So uhh... I got quite a few author and story alerts, two reviews and even a favourite, which I was pretty darn chuffed about. Thus, I have decided to continue.

Just don't go expecting me to update every day, or even every few days. Even every week is pushing it.

I've gotten Twilight drunk, but I still don't own it, men.

Oh, and did I forget to mention that I suck at paragraphing? I suck at paragraphing. So, there you have it.

Shaking my teeth loose on your table
The dullest white squares I'll never be
Now that you've picked each one apart you can't look at me
I'll probably lose you now
But at least the ones I have still sparkle

- Grace - Dear and the Headlights -


Edward was already in bed, half asleep, when he heard the front door creak slowly open.

He sat bolt upright, his heart pounding, straining to hear. Then he heard the familiarly gentle clicks of her ankles and the brush of hair on skin, and relaxed.

Bella sometimes came to his place in the early hours of the morning to get some item or another, or just use his coffee machine. She slept so erratically and infrequently, that three in the morning may as well have been three in the afternoon to her. All the same, she tried to stay quiet as she flicked on the coffee machine and seated herself in the dimly lit lounge.

"You'd better be making one for me too, B." Edward tried to sound angry but couldn't pull it off, sliding out of bed and into some clothes.

As much as he'd like to hide the fact, he liked being awake at night with Bella when everybody else was asleep. They had their best conversations at that time, and any time he was with Bella, he was happy.

"I think you have birds in your apartment," Bella said absently, stirring sugar into her coffee as Edward stepped out of his room and turned on the space heater.

"Birds?" Edward replied, confused.

"Yeah. One of them has left a nest on your head."

"You're funny," he answered in an amazed voice. She rolled her eyes and flopped onto the couch, her coffee spilling slightly over the edges of the cup.

"So, has he rung yet?" Bella asked, watching Edward's reaction carefully.

"Has who rung yet?" He knew the answer.

"My dad. Has my dad called?" Bella also knew the answer: no.

"Not since last time," Edward sighed. Bella's father was a nice guy; he loved his daughter and wanted to look out for her, but his new wife Sue wasn't so keen on Bella.

Bella nodded. She looked neither sad nor angry, which scared Edward slightly. "Ok then." She put her now empty mug on the table and picked up the remote, switching the tv on.

Bella grinned when she realized what was on: back-to-back episodes of Spongebob Squarepants. Edward groaned and threatened to go back to bed.

"Aww come on, Edward. I haven't seen you in at least... nine hours! Nine whole hours! I know you've missed me." She smiled at him.

"Yeah, I have," He replied seriously, before realizing she was joking.

Shit.

Bella gazed at him with wide eyes before shaking her head and looking away. "Sure you have. More like, you missed my iPhone and all the apps on it."

Edward chuckled, but felt the sudden urge to tell her exactly how much he missed her, whenever she wasn't there, whenever she was around the corner, out of sight.

But never out of mind.

"I really did miss you, you know," He said, scratching the back of his arm.

Butterflies erupted from the cocoons that lined her stomach, and she gave a small, uncertain laugh. "I missed you too."

--------

It was clear to Edward now, more than ever, that she was way, way too good for him.

Just the way she lay on the sofa reading, wriggling her toes. Or the way she considered her subject before capturing them with her camera, or paintbrush. Or the way she frowned and wrinkled her nose at cold gusts of wind on the streets.

Edward had always known Bella's innocence; how pure and captivating she was. She was the reason he made friends with brunettes, just to sleep with them. He could pretend, for that time, that they were Bella, and Bella wasn't the amazing person she was. That he, low and monstrous as he was, deserved her in some way.

He knew she felt something more for him than friends felt for each other. It was becoming apparent; every sneaky glance she stole, every smile she hid behind her hair when he said something flattering to her. But all the same, she was untouchable, and misguided in her interest for him.

That was why he had to stop this. All of it. He had to cut back on her. She was like an addictive substance he had to wean himself off. And she had to wean herself off him, too. He didn't want her to fall for somebody so much less than her.

So the next time she knocked on his door, he was ready. He slipped on his shoes and grabbed his keys.

"Sorry, Bells, I was just off to a friend's place. See you later?"

"Oh, right, sure," She smiled.

The time after that, he pinched his cheeks, rubbed at his hair and scrunched up a few tissues in his hand.

"Sorry, Bells, I've got the flu or something," He coughed dramatically.

She rolled her eyes but gave him a hug before leaving.

The next time, he had some friends over. They could be heard yelling and laughing from his doorway.

"Sorry, Bells, the guys just came round, and I'd feel pretty bad... I mean, you don't really know each other, so y'know. Wouldn't want to make things awkward."

She sighed, perhaps finally seeing what he was doing.

She tried nearly every day to see Edward, but every time he had an excuse, and every time her expression intensified in hurt, embarrassment and anger.

Yet the day after, she was back again, a small, flat brown paper parcel tucked under her arm.

"Sorry, Be-"

"You say 'sorry Bells' one more time, and I swear to God, you will never see me here, or anywhere else, again." Her face was red with fury, and her eyes were large with tears.

He didn't know what to say, so he just stood awkwardly, crossing his arms and leaning on the door frame.

"But I guess that's what you want anyway, right? Maybe I should just do you that service and stay out of your life. Huh? Isn't that what you want?" The tears spilled from her large, doe-like eyes and she brushed them away, embarrassed.

"No, of course it's not. I just... I really am sorry. I... I have been busy..." He said lamely, staring at his bare feet.

"Save your bullshit excuses, Edward Cullen. I've known you as long as I've lived. I've become pretty pro at figuring out when you're lying." She dropped the package at his feet, turned around and left.

He watched her leave, but he didn't know what to say to keep her with him. She shouldn't be with him anyway, he tried to tell himself. She surely had to realize how bad he was for her?

This is for the best.

He put the package on his table and gently tore the wrapping off.

Inside was a framed picture of them on the day Edward had turned nineteen. They were at Edward's parents' house. Bella was clinging onto his back, arms around his neck and legs around his waist, laughing wildly while he pulled a mock-pained face, pretending she was hurting him.

Strange how now, I'm the one hurting her, and this time it's for real.

The glass was shattered from when she had dropped it.


Here's an order: all of you, RIGHT NOW, go and read Progress by 107yearoldvirgin. Dayum, that girlie's crazy awesome.

And also, The Shoobie by thenoob. Only one chapter, but I'm already hooked. Review thenoob to make her update :D

-GE