I had no chance to prepare, I couldn't see you coming.

Frank Ocean

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The bar he sat at was awfully noisy. Or perhaps it was always like this. In the three years he's lived here, he had failed to step inside an alcoholic establishment even once. For some strange reason tonight, he felt a pull deep in himself to walk pass the doors with red printed text.

Edward was quietly sipping on his drink, when a large group of individuals speaking in accented English passed behind his seat. It was most likely a group of college students studying abroad for the summer, he thought. Living down the block of the student hostel he knew that every summer, the streets of Nice were overtaken by students bustling in excitement, conversing in their various foreign tongues.

Edward remembers a time in life when he himself was consumed with new beginnings. He also remembers the fallout, and shakes his head before finishing his drink. He calls the bartender back over for a refill in French, his tongue and mouth no longer struggling itself to wrap around the language- often even forgoing English for days. He prefers to believe he blends in quite well with the locals nowadays, although he finds a small part of him yearning for the warmth and familiarity of the States when he can't control it. It's useless to even think about. Does anyone even miss him? Edward shifts in his seat. Well, because I do miss them, he admits mentally.

A loud chuckle to his left pulls him out of his thoughts. His eyes widen slightly as he turns. There stood a girl hanging over the top of the bar, speaking in rapid French to the bartender. Turning back to her friend, she resumed their conversation in English. Standing there dressed in white, with luscious brunette waves and a wide smile, he couldn't take his eyes off her. Edward attempts to turn his focus back towards the bar and his drink, but he couldn't help taking one more glance at this girl.

She faces the bar to pick up two glasses before turning around and handing one to her friend who twirls and walks toward the larger group sitting in the corner. Taking the seat next to Edward, she thanks the barman in French, though this time he can hear the slight hint of an American accent. Noticing Edward's attention glued to her, she smiles before turning back and sipping her white wine with a faint twinkle in her eyes.

A look like that and he couldn't resist.

"I'm Edward," he introduces himself, holding a hand out to her.

She glances down and flashes that perfect smile once again. "I'm Bella," she replies, meeting her small hand in his.

Throughout the conversation that ensued, Edward couldn't believe it. Something about this girl made him feel like he was worth even looking at. He didn't say much. Personally he enjoyed just listening to her ramble about her hometown in Washington, her classes for the summer, the time she almost got arrested for a DUI because she couldn't walk in a straight line, but she swears she's just clumsy, and how her father is a police chief and how much she misses him despite their quiet relationship.

When she asked him what he did for a living, he briefly answered how he was a photographer and private piano tutor before bringing her back as the center of attention. He even ordered another drink for her just so he could continue hearing her voice.

At some point in the night, they had both turned to face each other and had slowly inched closer and closer. Edward bet he looked like an idiot sitting across from her, all starry eyed and silent, but he didn't care anymore. As long as she kept looking in his eyes and smiling and flailing her hands wildly as she spoke to get her point across, he didn't mind what others might've thought. He didn't even care about what he might be thinking if it was anyone but him in this position.

When the clock struck midnight, and her fellow schoolmates got up from their seats to call her over, Bella looked back and yelled at them to wait for her outside. She got off the seat and paused momentarily. Opening up her purse, she pulled out a black pen and snatched his napkin. Quickly writing her number on the cloth, she bit her lip before throwing her arms around his neck.

Edward was frozen for maybe two seconds until he wrapped his arms around her waist.

Bell pulled away just enough so he could no longer feel her warm breath on his throat, but so that she was still in between his thighs.

"Call me. Don't be a stranger," she said as she slowly withdrew from his arms and walked towards the side door. She met up with her friends right outside, and two other girls turned around to peek at him. Edward felt his cheeks start to burn. Bella soon left shortly after, but not before throwing one last impish grin at him once more through the glass.

For the first time in a long time, Edward didn't feel alone. Not even in a crowded bar still full of customers as he sat by himself or the street as he walked home in the dimly lit moonlight.

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The summer's almost over and I've been inspired! Things are changing in my life and soon I'll be dealing with some very adult things, but this will be my place to put a creative spin on Twilight. All mistakes are my own and I don't own any of these characters.