Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. You all knows who does.

Edward's Point of View

Bella and Emmett had sneaked off for the fighting lesson a few minutes after we'd gotten home form school. They went far enough that I couldn't read Emmett's mind, so I listened in on Alice's thoughts to see if she'd had any visions about what Bella and Emmett would do, but she was still clueless about the training Bella was giving Emmett – she hadn't seen anything about it. That was strange. Apparently, Alice was unable to see not only Bella, but also the people with her. I sighed, disappointed, and wondered what else I could do. I'd read my teachers' minds and picked out our homework assignments, so I'd finished everything is class.

I decided to talk to Carlisle. I walked to his office, where I could hear his thoughts coming from, and paused outside the oak door. I didn't knock – Carlisle had heard me coming. Come in, Edward, he thought, pleased that I'd come to talk to him. We hadn't had much time alone in the past few weeks.

I opened the door and stepped inside Carlisle's office, and sat down in one of the leather chairs in front of his desk. "How was your day?" I asked. "Anything interesting?"

Carlisle smiled and shook his head. Oh, Mr. Webber broke his arm when he fell off his roof while he was trying to fix a shingle. Nathan Marks has the flue. Other than that, it was a very slow day. I was able to come home early.

I nodded, remembering that Bella had said that Carlisle had let her read some of his books. "I heard Bella say that she read a few of your books earlier," I noted, hoping that Carlisle would elaborate. Anything was a possible way to learn more about her.

Carlisle nodded, a slightly awed look in his eyes. Yes – she walked past my office around one in the afternoon and stopped dead in the hall. Her eyes locked on my bookshelf, and I could see that she wanted to read them. There was this light in her eyes, a true hunger for knowledge – not unlike the light you had in your eyes for the first few years after I changed you. I offered to let her read my books, and right away she came in, picked one out, sat down in the chair you're sitting in, and started reading.

Carlisle didn't say anything else, just showed me his memory of the rest of the afternoon until my siblings and I came home. Bella had curled up in this chair and read quickly, occasionally asking a quiet question, and listening intently when Carlisle answered. "Do you have an interest in medicine?" Carlisle had asked. Bella had shaken her head. "No, not really," she'd replied. "But I might develop one, and, even if I don't, I would like to learn as much as I can about whatever I can." Her inquisitive spirit had endeared her to Carlisle. He liked her very much.

"How many books did she read?" I asked curiously.

Carlisle smiled. About twenty. I think she could have read faster, but I myself have often read slower than usual when I want to throughly absorb something. I nodded to myself, and added this new bit of information my store of knowledge about Bella – she loved to learn new things. Carlisle grinned suddenly.

"What?" I asked.

Carlisle's mind was filled with glad humor. Am I mistaken to think that you like her? he asked.

The implication was clear in his mind – when he said like her, he meant romantically. "Yes," I answered automatically. Then I frowned, remembering all the complex things Bella made me feel. "I think." Carlisle's grin widened, became jubilant. In his opinion, I'd been alone far too long. He was absolutely thrilled that I'd found someone I was attracted to after all these years. "Don't get carried away," I warned quickly. "I don't know what I'm feeling. Besides," I murmured, lowering my voice, my tone unintentionally sad, "she'll be leaving eventually, anyway."

Carlisle leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers, a secretive smile on his face. Maybe she won't – if you ask her to stay.

My jaw dropped. He couldn't be serious. What good would me asking her to stay possible do? She hardly seemed to favor me. "What?" I gasped.

She was asking about you this afternoon, just like you're asking about her, Carlisle replied mock-nonchalantly. She asked me when you'd joined my family, where you had come from, why I'd changed you. I didn't tell her, of course, he added hastily. I told her that was your personal story, and that if she wanted to know, she should ask you. She tried to make her questions seem inconspicuous by asking questions about everyone else, but there was always this special sparkle in her eyes when she asked about you. So, who knows? Maybe she is attracted to you as you are attracted to her.

I opened and closed my mouth, trying to figure out a good response to that, but I couldn't. As much as I wanted to believe that, I didn't dare hope. Besides, I was still trying to puzzle out my feelings toward her. I was in no shape to try to think about her feelings toward me – if there even were feelings toward me. "I barely know her," I stuttered. I don't know if I was arguing with myself, or my father.

Carlisle raised one eyebrow. Did I know Esme very well? he asked mildly. He knew he had me there. Did Emmett know Rosalie? Did Jasper know Alice? It is possible to look at someone and be immediately drawn to her. It is, in fact, incredibly common amongst our kind. I had seen Carlisle's first sight of Esme through Carlisle' eyes, had seen Rosalie through Emmett's dying, human ones, and had seen Jasper's memory of the first time he saw Alice. I knew that some people were just supposed to be together, and that sometimes they felt that pull when they looked at each other. But Bella and I, meant to be? That seemed impossible. I was attracted to her, but..... soul mates? That seemed to be taking it a little far. My mind ran in endless, answerless circles.

I shook my head. "I can't think," I whispered.

Carlisle leaned forward and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. I'll admit, your situation is different than the rest of ours were, he conceded. But think about it, son.

Oh, I would. There would be no avoiding it now that Carlisle had put the thought in my head. I chuckled weakly and rubbed my forehead. Then my head snapped up. Emmett was back within hearing range. Well, I'll learn a lot, that's for sure, he was thinking. That is, if I survive learning it. But it'll be worth it, though, he remembered dreamily. It'll be worth it to see the look on Jasper's face when I beat him.

So the lesson was over. I watched Emmett run over everything Bella had taught him in his mind, my eyes widening when he remembered her speed and skill. She knew what she was doing. She could probably kill us all if she wanted to – but I was sure she didn't, so I wasn't worried.

Edward? Carlisle asked silently. What is it?

I grinned broadly and stood. Emmett would surprise everyone – maybe even Alice. "You'll see in a few weeks," I called over my shoulder as I ran down the hall. As much as I loved my father figure, I wanted to be alone for a while so I could think. I ran until I was deep in the forest, where there was no one around, and subsequently, no foreign thoughts pouring into my mind. It was very peaceful and quiet. It felt odd, having only one voice – my voice – in my head. I felt almost normal. Or, as normal as a vampire can feel. I sighed softly, and started trying to make sense of the jumbled emotions I was experiencing.

I was in the middle of not having much luck with my task, when I heard the whispery sounds borne on the wind.

Bella's Point of View

I made it back to the house before Emmett – he might have been strong, but he was much slower than me. I went straight to my room because I didn't know where else to go. But I was restless. I couldn't sit still. I kept fidgeting, and soon I started to pace. I shook myself slightly and took a deep breath, trying to calm myself like Brian had taught me. Think of yourself as a pool of water, he'd suggested. The calmer you make that pool, the deeper you can see into it, but the more ripples there are, the harder it is to focus and see what needs to be seen. So I sat very still, breathing deeply, until I could pinpoint the source of my restlessness. Now that I was remembering how I'd been taught the things I was teaching Emmett, I was remembering other things from my life with my pride. I was remembering my childhood of being hissed at by two of the three other children my age, of being rejected by my mother, and being scorned by most of the other adults in the pride. They were hard, cruel memories – the tears I'd shed as a three year old who didn't understand why everyone hated me were vivid in my memory – and I needed something to balance the bad things. We lead bleak lives, Bella, my aunt Rachel – Brittany's mother – had told me once. We need a little brightness to ease the burden. A dark life without any bright spots will drive anyone insane.

What usually did that for me? That was an easy question to answer – music. But I didn't have any instruments available except the piano downstairs, and I didn't feel comfortable playing – though Edward had given me permission to play whenever I wanted – for all the Cullens to hear.

No, I didn't have any instruments small enough to take with me into the forest – but that didn't mean I couldn't make one. Brian, along with being the fighting instructor of our pride, was also an accomplished woodworker. In what little spare time he had, he could be found whittling or carving. He had taught me his craft.

I stood and dug around in my pack until I found my dagger, my tanto, and tucked it into the waistband of my jeans, then I slipped from the house and ran east along the river until I found a rock to sit on, and found a good branch from a nearby tree. I cut the twigs off the branch and cut it to the appropriate length. Then I stripped the bark from the it and carefully hollowed it out. Next I bored holes down the length of the slender branch, making sure they were the correct size and the right length apart. Then I turned the newly made flute I'd just made over in my hands, looking for any flaws, and, when I found none, lifted it to my lips and blew softly. I tested each of the holes for sound quality, made one a little larger, then played an Irish jig that always lifted my spirits.

I felt a little better, but not much. I frowned slightly, wondering why the music hadn't helped me this time. And then I remembered another thing my aunt Rachel – who had loved music more than anyone else I knew – had told me. When you play, play with emotion. I don't care which emotion you use, as long as there is emotion. Music is a language spoken directly to the heart. It expresses; it gives release. Without feeling, music is just noise with a rhythm. I'd just been playing by memory, without feeling the music.

So I took a deep breath, and felt. I looked into myself and saw what there was. And when I found the pain left behind by Sarah's recent death, I began to play again.

Edward's Point of View

I listened closer. It was music, I realized. A flute of some kind. Unconsciously, I got up and started to follow the sound. As it became clearer, I noticed the anguish this strange song held. It wandered through the air, as melancholy and disturbing as wind sighing through leaves. It was beautiful, in its terrible way. It rose, peaking with longing, and fell, crying in pain. I started to run – I needed to find whoever was playing this! But maybe, somewhere in my subconscious, I already knew, because when I peered through the trees ahead of me and saw Bella sitting on a boulder, eyes closed, face agonized, playing a flute, I wasn't surprised. She was so absorbed in the song she played that she didn't notice me. The song continued wistfully – like someone looking back on fond memories, and wishing they could go back. The last note didn't harmonize with the rest of the song – it was high and shrill, rising like a mournful wail, then cut off abruptly. But still, it fit perfectly – as though the song was too painful to continue playing.

I realized that I'd been holding my breath, and exhaled – which was a mistake. Bella whirled silently, sinking into a crouch. I backed up, holding my hands up in a calming gesture. Bella's eyes widened; she froze, and her face went paler than normal when she saw me. The hand that held the flute – which looked like she had whittled it herself – tightened until the flute broke into three pieces with a sharp crack. Bella didn't speak, but the look on her face said everything – she hadn't wanted anyone to hear that.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I was out thinking and I heard you playing – I didn't know." Bella still hadn't moved. I started to worry. "What was that?" I asked quietly.

Bella blinked and looked away from me. "It has no name," she answered, her voice harsh.

A theory started to form in my mind. "Who wrote it?" I asked. Bella didn't answer, which confirmed my suspicions – Bella had written it herself. Suddenly, I felt incredibly guilty. Bella had poured her heart into that song. Her emotions had been so clear. And there had been so much pain. "I'm sorry," I whispered again, meaning it more this time. Then, unable to help myself, I whispered, "What happened?"

Bella didn't answer for a long moment. I'd been convinced that she wasn't going to answer, and had turned to leave her alone, when her voice, barely audible even to my sensitive ears, came from behind me. "I lost someone," she breathed. I faced Bella again. She was sitting down on the boulder again, looking down at the river with her back to me.

Cautiously, I sat down beside her. My heart twisted when I saw the heartbreak in her eyes. "Who?" I asked gently.

She breathed out shakily. "Someone very precious to me," she replied, and stood and walked away. I let her leave – if she didn't want to tell me, then I wasn't going to push her. I would never push her. I remembered the look on her face, and felt a fierce pain in my chest in response. She was so broken! She'd hidden most of the pain she carried, but now I thought I could see the extent of it. At that moment, I was absolutely certain that I would have done anything to comfort her. Anything. Just to..... help her.

Which is about when I realized that I was beginning to fall for this broken, beautiful girl named Bella.