Summary.
While Bella sleeps, Edward thinks. But about what, exactly? And Emmett has a question for Edward, but can he ever truly understand the answer?

-- -- --

Slumber
by The Volvo, aka Lasia.

"What do you do?"

I ignored Emmett's question as I grabbed the small, gold-wrapped box off the bed I'd never gotten rid of. It was too useful to just remove it. I ushered past him and back downstairs, as his hulking form followed close behind.

"Come on, Edward. Don't you ever get bored, just laying there while she sleeps?"

I paused at the front door. Alice's head perked up from where she sat on the couch, her hands hovering over swatches of fabric in all different colors. I turned around to face him, and denied the instinct to laugh at Emmett's true curiosity over the subject. His brows were furrowed, his lips set in a straight line as he waited for my answer. I smiled, thinking how ridiculous his question was.

"No," I said simply, before bowing out into the night, racing the wind towards the little yellow house and the open second-story window that awaited me.

-- -- --

There was a small light in the window above me, pouring its warm yellowness over the too-green lawn. I was in the shadows, where I would be invisible to Charlie, on the off-chance he were to look outside at any time. It was a slim possibility, as he'd fallen asleep about two minutes ago.

When I reached the windowsill a moment later, her warm hand was there, waiting to accept mine in what would normally be a gesture to steady me or help me through the window. We both knew the real reason, and didn't shy away from it. She needed to feel my touch just as surely as I needed hers. As soon as my fingers tips brushed against her palm, all my worries that she had somehow reached an untimely fate while I'd been away or that she had somehow hurt herself in that clumsy way of hers disappeared. It was relief, and as sweet as they come. She sighed as I enveloped her in my cool embrace, her frail arms wrapping themselves around my waist in return.

This was heaven, even if I was destined for Hell.

I breathed in the strawberry scent of her shampoo, the more natural honeysuckle of the very light perfume she wore. I could list for days the different, tantalizing scents I noticed there, but one was stronger than the rest, and that one was what I longed to keep about her. Her humanity, symbolized by the essence of her blood.

Because the moment that my venom poisoned her system, that scent would no longer be the same. She'd still be Bella. She'd just be different. And I hated to think of what would be lost.

"What are you thinking?" she murmured against my chest, and I chuckled lightly.

"I was wondering the same about you."

"Hmm." She pulled away from me, but remained tethered by her hand, which was still enclosed in mine, as she pulled us both towards the bed. I sat, barely jostling the comforter, and watched as she drew simple, thoughtless shapes on the back of my hand with her thumb. "Do you ever think you'll get used to it?" She looked up at me through the fringe of her eyelashes, and though I understood, she explained. "To not hearing me?"

I furrowed an eyebrow, and smiled lightly. "I don't know. It's disconcerting to think that there are people out there who are immune, no matter how small that percentage is. Perhaps you are alone in that small sense." I nudged her playfully – but gently, always gently -- with a finger. "Perhaps you're the exception to the rule. The freak of nature."

Though her eyes smiled, she frowned. "Says the vampire."

I laughed and pulled her into my arms, onto my lap. I brushed her hair away from her ear and leaned in, the warmth of her skin emanating against my cheek. "Birds of a feather," I breathed, and kissed her neck, just below her ear, where I could feel her pulse race under my lips.

When I pulled away a moment later – at which she frowned, annoyed that my self-restraint was not quite won over by the impossible pull of my desire – and leaned back on the bed, my arms propping me up, she noticed the flash of gold next to my hand. She picked it up, twirled it in her fingers, then shot me a blasphemous look.

"Edward." She almost growled, and set the present down between us, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She glared at me, and would not pay it the slightest bit of attention.

"Bella." My voice chimed, such a contrast to her tone that I laughed. "Sweetheart, I thought we'd gone over this."

She nodded. "We did. But I was under the impression that you were only giving me gifts to infuriate me, and when I'd relent, you'd stop." She threw the little box a look of contempt. "Obviously that wasn't the case."

I picked up the little box and balanced it in my palm. "Bella, it won't bite you."

"Ha! If only."

I frowned at her. "Please."

"I don't want it, Edward."

"Well, that is one thing I'm talking about." I leaned across the bed and caught her chin in my palm, so that we were inches apart. I saw her eyes widen in shock, her breath quickening and becoming more shallow as she peered back at me with those liquid pools of brown. "Please don't talk about that as if it's nothing."

I stayed there for a moment, and when it seemed she would not argue, I settled back into a more casual position than kneeling; my legs crossed, my arms resting lightly on my knees. I watched as her chin dropped towards her chest slightly, and the lock of hair that had been tucked behind her ear swung forward.

"It's not nothing. It's everything, Edward. It's all I've ever wanted."

Her voice was low, and quiet enough to just cut to where it would hurt. I grimaced, and glared down at the little gold package. Surely she would know how that felt?

"Oh!" She scrambled across the bed, the package tumbling out of the way. "No, Edward; oh, no!" Her hands held my face between them, forcing me to look at her. Ah, how many times had I done the same to her? "That's not what I mean. Forget I said it, I was stupid."

I offered a half-cocked grin and coaxed her hands away from my face, folding them both in one of my own so that I could caress her cheek and brush her hair away from her face with the other. "Not stupid, Bella."

"Well, then, I was an idiot. Something! Just let me blame myself." Her eyes were hard, her lips quivering ever so slightly. "I hurt you, and that's inexcusable."

I grinned, seizing my opportunity. My hand slid from where it rested on her neck, to hold her chin lightly in place. "Not as inexcusable as you being selfish." I raised an eyebrow and gave her a truly childish look. I shouldn't be pouting, but I was. Quite shamelessly, too.

Her confusion was as adorable as her frustration. "Selfish? How?"

"Oh, Bella," I chuckled, and released her hands. "You're being very selfish, by refusing to make me happy just so you can avoid opening a small, harmless box." I looked down at the package pointedly, and I heard her groan. I smiled to myself.

"And you're selfish to play so unfairly," she muttered darkly, and I grinned victoriously. Yes, extremely shameless. She retrieved the package and pulled away the paper with extreme caution – and a flashback of last September sprinted across my mind. I flinched.

The wrapping paper unfurled in her hand, and beneath it was a wide, flat, sapphire-blue, velvet box, complete with metal hinges. The look in her eyes was murderous.

"What is this?"

"Well, you have to finish opening it, Bella."

She popped open the box, her eyes still trained on me. I sighed. "I'd like you to wear it."

"God help me, Edward, if it's a ring –"

I rolled my eyes and snatched the box away from her, my fingers gently lifting the silver chain away from the blue velvet pillow it rested on. It dangled from my fingers, the warm light from her bedside lamp glinting off it in shivering gold reflections. Her eyes traced the liquid-like chain, coming to a rest on the small pendant dangling from it. Much to her chagrin, I watched her eyes light up and her lips part in a silent O of appreciation for the artistry that hung there.

At the end of the polished silver chain hung a small, faceted topaz teardrop, dangling from a simplistic, small, silver clasp. It was minimal, and when I found it, I was instantly drawn to buying it for her. It wasn't worth much, especially when compared to the diamond heart that dangled from her wrist. . . but she needn't know just how much that charm was worth. At least, if she hadn't figured it out already, I wasn't going to tell her.

Her fingers reached out and grazed the little honey-colored gem, as if afraid to take it from me. Once her hand was cupped beneath it, I let go of the chain, letting it slither into her palm. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she looked up at me. I smiled.

"I'd like you to wear it," I said again, "at the wedding."

She frowned momentarily, before nodding. "Of course," she whispered, before attempting to unlatch the minuscule clasp. She fumbled with it for a few moments before I coaxed it away from her, sliding off the bed at the same time. She sighed and picked her hair up and out of the way, and I slid the graceful little chain around her neck and secured the little clasp. Before she could release her hair, I placed a light trail of kisses from the nape of her neck to the spot just behind her ear, grinning against her skin when I felt the goose bumps that rose there.

I moved around the edge of the bed, and she reached for the beside light, flicking it off hesitantly. I knew why she hesitated, even if she'd never tell me. It was one of those inexplicably sincere, sweet, and crazy things she did, that rueful look she gave me before the room was washed in darkness, studying my features. I secretly did the same, although I could still discern her features perfectly. Darkness did not dampen her beauty for me, did not hide it away.

She crawled under the blankets and I tucked them in around her, smiling at the child-like routine. As soon as I had finished, I lowered myself onto the bed beside her, and her hand found mine. I brought it to my lips and kissed it gently, holding it there.

"Are you. . . nervous, at all?" Bella's voice was quiet, low, and sounded somewhat embarrassed. I frowned.

"I suppose I am, but not at all for the reasons you are." Her anxieties about what her mother would think were not shared by me. Renee was understanding enough, and she knew how much Bella and I cared for one another. I was more concerned about Charlie, whose distaste for all things concerning me grew more pronounced as the wedding date loomed nearer.

I wasn't fearful that he'd hurt me, however. I was afraid he'd take her away, and that was not something I could survive. But I had to trust that Charlie knew his daughter, and that he would understand that this was mutual, and was necessary. Not because of Bella's demands -- the idea of what was bound to happen after the wedding set loose within me the desire to snarl horribly and possibly break something – but because what we had was much deeper than a high school romance, and should be cemented as such.

I heard her sigh, and the sound bordered on a moan. "Does that upset you?" I asked, my brows furrowed deeply.

"No. I just feel horrible that I'm not more sure of this." She snuck a glance at my shadowy visage, and grimaced. "Not unsure of us. Never unsure of us. There's nothing besides us," she said, and I could hear the hint of hysteria that edged her tone, caused by her sleepiness. I smiled lightly against the back of her hand as she went on. "I just hate that I'm not as happy about it as you are. I can't wait to be yours. I could just do without the ceremony."

I kissed the back of her hand again as her eyes fluttered; she was struggling to stay awake. "It'll be fine, Bella. Renee and Charlie will be so overwhelmed."

"That's what I'm afraid of," she garbled, and I laughed.

"It'll be happiness," I reassured her, and laid a light hand on the side of her face. "Go to sleep, Bella. It's alright."

"Stay," she whispered, already sinking into unconsciousness. I nodded, brushing a lock of hair away from her neck.

"Silly Bella," I whispered sweetly. "I'll always stay." And I began to hum her lullaby very, very quietly.

"Hmm," was the only other sound she made, before she sighed lightly and allowed herself to fall asleep. I turned her hand over lightly and kissed her palm, before releasing her and watching the faint glimmers of emotions wash over her face, as they always did as she began to sleep.

Fifteen minutes later, when I was sure she was not going to be jolted awake by my movements, I rolled onto my back; my eyes were still trained on her, and I watched as her dreams, so unknown to me, unfurled in her mind.

How I wish I could hear those dreams! She would never tell me, of that I was sure. She was much to embarrassed by the things which gave me joy – the race of her heartbeat when I kissed her, the blush of her skin under my touch. To see that. . . and then to know that I would take all of that away from her. . . it was more than I wished to bear at the moment.

So I let the thoughts eddy away. Instead I concentrated on her, and her alone.

Her eyelids fluttered, a side effect of whatever dream she was having. Her long lashes brushed gently against the top of her cheek, just below her closed eyelid. Her lips pursed faintly, and I waited with bated breath. It was usually about now that she began talking, her voice low and hushed. . .

When Jacob's name slipped past her lips, I didn't frown, didn't react. It was common anymore, for her to utter the name once or twice throughout the night. And I understood, or I tried to. She loved him, and still did, and there was nothing I could do about that. He was as much a part of her as she was a part of me, and I owed him my life many times over. I could not deny her that right to grieve for the missing part of her heart.

So I waited for it to pass, and eventually his name was no longer on the tip of her tongue. I closed my eyes and listened, for among the hushed words and pleas, my name seemed to be a faint echo of a whisper. I hoped I was not so selfish as to hear what wasn't there.

Occasionally the hushed mutterings were broken by louder words, though her tone was never much louder than a murmur; when she said my name then, her voice was always much clearer. And when it was combined with three, heart-warming words (if I'd had a heart, and it could be warmed, that is), it sent a thrill of love and adoration so strong through me that I could barely contain it.

I had long since realized I would lie by her side for all eternity, if she would allow me to. There was no part of me that doubted how quickly I would die for her safety, or, more appropriately, how hard I would fight, tooth and nail – quite literally, in the case of the tooth – to protect our life together. And to think it was all so that I could take her life away, in the end. She claimed it was what she wanted, but. . .

No. I shook those thoughts away. I mustn't think of things that would upset me easily when she was so peaceful, so close. I brushed a finger down the length of her jaw and she sighed, causing my lips to part in a wide, crooked smile – her favorite.

I would lie here forever. And never be bored, as Emmett might think.

And perhaps that was very, very selfish of me. But I couldn't care less, for the entire world, and everything important to me that it held, was resting beside me, breathing my name.

I could never, ever be bored.

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Disclaimer.
I AM Bella Swan. Are you kidding me? . . . No. I'm not. I don't. I won't, ever.

Author's Note.
Um. . . this is just plotless fluff, because I can't resist getting in Edward's mind, finding out what he's thinking. It's like I channel him or something. He's so much fun to write.

Please review. PLEASE. I'm begging. This is my most popular story so far, which is kind of sad, I guess, seeing as it has little over a dozen reviews. Just let me know that I'm not as bad an author as I'm starting to feel I am.