My thoughts weren't any clearer when it came to Edward and the Cullens, but that didn't stop me from anticipating the time I spent with him. The questions continued over the lunches that followed. Any and everything from the things I liked and disliked, my childhood, favorite memories, and what I did in my spare time. It was as if he wanted me to tell him all the thoughts and feelings he couldn't see himself.

He spent so much time asking about me I didn't get much about Edward or his family in return. Edward seemed far too interested in my life to spare any details about his. When I pointed out the one-way street our conversations were on, he gave me one of his dazzling smiles and claimed that it was his turn until the weekend.

This only increased my anticipation for the weekend. So of course the week seemed to drag on far too long.

Saturday dawned in Forks' typical gray fashion. The sunlight strained to reach the small town through a layer of clouds. But for the first time in a while, the clouds that sailed across the sky were delicate and thin. It looked as if Edward's promise of good weather was on track to becoming true.

Apart from his promise of answering a few of my own questions about himself and his family, I kept his plans for a hike in mind as I readied for the day. Thankfully, my wardrobe was nothing if not backwoods friendly. Old jeans and t-shirts were the norm, with one of my longer flannels to protect my arms from any stray branches. It also concealed both my gun and the machete. The last item was the scarf Alice had loaned me slipped into my pocket. My neck was better, good enough that I could give it to Edward to return to her.

After I was dressed, hair pulled into another simple ponytail and nothing but a light layer of eyeliner for makeup, I texted Edward to ask where we should meet. Thankfully, Edward responded within moments, asking me to give him an hour.

I passed the first half hour of that wait with breakfast. Afterwards, apart from homework, the only thing to pass the time was the television downstairs. I figured I had the rest of the weekend to do the former. Both my brothers were up and already watching a movie by the time I met them in the living room. Not wanting to field any questions from Dean, I kept my phone in my pocket rather than checking the time every ten minutes like I wanted.

Several commercials in, I was waiting for my phone to vibrate when the doorbell rang.

Dean was the first to stand. Sam and I stayed in our respective seats. Dean pulled the door open, and after a short observation of the visitor concealed beyond the threshold from my own sights, offered a curious, "Yes?"

My pulse quickened at the unmistakable voice answering, "Hello. You must be Dean. I'm Edward Cullen."

Dean's shoulders picked up as his chest expanded. His profile went from polite curiosity to diamond-hard distrust. Head tilting down, Dean's brows dropped to neanderthal levels.

"I'm here to pick up Sarah."

"You are." At Dean's flat-toned reply, I fought to keep the fear now spreading through my chilling blood from showing.

I could hear the smile in Edward's answer. "Yes. I promised to take her hiking today."

"You did."

Sam mouthed the word busted at me. My glare bounced right off his smug smile. But Sam wasn't the brother I needed to worry about.

I rose out of the recliner, a vague notion of interjecting myself between the two before Dean could wonder overmuch at Edward's pale complexion. I hadn't even made it halfway across the room when Dean glanced my way. His sights were hard as emeralds and as clear to read. He was not happy. "I haven't heard anything about this."

I was almost grateful for the presumption. Hackles rising, I latched onto my irritation like a lifeline from the swiftly rising sea of fear threatening to drown me. "I'm sorry," I said, sounding anything but as I reached his side. "I didn't know my every move was your business."

With Edward standing at the threshold, Dean couldn't fire back the words waiting behind his pinched mouth. He settled for an unamused side-eye.

"I'll have her home before dinner," Edward went on, still playing polite and dumb.

Dean folded his arms across his chest. "Which park?"

"Olympic." In his button up shirt covered by a blue cardigan, Edward was the definition of clean-cut. Not that his appearance would sooth Dean's obviously ruffled feathers. Edward looked better suited to star in the latest Abercrombie and Fitch ad than a hike through the woods.

"Pretty big, isn't it?" Dean's head tilted lower. He wasn't wrong. The state park was huge—one of the largest in the country.

"Someone's always hiking the trails," Edward replied smoothly. "They're popular year-round. Especially during the weekend."

The unsaid promise of keeping to the public paths seemed to marginally placate Dean. Some of the tension leaked from his shoulders.

Even so, it was like trying to move a stubborn bull as I shoved against his arm. I'd probably have more luck with the bull. "See you later," I said, managing to slip past his guardianship of the door.

Dean frowned but couldn't exactly reach out and grab me. I hurried to Edward's side at the top of the concrete steps then moved past. As I stepped down, I heard the scrape of Edward's shoes as he turned to follow—after a polite, "Goodbye."

"No later than seven!" Dean insisted behind us as we headed down the sidewalk for Edward's Volvo. The silver car was parked behind the Impala.

I lifted a hand in acknowledgement, heart still pounding as if we were making some grand escape. If I got Edward out of this without sparking Dean's suspicions, we would have.

It wasn't until we were both in the car, now easing out of the drive and down the street—Dean still guarding the doorway—that I started to think we'd managed it. Maybe.

Edward waited until we rounded the corner to speed up. By the time we'd cleared Dean's sights, my dread dissipated.

Anger was quick to take its place, burning away the chill in my blood. "I can't believe you did that."

Edward stared ahead as the Volvo sped out onto the main road.

His silence was like an accelerant. The heat running beneath my skin turned molten. "If you think your safe from Dean because he's young, you're wrong." In most families, Sam would have been the prodigal son. Not ours. Dean had taken to hunting like a duck to water.

"If you won't take your safety seriously, I will." There wasn't even the vaguest hint of an apologetic tone to his words, only certainty.

"But your safety isn't important," I shot back.

Edward finally glanced my way. The same surety in his words filled his gaze. "I'm not the one in danger today."

"I can look after myself," I insisted.

The skepticism on Edward's face kept my temper burning bright enough to incinerate any words I might've shared during the drive as he raced down the interstate. Fuming in silence, I took to watching the landscape.

Winter had begun easing into Spring, but the trees around Forks stayed green no matter the season. They stretched towards the ever-thinning clouds as if they wished to scrape the sky. Beyond was only shadow and the promise of more woods.

Despite riding down a highway, this far from the coast and into the forests there wasn't much in the way of traffic. The road was largely two-lane, and it was a testament to its isolation that Edward could keep up his insane hundred-and-ten miles an hour pace without having to slow for anyone else. He simply glided around the occasional car or semi-truck, never a worry about oncoming traffic.

His insane speeding cut down the time of the trip considerably. The sign for Olympic State Park appeared not long into the drive. The miles flew by. And then he passed the main entrance into the park.

I twisted as it passed before turning to speak to him for the first time since leaving the house. "I thought we were going to Olympic?"

I was a little worried as his eyes left the road to glance at me. "We are. But we aren't using the public entrance."

My brows pinched together, the first fission of concern leaking through my irritation. "So we're not taking the public trails?"

Edward waited a moment before saying, "No." He glanced away from the road to meet my sights as he said, "Technically, I never told your brother we were." Recalling his words to Dean earlier, I realized he was right. He'd only said the trails were popular year-round, not that we'd be hiking them ourselves. Edward's sights moved back to the road as he added, "I'll have to be out of sight by the time the sky clears."

I took in the gray clouds overhead. Already patches of sunlight were breaking through the sparse cloud cover, casting great beams of yellow sunshine in the distance. "Will you catch on fire?"

Edward smirked. "No." That smirk fell a moment before he added, "You'll see why for yourself soon enough."

I quieted at that ominous bit of assurance. It was another fifteen minutes before Edward finally turned off the highway—onto a small road that looked as if the only vehicles to ever come down this way were the park ranger's. The Volvo bounced over the many dips and cracks in the poorly maintained concrete. Edward didn't seem overly concerned for the state of his struts, though he did slow to a mere sixty.

Finally we reached the end of the road. Literally. It cut off rather suddenly, without even much room to turn around. Edward pulled off to as much side as the heavily wooded area left him before rolling to a stop and cutting the engine.

He kept facing forward. "You can still change your mind," he said quietly. "Take the car back to Forks."

"You promised answers," I reminded him. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't the slightest bit worried. Edward kept talking about this trip as if it were a one-way ticket for me. But beyond the machete I carried, I had Edward's weird protectiveness that usually only ticked me off to reassure me.

I pushed open the door and stepped out.

The woods were alive. The canopy rustled with every brush of wind. Beyond, I could hear the call of crickets deeper within the forest. The grass at the roadside grew long and wild, scraping up against my jean-clad knees as I stepped around the car.

Beyond the windshield, Edward's brows pinched together, his mouth stiffening. Before I could identify the emotion behind his sudden tension, he exited the car. I struggled to keep my heartrate steady as he pulled the cardigan over his head and left it folded on the driver's seat. His expression was once again clear by the time he joined me in his simpler button up shirt. "This way."

There was no path. The undergrowth was thick with dead branches that cracked underfoot, crinkling needles, and hard-packed dirt. The ground was littered with exposed roots, pinecones, and stray rocks. I breathed in the thick undertone of loam and earth that lingered beneath the sharper, cleaner scent of evergreens. Moss wound around the imposing firs that grew unimpeded around us. The trees creaked as their tops swayed with the wind.

Edward stayed at my side the whole way, guiding our progress between the firs. His hand hovered near my side, and several times it twitched towards me whenever I stepped on a rock that tipped to the side or encountered a log too long to walk around that I'd have to climb over. But my footing was careful and certain despite the uneven, spongy forest floor. I didn't need to be caught.

The light that managed to make it through the thick canopy glowed that ephemeral green. After the first twenty minutes of our trek, I noticed it was lightening. Sunshine slipped through in bright patches. Edward stepped around these.

We were more than an hour into the trek, and the sky had lightened to the point where Edward kept close to the massive trunks and their protective shade. He had to hold branches aside for me rather than walk the clearer areas where dappled sunlight danced across the forest floor.

Soon there were even fewer trees as the woods began to thin. Edward was having a harder time staying to the shadows. Ahead, I could make out a break in the woods. Some forty feet away was a curtain of bright light drenching the last of the trees in sunshine.

Edward's pace had slowed. Keeping to his side, I felt my earlier concern overwhelm my sense. He'd been so insistent of the threat to me, I took his hesitance as a reluctance to expose me to danger. Now I wondered if some of it wasn't born of his own fears. "Are you sure about this?"

It took a moment before Edward meet my gaze. Uncertainty lurked in his bright golden stare. "Yes." His sights turned to the sundrenched trees ahead of us again. "You need to see."

Worry and curiosity warred within me. Edward was clearly reluctant about doing this, and I didn't think it was wholly for reasons of my safety. I didn't like to see him so hesitant. And after a moment, I realized it was nerves I was seeing in the usually certain vampire.

Without thinking too much about it, I grabbed the hand that still lingered near me. The sudden cold was almost as surprising as the shocked glance from Edward. I almost let his hand go. Not because of the strange chill, but because now I was the uncertain one. Maybe he wouldn't want to hold the warm hand of a human.

But after a long, considering stare, his fingers slowly curled around the underside of my hand. I allowed him to pull us along at his own pace.

However, as we reached the tree line, beyond which I could see slender slices of what looked to be a large natural clearing between the trees, Edward dropped my hand. He lingered by one of the last of the large firs, a tree so ancient it was wider than both of us standing side by side. He stayed in its dark shadow and nodded towards the clearing beyond.

A ring of ferns separated the forest from the meadow. They whispered against my jeans as I pressed my way through and emerged into the sun-drenched grasses.

The grass here was hip-high and seeded with all colors of wildflowers. White daisies and light purple checkerblooms swayed beside pink buds of pepper grass. Sagebrush rubbed up against a spattering of shrubs. Bees hovered above goldenrods and butterflies lazed atop larkspurs dripping blue bell-shaped blossoms.

I'd held my breath as I'd first emerged, but as I breathed, I inhaled the scent of flowers and clean air. I wandered further afield, hands outstretched to feel the tickle of the tallgrass. My fingertips drifted over the petals of a whole patch of wild daisies.

It took a moment to remember why I had wandered into this small bit of paradise. I looked around, seeking Edward, wanting to share the moment with him.

He was still standing in the shadow of the giant fir.

I paused and fully turned to face him. I'd wandered dozens of feet into the wildflowers. I paused, anticipation growing as I wondered what it was that kept him in the shadow.

Edward moved slowly. First, lifting his hands to his neck, unbuttoning his collar, followed by the first of several buttons. The action confused me, especially as he then turned to undo the buttons that kept his cuffs done and wound each sleeve up the sculpted muscles of his lower arms. As he lowered his hands to his sides, he shared a final look with me, and then began to walk forward.

Even as the first gleam of sunlight hit his skin, I wasn't sure what I was seeing. Not until he was fully drenched in the meadow's warm golden light.

For a moment, as my brain struggled for a logical explanation, I thought maybe he'd covered himself in body glitter. But no. The prisms of light glinting of the pale skin were too multifaceted, to brilliant to be glitter. Not unless that glitter were made of millions of small diamonds embedded into his sparkling skin.

I'd often thought Edward was as perfect as a statue, but it was always cold, white marble I'd pictured. In the light of day, he was anything but cold. He almost looked on fire as the sunlight gleamed yellow and orange off the patches of exposed skin. I would catch a flash of red, or blue, or purple amid the whites and yellows.

I struggled to find something to say as he stood several feet from me, sparkling. It was clear why he and his family left when the clouds that perpetually hovered over Forks occasionally cleared. There was no way he would blend in with the rest of the human population. Not with his skin refracting the light into thousands of rainbows, as if he were made from diamond.

And here I'd thought he couldn't look any more beautiful.

But it was clear he was uncomfortable. His chin was tucked low, his eyes drawn away off to the side. For the first time, I saw an awkwardness to his stance. It was still perfectly correct and tall, but not quite proud. More like stiff.

I realized I was gawking at him. I closed my mouth and forced my sights away from Edward's sparkling skin to the wildflowers. They were suddenly much duller than they'd been a moment before. Burdened with the curse of being too ordinary.

I peeked up to the still glittering vampire. He hadn't moved any closer, but his head was back up, his eyes focused on me.

I fully met his stare again.

"What are you thinking?" his voice was soft—but there was no mistaking the pleading in his question.

"That you look uncomfortable," I answered honestly.

He stared for a moment before muttering, "I look nothing like a human, and you wonder at my comfort?"

"Well. I noticed that too," I replied, feeling somewhat lame after the words were out. When he said nothing in response, I moved a few steps towards him, as if I were approaching an unfamiliar cat or dog. Trying not to spook him with any sudden movements.

He watched my approach with that same utter stillness that made me wonder if he were breathing. When I was nearly back to the edge of meadow, he held up a hand, a pained expression back on his face. I stopped.

"I need a moment," he asked, sounding stressed.

"Alright." I wondered if the sunlight wasn't painful after all. "Is it the sun? Does it hurt?"

He looked surprised at the question. "No." After a moment, he said, "Your hair's up."

"Yeah." I guessed it was my turn to be confused.

He cast a bitter smile at me. "Normally your hair is covering your neck. And with the sunlight—I can see your arteries clearer."

My eyes widened in sudden understanding. "Oh." I swallowed. "I didn't want it in the way during the hike."

That bitterness in Edward's smile seemed to spread to his whole being.

Making sure each movement was exaggerated, I slowly reached up and slid the tie holding my hair up free. My hair tumble back down, landing on my shoulders. Concealing my neck.

Edward's nostril's flared and the pained grimace was back before he smoothed it away. His smile did seem a bit easier as he nodded at me. "Just… give me a moment."

"Okay."

He walked around me and then further out into the meadow. His skin throwing refracted rainbows onto the tall grass and flowers around him as he went. He stopped in the center, sitting cross-legged onto the ground. He settled into that perfect, statuesque stillness.

Uncertain, I waited, watching the way he sparkled. How the plants around him glittered. Finally, after a bit of time passed, I approached with cautious, slow steps. It would have been sneaking up on anyone else, but I knew Edward would hear each footstep whisper through the grass. When I was nearer to him, I settled down and folded my legs beneath each other.

We were quiet. Edward doing nothing but sitting, still, but for the gradual rise and fall of his chest. His brow was furrowed, as if he were concentrating. I sat beside him, listening to the wind rustle the tall grass and the fir trees further off surrounding us. I watched Edward sparkle, entranced by the way the light shattered into a dozen different, shifting colors where it hit his skin.

After a time, Edward unlocked his legs and settled back into the grass, laying on his back. An arm supported his head. His brow more relaxed.

I continued to study him, wondering if the danger was really as great as he'd made it out to be. I hadn't been sure what to expect before he'd stepped into the meadow—something grotesque, maybe. Something monstrous.

Edward was anything but.

I felt myself relax as I watched the light reflect off him. After a moment, I realized his lips were moving, and that he was speaking—albeit to fast and soft for me to make out what he was saying. "What was that?"

Edward's strange litany stopped. At a more human volume he said, "Just singing to myself."

"What?"

"Different songs I've heard throughout the years."

His reply emboldened me. I leaned forward, anxious to learn more. I reached out towards his hand, watching the dancing colors and light reflect off my skin the closer I grew to his. Carefully I settled the tip of a finger against the back of his wrist.

Edward didn't move. He didn't speak, either, not in words or in his strange, light-speed singing.

I let the chill of his skin absorb into mine. It was so strange. Smooth, but there was no give beneath my finger. Not exactly hard as diamond. It was flesh, but firm. After a minute, when his skin had warmed to my temperature, I carefully traced over his wrist bones, up his third metacarpal, all the way to his knuckle. "Amazing," I murmured

When I looked away from his hand, I saw his eyes were open again and watching my face. "I don't frighten you?"

Fear was the last of the confusing jumble of emotions I felt towards Edward now. "No," I replied. I traced to the next knuckle that connected his ring finger and followed the bones back to his wrist. "Is this alright?"

Edward's answer was an immediate, "Yes." After a moment, he added, "You can't imagine how that feels."

My cheeks warmed, but I didn't pull away. I continued tracing the back of his hand, sketching nonsensical patterns into the glittering skin.

"Tell me what you're thinking?" Edward stared intently at me before slowly sitting up. His hand remained pressed against the ground, my finger free to stay. "Its still so strange, not knowing."

"I'm just… enjoying the way your skin sparkles." The heat in my face grew, beating out the heat of the sun.

"It doesn't repulse you?" He wondered.

My eyes widened in surprise. "No." I blinked as his earlier reluctance and nervousness began to make a sad sort of sense. "You thought it would?"

Edward's sights shifted to where my finger laid against his hand. "It is the most obvious sign of my inhumanity."

"That's—true," I acknowledged. At the sign of sadness that shadowed his eyes, I hurried to add, "But I think it's beautiful." My heart pounded with every word. It was difficult to hold his eyes. I had to look away. "Now I'm wondering what you're thinking." I tried keeping my tone light.

"I'm happy you're not afraid of me," he said softly.

His confession eased my embarrassment. I looked up, realizing how close his face was to mine. My heartbeat picked up as I stared at his beautiful face, now sparkling in the sunlight. The feel of his hand beneath mine as I allowed the rest of it to settle atop his. He studied me with the same intensity, as if I were the magical one. My lips parted slightly, face lifting towards his as I leaned forward.

His eyes darkened, and his free hand took hold of the back of my head. He leaned forward to meet me, his own lips parting.

His mouth kept opening, stretching impossibly wide. Shining white teeth gleaming with saliva angled towards my neck.

I moved. Faster than I thought possible.

But not as fast as Edward. I'd barely slashed out before he was just… gone.

I was still, sitting among the flowers with eyes wide open, breathing fast and hard. The machete seemed to hover in front of me, as if mine wasn't the hand holding it up.

Some of the dried blood was gone, rubbed away.

Beyond the blade, Edward. All the way across the meadow, standing back in the shadow of the trees. One of his arms—the one that had held my head maybe—hung limply at his side. But it was still attached.

My eyes rounded. "Edward?" I asked, voice trembling.

From across the meadow, just loud enough to hear, "A moment. Please."

Somehow, I managed to make my legs move. I unlocked them, forcing myself to stand. The machete fell to my side. "Are you okay?"

He kept his distance.

Was he hurt? Or just scared of me?

I thought of the moment he'd leaned in. My reaction—no conscious thought to it. I felt ill. The blade in my hand suddenly too heavy. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

After another moment that stretched on too long, Edward began to cross the space between us. I couldn't help but notice how he held onto his other arm. For a second, a crazy second, I wondered if he was holding his arm in place. But the closer he came, the more I could see he was merely supporting it.

There was no blood. Just a deep slash in his shirt sleeve, about halfway through the arm, and the fabric hung limply apart. His exposed bicep sparkled in the sunlight. His eyes were sad, though, not wide and terrified.

He stopped several feet from me. I could just make out the faint line in his arm. Like a crack. It was bone deep.

I felt sick.

The machete dropped from my fingers. I moved forward, reaching in my pocket for the scarf Alice had gifted me before I'd hurt her brother.

I couldn't meet his eyes as I wrapped the scarf around his arm, where the cut had sliced clean through his diamond flesh. The scarf covered the evidence of the harm I'd caused him, but I still felt ill. My head hung low as I stepped back.

I opened my mouth, intending to say another apology, when Edward beat me to it. "I am so sorry, Sarah."

It startled me enough to look up and see the regret haunting his eyes.

We stood several feet apart, hunter and vampire, as the flowers danced around us.