Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, nor do I make money off writing about them. If I owned them, the books and movies would not be appropriate for people under 18, just like this story - consider yourself warned. This plot, however, is mine – no fiddling with it without my express permission.


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Cotton candy, joy and light. I took notice of the gleeful energy in the air, but didn't spend time analyzing it. Instead, I jumped out of bed and rushed to turn off my alarm. Saturday was always the longest day of any carnival, and today would be no different.

Though the sun had technically risen, the light outside was barely filtering over the surrounding hillsides. It was still relatively cool this early in the morning. I planned to take advantage of that fact and get a long run in before I had to head over to the grounds for work. I needed to check the gray water supply and restock the booth before the gates opened at eleven.

I brushed my hair quickly and clipped it into my customary twist as I rushed to find clothing. Once I was dressed in my favorite running outfit - black stretchy shorts, bright yellow tank, Nike shocks and an iPod armband - I selected my Run for the Hills playlist and began stretching my legs and back.

Fanfare for the Common Man flowed through my earbuds. I breathed in deeply and worked through my regular warm-up ritual, stretching and pulling my limbs in preparation. Running and pushing my body to its limits relaxed me. It allowed me to pull my senses inward instead of focusing on all of the external stimulation I dealt with when I interacted with people.

As the song switched to El Salón México, I exited the trailer and ran slowly between the other vehicles. I headed for a small road about a quarter mile down the main highway that seemed to lead into the hills to the east. The idea of running up and down hills, pushing my legs harder than I could on level ground, made me excited for a challenge. I picked up my pace.

I kept the volume on my iPod low as I ran down the shoulder of the highway, wanting to hear any oncoming traffic to be safe. As I reached the dirt road, I turned the volume up. I increased my pace once more, freeing my mind to float from thought to thought as I gave myself over to the purely physical act of putting one foot in front of the other. My heart pumped and my breathing sped as I pushed myself harder up the incline. A Lincoln Portrait began to play in my ears, and my relatively empty mind suddenly focused on one thing…Edward. My fíorghrá. Just thinking his name brought a smile to my lips, and the memories of the previous evening filled my mind.

He tried to act casual, making small talk with Alice and me, but I could tell he was a bit nervous. He kept bouncing his leg and tapping his fingers on the tabletop. The three of us talked at length, laughing and joking easily with each other. We didn't really touch on anything personal other than the absolute basics. Instead, we spent most of our time swapping stories of our adventures with a younger Alice. Edward's stories of her as a child kept me in stitches. I made sure he knew all about the misadventures of her teenage years.

It was well past midnight when Edward finally excused himself to go to bed, his early morning and long drive wearing on him. He lightly rubbed his finger in an arc on the back of my hand and whispered, "Good night, Bella," before he strolled away in the direction of the camp. Alice had me pinned before he was halfway across the pavilion.

"So Bella, how do you feel about my cousin?" she asked. Her face twitched as she tried not to smile at me. I narrowed my eyes and gave her a defiant stare.

"I'm guessing you already know my answer to that question. How about you share whatever visions you'vehad about us, you evil little gnome."

Alice snorted and laughed, loudly. "You can try to glare at me all you want, my dear, but you can't fool me," she said. "I see that smile trying to break through. You and I both know he's your fíorghrá. Now tell me, how do you feel about my cousin, Bella?"

I tried to hold my glare, I really did, but my heart was positively singing at just the thought of Edward. The joy broke me.

"Alice, it's like…he's a piece of me that I didn't even realize was missing," I replied with a sigh. "I've been making my way through life, happily living day to day, thinking everything was as it should be. But now? Now there's this extra sensation in my chest that was never there before – taking up space – but it feels right. It makes me whole, even though I never knew I wasn't whole in the first place.

"The moment when I saw him there was no noise, no outside motion. It felt like the world could end right then and I wouldn't even notice. Then when we touched, oh God, it was as if someone turned the volume up full blast. The noises, the activity – yet I was still so focused on him that everything else was like static. It was like nothing and everything all at once. And there was this incredible pull toward him, like a string tied around my heart. It's like we're attached somehow, some invisible force holding us together, like-"

"Gravity," we said in unison. Alice held my gaze for a minute, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. She then smiled softly, leaning back on the table and looking at the stars above. After a moment, she began speaking again.

"I had the first vision of the two of you three weeks ago, right after he called my mom to tell her he was coming for the summer. I told Mom what I saw…what I knew you would mean to each other. She made me swear not to tell you. She was afraid if you knew, it would change the course of fate somehow. It hasn't been easy keeping something so monumental from you, but I didn't want to be the reason you two missed each other. I've had a few flashes since then, nothing too distinct, just enough to know things between you both will progress…in the way that they must." She whispered the last few words, and I thought I detected a touch of sadness in her voice. As much as this concerned me, I knew there was no use pushing her to explain further. Neither of us spoke as I took some time to digest what she told me.

"Thank you, Alice, for telling me now and not then," I said finally as I reached out to grab her hand.

We sat quietly under the clear Georgia night sky for several minutes before either of us spoke again.

"Alice," I questioned. "What do I do now?" My voice was small, quiet, as I asked aloud the one question that would not stop running through my head.

"Follow your heart, Bella," she said, with a wistfulness in her voice that made my heart ache for her. I wasn't the only one that had experienced loneliness in this life. "He knows about the concept of fíorghrás. My Aunt Elizabeth loves to tell the story of when she and my Uncle Edward met. Plus, he understands a bit about people with gifts like ours, because his mom has 'the sight'. I'm sure he felt the same pull as you did. Hell, I'd bet dollars to donuts he's on the phone with Aunt Elizabeth right now, telling her about you." She laughed at this, and I couldn't help but smile in return.

"Just take your time," she whispered. "I know you're' true loves' or 'soul mates' or 'red threads' or, as Mom says, 'fíorghrás.' Whatever term you choose, it all boils down to the same truth – you two are meant to be together. That doesn't mean you have to run off and marry him right now." I could practically hear her eyes roll as I scoffed at this.

"Get to know each other," she said. "Edward's had a really rough couple of years, and there are some things he'll have to tell you about it all. Just listen and learn…then throw him down and give him the ride of his life."

My eyes snapped to hers as she jumped up and ran away from the table, laughing all the way through the carnival grounds. I chuckled at her flippant comment but stayed seated, looking back to the stars overhead.

Listen and learn repeated in my head as I reached an overlook that provided a beautiful view of the little town below. The sun was finally beaming onto the fairgrounds, and I could see the carnies moving about, each starting the day in their own way. The scene was heartening, and I kind of felt as if I wanted to hug the whole world this morning…as ridiculous as that sounded. I giggled to myself, then turned and headed back down the hill, anxious to get to work.

As I ran into the camp, I slowed my pace to a little more than a jog and turned off my music. By the time I reached my trailer I had slowed to a walk. I took a few minutes to stretch so my legs wouldn't stiffen up during the day. I was bent at the waist, with my legs spread apart and my cheek almost touching my left shin, when I caught the scent of caramel and rain. The combination almost sent me tumbling face first to the ground.

"Morning, Bella. I didn't know you were a runner," Edward said from behind me. I peeked around my left leg as I finished stretching and gave him an upside down smile. Holding my position a little longer, I watched him covertly. His eyes were definitely not on my face, though whether they were on my ass or just some random spot on the ground near me was too hard to determine from this angle.

"Good morning to you, too, Edward. What's got you up and about so early?" I asked, straightening and turning to face him. I moved my arms to clasp my hands behind me, arching my back as I pulled my shoulders down. Edward's eyes followed my movements, and I almost giggled as his mouth dropped open just a little. This sports bra pushed my breasts up and in and gave me great cleavage. By the way Edward's eyes were locked on my chest, I was pretty sure he noticed that. When he didn't reply to my question after a few seconds I stopped stretching and tried again.

"Edward," I said, and his eyes moved to meet mine. "I asked, what's got you up and about so early?" I smiled broadly at him, hoping he wouldn't feel too uncomfortable for getting caught checking me out. I really didn't mind in the least.

"Oh, uh…" His eyes darted down to my breasts and then back to my face. He brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck as he said, "I was just walking around the lot. I wanted to get a lay of the land before the carnival opens for the day."

I watched his eyes scan the area around us. I wondered what this must look like to him – a hodgepodge of trailers, campers, motor homes and trucks, some showing their age, others obviously new and shining, with various pieces of lawn furniture littered throughout. It's rare that outsiders ended up in this area. I couldn't really remember a time when I worried about what these sights made people think of us. I was attempting to see this scene through Edward's eyes when he turned and smiled at me again.

"Is this your camper?" he asked.

"Yes…no. Well, shit," I stammered and laughed at the way my brain stopped functioning around this beautiful man.

When I met Edward last night, I thought I had a clear picture of what he looked like. Now, in the full light of day, I could see all of the little details that I had missed. He was tall, well over six feet, and muscular but not stocky. I would guess he was a little older than I was, maybe in his early-twenties though he could pass for younger. His hair, which I thought was brown, was actually a deep, dark red, curling in such a way that it gave him a purposefully rumpled appearance. I couldn't tell whether the look was natural or something he spent time getting just right in front of the mirror every day. Long, thick lashes that reached almost to his eyebrows framed his intensely green eyes. I saw some kind of spider-web like lines, perhaps scars, on the right side of his face, but they were light and hardly noticeable. He had a few freckles scattered on his cheeks, accentuating his high cheekbones, and his smile was wide and bright.

He was wearing a light blue t-shirt, which was a bit snug across his chest. His gray cargo pants clung to his hips and flared slightly as they continued down his legs. He projected a quiet confidence, but something in the way he held his body reminded me of how shy I was before coming to the carnival all those years ago.

He smiled at me as I finished ogling him and my eyes met his. I turned away, hooking my thumb in the direction of my trailer to hide the embarrassment I was sure showed on my face.

"This hunk of metal is mine, but it's not a camper, it's a travel trailer," I replied, turning back to meet his eyes as he regarded me curiously.

"What's the difference?" he asked.

"Campers usually fold; they're referred to as pop-ups a lot. Travel trailers are towable, like campers, but they don't fold down," I informed him, hating the fact that I sounded like some kind of RV salesperson.

"Huh, I guess you learn something new every day," he replied, leaning against the side of my truck with his hands behind him. "So what made you choose this over something like one of these other…things?" He waved his hand around to indicate the different types of vehicles surrounding us. We both smiled at his obvious lack of knowledge regarding mobile-living options. I leaned back against my trailer and pushed my legs out in front of me, crossing them at the ankles.

"Well, I definitely wanted something towable instead of a drivable model," I replied, relieved that I was already feeling more comfortable around him. "This way, once I'm all set up, if I want to head into town or get away from the carnival, I can take my truck without disturbing the trailer. The guy that used to own my booth also owned this truck and trailer. He bought both brand new and only had them for about six months when he met his fíorghrá at one of our stops. She didn't want to leave her family for the life of a carnie, so he sold me everything and settled down with her."

I couldn't help but notice Edward's head pop up a bit when I mentioned the term fíorghrá. Alice's words from last night came back to me - he had definitely heard the term before. I held his gaze as he stared back at me, confident that he felt the same delightful pull on his chest that I did, as we stood a few feet apart and chatted.

"Fíorghrá…either you're Irish, or you've been spending a lot of time around Aunt Esme," he said, a small smile on his face, as he looked me over once more.

"Guilty of both," I laughed. "My grandparents all emigrated from Ireland in the late sixties. Plus, I really do spend a lot of time around Esme. She's practically a second mother to me. In fact, she home-schooled me through high school, along with a few of the other kids."

"Really?" he asked. "I had no idea she taught anyone but Alice. What was that like?" He seemed honestly curious. He tilted his head to the side and watched me as I flexed my sore ankles up and down. I probably should have stretched more before I stood still.

"It was great," I said. "Esme was tough but entertaining. She gave us a lot of latitude with the subjects we focused on. Alice and I both graduated about six months early and had no trouble with our state exams."

"What about you?" I asked. "What kind of high school did you go to?"

"Just a normal, suburban high school outside of Chicago," he replied with a shrug. Something about the way he said normal put me on edge, but I forced myself to relax. "Once I graduated, I went to college at Northwestern."

"Alice mentioned you had recently gotten a degree in Music Theory and Composition," I said. "So you're what, twenty-two now?"

"No, I just turned twenty-four about a week ago," he replied. "What about you? You're about the same, I assume."

"I'll be twenty-one in September," I answered. "My birthday is two days after Alice's. So did your program take extra time or something?"

"What?" he asked. He was so cute when he got that inquisitive look on his face. It made me want to run my finger over the furrow between his eyebrows.

"You graduated high school at eighteen, yes?" I asked. He nodded slowly, and I couldn't help but notice his eyes seemed a little wider than they had been a moment ago. "If you were eighteen when you finished high school, why did you-"

I was abruptly interrupted as a loud horn sounded from the direction of the carnival grounds.

"Oh crap, I'm going to be late," I said hurriedly, bouncing back and forth from one foot to the other. I took a couple of steps toward my trailer door as Edward looked in the direction of the grounds. "I'm sorry, but I really need to shower and then get to work. I have to restock my prizes before the gates open," I said as I reached the steps and grabbed the door handle. "Will you be around later today?" I asked suddenly, not willing just to watch him walk away.

"Yeah, sure. I'll, uh-" Edward began but I cut him off as I opened my door and stepped inside.

"I'll be at the Water Race game, toward the back of the midway. Stop by around one, and I'll take you to lunch…if you'd like," I replied, hoping he would take me up on my offer so I could spend more time with him. I knew I had him when he grinned widely at me as he stepped away from my truck.

"Of course, absolutely, I'll meet you there at one," he said, as he walked backwards, headed toward Esme's trailer. I grinned at him one last time before I shut the door and did a happy little jig on my way to the bathroom.

xXxXx

There was a crowd waiting to get in when the gates opened at eleven, which surprised every single carnie who saw it. We sometimes got a few early birds on Saturday mornings, but never before had there been a line of people like there was today. By noon, the midway was absolutely packed, and I was calculating how soon I would need to restock my prizes. I sent an email from my phone to my supplier so he could have extra stock on the next shipment, knowing this weekend would deplete my inventory.

At 12:30, I was bouncing on my toes as I searched the crowd every few seconds for my handsome ginger…who technically wasn't mine yet. I planned to rectify that situation as soon as possible.

At 12:42, I was checking the clock on my phone obsessively and panicking that he wasn't going to show.

At 12:54, I finally – finally – spotted that shock of bronze hair moving through the crowd toward my booth. Good god, the man could be a living, breathing advertisement for Irish gingers everywhere.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from him as he struggled to find a path through the crowd. At one point, he seemed to trip over something. I almost lost sight of him, but his head suddenly popped back up, and he moved forward once again. He was almost to the booth when his eyes met mine, and he gave me a heart-stopping smile. I couldn't hold back my grin as he stepped up to my counter.

"Hi," he said, still smiling. Still beautiful.

"Hi," I replied, a little breathlessly. "You made it."

"Of course! There's no place I'd rather be," he said, his eyes wandering over my face, as his smile grew even wider. I felt absolutely giddy at this point and was unable to hide it. He showed up! He was here, and I was going to take him to lunch and spend time getting to know him.

"Hey, gypsy-girl, you wanna take my money or are you just gonna stand there making goo-goo eyes at the Mick all day?"

My smile dropped and I whipped my head in the direction of the voice cutting through my Edward bubble. I had completely forgotten about the patrons lining up to play. The loud mouth was standing at the water gun closest to me. He was wearing cutoff jeans and a Budweiser tank top and had the longest mullet I'd seen in at least two years. His clothes were dirty, his hair was greasy and he looked like he was all bark and no bite. I decided he needed a little payback for his name-calling. I was all for giving great customer service, but even I had a few lines you just didn't cross.

"Allow me to apologize, sir. Please step right up – there's a winner every round," I yelled loud enough for all the patrons at the booth to hear. As Mullet McGee set his money on the counter, I put my hand over his and leaned toward him.

I looked him straight in his eyes as I whispered in the coldest voice I could muster. "You know, if my grandmother had overheard you call some nice young man such a nasty, mean-spirited name, she would have put a curse on you. Something like a 'flaccidity' curse for permanent loss of erection, or a 'defollication' curse, a fast one, that would remove all of your hair in one day." I ran my eyes purposefully up and down his body as his mouth fell open.

"Either one would work in a situation like this," I continued. "You just need to be standing relatively close to the person you want to put the curse on and whisper the words that have been passed down in my family for generations. I guess you're lucky it was only little ol' me standing here and not her." I patted his hand, not taking his money, before walking down the front of the booth. When I eventually got back to his game position, there was an elderly woman standing in his place. I collected her money, giggling to myself at how easy it was to make some people nervous.

I stood near Edward, noticing him giving me a questioning look, as I yelled for the round to begin. I didn't get the chance to ask him about it because at that moment, Phil came walking into the booth from behind me to cover while I was at lunch. I thanked him as I headed past, feeling my heart race at the thought of the upcoming hour with Edward.

I moved in the direction of the camp, away from the pavilion. Edward followed, giving me another one of those curious looks. I smiled up at him as I continued weaving my way through the people, waiting to get clear of the crowd so we could actually talk to each other.

"You look like you want to ask me something, Edward," I said as we finally moved around the last of the mob and headed toward the exit.

"I'm just wondering where you're taking me," he replied, smiling. "I thought most of the food booths were by the pavilion."

"Well yeah, the food booths are mostly up that way, but it's Saturday, which means Mama C is cooking over at the camp. You really haven't experienced carnie life until you've sat outside with a glass of sweet tea and a full plate of whatever she happens to be making that week," I replied, as we walked into the camp. We headed toward the back of the lot, where I knew the Copes had set up their mobile home.

Mrs. Cope, also known as Mama C, was the wife of one of the carnies. Her husband owned the Duck Game and the Basketball Toss. A couple of years ago, Mama decided to stop working the games, essentially retiring, but she still traveled with Mr. Cope all season. Every Saturday she set up her picnic tables, grills and smokers and cooked for the rest of the carnies, charging only a minimal fee to cover her expenses. Her menu changed depending on the location, but two things were constant – sweet tea and her luscious red velvet cupcakes. There had been fistfights between carnies over the last red velvet cupcake.

As we reached our destination, I directed Edward to a picnic table and yelled, "Feed me, Mama C, feed me!"

Mama C popped her head out one of the windows of her large mobile home and yelled, "Hold your damn horses, missy, before I make you go get me a switch!" I laughed loudly at her standard greeting and sat down across from Edward, enjoying his amused look. The sun was shining on his right side, and I once again noticed the web of scars on his face.

"How'd you get them?" I asked, mentally smacking myself for being so blunt.

"How'd I get what?" he asked in return, tilting his head and looking puzzled…and quite adorable.

I motioned to the side of my face as I replied, "The scars. I could see them when the sun was shining on your face earlier, and I was just curious as to how you ended up with them."

His face fell and he looked down at the table, nervously rubbing his thumb over his fingertips. I regretted asking such a personal question as soon as the words left my mouth. We hadn't even had a glass of tea yet, and I was already ruining lunch.

"I was in an accident…a car accident, a few years back. They're from the glass," he said quietly.

His eyes refused to meet mine. I couldn't help but think there was more to this story than just a car accident. I let it go because it was clearly making him uncomfortable, which was the last thing I wanted to do today. After all, I knew we would have more time for difficult conversations as we got to know each other better.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry," I said, as I reached my hand out to brush his fingers with mine. He raised his head, and his verdant eyes finally met mine just as Mama C came storming outside.

At just over five feet tall, yet well over 200 pounds, Mama C could be a bit intimidating, but the chubby, middle-aged redhead had a heart the size of Texas and could cook like no other. Moreover, she had a wicked sense of humor, which I was sure she was about to use against poor, unsuspecting Edward.

"Well, well, now. Who do we have here?" she asked, looking Edward up and down as she set two glasses of tea in front of us.

"Mama C, I would like you to meet Edward Masen, Esme's nephew. Edward, this beautiful woman is the world renowned Mama C. Don't insult her cooking, don't touch her ass, and you should get along just fine," I said as I tried not to laugh.

Edward froze, halfway between sitting and standing, as his eyes just about bugged out of his head. Mama and I got a good laugh at his expression and hunched over stance.

"I don't know, Bella. I'm thinking I may break my long-standing rule against ass-touching for this one." She winked at me as she headed over to the grill to make us a couple of plates. Edward's ears were a bit pink as he sat back down so I decided to go easy on him.

"If she's teasing you that means she likes you, and apparently she likes you on looks alone, so I think you're golden," I whispered, reaching out once more to touch my fingers to the back of his hand.

"I think that might have been the first time in my life that I was actually afraid of a woman. She looked at me like she wanted to tie me up and throw me in the back of her trailer," he whispered back, widening his eyes as if he were truly afraid.

"Oh, she probably does," I replied seriously. "But I doubt Mr. Cope would want another sex slave thrown into the mix." I was barely able to keep a straight face as I said this, and we both ended up laughing hysterically, tears streaming down our faces.

"I love your laugh," he said suddenly, as I tried to catch my breath. His gaze was too strong, too intense, and I felt my face heat up under the scrutiny. It seemed like there were miles in between us, so I got up slowly and moved to his side of the table, bumping my elbow against his as I sat on the bench next to him.

"I really love your laugh, too," I said, as my fingers moved to trace invisible symbols on the back of his hand once again.

xXxXx

After a lunch of pulled pork sandwiches, coleslaw, fried okra and sweet tea - lots and lots of sweet tea - I grabbed a cupcake for each of us and told Mama C to put the meals on my tab. As I headed back to the table, I noticed Edward rubbing his stomach and looking a little uncomfortable.

"Are you all right?" I asked as I reached the table. Edward looked up at me and gave me a small smile, his eyes sparkling in the sun.

"Yeah, I think I just ate too much," he replied. "My head kept telling my mouth to stop eating but the food was just so good. No wonder you didn't want to eat in the carnival." He stood as he said this, walking with me toward the grounds so I could return to work. I hated that our lunch was over. I liked him being near; it gave me a warm feeling in my chest as if someone was hugging my heart.

"What did you say to him?" he asked suddenly, distracting me from my thoughts.

"Huh? Who?" I asked, confused by his sudden change in topic.

"That guy at the game earlier," he explained. "The one who called you gypsy-girl. What did you say to him to make him leave so fast?"

"Oh, I told him my grandmother would have cursed him if she ever heard him call someone a Mick," I replied casually, dodging patrons as we made our way into the grounds. Name-calling was one thing I had definitely dealt with in my life. Normally I could let things roll off my back, but hearing someone insult Edward had caused the protective side of me to flare up. I was getting mad again just thinking about it.

"Thanks for the effort, but names that like don't bother me," he said. "I'm pretty used to it. I was more upset that the guy called you what he did. I wanted to say something to him about it, but whatever you said scared the hell out of him and he took off." I looked up and gave him a small smile as we arrived at my booth and headed toward the back entrance.

"Oh lord, being called a gypsy doesn't bother me a bit. I think of it as a term of endearment, not an insult," I explained. "And what do you mean by you're used to it? Did other kids pick on you because you're Irish?" I felt a flash of anger and curiosity roll over me as I pictured a young Edward being ridiculed for his red hair and freckles. I wanted to see some pictures of him as a child; I would bet he was the cutest little thing ever.

Edward snorted, almost in disgust, as he looked away from me. Whatever thought he had must have made him angry because his face was tight and his jaw was clenched.

"No, not because I'm Irish, Bella. Things were…difficult growing up," he replied, looking down at me. There was pain and anger in his eyes, and I again wondered what happened in his past to leave such physical and emotional scars.

I reached out slowly and took his hand in mine. I brought it to my chest and placed the back against my heart as the electricity between us surged. I had to close my eyes for a moment before I could meet his gaze once more.

"I won't ask you to tell me anything right now, but I hope that someday soon you will," I whispered and looked earnestly into his eyes. I wanted him to see how sincere I was about this.

"I would really like for us to learn to trust each other," I said, even quieter than before

Edward stared at me for a few seconds, his face only inches away from mine.

"I think I'd like that…a lot." He leaned toward me as his eyes moved to my lips. I stretched up onto my toes to meet him halfway. My eyes closed just before his lips brushed gently against my right cheek, an inch away from where I truly wanted them.

"Thank you for lunch, Bella. The food was wonderful but the company was extraordinary," he whispered, his cheek still resting against mine. His fingers flexed against my hand, squeezing just a bit tighter, and I gasped at the heat this simple action sent through my body.

"I hate to leave you, but I have a practice scheduled this afternoon, and then Esme needs me to take her to Chattanooga for some supplies," he said, sounding as sad as I felt about our impending separation.

"It's okay; I have to work until closing anyway. Do you think you'll be around tomorrow?" I asked, my body betraying my words as I gripped his hand tighter, holding onto him for dear life.

Edward just nodded and leaned in to kiss my forehead before he took a step back and released my hands. I missed his touch immediately - I'm not going to lie and say I didn't. I backed up, one step closer to my booth but that much farther away from him.

"Then I guess I'll see you around," I said, keeping my voice as calm as I could. It was quite a feat, really, considering I wanted to throw myself at him and demand he take me along.

"Tomorrow…I promise," he said. With one more smile, he turned and headed off into the crowd, leaving me in the shadows with my heart racing and my hands itching to touch him again. I'd never felt such pure joy in all my life, and I fully intended to hold onto the feeling as I stepped into the sunlight and got back to work.

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A couple of translations:

Giofógach translates to gypsy and is pronounced giih-foe-gahck (modern Irish would be Giofóg)

Fíorghrá translates to true love and is pronounced feer-guhraw