Summary – Edward is sulking on a street on a rainy day in Rio when an angel comes to him. Set during New Moon.

A/N – I'm not entirely sure where this came from, but I liked the idea, so I decided to write it down. The first chapter might seem a little dragging, but I think that you'll enjoy the next chapter, when I get the chance to post it. I'm grounded right now, so it might be a few days. Oh, and if you like this and the TV show CSI:NY, then check out my other story. You might enjoy it. So, here it is. Enjoy! (Disclaimer on profile.)

I sat, almost unmoving, against a building on the nearly vacant streets of Rio de Janeiro. Dark clouds were covering the sky and it had started raining. It reminded me of her, the angel who's name I could not think without sending the harsh pain throughout my chest, making my dead heart throb. I'd heard the expression "a broken heart" before, but didn't understand until I left the love my life – no, my existence – back in that rainy, inconsequential little town that would always be my true home. I had lied to her that day that I left, and I saw in her eyes that she believed what I was saying. My heart hadn't quit hurting since then.

I sighed pitifully.

My Bella.

I loved her, and I missed her so much that it hurt. Maybe I could visit her, just pop in to see how she was doing? That wouldn't be so horrible of me, would it? If it was only to see that she was happy…

No, I told myself. If I went back to Forks, I wouldn't be able to leave again. I loved my angel too much to damn her that way I was. She was beautiful, pure, warm, and loving; everything that I was not, that I could never be.

The rain started picking up more. She would hate this weather, if she were here. I remembered how much she disliked the light drizzled and constant clouds of Washington State. This downpour would probably be even worse than that for her. Though, I recalled, she seemed to have started enjoying the rain more and more the longer she stayed in Forks. Maybe she wouldn't mind the storm that was hitting this area. I never could know exactly what she was thinking…

The pain was throbbing through my chest again. I wished that I could simply not think about her, but at the same time, she was everything to me. She made the first hundred-and-eight years of my life seem pointless. Utterly pointless.

Searching desperately for an escape, I listened outward with my mind, hoping to catch some of the pointless Portuguese chatter of the local people.

"Leave me alone, Carlos! I don't want to hear your voice right now!" a girl of about nineteen or twenty yelled in Portuguese to a boy of the same age a few buildings away from where I sat. She was angry with him over something that I couldn't quite get from her hysterical mind.

"Ana! I didn't do it! I swear! I only love you!" the boy, Carlos, yelled back. In his mind, I could see that he was lying. The girl had found out that he was cheating on her and he was trying to convince her that it wasn't true.

Quickly, I searched for another mind, one that wasn't concerned with love. There was a young boy that wanted his mother to raise his allowance, a teenage girl that was yelling at her parents through her bedroom door because they had grounded her for missing curfew again, a mother and father trying to console their sick child, and a girl of about twelve sitting on her bed, hugging her pillow, wishing that her mother, whom had just died, was with her.

Only the last was one I could relate to. That young girl and I were in a similar position. We had both lost someone that we loved dearly. The only difference was that the girl – Gabby, I realized as I saw the hand-painted sign hanging on her wall – could never see her mother again. Her mother was dead, gone forever, and would never return to embrace her daughter. My Bella was not dead. I had left her, but I had done so to keep her from death. The girl had more reason to grieve, and I did not. I had chosen to leave, so I shouldn't walk around like someone had died.

But it felt like someone had died. It felt like I had died. I had died physically in 1918, but I had died mentally a few months ago, when I left my angel, my Bella.

I pulled myself away from the mourning girl. Her pain was having the opposite affect that I had hoped. Instead of distracting me from the heartbreak, it was making it painfully obvious.

If I could cry, I would have been.

I heard footsteps walking down the street. I wondered apathetically who would be outside in when it was raining like it was, but I quickly ignored it.

The footsteps stopped suddenly in front of me. I didn't look up, thinking that whoever it was, they were only stopping to stare at the strange person sitting outside in the rain when everyone else was inside with their families.

I expected the person to leave after a few seconds, and was surprised when they didn't. I considered looking up, but decided not to.

Then I realized that I couldn't hear the thoughts of the person standing just a few feet away. I stiffened, not believing that my angel was here.

There was a light laugh and a girl's voice said, "What are you doing out here in the rain, Edward?"

My head shot up quickly, and I was starring at an angel, a gorgeous brunette with chocolate brown eyes.

"Bella?" I gasped.