There was just something that had always been unsettling about this time of day.
Perhaps it had been because, technically, the first brush of the sun's rays should have reduced him to ashes?
Perhaps it was because instead of the feeling of a new beginning, all Edward got was the reminder of what had been lost? Days melted into one another anymore, there just wasn't any sense of purpose. There wasn't the awe inspiring sense of just being alive.
For all intents and purposes, sunrise had lost its magic. And yet...
For being a creature of the night, here he felt much more at home. Edward Cullen had always liked the delicate tendrils of heat that wound their way into his frigid skin. There was just something in watching the flowers raise their delicate heads in the direction of the sun, which was just now yawning into awakening.
If he closed his eyes and focused his mind hard enough, yet with the most delicate of tenderness, he was able to prod it into the state of not being. Sometimes it was easy, all he had to do was get lost in the sensation of the grass against his skin. Others, it felt like he was getting weighed down by the stress of the world.
A soft crackling grounded him again, and his eyes snapped open. Standing in the same meadow, occupying the same space, was the beautiful and elusive creature that was hard, even for him, to catch. Her beauty was the same as that of the sun's, graceful and strong. It was warm, even the flowers gravitated towards her.
He did. She pulled his attention like an unavoidable magnet, inescapable. It was impossible, he knew, for him to even think of pursuing her. She was light, he was darkness. She was gentle, he was crushing. She was an angel, sent from the heavens, and he was a demon from the darkest of hells.
Yet, what was he thinking now? That he wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch her, prove that she was real.
Was there really such a harm in that?
Her footsteps were light and airy, and then she was crouched right in front of him. A hand was raised, as if she, too, wanted to reach out.
As if of its own accord, his own barely grazed her fingertips. For the first time in a very long time, he felt alive. She was warm and vibrant, and it was contagious. His eyes closed, and a sigh escaped him. Her fingertips down his arm... tracing the circles under his eyes, heaven. Edward never wanted to leave.
"You're so cold..." her voice was like a balm, soothing and rich. He could soak it in forever. A soft chuckle escaped his lips.
"I'm a vampire, dead. Corpses don't retain heat."
She smiled gently and sat next to him, startling him a bit. He had become used to being avoided, most found the diamond like quality of his skin repulsive. She leaned her head against his shoulder. Wings curled along her, feathery and white.
"Mm, I don't retain cold. I guess we match," she laughed. "Angels are most comfortable in the cool air of heaven, but it's boring so sometimes I visit. Your skin feels good."
Maybe mornings weren't so painful after all.