March 31, 2009
10:14 am
Newton's Sporting Goods Store, Forks, Washington

"Favorite color?" she asked.

"Brown," Edward stated quietly, his voice still melodic and velvet smooth, despite the low volume.

"What? Why brown?" Bella laughed.

"I don't know," he returned without inflection.

Bella suspected that he did, in fact, know, but instead, did not want to comment to the effect. Edward was such a riddle, a puzzling and perplexing mystery. From Bella's perspective, despite his strange behavior, he certainly seemed nice enough, and he was easily one of the most polite men she'd ever encountered. And, of course, he was incredibly good looking. So much so that during their conversations, she had to periodically remind herself to not stare at him for long periods of time. For whenever she did, it was impossible to look away. In secret delight, her heart inexplicably stuttered when she found herself caught in his gaze, and when he offered his rare, traffic-stopping, crooked smile, breathing seemed to be altogether forgotten.

On top of all of this, speaking with him reminded her of the long, nearly forgotten afternoon sessions she used to share with her professors in Arizona. He was remarkably intelligent, was well versed in her favorite literature, even the more obscure works, and his terms and expressions were fascinating. The cadences were… off, and his wordings were evocative of an earlier era. Edward Cullen was a complex and captivating individual. Whenever he spoke, there always seemed to be something more brewing just under the surface. It was as though he had so much to say, but for whatever reason, held himself back. If anything, these past few days had taught her just how much one could want to know another individual.

After their Saturday afternoon confrontation, it seemed that Edward had taken her request to heart. Rather than sneaking and watching her from afar, he began approaching her and engaging her in conversation.

The following Sunday, after glumly perusing her woefully scarce personal library, Bella had decided to make the short trip to the Forks Library in search of new reading material.

En route to the library, she stopped by the local grocer to pick up a few dry goods for the dinner she had planned to prepare that evening for her father. As she debated the options in the sparse pasta section, Bella heard a familiarly pitched voice clearing his throat, graciously signaling his presence. When she looked up, she saw Edward Cullen standing at the far end of the aisle with a curious half smile played across his lips. Despite his verbal warning, she still started at the sight of him, and her breath caught as his smile widened. If she'd not known better, she would have sworn that his reaction was timed just precisely with the stutter of her heart.

After a few moments of silent regard, he slowly approached her, and in a hesitant voice, politely asked if he might accompany her on her shopping trip. It was an unusual request. But then, from Bella's perspective, everything about Edward Cullen was unusual. Even though she knew better, she was too curious about the beautiful man who seemed to be so interested in her to say no. As she continued examining the store's aisles, him following at a respectful distance, they chatted about light, everyday topics.

With some prying, she learned that his family lived a few miles out of town and that they'd only arrived in Forks a few months prior. In fact, Edward had been in town but a few times. According to Edward, he'd been sent to the store by his mother to purchase ingredients for a casserole. Bella silently noted, however, that the items he carried had no place in any casserole dish she'd ever made. Actually, he seemed completely lost in the meager grocery store, almost as if he'd never set foot inside of one. It was puzzling.

After she'd paid for her items and prepared to leave, Edward's features twisted, and he seemed torn, as if he wanted to say something, but couldn't decide if it was appropriate. Not quite ready to let him go, with slight trepidation, Bella asked him if he would like to accompany her to the library. Edward's response was another melting smile and an affirmative nod. At her invitation, Bella noticed that his features relaxed and lightened; she curiously wondered if his indecision had been about that very topic.

Regardless, they spent the afternoon together, quietly tucked away in the small, dimly lit town library. It was a pleasant, cozy space. The air was flavored by the smell of rich leather, musty pages, and lemony furniture polish. And then, periodically, she caught faint wisps of Edward's fragrance. His cologne was unlike any she had ever smelled before; strangely, it reminded her of sunshine and honey. Unconsciously understanding his desire for distance, she resisted the urge to lean in to study it further.

As she looked around the small room, she noticed the gilded bindings of the old books, glittering and catching the warm, yellowed light from the overhead fixtures. Normally, Bella would have been immediately drawn by their allure. But rather than investigating the contents of the shelves, she found herself completely caught up in careful and deliberate discussion with Edward. Their quietly spoken conversation ranged widely, from lighter topics to deeper, more controversial areas, ones that she'd not broached with anyone since moving to Forks.

For most of their time together, Edward seemed to be the one guiding the conversation. His never-ending questions came in rapid-fire succession in what seemed to be no order at all. He wanted to know her favorite books, her favorite movies as well as her favorite music. He wanted to know her opinions on divinity and spirituality. And then, he was endlessly curious about her studies in Arizona, and seemed genuinely interested in her intent to finish her degree in Seattle. When asked why she tended toward the Romantic era literature, Bella turned scarlet as she admitted to an affinity for old world ideals and notions. Edward's response had been an unexplainable tightening of his eyes, and she noted that his fingers curled sharply around the roughened table edge.

When he asked her about her family, she told him in a quiet, strained voice about the death of her mother. As she described the funeral, her moistened eyes fell to the chipped walnut tabletop, and her hands involuntarily twisted the worn olive cotton of her jacket. When she glanced up, she found his features settled in another grimace, though this time, it was almost as if he were angered by something. Before she could ask, however, he looked away, and muttered a soft apology for her loss.

Since most of their time was spent with Edward asking questions, Bella gathered little information about him. She did learn that he was, in fact, Alice's brother. Jasper was her spouse, and thus, his brother-in-law. There were also two other siblings, Rosalie and Emmett, also married. When Edward spoke of his family, a perceptible change came over him. He was warmer, more animated, and more forthcoming. His smile stretched across his entire face, and his hands waved as he spoke. He clearly loved his family and enjoyed their company, despite the fact that he seemed to be the odd man out. When Bella asked him about this, his eyes flickered perceptibly, and his lips pressed into a hard, forced smile. Politely, he murmured, "No, not really. It doesn't bother me as you might think it would. Of course, sometimes I can feel what you might would call lonely, but such is the way of things."

With some effort, she learned that he'd studied at Dartmouth, but again, he said very little about his time there. Based on that information, she surmised that he was perhaps a few years older than her. It was difficult to discern exactly, however, as physically, he appeared no more than twenty, but intellectually, he could have been an octogenarian.

It didn't escape her notice, that for the entirety of their conversation, Edward never stepped within five feet of her, and frequently, his expression would twist in the same expression of pain she'd seen before. When she finally pointed his reactions out, he too-casually shrugged her concern off. At one point, she thought that she heard him mumble under his breath something about 'being too perceptive.'

Overall, Bella found their time together to be an exciting, albeit peculiar, exchange. Edward was the first person she'd met in Forks with whom she felt she could truly relate. She found, that with him, time seemed to speed by. All too soon, the library was closing. As they parted ways, Edward softly asked if she would mind him visiting her at work the next day. Bella deliberated for a moment, mostly for the sake of propriety, and told him that he was welcome to visit. In truth, she did not want to let him go, and was more than pleased at the prospect of seeing him again. While she still felt unease by his behavior, her intrigue won out.

To her astonishment, the next morning, as Bella was unlocking the front entrance, Edward appeared, seemingly from out of nowhere, offering to assist her. Before she could protest his startling materialization, he'd smiled that devastating smile of his, and his honeyed eyes flickered warmly, effectively rendering her mind to mush. All she'd been able to muster was a quick bob of her slicker covered head.

Monday had been a slow day at the store, most likely the result of the torrential downpour that had been forecasted to continue through the following few days. While Bella spent the majority of the day straightening the already neat and tidy shelves, she and Edward continued their discussion from the day before.

Again, his questions came at her at a dizzying pace. She couldn't fathom why he was so interested in the menial details of her life, but he genuinely seemed to want to know things about her. When she would become embarrassed and falter over an answer, his amber eyes would flash, warring between some unknown emotion and enjoyment, and he'd pause the barrage to delve further. More than once, she found herself blushing at the ground. And each time, she would look up to find his features tense and his lips mashed together in a hard line. His reactions were perplexing, but with his nonstop inquisition, she had little time to ask.

When customers came in, the few that there were, Edward would wander about the store, feigning interest in backpacks or dry bags. Bella chuckled at his dissembling, as his dark woolen slacks, pressed white oxford button up, and fine leather shoes did not quite look the part in the rustic outfitters store.

As closing time approached, he ducked his head, and quietly asked, "Bella, would you mind too terribly if I returned tomorrow?"

"Why?" she asked. What more could he want to know? Surely, he was bored, she reasoned silently.

"What do you mean, 'why,'" he returned with a confused expression. His head tilted to the side, and his long fingers raked nervously through his already disheveled bronze hair.

"Don't get me wrong, Edward. I certainly enjoy your company, but I don't understand your interest in me. I'm really fairly boring," Bella commented.

In a sincere tone, he replied, "Quite the contrary. You are one of the least 'boring' individuals I've ever encountered, Bella. Everything you do surprises me; you are absolutely fascinating."

Her breath caught at his admission. Surprised and unbelieving, Bella laughed a rich, full laugh, "Ok, Edward. Whatever you say. I suppose I'll see you tomorrow then."

Edward lips upturned at her amusement, and he murmured, "Goodbye, Bella."

Bella thought quickly, and called out as he departed, "Oh, and Edward?"

At the sound of her voice, she saw Edward quickly spin on his heel to face her. The vague image of the ephemeral white and bronze streaky blur from days ago surfaced. Impossible, her mind screamed.

"Yes?" he asked with a dazzling smile.

Momentarily distracted by the perturbing flitting memory, she was silent. After a second of contemplation, she recovered with a shake of her hear and continued, "Tomorrow? My turn."

"I beg your pardon?" he said with a delightfully baffled expression. Distraction shelved, Bella nearly laughed again.

"To ask the questions. You've had your time, now it's my turn."

That evening passed slowly for Bella. As she went through the motions of preparing the complicated eggplant and pasta dish she'd planned, she realized, to her own embarrassment, that she really wanted to see Edward again. As she moved about the small, yellow kitchen, images of him flooded her vision. She had so many questions for him, and she was bound and determined to get some answers from him the following day. She had certainly told him more about herself than she had ever told anyone. What is it about him? she questioned.

He was so disarming, and it was so easy to speak with him. Against her own better judgment, she found herself trusting him, despite his strange, almost stalker-like behavior. But it was readily obvious that there was no malice in him toward her; in actuality, he treated her with far more respect and care than she'd ever experienced before. She'd had to snap at him on more than one occasion that day when he tried to step in and move merchandise for her. It was…cute in an old fashioned kind of way. Men just did not behave that way anymore. Exceptional courtesy was one more quality to add to the pile.

Sleep was hard won that night; in place of the normal vivid and bloody nightmares of her mother's corpse, Bella, instead, dreamed strange, surreal dreams of bronze and white streaky blurs, of ambered eyes flashing to black, and of tensing jaw lines. Not surprising, she was awake well before the alarm, and was getting ready for another day at work and another day of hopefully discovering more about her mysterious new admirer.

Arriving considerably early, she hadn't expected Edward to be there. But he was. As she walked sans slicker in the never ending drizzle up to the store, she could see him there, casually leaning against dark painted slats of the storefront. Again, his breathtaking beauty struck her. His coppery locks were darkened by the rain, and were wild and windblown, almost as if he'd been running or out in a windstorm. Her fingers twitched with desire to run her fingers through them. The white marble of his complexion was flawlessly smooth, and it contrasted brightly with the jet-black of his canvas jacket. His eyes were peculiarly lighter in color than she remembered, a pale ocher, and the ever-present purplish shadows underneath had all but vanished. How odd, she thought. Perhaps he simply got a good night's rest. At least one of us did.

As he held the door for her, he muffled a quiet laugh with his free hand.

"What?" she asked curiously, as she turned to glance up at him though damp, fallen strands of hair.

"Nothing, really. I'd not have believed it, but you smell better in the rain," he replied softly. While his words were strange enough, something else was left unspoken. His expression was tense, and the lightness of his eyes had shifted to a dark molasses. His jaw flexed, reminiscent of images she'd dreamed the night before.

"I don't really know what to say to that, Edward. I'm not sure if I should be flattered or insulted," she returned with an easy tone.

"Oh, you could say it was a compliment. Most assuredly, a compliment," he replied levelly, looking off over her head.

Not having a response, Bella continued her path to the office in the back of the store. As she went through the familiar process of opening for business, they continued their conversation from where they'd left off the day before. "My turn, remember?" she said playfully.

For the remainder of the day, she shot question after question at him, mimicking his approach of the two prior days. She quickly learned that they had a tremendous amount in common. While she disagreed with his choices in literature – she found his preferences a touch too dark and brooding for her taste – he was certainly well read. His music preferences, like hers, were eclectic and ranged from new indie bands to opera. She also learned more about his family and about how they typically moved around a lot as his father liked working in different hospitals.

"How long will you stay in Forks?" she asked with undisguised longing.

From his standard five feet away, his lips quirked in understanding as he replied, "It depends. Although, I may choose to stay in Washington longer if my family were to decide to move too soon for my liking."

March 31, 2009
8:22 pm
The Lodge Restaurant, Forks, Washington

"Damn that boy to the fiery pits of Hades," Edward spat as he uprooted another green sapling.

From his vantage, he had a clear view through the window of his Bella and that boy, Jacob Black. Edward had been none to pleased when Bella had mentioned that she was meeting the boy for dinner that evening. With every fiber of his being, he wanted to ask her to decline. But he could do no such thing; Bella would not understand his overly emotional and irrational request. If he were being honest, he could not understand it either.

For the last few days, he'd been consumed by her presence. With no small amount of pride, he had all but conquered the draw of her scent. Not conquered, per se, he admitted. He had, however, managed a level of proximity and duration that he would have never imagined a week prior. And he had victoriously fought back dozens of wild urges. While it never waned, the constant fire in his throat was becoming almost bearable, or at least, tolerable. But then, between the time he spent with her and his nights at Newton's, he'd been exposing himself to that wretchedly divine scent almost continuously.

Sitting with her in that library had been almost too much. The space was too small, too cramped, and her bouquet mingled so pleasantly with fragrant leather oils of the antique books. But, he had managed, and he had been rewarded with a wealth of information concerning the girl. Her quiet mind was impossibly alluring; she was no shallow college co-ed, nor was she condescending in her intelligence. Bella could hold her own with charm and grace in any intellectual debate, especially those involving literature and history. For the first time in his existence, he found himself completely and utterly drawn into conversation with someone outside of his family.

Unfortunately, the more he learned, the deeper down the proverbial rabbit hole he found himself. And the more involved with her he allowed himself to be, the more painful the thought of losing her became. By the time he'd spent two whole days with her in her store, he realized that he was irrevocably chained to this girl, this fragile human girl. If he were to fail and not destroy James, he was not sure how his existence would be impacted, knowing this girl no longer breathed.

At the moment, however, Edward's focus was completely on another, unexpected and new issue. The boy's thoughts were lewd as usual. His eyes had immediately drawn to the deep v-cut of her wine colored blouse, and his mind had spun a hundred vulgar scenarios in which he'd removed her garments. Admittedly, the boy was not alone or individual in his thoughts; half a dozen other males were eyeing her with similar thoughts. But those males were not having dinner with her, and she was not smiling at them.

From Edward's perspective, the tone with which she spoke with the boy was not the same with which she spoke to him. She seemed to hold herself back; she did not share her thoughts the way she had with him. Instead, she spoke with the boy of only mundane, standard topics. This pleased Edward more than it should. On top of that, her breathing was regular and her heart thudded a slow, steady rhythm. Conversely, when she was with him, her breathing routinely hitched, and her wet, smacking heartbeat varied from irregular stuttering to fast thrumming. He did not understand the variation, but there was a perceptible difference in her reaction to him and to this boy.

But, she did smile at the boy. And he made her laugh. Another young tree broke beneath his grip.

As they rose to leave, Edward thanked a dozen deities that he no longer had to endure the boy's attempts at impressing Bella. He again said prayers of thanks when Bella had not offered him an invitation into her home. She had, instead, smiled kindly and apologized for her need for sleep. Content, Edward had intended to depart from her as well. In order to continue their interaction, daily hunting was a necessity. After the boy's old, dinged VW was miles down the road, he raced through the forest to hunt, again.

Nevertheless, an hour later, he found himself drifting back through the thick, leafy trees near Bella's home. As he saw a second story light flicker off, he made the conscious decision that he had been avoiding for days. He wanted to see her again. And he did not think he could wait until ten o'clock the next morning.

After a moment of consideration, he rationalized that he would just check on her, just to make sure that she was sleeping well. Bella had looked exceedingly tired that day, and he worried about her health.

He wasn't sure which room was hers, so he took an educated guess and targeted the window through which he'd seen the lamp extinguish. With a light jump, his hand caught the overhang just above the high window. As he dangled there, his eyes looked into the room, and he discovered he'd predicted right.

Bella was there, lying asleep, curled across a fluffy, dark lavender bed set. An old, scuffed paperback was bent at the binding beside her, and a half empty glass of water decorated the nightstand. She was thankfully clothed in an ancient gray t-shirt and navy sweatpants – he had not considered the thought of her being otherwise – and her damp, dark curls were wildly splayed about her face. Her delicate lips were settled into a soft pout, and even through the double pane glass, he could easily discern her light breathing and thundering heartbeat. Despite having just fed, his throat again blossomed in scorching heat. He forcefully swallowed back the venom that pooled on his tongue.

Edward hung there for several long minutes, unmoving, memorizing her face framed in the pale moon light. Internally, he warred with the knowledge that he should not be there, that he was no better than one of the crude louts that ogled her, and with the incomprehensible desire to be in her presence. His better side won out, but as he was taking his last look at her and preparing to drop, he saw her lips move, and he heard a sharp whimper.

Frozen, he watched her fingers twist around the blanket, and her expression shifted from contented quiet to what appeared to be terror or agony. Her small body shook with tremors. Before he could consider the consequences of his actions, the window slid open, and he silently vaulted inside.

Not pausing, he ghosted to her side, bent down by the bed, and tentatively reached out to smooth her hair. At his touch, her movements stilled, and her grip loosened. What he felt was unfathomable. Against the icy granite of his skin, she was warm and soft, and her hair felt like the finest strands of silk. He wanted to bury his face in her curls. He, of course, did no such thing. Instead, holding his breath, he gently stroked her hair for several long minutes, carefully watching her face for any sign of cognizance.

Gradually, she returned to her previous state of calmness and serenity. With effort, he tore himself from her side, and silently flitted into the hall in search of a linen closet. In a flash, he returned with the thickest quilt he could find, and he gingerly laid the worn blanket on top of her.

Satisfied that she would sleep comfortably, he glanced around her small room. In the far corner, an antique hickory rocking chair beckoned. Always watching her, he settled into the chair to spend the remainder of the night.

April 1, 2009
1:22 am
Port Angeles, Washington

"Hey, baby. You looking for a good time?" the man sneered with a toothless smile. He was clearly intoxicated; his blood reeked of stale beer and cheap cigars. His thinning, peppered gray hair was grimy, and black grease coated the underside of his poorly kept nails. The man's complexion was sallow and marred by jagged scars from bar brawls. He was disgusting, even for a human.

"Why don't you come on over here, sweet thing? I got something for you," he slurred, as he motioned her toward the dark alley corner.

Victoria smirked at his comment. She cooed in a high, sugary soprano, "No, no, handsome one, I think I have something for you."

Hips swinging seductively, she sauntered over to the man. She toyed with him for a moment, licking her rosebud lips and innocently twirling her fiery tendrils of hair. "Would you like to see what I have for you?" she asked with a coy flutter of her eyes. The darkness, combined with the man's drunkenness, concealed the bright crimson of her irises.

"Hell yeah! Let me see what you got," the man grated, as his hand palmed her rear.

Suppressing her immediate response, she smiled and leaned into him, pressing her breasts against his soiled shirtfront. As her lips touched the skin of his neck, her icy breath washed over him, and the man shivered in response. Before he had the chance to react, her razor teeth pierced the dirty flesh covering his jugular, instantly slicing through skin, fat, and muscle. Without warning, her hand came up and crushed his throat, silencing his screams.

His thick limbs flailed helplessly as she sucked the hot blood from his stilling body. Within minutes, his corpse was emptied and obscured in a large, industrial garbage compactor.

As she licked a residual drop of blood from her lips, she glanced at the iron bin and giggled, "I hope it was as good for you as it was for me."