As always, Stephenie Meyer is owner and reaper of all benefits Twilight.

silentnc and Sarahsumbrella - betas extraordinary - thanks for the comments, suggestions and encouragement.


CHAPTER EIGHT: How Brilliant Are Your Eyes

I spent most of the afternoon thinking – which wasn't unusual for me – not only about what Carlisle had said, but also Bella's impact on me since the first instant I saw her in the café on that fateful day. I thought about the future, something I typically avoided at all costs, and what I wanted. I thought about what I could realistically expect.

And that depressed me so much that I resolved to stop thinking for once. I decided to indulge in her presence and let my decisions come as they may. It was a stunning departure from my usual method of operation, but I literally had no idea what else to do. The compulsion to have her near was just simply too much to deny in my confused and disheartened state. I walked, my melancholy thoughts following me, to where I knew her final class of the day was held. I waited, standing like a crazy vampire stalker in the rain.

My spirits lifted and my doubts were washed away when her face lit up upon seeing me waiting for her. She moved swiftly through the rush of students to stand before me with a shy but happy smile.

"Hi," she said, and then frowned. She reached up to brush my dripping hair. "Why are you standing in the rain?"

I had to touch her. I settled the hood of the rain jacket closer around her face and let my fingers trail over her shoulder and down her arm over her wet jacket.

"I wanted to see you," I admitted softly. I saw the bright, happy smile return to her face before she ducked her head.

"Oh."

"Is that weird?" I asked worriedly. She shook her head and lifted her face, biting her lip. "I thought maybe you'd like to come over to my flat. You know…hang out…" I finished lamely and shook my head with a frustrated laugh. "God, I sound like an idiot."

"No. I'd like that," she said, taking my arm.

"Are you hungry? We could stop and get something to eat, if you'd prefer," I told her as we walked down the street.

"Do you have coffee at your place?"

"Yes." I'd seen Jacob drinking the beverage just the other morning. I was sure I could figure out how to work the coffee pot – I had a couple of engineering degrees, after all.

"I'd love to hang at your place," she assured me. "At least it's warm and cozy." She shivered. "It's a crappy day."

I hesitantly slid my arm around her shoulders, and she leaned into my side as I hailed a cab to take us to my flat.

X-X-X-X-X

It was a surprisingly comfortable silence in the apartment as Bella sat curled up on the sofa, reading. I sat at the desk just behind her with innocuous business documents from Volturi, Inc. spread out on the surface. It was quite peaceably domestic, just another couple enjoying a rainy afternoon together. My mouth twisted wryly. This was as far from a typical human situation as I could imagine, what with one of us not being human at all.

Every once in a while I could hear her turn her head and feel her eyes on me, but when I would lift my head to check on her, she would quickly move her attention back to her book. I realized I had not heard her turn a page in quite some time. It was still bewildering to me that I couldn't hear her thoughts, and I wondered what her clever mind was contemplating. It certainly wasn't Jane Austen.

I felt her eyes on me yet again. I met her gaze with a raised brow, smiling faintly as a blush covered her cheeks. Her charming blushes never failed to cause a rush of desire to ripple through me. She didn't look away this time, so I turned in my chair to face her.

"Can I ask you a question, Edward?" she asked softly, a slight frown crossing her features when she realized she had my full attention.

"Of course," I allowed. The damnable curiosity I so often felt in her presence back in full force.

"I was wondering…that is…do you…do you wear contacts?" She was looking at me intently, but I could not prevent the startled recoil of my body.

"Contacts?" I repeated slowly, leaning back in my chair while my mind tried to fathom what she could possibly be thinking. "Why?"

She rose up on her knees, putting her book down and resting her arms on the back of the sofa to peer at me. "Well, your eyes. I can tell that's not your natural color. It's too…different. Kind of fake. Pretty, though. But you just don't seem like the type," she added thoughtfully, her gaze never leaving mine.

"The type?" I was reduced to dumbly repeating her words. Dangerous creature.

"I just don't see you as being vain enough to want to improve your eye color." Her eyes moved to my hair, and I absently ran my hand through it. She smiled. "I mean, if you were that concerned about your appearance, you'd do something about that, first." She nodded meaningfully at the crazy, colorful mess on my head.

"Bella…" I had no idea what to say.

"Edward," she teased, imitating my tone and getting up to walk around the sofa. She approached me slowly and sank down on the floor next to where I sat in my chair, on her knees, resting back on her heels. I held my breath. The yearning that the scent of her blood caused was not the only desire coursing through me at her position. She was so close, so warm, and smelled so good. She hesitantly reached out and touched the back of my hand. I turned it in her loose grip against my better judgment, and she squeezed gently. A strangely satisfied look crossed her face.

"Edward, do you trust me?" she asked softly, her eyes going from our clasped hands to my face.

"Um, I think so?" It came out very unsure, as she had me reeling. No creature, human or otherwise, had ever made me feel this way. I felt like I had just been shoved head first down the rabbit hole. She could do that to me with a look. It was terrifying.

"If I asked you something, would you tell me the truth? No matter what?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly. I still had enough wits about me to not put myself into a position that might endanger us both.

Her fingers stroked my hand, and her gaze left mine to focus somewhere around the center of my chest. I stupidly looked down to make sure I was completely dressed, or at least that I had remembered to button up my shirt properly.

"Edward." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "What color are your eyes?"

I stiffened sharply and sucked in air, snapped utterly and completely out of my stupor. Her hand tightened on mine as I fought my shock and my mind tried to rationalize her question. It had to be simple curiosity about my physical attributes. I was overreacting. There was absolutely no way she could possibly –

"Are they gold, Edward?" Her voice was even softer, and she still stared determinedly at my chest. "Or are they…red?" The last word was barely a breath, but it had the effect of a nuclear bomb.

I was on my feet and on the other side of the sofa before I had realized I meant to move. I had knocked her back with the suddenness and violence of my action. I was so disconcerted that I couldn't move any closer to her, or even open my mouth to ask if I had hurt her. She was on her back on the thick carpet, her knees up in front of her and her arms braced behind her, staring at me with no surprise or shock on her face.

How was this possible? My entire being was absolutely still in astonishment.

"What are you talking about, Bella?" I finally asked in a menacing tone, still not able to look directly at her, or move anywhere near her. My primitive instincts were very close to the surface after her horrifying query. Fight or flight – no choice there, I was definitely programmed to fight. And win.

At her silence I risked a glance, and saw her staring at me intently from her position on the floor, one eyebrow arched. "It's a simple question," she said, sounding as calm as if we were discussing the weather. "Gold or red?"

I flashed to her, suddenly appearing before her, kneeling, my face only inches from hers. I dared not take a breath. Other than moving her head slightly back so she could keep eye contact, she barely flinched. It infuriated me. "How do you know to ask such a question?" I hissed.

She stared into my eyes, searching, and her hand came up slowly, so slowly, to touch my face. We both gasped when she made contact, and she laid the flat of her palm against my cheek. "Your mannerisms. You never eat or drink in front of me. You're very fast – your movements are so graceful and fluid." Her cheeks tinted red, but she didn't look away. "Your skin is so hard and smooth. Cold," she said quietly. She closed her eyes, leaning in the slightest bit toward me and inhaling deeply. "Your smell." Her eyes opened, a little less focused on mine. She smiled shakily, showing the first sign of uncertainty, and for some reason it calmed me instantly.

"What about them, Bella," I growled softly, but it wasn't really a question. She simply looked at me.

"They remind me." She swallowed, and I could see the question and pleading in her gaze. For what, I had no idea. "They remind me of…Phil. Edward, Phil was a vampire, too."

I collapsed back to sit on the floor with a whoosh of air. For the first time in my memory, I had no strength in my legs. This was bad. This was really bad. This was cataclysmically bad. I put my elbows on my knees and buried my hands in my hair. I had absolutely no fucking idea what to do.

I could not pretend I didn't know exactly who she was talking about – or what. I couldn't ignore the fact that she had just signed her own death warrant, and I was the executioner.