A/N: Twilight is Meyer's. No copyright infringement intended.

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EPOV

The window was open when I got there.

I parked Carlisle's car a few houses down and walked to Bella's yard. My gaze immediately was drawn to the pale light from the lamp in her room. I smiled like a madman when I saw that she'd left the window open to signal that it was okay for me to climb up. I'd given her an opening when I'd left her at her door this afternoon. I'd all but asked her to tell me if she didn't want me to come back. Her almost giddy response then had made me want to do back flips through the grass. But tonight, seeing that she really did want me there even after she'd had time to consider it… I couldn't scramble up the tree fast enough.

When I slipped into her room, she was in her pajamas, sitting on the bed in that damn near-fetal position with her sketchbook open on her thighs. She was wrapped up in whatever she was drawing and didn't notice me at first. I watched her for a moment, mesmerized by the way she chewed on her lower lip as she worked. Then I realized that I was being a little stalkerish and announced my presence. "Expecting someone?"

Bella jumped. I was glad she had her pencil off the page, or I would have felt really bad about ruining her sketch. She almost lost her book, but she slammed her hand down on it and pinned it in place. Her eyes were huge when they landed on me. "Jeez," she complained. "You scared the crap out of me."

I grinned. "You shouldn't leave your window open like that. Someone could just climb in here."

"Someone just did."

My heart thumped ridiculously hard when she called me "someone." I turned to hide my reaction from her under the pretense of closing the window to shut out the damp night air. "Sorry I scared you," I apologized. "I saw it was open and your lamp was on, so I thought it was okay—"

"No, it is," she hurried to assure me. "I mean, that's why I left it open. In case…" She flushed and looked away, back down at the book in her lap. "So you'd know my family was asleep," she finished quietly.

I took a little extra time at the window to give myself a second to recover. "It's cold," I said lamely. But a little irately. "You shouldn't have left it open. You were sick."

"I'm fine."

I finally turned to face her. She was watching me, but she quickly lowered her eyes again when I looked at her. Her gaze was locked on her sketch when she added, "I didn't want you to have to stand outside."

In the mist and dark. She cared so much it was absurd. "I would have survived."

"And so did I," she retorted a little heatedly. She wasn't going to give. And I had a feeling I wouldn't out-stubborn her.

So I changed the subject. Kind of. "Are you feeling better?"

Her irritation faded almost instantly. "Yeah. I am." She paused. "Thank you for coming back. But you didn't have to. I know it's cold and rainy. And the rocking chair—"

"It doesn't matter." I glanced down at the book she held. I wanted to ask what she'd been drawing. It would tell me what she'd been thinking when she'd been chewing her lip when I climbed in. But I knew from the way she cradled the sketch to her chest that she didn't want to share. So instead, I moved to the rocking chair and picked up the copy of Metamorphosis that still sat on the floor beside it.

Bella watched me for a moment, then she resumed her sketch without a word. My hand drifted to the pocket of my jeans. I had brought my iPod with me because she'd had a hard time sleeping the night before. I thought maybe the music would soothe her. Maybe Clair de Lune, like I listened to when I fell asleep, or a classical playlist while she drew. But the sound of her pencil moving over the paper was incredibly soothing, so I left the iPod in my pocket.

After a few minutes, I heard her flip back a few pages to another drawing to begin working on it. Eventually she commented, "The royalty and Jane."

I looked up to frown at her. She didn't look at me. A second later I understood. She was referencing what I'd heard her say in her sleep. As much as she could reference it without being too embarrassed. I smiled. It was amazing she'd brought it up at all, considering. "Yeah?" I replied.

She cocked her head at her sketch and added a little more shading, then she lifted her head and turned the book so I could see.

And I felt my mouth drop open.

She had drawn a group of seven teenagers, one girl and six boys. All wore flowing robes, and each had a crown. And all were unbelievably realistic, from one boy's boredom to another boy's childlike fascination. The girl's pain-inflicting glare was enough to make me want to cringe. The strangest of the group, though, was the boy who looked apathetic, but whose gaze somehow seemed to draw me in and leave me feeling lifeless and empty.

It was eerie. But amazing.

Bella indicated each in turn. "Aro, Caius, Marcus, Alec, Demetri, Felix," her nose wrinkled a little when she pointed to the hulking figure toward the back, "and Jane." And her entire face went strangely blank when she pointed to her.

"The royals?" I questioned.

"Alice, Jasper, and I call them that. They rule our school. And the Ren fest." She shrugged. "They got the parts of the royalty there, too. Not a surprise."

"You don't like them," I stated. That was obvious. But I wanted her to talk more.

"Ah." She turned the book back around. "They don't like anyone. So no. I don't particularly care for them."

I felt myself getting angry. It was clear that they had done something to her. I wanted to know what it was. I wanted to meet them. Maybe I would get to. Tomorrow.

But there was something else bothering her tonight. There was a heaviness to her that hadn't been there earlier. It was why I wanted to see her sketch from a few minutes ago, to try to understand what was working on her. Her behavior now reminded me of last night. How she'd sounded so broken when she'd whispered to me right before she'd fallen asleep. Did things just crash down on her before she slept? Was that why she dreamt so vocally? Or was it just because her family had come home a little while ago and she couldn't stand them?

I knew that I couldn't stand them. And I hadn't even met them. When she'd told me in that tone that she had to cook… I'd almost lost my temper. I'd considered staying to meet her family.

I wanted to meet quite a few people in her life, actually.

But right now, I wanted to hold her. To wipe away that crease between her brows. And see her smile at me. "Speaking of the festival," I began. When she looked at me, I shot her a mischievous grin. "Do I get free fair food now that I know someone on the inside?"

And there it was. Bella's face broke into that breathtaking smile. I felt my heart slam too hard. "I may be able to get you something from Angela's booth. If you really want it." Suddenly she frowned. "Crap. I owe her quesadillas."

That reminded me of all the food I'd seen in the refrigerator. She seemed to be a proficient – and impressive – cook. Which made me feel like an idiot for all the food I'd bought for her next visit to my house. I couldn't cook at all. She would laugh when she saw what I'd purchased. I'd considered giving Emmett permission to plow through it tonight just so she wouldn't know about it, but I had held out. For now.

But damn, all those leftovers had looked amazing. I just wanted to open the containers and take a bite of everything.

It reminded me of my mom.

I clenched my jaw at the unexpected memory. My mother had been a great cook. I'd always looked forward to her dinners. I wondered if Bella's family appreciated what they had. I figured they didn't.

"What's wrong?"

I blinked. Bella was staring at me, those wide brown eyes too knowing on my face. I hadn't realized that I'd been so distracted. I suddenly wanted to tell her everything. It took a lot of willpower to hold back. "Nothing," I said quickly. "I was just thinking."

She looked unconvinced. "I can make you quesadillas, too," she offered. "I'll probably make some for Jake and Billy. His dad," she explained. "They love them. And I can make you some, too. If you want."

I felt myself smiling. She'd started out teasing to get me out of my funk, but she'd turned shy on me at the end. It was cute. And I felt a surge of relief that there was someone who did seem to appreciate her. Even if it was Jacob. "That would be great."

She seemed comforted. "Okay. I'll make them for Sunday."

My heart stuttered. She was expecting to see me Sunday. I'd told her I would be at the festival Saturday. I never had mentioned Sunday. But she took it for granted I would be around. She was planning for it. Looking forward to it?

I was.

I tried to suppress my giddiness. And Bella tried to stifle a yawn. I let myself smile then. "You're tired."

"I'm okay."

"Hm." I put down my book and stood. She wouldn't out-stubborn me on this. She'd been sick. She needed to rest. "Go to bed."

She looked frustrated by my demand. I knew that she didn't like being ordered. She was considering staying up just to spite me. But she was tired. And my demand wasn't unreasonable. It was for her. So after a quick internal debate I practically could see in her eyes, she gave in. "Fine," she muttered. But she hesitated. Another debate began inside her. I watched her waver. Her face became uncertain, almost embarrassed. Her fingers twisted the wolf charm on her bracelet. Then she asked tentatively, "Are you staying?"

My heart gave another spasm. This girl was going to kill me. She seemed like she wanted me to say yes, and I had planned to stay. But I would give her an out just to be sure. "Unless you don't want me to," I replied. My voice sounded amazingly level considering the riot in my head.

She still looked nervous. I wondered if she was thinking about the talking in her sleep thing. I wished I hadn't teased her about it earlier. I hated that it had made her uneasy. I wished I could tell her now how much it fascinated me. How I looked forward to hearing it again. How she didn't need to be worried about it, because I never would judge her because of it. But I couldn't say any of that, and she didn't bring it up.

"It's kind of ridiculous for you to sleep in a rocking chair," she said.

"I don't mind it." I studied her face. It was bothering her. I wasn't going to stay if it would make her anxious, no matter how much it pained me to leave. "But I'll go," I added as I started for the window. I reached for my pocket to hand her the iPod before I climbed out.

"You could…" Bella trailed off. I stopped to glance back at her. Her face was flaming. She was embarrassed. Because of the talking? I turned to face her, determined to make her comfortable with me again. Then, suddenly, she blurted, "I mean, the bed's big enough."

I stared at her. I felt my mouth hanging open, and I worked to close it. She was inviting me to sleep in her bed. And her face was darkening by the second. She shifted her weight uncomfortably. I made myself blink. Slowly, I forced the rest of my body to function again. She looked miserable. I saw her preparing to play off my seeming rejection. I hurried to cut her off. "You would be okay with that?" I asked carefully.

She looked me bravely in the eye. Her voice was sure despite her blush. "I trust you."

Well… hell.

I had to swallow hard before I could speak. "Okay."

And then I had no idea what to do.

I ran a hand through my hair and realized that I still had my jacket on. I crossed the room to the rocking chair again. As I shrugged out of the jacket and draped it over the arm of the chair, I could feel Bella's eyes on me. I wondered if I looked as jumpy as I felt. But even if I didn't look it… I knew that she could see it.

Suave.

I lingered by the chair to give her a chance to change her mind. She didn't. Instead, she scooted off the end of the bed. I watched her slip her sketchbook and pencils into the top drawer of her desk. Then she moved back to the bed and hesitated. I waited. If she was reconsidering now that she was staring at the bed, I wasn't going to make a move until she decided on her own.

She looked back at me. And very deliberately pulled back the covers and slid into bed.

Shit. She really was going to kill me.

I took a breath to collect myself. Ran my hand through my hair again. And froze when I realized how nervous that made me look. For the love of all that was holy…. We were just sleeping side by side. It wasn't like she had propositioned me or something. And it was Bella. The girl I wanted to spend every second with, no matter what. So why was I hesitating? Man up, I ordered myself. What kind of guy makes the girl make all the first moves? Bella is braver than you. She's waiting.

She trusts you.

Like I'd told Esme, I wouldn't forget it. And I would trust her in return. She said she was okay with it, so I believed her. She would tell me if she changed her mind.

And there was no way I was turning her down.

I straightened my spine and walked to the lamp. It took my eyes a second to adjust when I turned it off. Then I moved to the bed and stretched out on top of the covers a few inches away from Bella.

It was like lying next to an open flame. She was so warm. Even through the blankets, she was just… warm. And electric.

I had thought I'd had a hard time sitting beside her on the couch. When I'd handed her the calculus book and my hand had hung in the air between us a second too long because I'd had to fight the urge to touch her. To brush her hair back from her face. To cradle her cheek in my palm. To feel her electricity under my skin. But now, lying beside her, I realized that that moment this afternoon barely had been a struggle. It was an all-out war to keep a careful distance between us now.

I would do nothing to mess this up. Nothing.

Bella was lying on her side facing me. I mirrored her position. For a long moment, neither of us spoke, nor even moved. I wished I knew what she was thinking. I wished I knew what to do. What to say. How to make this tension disappear. To make Bella comfortable so she could sleep. Maybe the iPod? Or I could hum Clair de Lune to her…. Like that wouldn't be awkward.

I wished I could play her the song I'd composed for her.

I was so caught up in trying to decide how to put her at ease that Bella's voice startled me when she finally broke the silence. "You won't get in trouble?" she whispered in the dark. "For not being home?"

Well, she didn't need the iPod. Leave it to her to make the first move again. She just kept showing me up. But I didn't mind. I loved it about her. "No," I replied quietly. And I felt us both settling as I spoke. "Carlisle's working the night shift. When I left here earlier, I went home, said hi. He left before I did."

"I like him," she commented. "Please tell him thank you for me. He didn't have to come check on me."

I already had thanked him. Because of her. But I would thank him for her as well. "I will," I promised. "And don't worry about it. He was willing to see you."

"It's nice that he's there for you."

Her voice had turned melancholy. I frowned. She was thinking about her dad. I felt a surge of disgust for the man. And another surge of gratefulness for Carlisle. "Yeah," I mumbled. "It is." I scrambled for another topic. Something to distract her. I didn't want her to fall asleep sad like she had last night. "Did you talk to Alice after I left?"

Suddenly Bella snorted. I felt myself grinning. "I texted her," she told me. "According to my stepsisters, you have disappeared off Bree's radar."

"Really." Thank God.

"Yeah. Apparently, if you hang out with someone Bree doesn't know exists, you don't exist, either." She paused. "Sorry to drag you down."

She seemed to be joking. But there was a strange pang in her voice. I wanted to hold her. The space between us felt huge. "You didn't drag me down," I said firmly. "Bree did. I hate having her stalking me. It's ridiculous." I thought of something. "Did you ever read any of her e-mails?"

"I didn't have to. My sisters talk about you nonstop. Alice would read them sometimes so we could make fun of them. Not you," she hurried to clarify. "Bree and her obsessive followers."

"I got it." I smiled into the dark. "Wonder what she would say if she did know where I am right now?"

"She'd kill me," Bella said matter-of-factly. "If she could get to me before Jessica and Lauren."

"So, Miss Swan," I began seriously, "if they were to kill you, what would you have for your last meal?"

I felt the bed shaking as Bella laughed softly. "What is with you and food?" she demanded.

"I'm a guy," I said unashamedly. "And with Emmett around, you have to scavenge."

"I can imagine." She thought for a second. "Well, if they were to kill me tomorrow, I kind of am in the mood for spaghetti." She shrugged as I chuckled at her choice. "What about you?"

There was only one food on my mind. "I think quesadillas."

Bella didn't respond. Had I said something wrong? I wasn't getting anything right. I should have gone home. I wouldn't have offended her that way. Or maybe I would have, since she wanted me to stay… Why was this so difficult? I couldn't think of a single thing to say.

"Edward?" Bella whispered after a moment.

"Yes?"

"Chicken or steak?"

I smiled so widely it hurt. She was just… perfect. Naturally, innocently, effortlessly….

Bella was just perfect.