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Edward smiled warily. "Here it comes," announcing the sun's arrival.

I moved my head to see the sun climbing over the hill on the opposite side of Lake Crescent. It illuminated its surroundings, making the green hills greener, the lake blue and golden by its shine. I turned to see Edward. What I saw there, was a sight I knew would never leave me.

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Chapter 10 – Bling Bling

Edward in the sunlight was shocking. His skin literally sparkled, like thousands of tiny diamonds were embedded in the surface. He sat perfectly still against the tree, his scintillating body reflecting light on mine. He was a perfect statue, carved in some unknown stone, smooth like marble, glittering like crystal.

I was speechless. Well, almost, "This is quite... different from what I expected." He inclined his head to will me on. Instead I sat up, his watchful eyes studying my every move. I positioned my face close to his, trying to identify the hidden facets in his skin. He directed his gaze towards the sun. My fingertip traced his cheekbone, if I would scratch some skin off, would it still sparkle under my claw? I had no desire to harm him, only to dwell in fascination.

He is such a strange being, for some reason that thought managed to fill me with carefree happiness. I threw myself on his lap recklessly, positioning my legs at a right-angle from his, my arm draped over his shoulders.

He looked at me questionably.

"You're weird!" I told him merrily.

He looked a bit puzzled, then cleared his face and challenged, "You can wag your tail."

"Your eyes change colour," I defied.

"Your hair changed colour," he simply said.

"You hear voices."

"So do you," he mentally taunted.

I jetted my face to his and snapped my teeth in a mock-bite. He laughed heartily causing me to jiggle alongside the tremors, which soon resided into a chuckle. His butterscotch eyes matched his skin by a pleasant gleam, luring me in. I stared at them trying to uncover the depths of him.

"You're beautiful," he said.

"You're not so bad yourself," I purred.

"You should see my picture in the attic." The gleam dulled.

A short moment passed. "Oscar Wilde?" (1.)

He nodded appreciatively, not expecting me to have read the novel, but grimaced while doing so.

I understood the seriousness of the topic, though I didn't want him to feel bad. Instead I shuffled on his lap a bit, showing him I was comfortable for a long wait. "Let's hear it." I smiled encouragingly.

(AN: For those who don't want to reread Edward's history skip to the - - - - - - )

He nodded, took a deep breath, and started from the very beginning. He told me how Carlisle, his father was born in the 1640's and soon thereafter was attacked by a vampire who didn't drain enough of his blood to kill him. Carlisle became a vampire after three painful days when the venom had run its course. Being a young vampire, he was ravenous for human blood. Only because of his gift, his control, and a naturally good heart, he refused to attack humans and forced himself to feed on animals instead.

He had travelled the world alone for over a century, studying. He had decided to become a doctor, to use his vampire traits to save lives, instead of taking them.

When the Spanish Influenza hit in 1918, he was working nights in a hospital in Chicago. He'd been turning over an idea in his mind for several years, and he had almost decided to act – since he couldn't find a companion that shared his views, he would create one. Though he was loath to steal anyone's life the way his had been stolen. It was in that frame of mind that he had found Edward.

Edward's family had died of the disease. Only he and his mother were left, still suffering from it. With his mother's dying breath, she had pleaded Carlisle to save the terminally sick Edward in a way only he could.

"He decided to try…" Edward's voice was barely a whisper now, trailed off. He stared unseeingly at the still water. I wondered which images filled his mind now, Carlisle's memories or his own.

"I have almost always stayed with him."

For the first time I interrupted, "Almost?"

He sighed, seeming reluctant to answer. "Well, I had a typical bout of rebellious adolescence – about ten years after I was… born… created, whatever you want to call it. I wasn't sold on his life of abstinence, and I resented him for curbing my appetite. So I went off on my own.

"From the time of my new birth, I had the advantage of knowing what everyone around me was thinking, both human and non-human alike. That's why it took me ten years to defy Carlisle – I could read his perfect sincerity, understand exactly why he lived the way he did.

"It took me only a few years to return to Carlisle and recommit to his vision. I thought I would be exempt from the… depression… that accompanies a conscience. Because I knew the thoughts of my prey, I could pass over the innocent and pursue only the evil. If I followed a murderer down a dark alley where he stalked a young girl – if I saved her, then surely I wasn't so terrible. But as time went on, I began to see the monster in my eyes. I couldn't escape the debt of so much human life taken, no matter how justified. And I went back to Carlisle and his new wife Esme. They welcomed me back like the prodigal. It was more than I deserved."

- - - - - -

I felt sorry for him. It must have been a very confusing and lonely time. He shifted to the side to look into my eyes. "What are you thinking?"

I squinted. "Why are you asking? You can find out whenever you want."

"I'm not sure I really want to know."

"I was thinking it was understandable. You must have felt… lost. Whenever you talk about being a vampire you always seem so sad. Are you not grateful for Carlisle's decision? Or for your immortality?"

"Would I rather have died of the Spanish Influenza in a Chicago hospital? Then no." I diverted my eyes; his expression was full of melancholy. The whole sad-angel thing playing on his face kept me from focusing on what was being said; it didn't look right. He placed one hand on my cheek like he had in lunch the previous day, and forced me to look at him.

"But understand," he began. "You mortals have purpose, have a meaning for living. You are born, you grow, learn, have families, and eventually die. I don't have any of that. I exist now, like I have existed decades ago, and will be doing centuries to come. I see the whole world around me change, yet I remain the same. I've been through med school twice, keeping Carlisle up-to-date with the latest techniques. But I'll always be, or appear to be, too young to actually practice it. Once I've been labelled twenty-five, people get suspicious." He smiled, though his other features were unaffected by it. "In eight years time we will move to a different town again, and I will roll into high school… again."

The sun had moved up in the heavens, trees were blocking its light. Birds could be heard in the distance. I sat up and moved my hands through his hair. His topaz orbs were radiating a painful sorrow. I inhaled his captivating scent, our breath mixed in the air. I wanted to connect with him, share what he was going through. I wanted to make him feel better, show him I understood. I wanted to touch him, feel more of him. I leaned in closer. "I'll keep you company for a couple of decades, if you let me."

He smiled. "That would be something worth existing for." He moved the remaining distance, letting his lips descend on mine.

They were cool and smooth, mine were tantalized by the sensation. I breathed in his heady scent causing the kiss to reach an entirely different level. Our lips parted, we were both eager to deepen. A swift pang went through me, it felt so right. We tasted each other thoroughly, with a passion I didn't expect, mending every ailment. This was more than just a kiss; this was a gift to one another, a symbol of our mutual acceptance of what we were.

After a few long moments we broke away, I felt alive. He seemed exhilarated; there was not even a trace of the previous melancholy. I pushed my limbs in opposite directions, stretching as far as I could in his lap, relishing the elongation of muscle. I wanted to run with him again, celebrate him and the feelings he stirred.

"What time do you think it is?" I asked.

He looked into the sky. "A quarter past seven, give or take two minutes."

He is such a rare find I thought. "I'd better get home. All non-disco-balls, meaning me, should be getting ready for school." He gracefully snorted. "Plus my mom might have some questions as to what happened to me." I moved my eyes upward, implying the white strands of hair. "I have to tell her about Sam Uley, bet she'd love to meet him and his posse."

Edward's expression fell. "Vivian, I know you can take care of yourself, but be careful with that scum. I won't be able to come with you to meet them. It could be dangerous. And… I'm pretty sure they'll tell you anything to keep you away from me." He looked at me meaningfully. "You'd make me a very happy disco-ball if you wouldn't go."

I shifted uneasily. I wouldn't want to dishonour the trust we are building here by fraternising with the enemy. But a pack would be good for my mother, and to be honest, I wouldn't mind being around wolves every now and then myself. But if it would come down to choosing sides, I would pick Edward.

"Even if, I don't think I have a choice. Sam seemed pretty forceful about my mom and me coming to meet him. If we wouldn't go, he'd probably come and find us instead. At least this way we'll be prepared. My mother is lonely too. She used to be Queen Wolf, all she has now, is me."

He thought for a second, he wasn't too pleased. "I suppose you're right." Something flashed over his face, but it was too swift for me to catch. He straightened his spine and bowed deeply. He cocked his head upwards, eying me through his lashes. "I pray thee for thine pardon milady, for my humblest heart, ere was unaware, to have doted upon royalty…"

He took my hand and kissed the top. He then moved down to my fingers and before he teasingly bit the tip of my index he added "Princess."

The girl and wolf in me were having a mental competition who could purr the loudest. "Oh no you di-int!" I scorned. I pushed him back and while he stumbled, I crouched and leapt on top of him. Once we hit the ground, he took my wrists and rolled to position himself on top of me. On the soft moss we shared our second beautiful kiss.

"What time is it now?" I should really be getting back.

He looked at the position of the sun again, reflecting the light in all directions. "Half eight, give or take t-"

"Two minutes, got it. Could you help me get home? I usually never run this far."

"My pleasure."

We weaved through the woods not unlike last time. Soon trees and smells became more familiar and I knew we were nearing home. Once we reached my house I could see my mom in the kitchen. Already dressed in her Herman's apron rummaging around in the cupboards, no doubt she was hunting for a granola bar.

Edward complimented the house on its isolated location – probably because the house itself wasn't compliment worthy; small, and moderately old. Whatever, I like it just fine.

"Pfff, wish me luck," I grumbled, already dreading how I was going to explain Edward and the other wolves to my mum and go through the approaching school-day.

He wiped my hair to the side and brushed a kiss on my neck. "Good luck," he murmured.

"What are you going to do today?" I asked.

"First go home and clean up." He gestured towards his torn and slightly blood tainted trousers.

"You must heal pretty fast," I blurted. "There was no wound when I saw you."

He shrugged. "It usually doesn't take long, depends how severe the wound is. Their bite wasn't deep." He scanned me over. "I suggest you keep the shirt. It will serve as a good conversation starter, plus you look fascinating in my clothes, and it doesn't smell of the old you au contraire to this…" he pointed up with one finger, "parachute."

Before looking up, I knew he was referring to the baggy shirt I had worn for my pre-run nap. He jumped up to retrieve it from the tree. Dear moon, my underwear must be somewhere near.

He handed me the shirt with obvious mock in his expression. I rolled my eyes, gave him a kiss on the lips, and turned to take my first step of the green mile to the front door. "See you Edward."

"Until later Vivian."

1.The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde is a classic horror fiction where a beautiful young man had his 'soul' captured in a painting. The young man stayed young forever while the man in the painting aged. With every vile act the man committed, the painting became more gruesome, reflecting the ugliness of his soul. The man stored this painting in the attic.
AN: Please review.