I am a lovesick fuck.

Nearly fifteen years of loving him, and yet I still can't get him out of my mind.

Nearly five years of not seeing him, and yet I still dream about him every night.

We started just as acquaintances – our moms worked together – but the attraction between us simply couldn't be ignored. I watched him grow up: his voice deepened a sexy rasp, his shoulders broadened and his body lengthened and his face eventually lost that puppy fat to become angular, with a strong jaw and high cheekbones framing sparkling eyes, the color of apples.

He watched me grow boobs, watched my friendship with his younger brother grow, watched as little Jasper grew to be just as tall as him, and to develop a crush on me that rivaled mine on that elusive eldest brother.

Edward Cullen was a genius – introverted, but still a genius. Oh, and did I mention that he's wonderful and sensitive? He was offered an unconditional place, early decision to go straight into his second year of Medicine at Yale with a minor in World History. You know, just for kicks.

Edward may have had an IQ of 210, but he had an etiquette quotient of 0. His devotion to his studies hit his social life hard and he had three good friends: his school mate, Jasper Hale; his father, Carlisle Cullen; his younger brother, Emmett Cullen.

And then there was me, the girl who loved him from afar. Sure, we spoke; I effectively lived at the Cullens'. Every time my parents were out of town, which, considering their jobs was often, I stayed there – I had my own bedroom and everything – and enjoyed it. The Cullen matriarch, Esme, was my godmother and I was like a daughter to her – the daughter that she never had. I joked with her about boys and periods, I joked with Carlisle about hospital waiting rooms (God knows I had been in enough) and I joked with Emmett about penis and porn.

I debated with Edward about the Elizabethan foreign policy and the relations between and Stalin and Hitler, the bastards.

Funnily enough, it was those conversations that I enjoyed the most.

Unfortunately, those exchanges were few and far between. Edward remained shut in his room playing the piano or doing supplementary homework whilst I stayed in the kitchen, baking in the Cullens' stainless steel chef's kitchen or watching a lewd film with Emmett in the playroom.

The times that I did see Edward, he was coming out of his room to go for a marathon-length run or to go to the movies with Jasper.

Yet this elusively awkward teenager attracted me, he intrigued me. During forced dinner parties set up by our mothers, Edward sat on a couch in the corner and fidgeted with his clothes or twiddled his fingers, and I melted. I wanted to go over there, sit next to him and hold his hands, wrap his long fingers around mine and soothe his furrowed brow with a tender kiss.

And then I would lead him up to his room and fuck him senseless.

Edward had the body of a god. He worked out and lifted weights and played rugby and tennis. Several times (without him knowing that I was over) he would come downstairs with merely a thin towel wrapped around his waist. I saw the six-pack; I wanted to lick the six-pack. I saw the magnificently sculpted pecs topped with perfect round nipples; I wanted to suck those nipples.

And the flimsy cover-up didn't hide his dick, hanging limp and proud underneath there.

But every single fucking time that I tried to talk to him about anything other than history or literature, he bolted. He would make the lamest excuses: that he had an essay to do, that he needed to clean the shower, that he needed to brush his hair.

I knew for a fact that he doesn't brush his hair, because his hair is ridiculous. It's so fucking knotty because he never brushes it and keeps running his fingers through it and making it stick up everywhere.

But, shit, I love the damn guy.

And I told him that, too. The night before I started the last semester in my senior year, I stayed at the Cullens'. That night, Emmett and I watched a movie, as usual, except this time Edward joined us, which was unusual. Of course, my teenage heart sped up every time he shifted towards me. Every time he made some snarky comment about the script, I took to be an expression of love.

The credits had rolled before I realized that his admission of adoration for me wasn't going to come.

So I decided to take matters into my own hands and tell him myself.

The house was silent and black. I tiptoed to my room after a whispered good night to Emmett and changed into my pajamas: just simple baggy pants and a very see-through, beaten up vest that I knew showed my nipples.

I reached up for the doorknob to the bathroom just as the door swung open to reveal a wet, just-showered Edward, complete with no shirt and some hot tartan pj bottoms.

He gasped and apologized breathlessly, edging around me and giving me a lame nod with wild eyes before darting back into his bedroom.

My eyes filled with tears and I slammed the door to the bathroom, washing my face with much more vigor than usual.

A pep talk was needed as I brushed my teeth: "it's been ten years of unrequited love. At least find out whether it really is just you."

I took a deep breath, pulled down my tank to show a wee bit of cleavage and mussed my hair.

I pulled on the doorknob. It didn't open.

Unlocking it would have been helpful.

Another deep breath and I faced Edward's door, only to find him coming out of the playroom next door. He saw me, gave a nervous smile and turned to go back into his bedroom.

"Hey, Edward," he spun around to face me, a look of genuine terror on his face, "I was wondering whether I could talk to you for a few secs…"

He nodded mutely and backed a few steps back into the playroom, leaning against the open door. I stood, leaning against the doorjamb, instantly regretting my decision.

And then he gave me a winning smile that brought up half of his face so that it was kinda crooked.

Inevitably, my heart melted.

Now I was the nervous tit.

"Um, I was just wondering… Basically…. Edward, I kinda like you…"

The smile remained, but became a little sad and pitying. And I became very very worried, but kept digging my grave.

"I was just wondering whether, uh, you, uh, liked me too? I mean, please just be honest 'n' all otherwise I'll just keep—"

A cold finger was placed on my lips and my knees gave way a little.

"Oh, Bella…"

Oh, shit.

"You're like a sister to me. I apologize."

A hideous burning flush came out of fucking nowhere, and I felt the burn of shame on my face and shoulders. Utter, humiliated vulnerability prickled at the back of my neck, and I just needed to get out of there and call Alice.

"O-o-okay… um, thanks for letting me know?"

And then I fucking bolted to my room across the hall, except a strong arm stopped me from moving.

"Oh, Bells, com'ere…"

And then he pulled me into the most beautiful, sensitive hug that I have ever had in my life. I know that he meant it to comfort me, and I know that he was absolutely adorable, because he didn't have to do that, but it just made me even sadder. It seemed like he was rubbing it in how great he was and how well we would work, because, I swear to God, we just fucking fit.

I'm much shorter than him, but my head fits nicely into his firm chest and his arms wrap so warmly around me so that I feel absolutely safe with him there. All I could think of, in that one moment was, 'if I were wearing heels, he could rest his chin on my head perfectly.'

And then, of course, the fucking tears came. But I held them in until I could mutter a "thanks" and look into his eyes one fucking time before sprinting back into my room.

I cried into the pillow until morning. The texts from Alice were brief and far apart and did nothing for my feelings. In fact, they also seemed to be a giant 'fuck you' because she was staying over at Jasper's and they were having sex for the first time and they were together and so in love. They still are and it just makes me sick but I can't say anything about it because – guess what – it's just so fucking beautiful that it makes me fucking cry sometimes.

And now what am I doing?

I'm going back to Forks for Jasper's birthday.

Edward is going to be there.

There is a party at the Cullens'.

I am invited.

So is Edward.