EPOV

I sighed as I trudged slowly in to the empty lecture hall: I was almost always the first one there. I took out the assigned reading I had been given for my psych class today, and began to read it over a second time. I guess when you don't have any friends you have the time to do that kind of shit.... Well, that wasn't entirely true; I did have one friend, Emmet, but I'm sure he was only still friends with me out of habit. I had known Emmet since junior high, when I had still been the popular jock; star of the basketball team, and wanted by almost every girl in the school. Emmet had stuck by me when I started having problems, though I knew it was only out of obligation. Either way, I was grateful for his friendship.

I quickly tired of rereading the text, and I began to play absentmindedly with the pencil on my desk as the lecture hall began filling out. I noticed the other students always left me a wide berth; not daring to sit next to me; avoiding my smiles of acknowledgement as they sat down. I sighed as I was once again ignored. My reputation, I supposed, had preceded me.

I watched as our greying psych professor lumbered down the stairs, nearly tripping on every shallow step. I secretly wished he would; at least it would provide some entertainment in this tediously long class. Something caught my attentione in the corner of my eye, and I turned my head to find a girl standing next to me, shoving her bag under her seat. She sat down with a decidedly tired sigh, and I wondered with fascination why she had chosen to sit beside me. I looked around, wondering if all the other seats in the room were taken and she had no other choice, but there were plenty of empty spaces. Perhaps she didn't know who I was, in fact, that must be it; no one would voluntarily sit next to me. Thankful that someone wasn't treating me like I had some contagious disease, I turned to say hello to the girl, but was met with a curtain of thick brown hair that completely hid her face. I sighed and turned back in my seat to face the front of the hall. I could hear the proff clearing his throat and tapping the mic in an attempt to be heard, and I felt my mind drift away from my surroundings.

Class proceeded without a hitch, and I was thankful as I looked at the clock, realising there were only three minutes left in his incredibly dull lecture. I carefully placed my books in to my backpack, and smirked when I saw the pen of the girl next to me roll under my chair. She seemed to pause for a moment, probably wondering if it was worth the trouble, so I reached down and picked it up. I glanced up to hand it to her, and she froze, a look of shock spreading across her face. She was terribly beautiful, despite the fact that her hair looked like a haystack, and it looked as if she was wearing the clothes she had slept in last night. I stared at her chocolate brown eyes wide with shock, an wondered what about me could have possibly frightened her. Perhaps she finally realized who she was sitting next to. My gaze traced the outline of her beautiful lips, and I wondered how I hadn't before noticed this breathtaking girl. She gingerly took the pen from me, muttering a quick thanks, and turned away, obviously embarrassed. We sat in silence for the remaining two minutes of class, and when the proff dismissed the lecture, I saw her bolt from her seat with extraordinary speed, heading towards the door. I let out a mournful sigh. Why does everyone avoid me? I walked lazily out of the lecture hall, only to be met with the familiar drizzly grey sky that was typical of Seattle. I heaved my things in to my wet Volvo, and fired it in to gear. A smile spread across my face as I felt the powerful purr of the engine beneath me. I slammed on the gas, and sped away chasing the rainy pavement.

BPOV

Class seemed to drag on especially long. I had fallen asleep in my psych lecture only to be woken up by 300 staring classmates as the professor made a joke at my expense. I could feel the blood creeping in to my cheeks as I gave a nervous cough, realizing I probably looked a bit like a tomato right now. As the professor returned to rambling about Rene Descartes and animal magnetism, I discreetly ventured a glance at the clock. 3 minutes left. I began packing up my books, preparing myself for the sprint to my car in order to make it to work on time. I chucked my books in to my backpack, and realized too late my pen had been on top of my papers. I watched it roll under the chair of the boy next to me, groaning inwardly as I bent over to pick it up, only to find a hand already reaching for it. I glanced up and I felt my breath hitch. I openly stared, mouth agape, for what seemed like an eternity before snapping back in to reality. "Uh, thanks." I muttered awkwardly, looking away; hoping the bell would ring that very second to release me from my embarrassment. I had no such luck however, and was made to sit in hell for 2 minutes, next to the most beautiful man I had ever seen.

I drove to work in a state of disarray, still horribly embarrassed after what transpired during the lecture that afternoon. My mind was in a frenzy as I attempted to blink away flashes of green eyes, bronze hair, and perfect lips curling in to a wicked smile; the most perfect lips I'd ever seen. I shook my head, trying to let more intelligent thought prevail. "Enough," I growled to myself, not letting my mind succumb to immature fantasies. I sighed as I walked through the door of the quiet coffee shop where I worked, realizing there were no customers to keep me occupied. Tying my apron on with a little more force than necessary, I stomped in to the back room only to be greeted by my boss with his lips attached to a tall leggy blonde.

"Oh! God! Carlisle I'm really sorry. I didn't realise you'd…..have someone here," the words stumbled out of my mouth, making the moment infinitely more awkward. I sighed, running my hand through my hair nervously, and immediately about-faced out of the room, Carlisle in tow.

"Um, sorry about that Bella, this is…..Rosalie," he blurted out, a blush playing on his cheeks.

The leggy blonde stepped forward, obviously embarrassed, and took Carlisle's arm. Her hair was messed up in such a way that it rather resembled a rat's nest, but it was still obvious that she was painfully beautiful; and much younger than Carlisle.

I waved meekly, and turned away. I didn't think it possible for a person to be embarrassed this many times in one day; but I suppose when you are Bella Swan, anything is possible.

Carlisle shot me an apologetic look, and whispered something to the blonde. She nodded and brushed past me with a forced smile, making her way to the door.

Carlisle turned to me nervously, "Um Bella, I'm really embarrassed you saw that." No you're not, you're always trying to prove to me you aren't in love with me anymore.

"Oh of course, it's not...a problem." I stammered, fidgeting with the corner of my apron.

In truth, this had not been the first time I had witnessed something like this. In fact, Carlisle was always bringing women back here, most likely in an attempt to make me jealous; though it never had the desired effect, as any feelings I had for him had been long extinguished. There had been a time when Carlisle and I had been….involved, but it ended in a rather messy breakup, with more than one of our hearts broken. I shook my head forcebly trying to rid myself of the painful memory as I turned my attention back to a rather embarassed looking Carlisle.

"Oh, um. Okay Bella. Now that you're here I guess I don't really need to stay around, it's not like there are any customers anyways," he said, a note of bitterness in his voice. It had been a long time since the coffee shop had gotten much business, and I knew it was beginning to wear on his spirits.

"Yeah okay, I'll lock up tonight, don't worry."

He glanced at me gratefully and trudged towards the door, his eyes betraying what his lips would never say.

"Uhh, Carlisle?!" I asked as he turned around eagerly. "You might want to lose the apron before you leave," I said winking.

"Oh, right. Good idea," Carlisle muttered, a new shade of red colouring his cheeks. He was incredibly attractive, for an older guy of course, and it was too bad that things had ended the way they had between us. I sighed, and waved him out the door, turning to the kitchen to notice a huge batch of dishes. I cursed the lazy bastard under my breath, and ducked under the counter to find the dish gloves. I heard the bell on the door announcing someone's entrance, and thinking it was Carlisle, I yelled "Have you come back for make-out round two?!"

I heard an unfamiliar chuckle and a velvet voice that was distinctly un-Carlisle answer "Hm, that might be nice."

I raced to look up, smacking my head on the counter above me, and tumbling back on the floor. "Urrghhh," I could feel a hot pain searing through my forehead.

"Oh god. Are you alright?!" the voice of the stranger was etched with concern, and I prayed he wouldn't come around the counter to witness my embarassment. I thought I might die.

"Yeah, I'm…..okay, I just hit my head." My pride is the only thing that's been damaged.

"I think I'd better take a look-" he rounded the corner, stopping dead at the sight of me. My stomach fell through the floor as I glanced up, realizing the stranger with the velvet voice was the beautiful boy from the pych lecture. The wicked grin from earlier played on his lips, and I saw him gracefully comb his hand through his dishevelled bronze hair. Oh if only I could be that hand. Stop it! My mind was getting carried away with itself, and I realized the gaping expression on my face had elicited a strange look from the God-like man standing in front of me. I hurried to stand up, and I felt a strong hand grab my arm, another resting on my back in an effort to right me. I felt a blush creep across my cheek as I allowed myself to enjoy the contact far too much; imagining those hands, with their strange electricity, running over my body. I looked at him with what I hoped conveyed thanks, and I saw him tilt his head, frowning his perfect lips. Beautiful.

"Um, maybe I should get you some ice; your head is…starting to swell." Oh god. My cheeks burned with embarrassment as I pointed him to the freezer in the back. I watched him fill a bag with ice, and gingerly place it on my forehead, his brow wrinkled in concern.

"Thanks," I muttered, embarrassed. I looked out the window to avoid his eyes. "Is the swelling really that bad?"

He pulled a face, clearly trying to stifle his amusement.

"No, no, it's fine, the bump is really only the size of a golf ball, it could be quite worse." He smirked at me, a playful look in his eye.

I tried to pry my glance away from his perfect face as I went to put away the cups that had been knocked over when I had fallen. I watched as he rounded the corner, taking a seat at the counter bar. We were silent like that for several minutes as I tried to clean up the disarray that was the kitchen. I caught the reflection of my forehead in a mirror and I winced as I noticed the largely conspicuous lump that was forming on my head. This day was just a string of embarassments. I heard the ring of the "service bell" on the counter, and I spun around, a look of annoyance flashing in my eye.

"You know, that is really only for when the cashier is busy" I said with a pronounced edge to my voice.

"Oh, I'd just really rather like a coffee now, I assume I've earned one for saving you from yourself just now." His mouth spread in to a cocky smile.

I stared at him with disbelief, my mouth agape. I began to laugh, betraying my feigned annoyance, and I walked to grab a mug from the back. It was impossible to be annoyed with someone so beautiful. When I returned, he seemed lost in thought, his brow furrowed in to a concerned line.

"What'll it be then, sir?" a smile played on my lips. His gaze shifted from the window, and I felt my face getting hot as he stared in to my eyes a little too deeply.

"Well, what would you recommend ma'am?" He said as his beautiful angel's face spread in to a grin.

"Hm, well I do make a fine latte." I said with a wink. I stopped dead, rather shocked at my forwardness, and I turned away to grab the milk; cursing my body for not consulting my brain.

"That sounds perfect," he purred.

Even his voice was beautiful. I would have been quite content if it were the only sound I heard for the rest of my life. I shook my head, trying to rattle the ensuing fantasies out of my mind as I steamed the milk for his drink. I snuck a glance in his direction to see his eyes transfixed on the piano in the middle of the shop.

"Do you play?" I asked, curiosity burning in my voice. I wanted to know everything about this mysteriously beautiful stranger who had burst in to my life.

His eyes slowly melted away from the piano to meet my gaze. "Pardon me?"

"Oh, I just wondered if you play." His brow furrowed. "Piano I mean. Do you play?"

Realization spread across his face in waves "Oh yeah, well, I just dabble in it really." He smiled lightly as he spoke. "I'm really not very good or anything." He shrugged and turned back to looking at the piano as I poured espresso in to his cup.

"Would you play for me?" I asked, the words falling from my mouth. I wondered if this was too forward? The part of my brain that controlled verbal activity seemed to be malfunctioning in his prescense.

"Perhaps after my coffee" a polite smile stretched across his face, not reaching his eyes.

I turned back to the counter and began wiping at the milk I had spilt. We were comfortably silent for several minutes, and my mind began to wander away from the room. I heard him take several sips of his coffee, and then the disctint "clink" of his cup meeting the saucer.

"So," I heard him say, "What do you do?"

Confusion coloured my face. "What do you mean what do I do?"

He steepled his fingers together, staring at a spot on the counter. "You know, what do you do for fun. What do you enjoy?"

I stared at him, dumbfounded. What did he care what I do? I fiddled with the cloth nervously, picking at frayed threads. "Well.....um... I really like nature. Birds, trees, that sort of thing.....I really like birds." I said, a little to eagerly, becomming embarassed as he gave me a strange look I couldn't decipher.

"You like....birds?" he grinned. This had clearly not been an answer he was anticipating.

"Well yeah." I stammered, embarassed I had said anything at all. "I like to go hiking. I really like being around nature." I stared at the floor. "I'm a forest biology major."

I felt him stare at me for a moment, my cheeks began to burn as I heard him let out a bellowing laugh.

"That is really very sweet." His smile made me melt, I thought I might fall over right there.

I smiled and turned around, trying to avoid his gaze, hoping my eyes didn't betray how ennamoured I was with him. I watched him stand up, coffee finished, and walk across the room. I thought he meant to leave, and my heart dropped through the floor. I didn't want him to leave. Not now. I watched him pad across the floor, pausing at the piano to sit down. Relief washed through me, and he began poking at a few keys.

"This piano is awfully out of tune." He said, grinning wickedly.

"I know, well, no one really plays it anymore." I shrugged, turning my back on his playful eyes.

He nodded in understanding as his eyes shifted back to the piano. I saw them close as his hands felt at the keys. He began playing Debussy's Clair de Lune, my favourite piece of classical music. His brow wrinkled in concentration as his hands trembled over the keys, playing them as delicately as if they were made of glass. My head swam in the familiar song, losing all thought as I became entranced. I felt myself slipping away to another time and place; my mind fluttering around familiar childhood memories. It had been my mother's favourite song. His fingers portrayed a sense of urgency as I watched his eyes knit together. He sighed and stopped playing abruptly, breaking me from the music's spell. My eyes flew open and my mouth fell to protest, but the look on his face made me bite my tongue. I stared at him inquisitively, trying to ask with my eyes what was wrong.

"I can't remember anymore," he said, sadness colouring his voice. I watched him turn to stare out the window distractedly, sunshine dappling on his face.

"Clair de Lune is great." I answered softly, lost in his eyes.

"You like Debussy?" he asked interestedly, his eyes burning with a strange intensity as he returned to sit at the counter bar.

"Yeah of course, I really love classical music." I smiled, mentally trying to smooth the traces of worry from his face.

His lips drew in to a small smile. "Me too."

God I loved when he smiled. I watched as he began to fiddle absentmindedly with his sleeve; I could tell his thoughts were far away from the coffee shop.

"Is something wrong?" I asked quietly, unsure if he could even hear my voice, he was so many miles away.

Silence clouded the air for several minutes as I searched his face for some indication of what was wrong, but he remained blank and unanimated as his gaze shifted to the window.

"Do you mind if I smoke?" he asked suddenly, shaking his head as if to physically clear the thoughts.

"Not at all, it's not like anyone is here to protest." I smiled to myself. I had always loved the smell of cigarettes. They reminded me of Charlie.

He searched the pocket of his jacket, fingering the carton, and removing an almost-empty pack of marlboro reds. "Want one?" he asked, looking at me with clouded eyes.

I shook my head, knowing he had expected me to say no. "I shouldn't while I'm working." I added quickly, hoping he didn't think me rude.

He nodded his head and began fidgeting absentmindedly with a packet of sugar left by the bar.

I couldn't help but stare at his face, noting each rise and fall of his brow, each flicker of his eye; he was so beautiful. He looked up to catch my gaze, and I let my eyes linger just a second more on his perfect face before looking away, cheeks aflame. I wanted to say something, anything, just for the pleasure of hearing his beautiful voice respond. My mouth opened, and I could feel the words caught in my throat as I was interrupted by the ring of the door opening. I looked around to see Alice walking in, brown paper bag in hand, and an inquisitive look on her face.

"I've brought you your dinner Bells! Pasta pomodorro tonight." She said with an excitement in her eyes . Alice loved to cook.

Her gaze swept from me to the angel sitting at the counter bar. I saw her mouth fall in to a small "o" as she stood staring, baffled, at his beautiful face. He gave her a curt nod, turning back to the bar, and grabbing his discarded jacket.

"I really have to get home, I have prepwork to do for tommorows lecture." He said as he rolled his green eyes lazily. "But I'd very much like to see you tommorow....... will you be there?" His mouth spread in to the most breathtaking half-smile I'd ever seen. I all but fainted as I nodded weakly, trying to smile and hoping it didn't come out as a grimace. I watched as he threw his coat over his arm, and walked gracefully toward the door; shooting Alice a grin as he left.

I heard the familiar jingle of the bell as the door closed, and I looked back to see a very shocked Alice, wearing an expression I couldnt quite decipher.

"I see you have met Edward Cullen." She smirked.

"That's Edward?" I choked out. My mind flew in to a frenzy of understanding as I stood breathless in front of Alice. I turned towards the window only to see his retreating figure; a perfect black sillhouette against the setting of the sun. That's Edward Cullen.