"Vampire," I gasped out after what felt like forever. "You're a vampire, Edward."

"Yes, Isabella. Yes, I am."

And, with those five little words, words that validated the entire basis of my freak-out and negated everything I had held true in the world, I did what any sensible girl would do, were she in my situation.

I fainted.

Chapter 14

When I woke up, it was morning. I felt the sunlight on my face before I even opened my eyes. I felt the blankets tucked snugly around my body and snuggled a bit deeper into them. I felt the fabric of Edward's sweater balled up in my fist and jumped out of my bed like it was on fire.

"You're here," I managed, stammering.

"You're awake."

"I guess we're both just full of useful observations this morning," I bit out, staring at him as he stretched out across my bed, arms folded behind his head as though he hadn't a care in the world. Who was he and what had he done with my brooding Edward?

"Just this morning, Isabella? I thought last night was rather useful as well. How are you feeling?"

"Swell."

"Lovely."

Lovely. Yeah.

I stared at him and he smirked back. And we stayed that way. For entirely too long.

Snippets of the night before leaped to the forefront of my mind. Me declaring feelings. Him declaring feelings. Me calling him a vampire. Him calling himself a vampire. Me passing out.

Oh yeah. I passed out. Weak.

Wait. He's a vampire.

Oh yeah. Undead.

"Edward..."

"Yes, Isabella?"

"Did I have a really fucked up dream?"

"No."

"Did I hit my head when I fainted?"

"What sort of man would I be if I allowed you to harm yourself? Of course you didn't hit your head. You didn't even hit the ground."

"Right, then. Thanks for that, by the way."

"My pleasure, love."

"Love, right. I love you."

"As I love you."

"And you're a vampire."

"Yes."

"I'm in love with a vampire."

"I'm in love with a human girl."

"Mine's stranger."

"To you, I suppose."

"Am I asleep right now?"

"I sincerely hope not."

"Right."

"Indeed."

Befuddled and with more than a small headache, I sank down onto my rocking chair, eying Edward warily as he straightened himself on my bed.

"So, you should talk now."

"Right. Where would you like me to begin?"

"The beginning. How old are you?"

"Around 110. Give or take a few years."

"Yeah, that's how I count my age, too. What's a decade between friends?"

"Isabella..." his tone belied a warning, but levity was the only thing keeping me sane at this point.

"How'd it happen? How are you a vampire?"

"Carlisle changed me. My parents had died of Spanish influenza and I was on my way out myself. My mother's dying words were spent on Carlisle, asking him to take care of me. And so, he did. He saved my life the only way he could. It was the first time he had tasted human blood in over a century."

He was being so matter of fact. And I suppose it was to him. A matter of fact, that is.

"Your 'siblings'?"

"All changed by Carlisle, save Alice and Jasper who came to us on their own. Esme, Rosalie, and Emmett were all dying. Carlisle would never have changed them otherwise."

"How many towns have you lived in?"

"Too many."

"How many schools?"

"Too many."

"How many girls?"

"None. Until now, that is."

He watched me and I watched him back, my insecurities sated for the time being. There had never been another. At least...

"What about vampires? Surely you've been with your own kind..."

"Never, Isabella. There is only you. And there will only ever be you."

His eyes burned into mine. My feet carried me across the room and onto my bed. I had no other choice, really.

Reaching up, placing a tentative hand on his cheek, I brought my lips to his. And he met them eagerly.

It began chaste. We pecked. We rubbed. We nuzzled.

But then there was heat. Fire.

Chaste wasn't enough.

I had the feeling that nothing would ever be enough.

His cool tongue met my lips, running along the seam to my mouth, tasting me, stroking me. I opened in response, meeting his tongue with my own and reveling in the feeling of hot and cold, light and dark, man and woman. I moaned into his mouth, and he snapped into action, his arms snaking around my body, drawing me into him. I clawed at his chest, desperate to find purchase against his marble flesh, but his unyielding torso left me little to latch onto, so I settled for drawing fingers through his hair, teasing his scalp with my nails and earning an enticing growl from him in the process.

We stayed like that forever, tasting, exploring, learning. I felt consumed by him, alive, electrified. Nothing mattered by his mouth, his body, his existence. I got lost in him. It was when I went for my shirt that he backed off.

It's funny, really. Any other seventeen year old boy would have been thrilled to watch her girlfriend pull her shirt off for him. My seventeen year old by only let me get about halfway before he encircled my wrists with his elegant fingers, preventing me from any further progress.

I pouted. Like a toddler.

"No, Isabella. Not now. Not yet."

His tone was gentle, his eyes tender, but I couldn't stop the hurt from coming. I couldn't help it. My ego was bruised.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, lowering my shirt as a traitorous blush invaded my cheeks.

"Don't apologize for that, love. Don't apologize for anything. I wanted it, so badly. I want you."

"You do?"

"I want you more than I've ever wanted anything, Isabella. Believe me."

"Then, why can't we..."

"It's not appropriate at present. That's all. We've had a rough start of this. A terrible start, to be frank. And a lot was said last night, a lot said this morning. It's quite a bit to take in. I want to make sure you know what you're getting yourself into before we move things any further. I want to be a gentleman."

I snorted. Gentleman my ass.

"Does that mean we can't kiss anymore?" I asked innocently, already building my case for a more physical relationship in my head as I crawled back across the bed towards him.

"Bella," Edward growled, circling me with his arms and drawing me into him, "I couldn't stop kissing you if I tried."