In Sunlight
It was twilight again. I stared at the heavy silver moon, hanging like a coin against the silk dome of cold sky.
"Like marble," I whispered, and immediately I couldn't stop myself from glancing over at Edward, who was standing a few feet away, gazing at the sky silently. It was a warm night; summer was approaching, and Edward had long ago stripped off his plain white shirt, as if to try and recapture the evanescent warmth of a June evening.
"Hey," I whispered, sliding my arm around his and leaning my head against his bare shoulder, which chilled my cheek in the balmy air. "Introspecting?"
His kiss was a perfect scar. "Looking at the moon," he said mildly. "It looks so close tonight."
I nodded against his arm. "A summer moon."
We stood in silence for a moment, watching as the first few stars twinkled into existence amid the chill black expanse of celestial canvas. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen and gasped.
"I think the baby just kicked!" I said, surprised. Edward blinked in perfect curiosity and silently held out a hand, placing it against my swollen belly. There was another swift burst of beautiful pain and Edward's lips curved into a smile.
"I felt it," he said softly, and pressed his ear to my stomach. "He kicked."
"Or she," I said, and the baby kicked again, as if to agree. Edward laughed.
Suddenly, a strange notion occurred to me. "Can you read her thoughts?" I asked quietly, putting my hand on the crown of Edward's head.
Edward, who had been placing kisses on my belly, went suddenly still.
"I don't know," he said slowly.
I don't know why, but I held my breath as he pressed his ear to my belly and closed his eyes. In the moonlight, he was a silver god, still and cold, listening. Then, suddenly, something strange passed over his face. His strong marble face softened, his lips parted, and his eyes opened slowly. It was a look that I had never seen before and the change sent shivers down my body. My hand, which was still resting on his head, tensed ever so slightly.
"I've never heard anything like this before," he whispered after a full minute of perfect silence. His voice was barely a butterfly of a sound. "She…oh God…" His voice caught and he looked as though he might cry. For the first time, I saw him not as Edward Cullen, the vampire, but as Edward Cullen, the father.
"She doesn't think in words," he said finally. "I can't describe it."
"Try," I urged, almost desperately.
There was a long pause as Edward struggled to find the words. "She thinks only in love," he tried finally. His hands inched up my belly and held me around the waist, clutching me to him. "In trust. In sunlight."
Suddenly, I was struck with a memory. I remembered one perfect, shining afternoon from my childhood, the sun on my legs, the wind caught in my hair, and for one brief, golden moment, I had had no thoughts, only the light-headed bliss of helium and glitter, of starlight, and the chimes of a thousand sunlit bells.
A mind-sweeping shiver swept over me like a wave and I fell against Edward with trembling comprehension. "In sunlight," I repeated. "Sunlight."