Theme #26- Frozen Moment At First Sight...for the 30 Nights community on livejournal. I thought I would go ahead and post it here, and just let you all get a peek at it, too! Also, if you have a livejournal account, I encourage you to join twilight(down slash)fics. It's still rather small, but I'm sure that with you all making contributions and such to it, it'll be a great success. I'll continue to add my pieces as they get done. Sadly, I don't know how long they will take, but I do hope to finish my claim as soon as possible and keep you all waiting for as little amount of time as I can manage. Now, on with the show!

Disclaimer: Twilight and all of it's characters are owned by Stephenie Meyer.

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Bravery

I strongly believe that on days like this -bright, warm and with a clear blue sky that stretched endlessly into the beyond- she furtively enjoyed revering me of her usual curiosity. On days lacking the usual monotony of the expansive sky above Forks we came out to the field we had silently claimed as our own. In the beginning I declared to myself that I would never regret the day I brought her to my sacred place but in recent rendezvouses I've seemed to find myself regretting my declaration and bringing her here.

She was oddly sedate as we laid to together, her fingers tracing over light veins and invisible lines on my arms while I rested on my back basking in the warmth of both the sun and her caress. Her voice was far too euphonious to not be missed during these sessions and though I tried my damnedest to get her to fall into her usual inquisitive demeanor but all tries failed. After only a few quiet visits I became shockingly penurious for her nondescript behavior; curious, tranquil, mercurial, slightly enigmatic, they were all an integral part of my day. Without them making an appearance at least once, my day could be described as anti-climatic at best and though her company and quelling caress were a gift from a very powerful outside source, they weren't quite what made my day worth living. I needed for her to be her and show her soul.

I am an abstemious creature, but only to a certain degree. I can deny myself human blood, the very thing my body and mind crave for but I can not -and would prefer not to- deny myself of her. Sadly, her lack of speech is torturing me.

As I lay there, contemplating a way of getting her to speak, question, wonder aloud as she usually did, she stiffened and let her hand drop away from my arm. My thoughts scattered quickly before joining once again to focus solely on her.

"What is that?" She questioned, her voice soft and full of child-like curiosity.

I turned to gaze at the patch of land where her eyes were focused so intensely. I saw nothing queer in the area, though. It was the same as every other area of the field, varying shades of green between vibrant shades of pinks, blues, reds, yellows and oranges. "What are you talking about, Bella?"

She continued to stare as she lifted her slight arm to point at the same patch of land I'd been looking at previously, "That. See it?"

I looked once again to note that nothing was out of the ordinary. She seemed to pick up on my lack of knowledge and pulled at my arm as a sign to get up so that she may show me. I stood, as she wanted and let her guide me to the area. Her hand was soft and warm around mine and tightened more and more as we stepped closer.

What, I wondered, could have her in such a state of wonder?

I knew what she was talking about as soon as we stepped into the area and questioned aloud how in the world she had seen such a thing from so far away.

Her brown eyes glanced up at me before offering the rushed response of, "It stands out. Now, what is it?"

However, the flower did not stand out in the slightest. The blooms were of a light shade of orange, their centers a darker shade of pink and were not special-looking in the slightest compared to the others in the field. The leaves were a dark green, depressingly-looking when surrounded by the bright green leaves of others and was low-laying on the ground but I responded nonetheless, "It's scarlet pimpernel, somtimes referred to as poor man's weather-glass."

Her look was befuddled and I smiled, "It closes when it rains and when it's cloudy much like morning-glories close after sunrise."

"Oh, I've never seen it before," she said, bending low to pick up a loose flower and examine it, "I know most of the flowers I've seen here and or have at least seen them elsewhere, but not this one."

"It's European, odd to find it in the States," I responded, bending down to rest beside her as she rested back on her haunches to exclaim the whole plant, "and considered to be a weed, though a flower as picky as this one should defiantly be something worth value."

She only glanced up at me before turning back to plant in her hands, "Picky?"

"Yes. They're rarely ever open, when it's too hot, too wet, too cloudy or too damp they stay shut and even on days where it's perfect -like today- they're only open from 8 AM to 3 PM."

"You know a lot about them, don't you?" She smiled as she stood, watching me to bright, entertained eyes.

I didn't know much about them, to be honest, but I was sure to make what little I did know go a long way. I'd pulled small bits of information an older woman had given me about the plant years ago when I'd visited Europe with Carlise on a short trip. She'd be excited to show me her garden and paused for only a moment -gazing up at me with warm, understanding eyes as if she knew what I was- before grabbing my hand without warning and despite the un-natural coldness she kept her grasp firm as she guided me through the greenery. Perhaps that was the reason I remember the day so well. Such an old, fragile woman had not at all intimidated by my anomalous look and behavior and she had been the first to treat me as a normal human being since my change. I'd drawn the memory out to offer Bella answers so that she may continue to be inquisitive like she usually was, to keep her talking for as long as I could so that her melodious voice spoken softly over the sound of the feathery breeze.

And before I answered, I silently thanked the old woman for her bravery and perhaps for her silent knowledge and warm accepting of my kind but more than anything, for unconsciously bringing my Bella back to me, "Yes, you could say that..."