Bella Swan," she muttered politely as she seemed to shift uncomfortably in her dress that accentuated her slenderness, and her breasts. I tried to keep my evil eyes away from them.

I nodded thoughtfully, gripping the hem of my trousers tightly. I couldn't possibly inform her of my identity but it suddenly seemed safe to me. I took the risk. "Edward."

She was breathtaking at every aspect I could speak of. Her smooth, alabaster skin, so similar to mine though it seemed a few degrees paler, almost translucent. The skin that stretched over her knuckles whitened as she seemed to bob slightly on her heels in a sort of child-like excitement, her eyes travelling intently on my face. Her smooth marble forehead corrugated as her examination lastesd on my suit. Perhaps I had looked strangled to her as I attempted onerously to conjure as much coherent words as possible in my mind.

Then the dog ejaculated from the room behind her. She spun, raising a palm at me to wait. I wished I could have sprinted away from there, away from the house but I thought better of it. It would seem to strange. "Hey, Bella! You've abandoned us! Where are the drinks?"

"Wait up, Jake. Give me a sec," she replied, turning back to me with a grin. That brain-melting grin. I cleared my throat, composing myself.

"Nice to meet you, Bella," I said gruffly and got ready to speed off from there before getting recognized by the beast who seemed to be having fun in that room, whatever they were doing.

"Hey, Edward, don't you want to come in? Maybe have a drink and a quick chat with my friends?" she offered, indicating the room with a finger, looking up at me expectantly. I hate to turn down the pleasurable offer but I was smarter than that. This was a much higher risk than getting into the house. And I had questions for Carlisle. I needed to get home and rethink my life. But I also wanted to see her again, know where she lived. I gritted my teeth, closing my eyes.

"Um, no, I have some other matters. Goodbye," I said hurriedly and ran off.

I rubbed my temples vehemently with my fingers as I paced down the steps, stopping myself from glancing back over my shoulder. I didn't want to go home just yet; I wanted to see her again. Meet her everyday as well. I was greedy, a glutton for affection that I couldn't have. I stopped at the edge of the sitting room, holding myself up with the arm of a tatty armchair. I would offer myself to the Volturi to rip me into pieces and burn the remnants into the fire anytime. I sank onto the obscure cushion, digging my fingers into my scalp, going deeper and deeper without drawing a drop of blood. Sometimes I just wished I had died from the Spanish Influenza than getting rescued by Carlisle. I shouldn't complain that I was given a chance for another life but I would have traded this for death. I live a life of a monster and it was instinctive to kill for me to live. How morbid could that be? And monsters weren't supposed to love. It wasn't at all in their vocabulary. I bit my lip, watching the radiance from the magnificent fire. I wanted to hurl myself there and forget everything of life. Of my feelings and the hormones that didn't exist.

I stood fluidly from my seat and stepped over the threadbare carpets toward the refreshment booth where most of the food were left untouched. My nostrils flared as I caught the unmistakable whiffs of wet-dog smell hovering on the towering copper plates and held my breath. Really, why did I even thought of coming when I wasn't even here for Rosalie anymore? I didn't spot her any where in this humilating crowd and ended up in degrading desolation. Then meeting the most beautiful visage and forgetting completely of the gloating image that had swam in my thoughts for the last couple of months. Emmet would have a good laugh if I told him any of this nonsense. The long, bonny blonde hair of Rosalie, I noticed was blown slightly by the air. I watched her, trying to relieve the feelings I had had for her. How could I have all those affection I had for within a short, immeasurable moment? I buried my face in my hands, piercing my fingers into my rock-hard cheeks.

Edward Anthony Mason Cullen was a psycho.

Isabella Marie Swan

He was beautiful. Just like my creator. I had never seen such god-like beauty before except for those two occasions I would never forget. One had pain involved, the burning, deathly pain that coursed through my body, every part of it. My toes, my ears, my squirming torso, my lips: the fiery rage went on for a month that I couldn't lift a finger, couldn't speak a syllable, couldn't see what was occurring before me. Then the other was plainly sweet. His eyes, molten like mine, were hypnotic. No, that was such an understatement. There wasn't an adjective capacious for his beauty. His lips, full and pink, were dominant, his bronze hair messy and thick. His waist was slender, the planes of his cheekbones prominent. There was no heartbeat, no pulse. He was evidently not human but I couldn't be certain. What was another vampire doing here in Jacob's place? He could have easily not been a vegetarian and the humans would be in a deleterious position. But his eyes were gold, honey gold and soft with gentleness. I knew he wasn't dangerous.

I couldn't ask Jacob of him-he would immediately pounce on all fours and think the worst. I grabbed the beers from the bar and clambered up the stairs, looking for Edward. I couldn't spot him, nor smell his delicious honey-lilac scent that would have made my mouth water if I was the kind of vampire who hunted on their own kind. I went back up and plopped on the love seat, handing out the beers. Jacob wasn't supposed to have alcoholic beverages in this party of his as Billy had said but as mutinous as he was, he got a whole year's supply. They were watching the game on the ancient television and I had only agreed to join to get away from the mingled chatter and laughter of the humans. Here, there was a strange mix of beings. Three werewolves and a vampire. Hilarious. Sam had backed away from the invites because he had heard I was coming too. He still didn't ascertain with the others that I was as safe as a normal human being could be. I didn't bother. I didn't live to make people approve of me. I didn't even asked to live. My creator had saved me from my imminent demise-falling off a cliff, can you imagine?- and I was thankful. But I still didn't know him-after a year I was changed.

I felt like yanking the dress of my body but that would be awkward with all the teenaged guys surrounding me. I felt uneasy with the fragile fabric cladding my body-Charlie had presented it to me and I didn't have the slightest idea that he had as much fashion sense as Versace- and I was forced to wear it to not appear rude. The guys were all in their old sweats, hair matted over their scalp. I was envious of them. Jacob had only organized this party for the 'fun' of it. I couldn't fathom his reasons but whatever it was, they were simply wicked. He did all of these to drive Billy away from home for two days, he forced his poor father to resort to Sue Clearwater's house for the night while he had his party. That it would have been too embarrassing if he was there. I pitied the old man severely.

"Bells, you alright?" Jake asked worriedly.

"Yeah I am fine if you're thinking that I'm going to kill all your neglected visitors and drink their blood," I joked lamely, smiling widely.

"Hah, funny, Bella."

"Could we watch something decently interesting than this game, guys?" I said, not wishing to claim defeat that soon as I attempted to snatch the remote from Embry's large hands.

"No, Bella. This is the game of the year, man. We can't possibly miss it for some lame chick flick. Wait, if there's that Lohan babe, I wanna watch it," Embry said, shielding me from the remote. I took an aim on his nose, tightening my fist with my reflexes as I hit the prominent bridge with as much force as I could conjure. He yelped, hopping away from me toward the firmly-closed sash windows.

"Hoh! She broke my nose. You broke my nose!"

"Yeah and you guys will all have broken noses if you don't change the channel!" I screamed but the other tw didn't seem to hear my threat and Embry had begun to join them back, his nose healing with only blobs of crimson clinging to the collar of his ragged shirt.

Quil whined, perhaps their team hadn't scored. I didn't know the ethics of baseball. As I guess I wasn't an All-American girl. I sighed, pushing away the strands of hair that had strayed away from my loose bun. Jacob really was a good friend but he was, without a doubt, a party pooper. I folded my arms across my chest, whimpering as they roared suddenly. What did they earn from watching these pointless matches anyway? They were a bore, bore , bore. I stood from seat and tapped Jacob's arm lightly.

"Hey, I'm just going to head downstairs and see how's the party going. There could have been a fire going on there and you wouldn't know," I said and fluidly got out of the room through the door that was partially ajar.

I descended down the steps, craning my neck to look over the crowd for any signs of Edward in any one of the groups. He wasn't in any one of them. I half-ran down and played with the curls of my hair, twisting a strand in a finger as I smiled at several people who looked like they were going to talk to me. I escaped before they had any chance of stirring a conversation. I still wasn't familiar with all these people-I had just arrived at Forks barely a day. I walked through the back door of the silent kitchen and entered the garden, gnarled with tufts of untamed, knee-high grass and the old fountain playing. I perched myself over the mossy stone of the fountain, swinging my legs as I tried to blank out my mind. I shut my heavy lids, thinking of Renee, my old home that was Arizona and how I would miss the heat terribly. Everything was so dank and dour here, the color resembling nothing more than mud and rain.

"Bella?"

That familiar voice, like the ringing bells through a cathedral. My head immediatly shot up from my cupped hands and stared at the desirable beauty. I attempted a smile as he sat beside me, smoothing out the fabric of his trousers around his thighs. His hair was glorious. He didn't wore his blazer on anymore, his crisp white shirt rolled to the crease of his elbows. I gazed at the incandascent contours of his arms, wishing I could glide my fingers through the seemingly soft parchment. I held my hands back firmly.

"Great night huh?"he commenced in a dreamy tone,"I would have traded anytime of the day for this."

I nodded silently. He looked at me from the corners of his molten eyes. "You look...bored."

"I am. This party was meant to be a joke. It's my friend's."

He cleared his throat, jaw taut. "You're new here? In Forks?"

He looked like he already knew but simply made the statement sound like a question. "Yup."

"So enjoying the weather here?" he asked nonchalantly, his fingers dancing across his knee.

"Are you asking me about the weather?" I questioned him with mingled curiosity and amazement in my tone. Though it didn't come out too blatantly.

"Yes, I think I did," he said slowly, his eyes moving rapidly in their sockets.

I shuddered, scratching the side of my jaw with a finger for something to do. "I don't really like the cold, the wet and the green. It's er...just not me."

"Then why did you move in the rainiest place in the continental U.S?" he asked, genuine wonder crossing his face. I felt my face freeze suddenly as I sat ramrod very much like a mannequin I was. I loosened up, shaking my head.

"It's complicated," I muttered, looking down at my fingers.

He nodded thoughtfully, sweeping back his hair with a grin. "I am a busybody, I know. Um, do you want to...dance?" he asked with a sheepish smile.

"I...I'm not really a dancer," I said, shaking my head as he stood before me, slighlty kneeling.

"Aw, come on. Just one dance."

I looked at his mask, the rich purple of the velvet that partially concealed his inhumanly beautiful face. It would have been better to have it wrenched off him, so that I would be able to have a better view of the being before me who was exhorting me to dance with me. I couldn't expostulate further, melted by his lucid golden eyes. I stood and placed my palm gently onto his. His was smooth as satin, and warm, warmer even slightly than Jacob's. His arm snaked around my waist softly as he moved his limbs sinuosly like a male ballerina around the stone floor, twirling me every few seconds. The proximity held me breathless for moments as he pirrouted me and I let my body flow to his movements. It seemed like I had known him for so long, there was an inexplicable familiarity clinging to every inch of him, an aura of certainess that bonded us together. Surely love couldn't be that rapid but I knew his presence was significant and somehow impotently magical. I leaned my head against the vast, hard cushion of his chest and I felt him flinch a tad but didn't proceed as he stood still, his fingers twirling the ends of the locks of my hair. It was, as though time had stopped and we were left on our own in an existing dream. It didn't have to last just yet as the moment was immeasurable. I feared to say it too soon, not wanting it to be disrupted by the prosaicness. But I did. I couldn't deny it. I was irrevocably in love.

But I didn't know if it was with him...or his beauty.