I curl up under my blanket on the couch, and I'm about to eat while I watch whatever holiday crap the Hallmark channel is showing tonight, when there's a knock at my door. It's not a punch or a kick, so my first assumption isn't that it would be Edward standing at my door, but when I peek out the peep hole, my assumptions are proved wrong.

It's him.

I open the door, and he's standing there with his plate.

"Crap," I tell him. "Is it not good? I make this all the time, and it's not like…I don't know, steak or anything, but it's okay. I mean, I think it's good. But I haven't had any yet – that's what I was doing. Well, I was getting ready to do it…to eat, I mean."

"Calm down," he snaps. "It's fine. Well, I'm sure it's fine. I haven't had any yet either."

"Do you not like chicken and rice?" I ask, still not understanding why he's here. "Does spicy food upset you stomach? Or maybe it causes you to…"

"No," he interrupts, quickly and loudly, his face turning red. "Jesus, do you ever know when to stop talking?"

"Sorry," I say, feeling reprimanded. "Sometimes I just…"

"Sometimes you just what?"

"Oh, did you want me to keep talking now?" I huff. "You need to make up your mind. Talking or not. You can't have it both ways, and honestly, it's not like I can ever tell what you're thinking. I mean, you're like the freaking king of the land of hot and cold."

He looks thoroughly scolded at my words. And fuck, maybe he's right. Maybe I do need to learn to keep my mouth shut on occasion.

"But no," I tell him softly. "Sometimes I don't know when to just shut the fuck up. As you can tell, it's a problem."

"That's not…that's not what I meant," he says. "I want to…well, I want to know what you're thinking. Just maybe not what you're thinking about what spicy food might do to my stomach."

Oh.

Oh!

I'm mortified at his words. The only thing making me feel any better is his own obvious mortification at having to explain what he meant.

"I'm sorry. I really suck at this," I tell him.

"What?"

"Talking to humans in general."

"If it makes you feel any better," he says, and as he speaks, the street light turns on. I'm struck by the sight of him standing here at my door, the snow coming down behind him. "I really suck at it, too."

"That never would have occurred to me," I tell him, smiling.

This earns me his seventh in return.

"I…uh…I was wondering if maybe," he shuffles from side to side and looks down at his boot covered feet. "Well, I was just thinking that…you know, since you took the time to make this and all…"

"Are you asking me if I would like to eat with you?" I ask. I don't know if this is a huge mistake. I mean, I'm pretty sure that's what he was getting at, but I've been seriously wrong where he's concerned before.

He looks up at me, and I wish I knew if his pink cheeks were from the offer or the snow.

"Umm…yeah, I was."

Ignoring the pounding in my chest, and silently deciding to ponder what it really means later, I push the door open further and step to the side.

"You should come in," I tell him. "It's cold out there."

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I'm not feeling creative enough to tell you anything other than thank you this morning! So, here it is: THANK YOU! I ADORE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU!

Jaime, Kourt, Laura, and Raina - ILY. Yeah, that's all I have right now. Well, that and this coffee I would share with you if I could.

Same thing for Marvar - she knows exactly how I feel about her. (I'm grateful she still loved me when I was writing endless paragraphs about Bella's clothes.) - That seriously happened.

See you guys later today!

Reviews are love.

xo