Summary: When Bella makes the split decision to enter a late night bookstore, she doesn't realize it will be her last act of freedom. But fear can turn to love. Can she truly find the man behind the monster or is this simply a case of Stockholm Syndrome? "You had that look in your eyes like you wanted something. Like you wanted it for a long time." Idea based off of the novel Stolen.

"Long lost words whisper slowly to me, still can't find what keeps me here. When all this time I've been so hollow inside, I know you're still there." ~Evanscence

Chapter 1: Haunted

You saw me before I saw you. You had that look in your eyes. Like you wanted something, like you'd wanted it for a long time.

I wonder now how long you had been watching me before you decided to make your move. Was it hours? Days? Years? Did you plan it? You must have. It was too perfect to have been a spur of the moment thing. It seemed to me like you knew exactly what you would do. You thought this through. Carefully planned when you would do this, how you would do this. But how could you have been so sure I would come to you? Am I really that predictable?

Going into the bookshop was just a spur of the moment thing for me, even if your plan was not. I was just on my way back from seeing a movie with Angela and Mike. It was late, dark outside. Mike even offered to walk me back to my car, even though they had parked in the opposite direction. Port Angeles was a dangerous city after dark, but I hadn't parked too far; I could make it to my car within a couple of minutes. Now I wished I had taken him up on that offer. Maybe then you wouldn't have gotten your chance.

I was determined to walk a straight path to my car at a brisk pace so I could make it out of there in one piece. Like I said, I hadn't planned on visiting the bookstore. But when I saw it was still open, despite the late hour, I couldn't resist. Five minutes, I told myself. I could have five minutes.

I smiled when I stepped inside. The smell of antique books, brewed coffee, and leather chairs was welcoming in the dimmed lighting of the store. This had been the only place where I could really enjoy myself. The only place I was happy in. You ruined that for me, too.

I scanned the shelves of the small store, looking for a title that interested me. It was nearly empty, seeing as it was close to closing time, but I didn't mind so much. It was quieter, and I preferred being by myself. I picked up a familiar title and paid for it at the counter. Instead of leaving, I decided to stay a bit longer and read a few pages, sitting down in one of the leather chairs by the fireplace. I suppose that was my second mistake.

It was then that you decided to approach me.

"Romeo and Juliet?"

You startled me. I had thought I was the last one in the store, but apparently I was wrong. You were there with me; Just as you had been for years.

I nodded, glancing down at the book in my hands and then back at you.

"You look like a Shakespeare fan." You smiled, sitting down in the chair across from me. "You don't mind if I sit, do you?" You almost looked worried that I would say no. And maybe I should have. Maybe you would have gone away and continued your stalking from a distance. But that would be rude. So I shook my head instead.

You rubbed your hands together, leaning your elbows on your knees. I noticed you didn't have a book with you. Why else would you be in a bookstore if not to buy a book? I know now that you simply followed me in.

"The one I have at home is really beaten up. I figured I'd just buy a new one." You nodded as if you understood.

"I didn't mean to scare you before when I came over. You just..." You looked at your hands. "You caught my eye." The corner of your mouth lifted into a smirk. I bet you thought you were funny. Was this all just a joke to you?

When I didn't answer you looked up at me. "What's your name?"

"Bella." I wouldn't have admitted it then, but you made me uncomfortable. There was something disconcerting about you. It made me uneasy, made my heart speed up and my palms sweaty. It was the kind of feeling you get when walking down the street alone at night. The kind of feeling you get when you're watching a scary movie, right before the killer pops out.

"Bella..." You smiled and put out your hand. "I'm Edward."

At first, I just stared at the hand you offered. I didn't want to touch you. I suspected your skin to be icy and rough by the paleness of it, but it was surprisingly warm and soft in mine. Your skin was smooth and shocked me when I grabbed your hand. My fingers still tingled when you released me. I noticed your smile widen. Did you feel it too?

"Well, Bella, it sure is a pleasure to meet you." You didn't say much after that. You stared at me for a long time, long enough for me to blush. That made you smile again. I wondered if you enjoyed my discomfort. You asked me a few questions and no matter how vague I was, you still seemed to push it. What was I doing in Port Angeles? Where did I go to school? Did I like it there? What were my friends like? Did I have a boyfriend? But my hesitance didn't matter much because you knew the answers already, didn't you?

"I love Forks. But sometimes it's a little overwhelming," I admitted.

"What do you mean? A small town like that...seems like it would be peaceful."

I frowned. "You'd think. I guess most people feel that way, but...I don't know. Small towns, everyone knows everything about you. Everyone gossips. There's no privacy really. Not to mention the rain around here." I had told you that I was new here, moved about two years earlier, but I didn't tell you where from. I'm not sure why I told you all these things. Maybe it was because it was nice to finally confide in someone who I figured I would never see ever again anyway or maybe I just wanted someone to listen. Maybe it was because you actually seemed interested in what I had to say. Either way, I told you. "Sometimes I just wish I could get away from it all."

Something sparked in your eyes when I said that, and you nodded, turning your head to look into the fireplace. I took that moment, when you finally stopped staring at me, to look at you. I mean really look at you. There was no denying that you were handsome, probably the most handsome man to go out of his way to have a conversation with me. I noticed your strong jawline and straight nose. I thought your hair was interesting in the way it shot out in different directions, like you just woke up, but still managed to look good. It was a nice color. A light brownish, I guess. More like copper. It reminded me of a penny but looked redder in the light of the fire. Your skin was pale, as I noticed before, and it intensified the dark circles under your eyes. It looked like you hadn't had a good night's sleep in a while. Was it because you were too busy plotting this? Did you stay up at night, thinking of what you would say? Or did you toss and turn, fighting with yourself about whether or not you should go through with it?

When you looked back at me, I gasped at the intensity of your stare. Your eyes were a bright green. Like emeralds. They seemed to glow or sparkle in the dark lighting. I could see the reflection of the flames in your pupils. Those eyes seemed to be looking deep within me, crushing me with the weight of their stare. They seemed conflicted. Like you were trying to tell me something with those eyes. Like you were afraid for me, like you wanted me to figure out your plan right then and there. Like you wanted me to get up and run as fast and as far away from you as I could. But I stayed sitting in the soft leather chair, staring back at you. Unable to look away.

Before you could say anything, the store clerk walked up to us. "We're closing." He nodded toward the door. "I have to lock up."

I remember his nametag said Steve. He had light hair and brown eyes, and he was wearing black-framed glasses that were pushed all the way up his nose. He was decent looking. I wonder if he caught on to the intensity of your stare too because when he looked at you he took a step back.

"No big rush," he stammered, turning away. "Just letting you know."

Did you have that effect on everyone? Anyway, it made me feel a little better that I wasn't the only one uncomfortable around you.

"I guess we should get out of here." You laughed but cut it short, almost like you forced it. Laughter didn't particularly suit you.

I didn't want to leave the comfort of the store, especially with you, but I didn't seem to have any other choice. Steve was getting anxious behind the counter, checking his wristwatch for the third time. So I gave you a tight smile and followed you out the door, clutching my book to my chest like a shield. When we got outside, it was darker than I anticipated. A few more store lights were turned off, the shops closed for the night. The only real light was from the flickering streetlamp on the corner and what squeezed past the clouds from the moon.

"It was nice meeting you," I lied. Without looking at your face again, I spun in the opposite direction, walking as fast as I could without looking like I wanted to sprint. But maybe I should have.

I swear my heart nearly stopped when I heard you keep pace right behind me. I turned my head to look at you, my eyes wide, but you just smiled and nodded in the direction of my car. "I'm parked this way too."

I noted the silver car parked about three spaces from my own. It was a Volvo. It was the kind of car soccer moms drove. I frowned and continued walking. When I got to my door, I fumbled with my keys. You were only ten feet away from me. Eight feet. Seven. Three … I dropped my keys, cursing under my breath.

"Here, I'll get it," you said, nearly bumping heads with me as you crouched to the ground. Then you stood up, dangling my car keys in front of me. When I went to grab them, you pulled your hand back, smirking at me.

"Give me my keys." I tried to keep my voice as strong as possible, but it still shook.

You grinned, tilting your head to the left. "All right. I was just kidding around." You dropped the keys into my hand, and I gripped them tightly, turning around and unlocking my door.

That was my third mistake.

You grabbed me when my back was turned. You held a cloth to my face before I could even blink. My scream was muffled by your hand, and my vision got blurry. I tried to kick you and dropped my book, but my foot only met empty space. You shushed me the way you'd shush a crying toddler. I wished then that Steve would lock up the damn store already and come outside.

I felt myself go heavy, the weight of my body becoming too much for my legs to handle. I fell, going limp in your arms. The last thing I felt was my feet leave the floor as you swooped me up. The last thing I saw was those emerald green eyes.

Then, nothing.

AN: Quick thanks to the Betas over at PTB!

This is something new and a bit different so please give me some feedback! Whatcha think?