Hey everybody! I just want you to know that I had an insperation and wrote this. Please read.

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I stared down at the ivory keys in front of me. White, black, white, black, white, black, white, white… I knew them so well that my fingers moved silently on their own accord once I decided to begin playing. First though, I did what I always did before every performance.

Every time I sat down to play it was impossible to forget why I had pursued this career. I was now a concert pianist, one of the best. They keys called to me because he played them.

I couldn't stand music when he first left, it actually took a year before I would play or listen to any. Once I did start listening though, I found it helped me remember him. It hurt to remember him, but I was even more frightened of forgetting the one thing that still really and truly mattered to me in life, even if I didn't matter to him anymore.

So every single time I sat down at one of those benches, I thought of him. I thought of him lying beside me, strong, steal-like arms encasing me in a protective cage while he hummed the unknown, then later and now my favorite, tune in my ear. His soft, crisp breath gently caressing my skin as the notes rose and fell, just like my breath as I was shipped off to sleep. I remember sliding in on the dark bench beside him, the first time I was at his house. The annoyed expression he threw my way before beginning to play. He played his mother's favorite first, and then moved to the lullaby, my lullaby. "You inspired this one." he had whispered as the notes I had heard him hum finally were put into place.

These were the moments I remembered before every single one of my concerts. The people loved to hear me play, but I knew the one person I was playing for would probably never hear it. Even so, I had spent this whole time composing my own song… and it was being introduced tonight.

I was watching as my angel stepped up onto stage, as she sat down with a grace that I was sure would never happen. I was so worried every time I came to her concerts, and I came to all of them, that my muscles tensed in preparation to spring up there and catch her. So far, I hadn't had to do that. I just had to remind myself that for her to see me again now would kill her. Still, I was prepared to help in case she needed it. She didn't though; she sat down just like always and closed her eyes.

She also did this every time. It was frustrating and I was just as impatient as before, if not more so. Times before, I could ask her. Breath the question in her ear, hear her heart beat faster because I was so close to her, and see the blood pool on her cheeks… no I couldn't ask though, so I would never ever know. I would never know anything more than her website told me, any more than the minds of her parents and friends would tell me, but I still knew quite a bit from that.

I knew that she had never dated anyone since I left. I didn't know why, because she never told anyone, and her website would never say anything as personal as that. I knew that she never told anyone about the exact moment I left, never told why I'd left. That part confused me; I would have expected that she would have told by now. But then again, she never did what I expected.

After a moment, her deep, warm brown eyes opened and she lifted her pale, beautiful fingers the ivory keys.

A beautiful melody filled the air. Sweet and sad, obviously inspired off of some major passion. I immediately filled with jealousy at whoever this composition was written for. She loved them a lot from the expression on her face, which was a soft adoration I had seen on her a million times. After a moment I realized it was a lullaby, and I wondered if she still remembered the lullaby I had written for her.

If I ever got on the piano and played, which was only when I was alone enough that none of my siblings nor Carlisle or Esme could hear, I played that song. I allowed the depression to fill me, but remembered the moments that had brought me to the happiest times of my life. Surely she didn't remember the song that well, after all I had just had about a years worth of her time.

As the song drifted to a close, I clapped along with everyone else, waiting for the next piece to start, but remembering that one for eternity. She stood though, walking up to a microphone on the side of the stage.

"Hello." Her beautiful voice rang out, and I was filled to the brim with so many emotions at hearing it again. "I want to introduce the piece I just played. It is one of my own compositions. I have been working on it since I started playing the piano, needing to get the notes just right. It is a lullaby as you might have noticed." She gave a feeble laugh. "It was written for someone I love very much."

I braced myself for whatever name came out of her lips. Whatever name it was I could handle it. I knew she would fall for somebody else when I left, that was part of the deal. I had prepared for this, but now that the moment was here, I wasn't ready.

"His name is Edward. Edward Anthony Mason Cullen." I felt the shock register on my face, not even bothering to try and mask it. "I fell in love with him when I was seventeen. About one year later, he left me because he no longer felt the same way. Now I know you are probably saying 'why does she still love some boy who left her?' And I don't really have a good answer. I just do. I love him so much that I began to play the piano about a year after he left, because he played it. Anyway, I wrote that lullaby for Edward, in response to the lullaby he wrote for me." I could see the tears making shimmering trails down her checks and as she said all this, and was aware that any moment I might start sobbing my tearless sobs too. But I couldn't leave; I was riveted to the spot. "So the piece is called Edward's Lullaby."

"So the piece is called Edward's Lullaby." I finished up. I had finally said something, after ten years, I had finally said something. The only thing that would make it better, was if he were here to hear it.

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Bella'sLullaby1901