The subway moved noisily down its tracks, empty but for those few brave enough to wander alone through the New York streets at night. In the third car, under its blinking fluorescent lights, sat two passengers. A homeless man lay sleeping on the back seat, newspaper resting crinkled on his lap, and a worn patchwork quilt balled up under his head. Drool dripped from his mouth as he slept, glistening on his dirty and greying beard.
He contrasted drastically from the man sitting across the car from him, reading a worn paperback novel like it was his lifeline. He wore a plain grey suit with a loosened tie. Beside him was his worn black backpack and a leather suitcase.
The car slowed slightly and then made its stop, breathing a sigh as its doors opened. Through them walked a woman, completely immersed in the sheaf of papers she was reading. She wore a dark blue dress and a determined smile. Tripping slightly over the threshold, she cringed, hoping that the conscious passenger of the subway hadn't seen her clumsiness. She sat in the center of the car, and soon, incessant typing could be heard throughout, breaking the young man from his daze.
He placed a hand in his book and closed it around his fingers to look up at the new addition to this quiet subway ride. She was distracted, mumbling to herself as she typed. This made him smile, for it reminded him of someone he once knew and still loved. Saddened, he looked back to his book.
She chanced a glance up at him, and was reminded of the man she refused to forget. She shook her head and tried to forget, to start to type again, but the bright blue of her dress distracted her. She smiled wryly, "I do this to myself" she thought and sighed, looking down at her novel, so close to completion.
She felt nervous about this book, finally straying from her normal genres of science fiction and fantasy, and instead writing a realistic fiction. It was based solely on her own life, on him. She looked up again, and met the eyes of a stranger, eyes so familiar it made her gasp. She quickly looked down, without looking at him further, her mind whirling. It was just coincidence that he had those eyes, those topaz eyes that reminded her again how much she actually loved the color, and him. He must be some other vampire, one that followed the same vegetarian lifestyle that she had adopted as her own. The stranger's eyes were warm.
He stood up, but she didn't notice, too distracted by her swirling thoughts. He moved slowly toward her, his heart almost pounding like it had so many years ago, when he had last seen her. She looked up at him, startled at his proximity as he lowered himself into the seat next to her, not being able to trust his own legs to hold him up. She closed her laptop quickly, but not before he saw his name, again and again written on the page. "Edward?" she whispered, so quietly that he couldn't tell if he was meant to hear it at all. "Bella, is it really you?" he said, astounded. He placed his fingers under her chin, and lifted her face until he could see her shining amber eyes, almost as if for the first time; repeating quietly but happily "Is it really you?"