DISCLAIMER: The characters are not mine. The inspiration for this fanfic is attributed to the works of Stephenie Meyers. Twilight and New Moon are her intellectual property; therefore, she must be commended for the presence of this fanfic. Some of the last lines (specifically the dialogue) are taken from the book to make it more true to the author's original story.

Caution: For those who have read Midnight Sun, please don't be angry if this is different. It is my interpretation. And the style is somewhat different from the original author's style. I tend to ramble. For the rest of you lovesick saps and Edward lovers…ENJOY and REVIEW!

Complete

This fanfic is dedicated to LU and AM who got me to read Twilight and New Moon and are still trying to convince me that there is an Edward out there for everyone. For the record, Edward is still fictional and love…well you know what I think about that (wink)

"I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair,
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets,
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps."
-Pablo Neruda

Sweet. Luscious. Delectable. The flavor is beyond words. My normal diet consists of animal blood. Animal blood is syrupy sweet, often vacillating between two extremes: drippy and thick. It is a minimalist in terms of satiating my thirst. But this. This is human blood. As a vampire, you can say blood is my water. But if animal blood is soda, human blood is wine.

This was not the distasteful kind humans in college would drink from a box. What I am savoring now is akin to Pinot Grigio. This is sheer ecstasy. It's better than anything that I could have fathomed. Somehow, I have to stop. Somehow, I have to suppress my animalistic inclinations. I love her. Can I even recall what it was like without her? What was my existence like without her presence in my life?

Nostalgia seeps through the fissures of my mind. I have wandered this Earth for over a century. Carlisle finds solace in Esme. Rosalie in Emmett. Alice has Jasper. I was the black sheep in terms of soul mates. Perhaps, because I have always played Devil's Advocate when it came to love.

Distance in decades from my human existence claimed emotions as foreign entities I no longer knew. Since 1918, the spirit of humanity waned inside me. Over time, things like sorrow, hate, and envy became alien. Although not all had been lost. Laughter and joy I still experienced with my family. Anger surely, my temper unchanged in my transformation from mortal to immortal. However, love. No, love was different.

As a human, I was young. I was fresh and still new to the wonder of life and mortality. When Carlisle had changed me, I had not even been two decades old. Chicago had been filled with numerous attractive females. The constituents for dating were far different in 1901 than they are now. I was to be a gentleman towards the opposite sex. My affections towards a girl would have been subtle and covert. But none held my fancy. As I began to mature, Chicago's interior festered with disease. A Spanish pathogen thwarted my hormones from feeling or acting on any possible attractions.

Yes, I had experienced other love. My human parents had loved me, especially my biological human mother. Carlisle and Esme loved me, and as their son, I loved them in return. However, this parent to son dichotomy did not convey the essence of true love. Certainly not the intensity. My love for my family did not extend itself. My love for them possessed no passion.

Not that I knew of this passion. I had heard and read of it several times. Humanity had altered throughout the years. At first, I witnessed the frivolity and hedonism of the 1920s. Sorrow and destitution followed after in their economic decline. The brutality of war ravaged on. It was a wonder to me how humans, how this species had endured without their seemingly inevitable perdition. But love continued. Never has such an ideal possessed such stubborn perseverance.

It was an ideal that some lived for. And died for. It swayed the actions of many. Literature and history could not escape love. There was Romeo and Juliet, Antony and Cleopatra, Elizabeth Bennett and Fitzwilliam Darcy, Adam and Eve, and so many others. Even Edgar Allan Poe had disappointed me. His morbid disposition barely hinted at his numerous loves and Lenores.

What was this love? It held my interest. Human concerns had appeared as trifles. But their obsession with love left me curious. Reading books did little to assist me in my understanding. Their verbose description and superfluous grandiloquence did not translate into reality. So then, I turned to my own research.

For this, I utilized my gift. The thought of finding a human girl to fall in love with me seemed like such a tempting experiment. But I thought better of it. I could not risk endangering a human and succumbing to my instincts. Carlisle would not be pleased. Therefore, I relied on my advanced cognition for my research. I studied the human thoughts of those in love. It was amusing to say the least.

Ella and Vincent. Of all my subjects, they were the most interesting. Their love for each other seemed more solid. The others were mere infatuations driven by lust. Their affections were marred by extreme jealousy and youthful recklessness. But Ella and Vincent were different.

Their love had taken deep root. When WWII beckoned Vincent's services, the goodbye was a sad affair. I watched. No, actually I listened. Vincent's sense of duty was somewhat laughable and bizarre. His thoughts spoke of ambivalence. There he was, with the woman he loved in his arms. Yet, he was willing to leave his love…for what? War? It seemed so preposterous. Then again, humans were consistent in their lack of sensibility. Nonetheless, he thought of her often. His care and concern for her was astounding.

But what was even more astonishing was Ella's reciprocation. When he left, her thoughts ached and yearned for his presence. The absence of her true love left her melancholy. Often, she had felt incomplete without her dear Vincent.

I admit, I was ashamed. I was an intruder in their little world. But, alone, I wondered about this feeling of completeness. I could not remember sharing that feeling. I did not feel "complete", nor did I feel incomplete. Hah. Little did I know of love. Love and its complexities. Until her.

My existence had been somewhat mechanic. We were nomads. Traveling around the country, searching for sunless spots where our presence would be less conspicuous than necessary. Forks, Washington was our current stop. September arrived and another monotonous junior year. High school was wearisome. Especially after experiencing it more than once.

It started slow. January came and so did Forks gossip. Chief Swan's daughter was to live in Forks and attend High School as a junior. Her foreseen arrival was on the minds of many Forks adolescents. It was an insignificant piece of information. What did I care for this human girl?

The nineteenth rolled along, and high school bustled with subtle excitement. The males were enraptured by her presence. The females were torn between interest and jealousy at this girl's easily won popularity. I was less than amused. Just another human.

Intoxicating. The aroma had wafted in the open air of my Biology class. It was sweet and alarmingly decadent. It was more tender than a flower but less pungent than perfume. The feeling was incredulous. Never had I such a craving and yearning. I strained not to act on my desire. She was oblivious, of course.

After a brief retreat to Alaska, I returned. It was a struggle at first. I never sleep. But of her, I dreamed. Dreamed of tasting her blood, yes. But I also dreamed of being with her. I learned quickly that she was immune to my gift of reading thoughts. Therefore, her very being perplexed me. Was it a coincidence that the one I was so attracted to was resistant to my gift? It was stupid, I admit. To think that she would accept me. But I could no longer ignore her magnetic hold on me. I pursued her presence.

Never could I fathom that she would willingly acquiesce to our interaction. Was she not afraid? I waited painfully for when the fear would consume her. But it never did. Even after viewing me in the light, she was not afraid. The more I caressed her, the more bearable and easier it was to control my desire.

Despite our apparent…differences, things worked. The stroke of her hand on my arm left me breathless. Her touch tingled and left me warm. Her heartfelt confessions caught me unaware. I had convinced myself that the chances for mutual sentiment had been little. But I had never been more thankful that I was wrong. She met my family, and with one exception (ugh Rosalie) she was welcomed and adored. Everything nearly shattered before my eyes. It had been perfect, until James. snarl Vile pitiless unfeeling…

Thank goodness, we got here in time. I was already considering paying the Volturri a visit. How could I let this happen to her? Next time…no, there won't be a next time. I will let no harm come to her. She's my life now.

But, oh the taste of wine. The taste of her blood was delicious. I have to save her. I have to…to stop. MMmm. I cannot let her lose her soul. Her soul that is the quintessence of her very being and all that I love. As much as I wanted her presence for eternity, I cannot forfeit her humanity. And if she were to de damned. If she were to be subjected to the same fate as mine, I could not let the repulsive tracker be the one to change her.

With that, I reluctantly lift my mouth from the bite. The animal inside me growls at the act. Her blood still called to it. But I overcame the lust. Her blood was clean now. Carlisle meticulously works on her other wounds. Sigh. She's so fragile. Never, never will this happen again.

"Edward?" The sound of her weak voice catches me off guard. Momentarily, I am speechless.

"He's right here, Bella."

"Stay, Edward, stay with me…"

"I will," I promise her with some effort evident in my voice. And I mean it. For as long as she'll have me.

Carlisle looks at me. "Is it all out?"

"Her blood tastes clean. I can taste the morphine," I murmur. She's safe. She's human. I watch her as Carlisle asks more questions. How could I doubt the existence of love? Here she was. My everything.

"…-ank you, Edward"

"I love you." It was wonderful. Telling her this.

"I know," she breathed. I chuckle, relieved that my love was safe.

Carlisle turns to me. "It's time to move her," he says.

"No, I want to sleep," she says.

Oh Bella. "You can sleep, sweetheart, I'll carry you." Effortlessly, I lift her featherweight body and cradle her against my chest. Her warmth fills me and the pulsating beat of her heart resonates softly and soundly. "Sleep now, Bella," I whisper in her ear.

After years of loneliness. After decades of indifference. After a century without anyone to call my own. I have found her. My Bella. Without her, I could feel the black hole in my being. With her, that hole was filled. With her, I finally figured it out. With her, I realized love and its complexities. With Bella, I was complete.