A/N - written quickly. I apologize for grammar fails I missed.

There was definitely something Edward was hiding from me, but I couldn't bring myself to ask what; I knew the answer could destroy everything.

So I exercised my right to maintain willful ignorance.

Blissful, blissful hope and stupidity borne out of desire put a skip in my step as I walked across campus toward Edward's studio. The view at UBC was incredible. From nearly every vantage point there was natural beauty: snow-capped mountains, ocean, trees. It was hard sometimes to watch where I was going.

I nearly missed the turn-off to Edward's studio. The map crumpled in my hand, and I shoved it inside my backpack.

The old building he worked in had an industrial feel to it, with high ceilings exposing pipes overhead and unfinished floors underfoot. I didn't tend to notice architectural details like that... I guess I was nervous, fixating on the mundane to avoid eye-contact with the other students.

I had a reputation for being unfriendly. It was difficult for me to explain to my classmates I wasn't ignoring them, I simply didn't recognize them. Big egos tended to be offended by such things.

It occurred to me that if Edward dyed his hair, I'd probably walk right past him. The thought sent a shock of panic through my body.

"Excuse me!" I called out to a guy with blond hair. "I'm looking for Edward Cullen. Do you know him?"

"Sure." Blond-guy tied a white, paint-stained smock around his waist and stared at me with narrowed, suspicious eyes. "Who wants to know?"

"Bella." I turned away from him, scanning the open area for Edward's blatant hair.

"Yeah... I know you," the guy said. "Crooked Smile."

"Excuse me?" I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth. It had a habit of jutting out too far in a perpetual pout thanks to my messed-up jaw.

"You're Crooked Smile." He pointed to the far wall of the workspace where huge canvas hung - a portrait of a girl. My knees knocked as I stared at the charcoal lines of the girl's face.

"That's not me."

"Of course it is! Look at her mouth; the way it quirks to the left just like yours. And the eyes-"

"I can't see it!" I screamed, feeling hot tears begin to well in my eyes. I blinked.

"Eli! Leave her alone." I heard Edward call from behind an easel. Furtively, I wiped the tears with my sleeves before they could spill down my cheek.

"I'm sorry," I muttered, covering my crooked mouth with my hand. "I just... I don't see things the same way you do."

"Of course not." Eli laughed. "I'm an artist."

Edward rushed over and placed his hand on my back, ushering me away.

"Dude!" Eli yelled. "You better not let Tanya see that portrait. Or the girl who inspired it, for that matter."

Edward's brow crumbled. "Hey, let's get out of here, okay?"

I nodded. "I didn't mean to barge in. I- I just wanted to see some of your work."

"Another day, okay? I'm starving. Let's get some sushi."

"Okay." I reached for his hand, but he pulled away from me like my skin would burn him.

"Sorry. I practically need turpentine to get these pigments off my skin. Trust me, you don't want to get any of this shit on your hand."

Eli watched as we left the room.

"Edward?" I asked, nearly tripping as I tried to keep up with his uncharacteristic speed-walking.

"Yeah?"

"Who's Tanya?"

He ran his (paint-stained) fingers through his hair almost violently, creating tufts. "My first girlfriend."

"Oh." I stopped running to keep up with him.

"Are you coming?" he called when he noticed I was no longer beside him.

I shook my head. "I don't think I'm very hungry."