Well, it's been a while! One of these days I will stick to a schedule that I've set myself. For now, here's the real chapter 9. For those who enjoyed No Risk Without Reward, it is still up as a separate story and may very well become the home of any other side one-shots that I write in this universe when the main story won't talk to me XD

Chapter 9: Closer

It was a moment that felt like it would last forever. I very much wanted it to; in this space, everything exposed, all the walls gone, I could feel the connection that had always hummed between us, but stronger, purer, without the veil of secrets. We were stood closer than we ever had before, despite his attempts to keep his distance, and the small space of air between us crackled with electricity. I knew that if I reached out and touched his hand, I would feel that spark again, like the first day he spoke to me, what felt like years ago now.

But nothing can really last forever, and like every moment, it had to end.

Edward was the one to break it, looking down and taking half a step back. I thought I heard him sigh ever so slightly.

"I should go," he said, sounding like that was the last thing he wanted to do. "You need your sleep."

"I'm not tired yet," I insisted. "Even Charlie won't be expecting me to go to bed for a while. We could talk some more... if you wanted to." I was desperate for him to stay, pathetically so if I was being honest. It felt like the moment he left my sight, it would all be over, like a dream. I hoped I was interpreting his expression correctly, because I thought it looked like he was happy I didn't want him to leave.

"Do you have more questions?"

"Just a few thousand," I replied, only half joking. "Everything I learn just seems to lead to more of them."

He smiled and held out a hand invitingly. "Then please, ask away."

I crossed the room to sit back on my bed, this time sitting up against my headboard with a pillow behind my back. I secretly hoped that he would sit on the bed this time and tried to give him as much space as I could to do so. For a moment, I thought he might do it; he came and stood right by the foot of the bed, hovering for a moment. In the end though, he merely picked up the blanket I had discarded on the floor, folded it neatly and laid it across the comforter. Then he sat on the floor again, although he stayed right up against the bed, leaning one elbow on the mattress. He was ever so slightly closer than he had been, and my heart rejoiced.

A sudden thought struck me, and my first question came out more tentative than I would have liked, especially with the confidence and assertiveness I had somehow managed to establish in the last few minutes.

"Is there anything I can't ask about? Not things you don't want to tell me – although that's totally your prerogative and feel free to tell me to butt out – more like are there any... I don't know, taboos? Things that are rude or would offend you?"

His smile turned faintly indulgent. "No, nothing like that. There are some things I would rather keep to myself, and of course I'll let you know. I meant what I said earlier, I want to be as honest as I can with you."

"Okay." I nodded. "Well, I guess following on from what we were talking about before, tell me why you chose to hunt animals instead of people."

That made him turn sombre again, which I didn't like at all, but the question was out, and I could only hope the answer let me pull things back in a lighter direction.

"Partly it's upbringing, I suppose you could say. It's the way Carine has been living all her life – her second life, at least. There's an element of personal choice to it too. I don't like causing death and destruction. I don't want to be a monster. But animals aren't always enough."

I tilted my head to the side, trying to connect that idea to something I could understand more easily. "Like when you have a snack instead of a meal and a few hours later you feel sort of hollow?"

Edward chuckled, still darkly, but it was progress and I wasn't about to discount that.

"It's been a while since I've had that experience, so it's hard for me to say," he mused. "I'm not sure that's quite the right comparison. I think it's more like living on tofu and soy milk when you're used to steak and full cream – sustaining but not precisely satisfying." He smirked. "We actually call ourselves vegetarians, a little inside joke in the family. Regardless, it keeps the thirst at bay enough to resist other temptations. With varying levels of difficulty."

He nodded toward me significantly. I felt a blush rising in my cheeks, immediately realising that that was probably the worst possible reaction I could have at this moment and cursing my uncooperative body. Willing the pink to go away quickly, I asked another question.

"Is this difficult for you? Being here, I mean? I don't want you to be uncomfortable."

"It isn't easy," he admitted, somewhat unwillingly. "I'm sure you can imagine how... intense your scent is in here, surrounded by all your possessions, your clothes, your sheets." His hand curled into my comforter, balling it up slightly before releasing it and smoothing the creases out of the fabric. "I can manage it okay though. It's easier the longer I sit here."

I beamed at that. "I'm glad. I don't like the thought of you struggling or hurting when you're around me." That was probably too much to admit, and I felt like there might be another blush coming if he commented on it, so I quickly redirected the conversation. "And you're not hungry today."

Edward looked at me curiously. "How can you tell?"

I shrugged. "Your eyes, and your mood. I have a theory about that, actually."

Now he was amused. "Oh really?"

"Yep," I said with confidence. "You tend to be more relaxed when your eyes are light, and crabbier when they're dark. I've noticed that people, especially boys, are always grumpier when they're hungry." I laughed to myself, remembering a story. "Renée took us on a mini road trip one summer and forgot to stop for lunch, and I've never known Beau in such a bad mood before or since. You should have seen how he devoured dinner that night, it was like he was afraid someone was going to try and steal it from him. Pro tip, never get between my brother and a bacon double cheeseburger."

Edward laughed softly with me, and his laugh washed over me like warm honey. "I'll keep that in mind." Then his look turned contemplative again, assessing me once more as if seeing me for the first time, as if he too was finding out new information tonight. "You are much more observant than I realised."

"Maybe I just pay attention to the important things," I suggested, and he hummed in agreement.

"Were you hunting this weekend with Jasper and your dad?" I asked after a moment of quiet.

"Actually, I was hunting with Eleanor. She's a more... affable companion these days. Nothing fazes her. Earnest is very calming but a little too parental at times, and Jasper..." He cringed slightly. "Let's just say we're not in the best place at the moment."

I frowned. "Can I ask why? Not that it's really any of my business, forget it."

He shook his head firmly. "You can ask. It concerns you, I suppose. At least, it's partly you that's caused it."

That horrified me, and he could clearly tell, because he hurried to reassure me. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, that came out wrong. You haven't done anything except be you."

"Then what's wrong?" I prompted. "You shouldn't be fighting with your family over me." What a concept that was – Edward caring enough to fight about me with anyone.

"It's not like that," he insisted. "Really, it's no worse than when Edythe started seeing Beau. The only difference is I'm on the other side of the argument this time, and I'm getting it a lot heavier from those that disapprove."

I thought I could probably guess who that might be. "Jasper and Rosalie?" When he looked a little startled, I clarified. "Beau said they didn't like him very much, especially Rosalie."

Edward sighed. "Yes, she can be difficult. It all comes from a place of love, and it's not so much that she doesn't like him, she just worries about what he – and now you – could represent. Having humans know about us is a liability, a possible source of exposure and with it, danger. She doesn't like the idea of having to move on and start over again. It's practical, not personal, but her personality and general demeanour means it can come off the wrong way if you don't know her."

"Why are they being harder on you?" I wondered, trying not to read too much into the way he was paralleling us with our romantically attached siblings.

"The van incident," he said with a chagrined smile. "Edythe merely asked a boy to a dance and we pounced on her like lions on a gazelle. After what I did, exposing my abilities so obviously in front of so many people, my brother and sister nearly tore my head off. Even when it was clear only you had seen anything significant, there were a few tense days when we were waiting to see what you would tell people."

"I told you I wouldn't say anything," I reminded him.

"You did," he agreed. "And you kept that promise admirably. Thank you for that, by the way. I don't think I ever properly expressed my gratitude."

I preened just a little at his praise. "You're welcome."

"They do make some good arguments, if I'm being honest," he went on, returning to our current main talking point. "The problem is all that has somehow ceased to matter much to me. Being with you feels much more important."

I definitely liked the sound of that. "And Eleanor is more accepting?"

"Oh, she thinks I'm completely mad, of course, just like the rest of them." He grinned, a new twinkle in his golden eyes. "The difference is that Ellie has always been the sort of person to roll with the punches, so to speak. If her brother and sister have lost their minds and fallen for humans, well, that's just life now, best get on with it. She spent a lot of the last few days making fun of how anxious I was to come back here. Honestly, I didn't want to leave in the first place, but being around you is a little easier if I'm not thirsty."

There was a lot to unpack in what he had just said – not least the many implications of fallen for – so I chose to focus on the part that was least likely to make me start hyperventilating. "What makes you so anxious?"

Edward gave me a look that plainly said that should have been obvious. "Because from my observations, it seems that anything in a ten-mile radius with the potential to cause an accident will somehow manage to find you. Honestly, it seems like a minor miracle that you made it out of this weekend unscathed."

I huffed, slightly affronted. "You know, I'm more than capable of taking care of myself. I've been doing it for the better part of seventeen years."

"Perish the thought," he said, a teasing tone creeping into his voice. Reflexively, I put my foot out and poked his outstretched hand with my big toe, irritation overtaking caution as it so often did with him. As soon as I realised what I'd done, I froze, hoping I hadn't pushed him too far without meaning to. He did stiffen, but then turned toward my door.

"Your father is coming," he murmured. "I really should go."

"Not yet," I begged, only slightly ashamed to be pleading with him. He looked genuinely torn for a moment, but then even I could hear Charlie's footsteps outside the door and Edward had disappeared. I did my best to compose myself so my father wouldn't be suspicious. It didn't work; my heart had plummeted, and I could feel my eyes watering.

There was a soft tap at the door then the creak of the hinges as Charlie cracked it open and peeked in.

"You heading to bed, Bells?" he asked, the picture of parental concern. "It's getting kind of late."

I glanced at my nightstand, surprised to see that he was right. I'd come up not long after seven and it was now pushing nine thirty, past the time I normally got ready for bed.

"Sorry Dad, I got distracted." I patted the book on my bedside table, glad that I had one there as usual and hoping he wouldn't notice that I hadn't had my nose buried in it when he looked in. "I'll jump in the bathroom now."

I got up and grabbed my wash bag and a set of pyjamas. Charlie backed out of my doorway to let me pass and retreated to his own bedroom, wishing me goodnight. I brushed my teeth and changed as quickly as I could, my heart starting to pound. Every moment I was away was a moment for Edward to change his mind, to decide he shouldn't stay, to be far away from here before I even knew he was gone – assuming he hadn't left already, of course. I was so focused on getting back to my room before that happened, I didn't notice my brother waiting outside the bathroom and ploughed straight into him.

"Gah!" I yelped as he grabbed the tops of my arms to steady me. As usual, this just made both of us wobble, but we stabilised quickly.

"How's it going?" Beau asked softly, glancing furtively down the landing to make sure we weren't being overheard by Charlie.

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "The mood keeps changing, he's talking about leaving but I don't want him to go yet."

"Just take it slow. There's no rush, Bella."

I just shook my head, unable to explain just how wrong he was. I had to take advantage of every moment I had – who knew when another bid to save my life would result in a second spontaneous trip to Alaska, perhaps more extended this time?

Beau gave me a short, sharp hug, then pushed me gently back towards my room. "Go on then, Little Miss Anxious. As long as you don't forget, he can't actually stay in your room forever. Believe me, I've tried having that argument."

I sighed heavily. "Don't remind me. Goodnight, Beau."

"Goodnight, little sister," came the cheeky reply.

I just rolled my eyes and threw, "Two minutes!" over my shoulder. Beau laughed, and Charlie's door cracked open.

"Beau, leave you sister alone and get yourself ready for bed."

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"Stop that, you goofball. Come on, you have school tomorrow."

I closed the door on the boys, smiling at Beau's silliness. Even when he wasn't trying to, my brother still managed to lift my spirits.

"What's in two minutes?"

I whirled, finding Edward seated calmly in the rocking chair in the corner of my room. I had barely begun to panic, but the relief that he was still here was dizzying all the same.

"I thought you'd left," I breathed.

"You asked me not to," he said simply, as if that was all it took. If only. "Are you going to answer the question?"

I shook my head and smiled. "There's nothing in two minutes. It's just something I do when he calls me his little sister – I remind him I'm only two minutes younger."

"Oh, I see." Edward tipped his head slightly sideways, like he was trying to figure out a puzzle.

I sat down on the end of my bed. "Don't you do silly things like that with your siblings?"

"We don't really have that kind of relationship," he admitted, sounding regretful. "Eleanor teases a lot, but that's about it, and it's more annoying than anything else. I must admit, I've always wondered if twins really are more closely bonded than other siblings."

I rolled my eyes. "Not you too. You better not ask me if I can tell when he hurts himself or gets sick or something."

Edward chuckled. "Alright, I won't. I do miss that kind of camaraderie though. It's a little different after a decade or two."

"Did you have brothers and sisters growing up?"

"Just Edythe. That part of our cover story is true, she's really my biological sister. I only have vague memories of my childhood, but I seem to recall an inside joke or two that has been lost to the ages."

I opened my mouth to ask how they had both come to be part of the Cullen family, but the words were swallowed by a massive yawn. I was apparently more tired than if thought.

"Alright, now even I know you need to sleep," Edward insisted.

I sighed but gave in, crawling under my covers. Then I looked back at him, comfortable and unmoving in the rocking chair. The sensation of being observed was distinct, reminding me of earlier in the back yard, and a thought suddenly struck me.

"Have you been watching me today?"

He fidgeted; the motion looked odd coming from him.

"Will you be terribly angry if I say I've been watching since last night? And that it isn't the first time?"

Horror swept over me at the realisation of what twenty-four hours of observation might have provided him with. Namely...

"Please tell me you haven't heard me sleep talking."

He made a face. "I promised to be honest..."

"Oh god!" I buried my face in my hands, feeling the heat as it blazed red. I knew I talked in my sleep from time to time – Beau had teased me about it enough over the years – but given the dreams I'd been having for the last few months, there was a high chance Edward had heard something so completely beyond embarrassing that there wasn't even a word for it.

"I won't do it again if you don't want me to," Edward said. "But, if I'm being honest, staying away from you is becoming increasingly difficult. My mind can't help concocting nightmares about what awful things could happen to you when I'm not around."

My embarrassment faded into something like sadness. When I peeked through my fingers at him, he looked like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

"It's the same for me, you know," I said softly, hoping that it would make him feel just a little better. "I get anxious when I don't know where you are too."

It was apparently the wrong thing to say, because he looked sadder than ever at my admission. "That's what I'm afraid of."

I hated this roller-coaster we'd apparently started ourselves on, one moment joking and laughing, the next intense and melancholy. I was drained, emotionally and now physically too. At least for a few hours, it was time to get off the ride. Still, I couldn't help holding on just a few precious minutes more.

"Will you stay a little while longer tonight? At least until I fall asleep?"

He considered for a moment, then nodded. "I can do that. Is there anything I can do to help facilitate the process? I imagine my sitting here staring at you wouldn't be terribly conducive to feeling restful."

I thought about it for a minute, then picked up the book from the nightstand – my Austen collection, I realised belatedly – and held it out to him. He stood and crossed the room to fetch it, carefully not letting our hands touch, then returned to the rocking chair. I lay down and pulled the covers up to my chin, curling on my side and watching as he flicked through the pages.

"It is a truth universally acknowledged," he began, his rich voice hugging the words like plush velvet, "that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife."

I closed my eyes, a hint of a smile brushing my lips at his choice of novel, and let the words wash over me. I thought back to Beau reading earlier and my impromptu nap; this was a very different scenario, despite the surface similarities. Although his presence and my hyper-attention to it did make me feel more awake, Edward's voice was a thousand times more potent than my brother's, and I was sure he was barely at the end of the first page when I drifted into the comfortable warmth of dreamless unconsciousness.