"We be all night,
And everything alright
No complaints from my body, so fluorescent under these lights."—Drunk In Love, Beyonce

"Sometimes, you need to run away just to see who will come after you."—Lisa Brooks

*Cleo*

I wasn't having a good time. Rose and Alice took turns dancing with their mates, and when one couple wasn't dancing, they were sitting with loner me at the table while I drank a perfect mixture of moonshine and Monster.

Drinking wasn't something I necessarily did often. Edward actually highly frowned upon it, though he did it more often than any of us. I guess it had something to do with the fact that I was under age.

I don't know. All I really knew was that I wanted to go home. I hated being here. I hated watching Edward talk to and hang out with Bella, watching him look so damn happy with her.

This wasn't right. It couldn't be. How could I let this happen? The war had just begun, and I was letting her win.

I groaned and let my head smack down on the table. "Kill me?"

"Nope," Rose said, popping the "p" with an annoying smile. "You can make it all better quite simply."

"It's anything but simple," I scoffed. "It's probably the hardest thing I'll ever do."

She rolled her eyes. "You act like it's you against the world when it's just you against yourself. Stop dreaming about what you want and act."

"I dream because there's no other way I can see it happen," I whispered, and Emmett's eyebrows rose with a bit of surprise. I didn't look into his sea blue eyes because I didn't want to know what he was thinking. Instead, I moved my eyes to my fingernails, which were different patterns with variations of red and black in the patterns.

Rose scoffed. "You aren't even trying! You want it? Fight for it."

I felt tears brimming on the edge of my eyes, and I took a deep breath to try and force them back. "I don't know what I want, but I don't want this."

Her eyebrows pulled together. "What do you mean?"

"All this pain I feel because of this," I said, and my eyes moved over to see him no longer paying attention to Bella. His eyes were on her, and she was talking, but he had a distant look. It was a look I knew well. He was either trying to read someone's mind, or he was trying to listen to our conversation and completely tuning her out.

Rose seemed to be delighted. "Oh? What is this?"

I scoffed and almost smiled. "Fuck you, Edward." I stood up then and walked out, not sure if he would follow me or even respond. I didn't really care, to be honest. What I wanted was to get out of there and get some fresh air, air Bella wasn't polluting with her backstabbing carbon dioxide.

And, of course, he did follow me, quite angrily, I might add. While he glared at me, I just smiled half-heartedly and kept my eyes on my feet.

"What have I done to you?" he asked, letting out a sigh. "I don't understand, at all. I'm sorry your sister got the wrong idea. I've straightened it out now."

"Why were you listening to us?" I asked, and I purposely showed no signs that I was even listening to what he said. "You turned her out completely and tried to listen to us. Why?"

He snorted. "Right. I forget that I'm not allowed to space out without spying on you."

I rolled my eyes. "You weren't spacing out, and don't even try to pretend like you were. Just answer me!"

"I can't!" he exclaimed, something that surprised me so much I had to look at him. Every part of me wanted to look directly into his eyes, but at the same time, I didn't know if it was right. Something was bothering him, too, and I knew it was. Yet he didn't want me to know.

I wanted to know so badly, but I was too scared to ask.

"I wish I could just ask you how you feel about me," I muttered, hoping he wouldn't hear. I knew he would, but I couldn't really stop myself from admitting that. The way he looked at me, the way I felt my non-beating heart pulling me towards him . . . I couldn't help but admit my fears.

Now, he was the one who looked speechless, mostly because I don't think he understood. He could've come up with a million different reasons why I wanted to know if there was more to this for him than friendship, but there was only one right one.

I wanted to know if his feelings matched mine.

To my surprise, though, he smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "Someday I'll tell you how I feel about you, and you might or might not feel the same way. There's a possibility you'll never speak to me again, but someday, I'll be able to tell you. Promise me one thing, though."

"Anything," I vowed, though I kind of wished that I hadn't. What was he saying? Was he saying that he didn't love me like I loved him? That he did love me like I loved him? Why wouldn't I speak to him?

His soft and warm lips pressed tenderly against my forehead, taking me to a new place I had never dared to go before. My body set on fire, and my heart felt like it would beat in my hunter state if it could. There was no hope of breathing, no hope of being like a normal person and responding in a normal way.

I was done for. He had never done this before, and it brought me to a place where I could only imagine what his lips on mine would feel like, a place where I could only wish he would let me see . . . .

"Don't try and read it out of my mind," he finally answered, and he gave me a soft smile when I looked confused. "I don't want you hearing bits and pieces, hearing something and taking it out of context and getting the wrong idea. I wanna tell you myself so there's nothing left out."

"Okay," I whispered, and I fought the urge to look into his eyes right then. Of course I wanted to look. I wanted to know, but I had just promised not to.

He sighed and rested his chin on the top of my head, reminding me that he was, in fact, a lot taller than me. "I should probably get back in there. I promise to stop trying to listen to your conversations."

"Thank you," I murmured.

He surprised me when he opened the door and stopped. I didn't know why he stopped, but when I started to ask, he quickly turned back to me with a lot of nervousness dancing in his eyes. "By the way, Cleo, happy Valentine's Day. I know this one kinda sucked, but I promise to make next year's amazing for you."

I didn't know how to respond to that, or even what to take of it, but when he quickly kissed my forehead again and disappeared back inside, I realized that it probably meant more than I would allow myself to believe.

Lesson of the day? Or maybe even the week. Guy friends are the bomb, the best to hang out with and be carefree with. Until you start to love him . . . then it's all awkward and tense from there.

Why did it have to be him?

Instead of going back inside, I left. I had driven separately for the purpose of being able to leave when I wanted, and I definitely wanted to leave. Going back in there meant having to face him and put on a face when I had no idea what face to put on. I had no idea how to feel about that because I didn't really know what he was saying. My mind was working in overdrive, and I was so confused that it hurt. It made me want to cry.

So running away seemed like the best option.

I drove home. No one was there, and I got to strip down in the middle of the living room. I got to kick off my heels and pull on a t-shirt from the dryer without even having to walk all the way back to my room. The house was pretty big, even though it was just a home away from home for all of us.

The less walking I had to do, the better.

As I said, I walked around the house in someone's t-shirt. Really, I didn't care whose it was. I just grabbed one out of the dryer, something loose enough that I could be in, could stop making my wings disappear in, and could even loosen them up a bit in, and I began looking for something to get my mind off of everything.

Moonshine and music? Okay.

Honestly, I wasn't sure how long I spent dancing around to the dance playlist Rose and I created in case we ever had a party here, but when the bottle of moonshine was gone, I just put it on the coffee table and opened up another. It was getting a bit hard to stand, and my vision was blurry, but it was fun. I was carefree. My mind was on anything but what it would've been if I was sober. As a matter of fact, even the tiniest things distracted me, so I was chasing around a piece of fuzz in the air while still dancing around.

And I don't remember what happened next.

*Edward*

I could hear the music playing before I even turned off my car, but I had no idea what was really going on. It intrigued me, so I got inside quickly and nearly exploded at the sight I saw. Cleo, dressed in my t-shirt and a sexy pair of panties . . . dancing around in circles like a little kid, yet still making me want to just carry her into my bedroom and make sweet love to her . . . was drunk. Beyond drunk. The moonshine bottle that was close to halfway full when I left was empty, and she was halfway through another. When she noticed my presence, she grew a giddy smile and waved at me, and all I could do was gawk at her.

"Hey there, gorgeous," she cooed, making everything inside of me twitch in anticipation. "Did you have fun with my sister? I don't like her."

Though I didn't mind her not liking her sister, her alcohol laced sentence irritated me. How many times had we talked about this? How many times had I asked her to wait until she was twenty-one?

Too many to count, but apparently not enough.

"What the hell, Cleo?" I practically growled at her, which only made her giggle. It just irritated me even more, but she didn't even notice. "Are you insane?"

"Come on, Edward," she laughed. The laugh was mixed with a hiccup, I think, and it made her frown while I just stood there, not sure what to do, think, or feel. I was angry that she was being so stupid. I was upset because I didn't know what made her so upset that she felt drinking was the only solution. I was happy because the love of my life was standing in front of me, looking adorable and too stinking cute for it to be right. I was horny because she was dressed in just my t-shirt and her panties. "You already know the answer to that question."

The first thing I decided to do was take the moonshine away from her. "Go to bed, Cleo."

She began pouting, which only made my heart ache more. This was too cute, and that look in her wide eyes, her wide pleading eyes, drove me insane. Honestly, I almost gave the alcohol right back to her.

Instead, I took a huge chug for myself and closed it back. "I'm serious, Cleo. March."

She giggled. "Why don't you take me to bed?"

I sighed. "I would love to, but you're drunk and would probably not like the outcome. Remember? You only mate once."

To my surprise, she just laughed again. "That's like the stupid yolo saying except mating instead of living. It's funny."

I rolled my eyes. "And you are not when drunk. Now, I'll walk you back there, but you go straight to sleep."

"I'm not tired," she whined, and to my delight and dismay all at the same time, she gave me a seductive smile while she began playing with the buttons on my shirt. "You should wear me out."

I scoffed. "And why should I do that? You should be tired enough, all the alcohol you drank and the dancing you've done."

"Because I love you, and I find you very attractive, and I want you to mate with no one else but me," she said, giving me the most normal smile I think she's ever given me. When I looked into her eyes, I saw pure love. I saw desire. I saw happiness, joy.

I saw drunkenness.

She giggled, out of nowhere, and turned to head back to her room. "You love me, too, and you wanna mate with me."

"Maybe so, but when you're sober, we might start talking about it," I said in a dismissive way, and I began heading into the kitchen to put the alcohol away. I was trying to drop the subject of mating so that she didn't talk me into it. It's not like it would've been hard to do . . . yet I had to say no. I had to resist the girl I hadn't managed to resist since the day I met her. I had to resist the one who made me feel alive.

The thing I wanted most, to mate with her and bond myself to her . . . that's what she was pleading with me to do, yet I had to say no.

She couldn't be forced into something she would probably never want sober.

When I looked at her, it was all I could do to even stand up right. She was in the process of taking the t-shirt off, and as I stated before, she didn't have on anything but the shirt and panties. So, of course, her fairly large breasts were exposed, leaving me hard while she giggled in satisfaction at the way, I'm sure, my eyes glowed with desire.

"You want me," she whispered, when words left me and my lips parted. I couldn't take my eyes off of her, even if I wanted to. I couldn't force myself to look away because how many times had I wanted to see this? My imagination didn't get it right. She was far more perfect than I imagined. Even with all the scars those bastards had made on her, all I saw was perfection, and despite their larger size, her breasts were quite perky.

I swallowed visibly when she began stepping closer, her wings making her appearance even more enticing as they spread all the way out, and she very carefully began unbuttoning my shirt. "C-Cl-Cle-Cleo, you should stop. We should stop. This . . . we shouldn't do this."

She smirked at me. "Something tells me you really want otherwise."

When the moonshine bottle slipped out of my hands and hit the floor, it gave me enough distraction on both of our parts to slip away from her and throw the t-shirt at her, my eyes pleading. "Come on, Cleo! Why are you making this so hard on me?"

"I can fix hard," she giggled, and to my complete surprise, she pinned me against the wall in a flash. I could feel my elbows and skull smashing into it, probably leaving dents, but when her lips met mine, I didn't care anymore.

Fuck it all. This was it.

Words couldn't really describe how great this felt. Just like my imagination didn't do her half naked body justice, it didn't do this justice either. Despite my previous denial, I had fantasized about her since I laid eyes on her. I used to feel bad about it, but she helped me realize that it wasn't so bad to fantasize about someone you love.

Well, I loved her alright, and the way this kiss felt just sort of sealed the deal. No matter how long it took, I was going to make her mine, or I was going to die of a broken heart. I couldn't just stay away from her. This kiss was like an explosion of the best feeling in the world, and in such a simple action that turned into more than something simple, everything was right. I wasn't scared. I wasn't worried. All I felt was pure love burning through me, and it was something I so desperately needed that, honestly, I couldn't have stopped it even if I wanted to.

I don't know what took over me, but instead of being pinned, I pinned her against the opposite wall, leaving dents on both sides. Passion consumed me and left me unable to do anything but cling to her, cling to the one thing in the world I cared about—the one thing I loved more than anything else.

It was natural, the way the kiss progressed. Some would argue love pushed us into the room. Some would argue lust did it.

Either way, she surprised me when she, once again, pushed me down on the bed and straddled me. It drove me crazy, especially when she bit down on her lip and oh so slowly leaned in to kiss me again.

I was growling when I leaned up to meet her halfway, hating the slow part. She would've laughed into the kiss if her lips weren't so busy on mine.

I felt my shirt being ripped open, and her lips very quickly began kissing down my chest, making me shiver in delight. By the time she got to the top of my pants, my body was so stiff that I couldn't breathe, couldn't even dare to move.

I needed this, and I didn't necessarily mean the sex. What I needed was her, despite how irritating and stupid she was sometimes. That was all I needed, for the rest of my existence.

This was what I needed, forever.