Chapter Eight

Willow's POV

We drive for a while, and I see the sun just begin to appear over the horizon. "Can you be in sunlight?" I ask, remembering that he had been gone some days when it was sunny, as were his siblings.

"Yes, but- I'll just show you," he says. "It doesn't...hurt us, it just-yeah, I'll just show you."

"Okay," I say, feeling again nervous and excited at the same time. Eventually, he drives off onto a dirt side road and stops the car where the road meets the forest.

"We walk from here," he says, and I get out. I've never really gone hiking before, because Arizona is mostly flat and scorching hot, and I tell him so.

"Just watch your step," he says, walking into the shade of the trees just as the sunlight hits the little road.

We walk, me tripping over every little stick and tree root, eventually to the point where he holds my hand as we walk. "Are you always this clumsy?" he asks.

"I trip over air itself," I say sheepishly. "Bella was always the graceful one. We found that out when our mother put us in ballet classes and I always fell down during the recitals. One time, I took out three girls with me," I say.

He laughs. "I see what you meant when you said you couldn't dance."

"Yeah," I say.

"You like music at least, though?" he says, and I nod.

"Yeah, I like anything with a piano," I say. "I took lessons when I was a kid, but I wasn't very good. I wanted to play so bad, but my fingering was too clumsy."

"I could play you something," he says.

"You play?" I ask.

"I have to do something all night," he says. "Although, lately I've been preoccupied with you."

I'm about to answer when I see it. It's the most beautiful meadow I've ever seen. It's bathed in warm golden sunlight like I haven't seen in weeks, and has wildflowers everywhere. I walk into it slowly, letting the sunlight play off my hair and the warmth of it wash over my body.

"It's-it's so beautiful," I say, turning back, but he stays back in the shadows. "C'mon, whatever it is, it's not as weird as this," I say, letting the ebbing power I've felt the entire time we were walking flow up through me. It's like he triggers it or something. I feel it every time I'm with him, but I don't mention it, hoping it will go away. I let the blue energy form a ball between my hands, focusing on keeping it small and stable.

That gets him to walk out into the meadow, distracted by the glowing ball of pure energy in my hands. I gasp, and the ball dissipates with a wisp of blue smoke. Every inch of his skin is glittering like a thousand diamonds. "Woah," I breathe, taking his shining hand. "This is...incredible," I say, running my fingers along his hand.

"You got your blue light under control," he says.

"Yeah, just barely," I say faintly.

"Stand still, I want to try something," he says. He carefully puts his shining arms around me, wrapping me in a cold embrace. I suppose even a simple gesture like this must be very hard for his self-control. I carefully hug him back, laying my head on his shoulder.

"Gets easier every day," he mutters, more to himself than to me. I shift my head, just the slightest bit, and he lets go, moving so fast I don't even see it over to the other side of the meadow, just out of the sunlight so the diamonds fade from his skin.

"I'm sorry," I say. "Did I do something? Whatever it is, I'll try not to do it again."

He walks out, his face in a kind of twist of agony. "Willow, I don't understand. You didn't do anything wrong. Why do you blame yourself, when it's my problem?" He stares at the ground. "You don't deserve this, you deserve so much better than me. You deserve someone normal."

I walk over to him, giving him a respectful distance. "I know it sounds cliche, but I don't want anybody normal. I want you. I love you," I say. "I get if you don't feel the same about me, I mean, I'm nobody, really, and according to most people, you're too good for-"

"I love you, too, Willow," he says, and takes my hand. For now, that's all I need. "She was beautiful, but not like those girls in the magazines. She was beautiful, for the way she thought. She was beautiful, for the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved. She was beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile, even if she was sad. No, she wasn't beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. She was beautiful, deep down to her soul. She is beautiful," he says. "I meant it when I said I don't have a favorite book, but I am partial to F. Scott Fitzgerald. And Willow, you are all those things. I've been forced to delve into the minds of so many people over all these years, and even though I can't read yours, it has to be the most pure mind I've ever come across."

I'm speechless. "You're incredible, too," I whisper, carefully laying my head against his shoulder again. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

We spend the better part of the afternoon in that meadow, our perfect little safe haven. We don't talk much, but it's a knowledgeable silence. We're just grateful to be in each other's company.

Just as the sun begins to set, he puts his arm over my shoulder, and I feel him pin a wildflower into my braid. "Just like your painting," he says, and I smile.

"Although, you have to go, don't you?" he says. I nod, knowing Charlie will be getting back from his fishing trip soon and Bella has been alone all day.

He gets up and offers me his hand. I take it, not looking forward to the hike back. Going back now feels like returning from a magical land. A paradise, if you will.

He walks to the edge of the forest, and then a real grin comes across his face. "Care to run back to the car?" he asks.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Climb on," he says, and I climb onto his back.

"I'm not exactly the same weight as your average backpack," I say, but he just laughs. And then we are flying. I close my eyes, mildly motion sick and scared.

"Willow?" he says, once the flying has stopped. "We're here."

I carefully ease myself off of him, slightly overbalanced, and he catches me. "Are you alright?" he asks, his face inches from mine.

"Yes," I breathe.

"Good," he says, and then: "Hold still."

I do, and then his lips meet mine. I feel my blood boil, and reach up to knot my fingers through his hair. He pulls back, and my eyes fly open. "Sorry," I say sheepishly.

He only laughs and leads me over to the car. "Don't apologize."

We start to drive back, him holding my hand and driving with the other. This time, he keeps his speed around eighty. "I've been meaning to ask you, how did you...become a vampire? How does that work? Is it like in the movies, or is it something completely different?"

"I was born in 1901 in Chicago," he says. "I mean, I suppose I lived a completely normal life for a person like me. But, as you know, there was a flu pandemic in 1918. My father had already died in the war along with hundreds of other people, and this killed my mother and nearly killed me, but Carlisle he...saved me. I don't actually remember much, except the pain. Lots and lots of pain. Everything burning until I wished to die. And then...this. A burning, awful thirst, and everything in sharp and perfect color. Everything moving extraordinarily fast and yet slow at the same time." He stops talking. "That's it, I suppose."

"Do you have to be dying to become a vampire?" I ask, now intrigued.

"No, no necessarily. That's just the way that Carlisle did things."

"Would you consider...changing me?"

"Never. I wouldn't do this to you," he says quietly, and I can tell I should drop the subject.

"Earlier, in the woods, you said that you would play the piano for me. Did you mean, maybe, I could see your home?"

He smiles. "If you'd like. My family would like to meet you," he says. "How's tomorrow?"

I shrug. "Of course. I hope they'll like me."

He laughs again, a real one this time. "You're walking into an entire house full of vampires and you're worried if they'll like you or not? Trust me, you have nothing to worry about."

He pulls into Charlie's driveway. "Um, would you like to come in?" I ask. "Charlie's probably having dinner at a friend's house, and Bella won't bother us too much."

"I'd love to," he says, and gets out. I'm about to open my door when he's there already, holding it open.

"I'm never going to get used to that," I say, getting out and taking my bag with me. We walk into the kitchen of Charlie's house. He takes a seat at the tiny table, and he looks strangely out of place there; too nice-looking compared to the shabbiness of the rest of the house.

I hear a creak on the stairs, and then Bella starts talking. "Oh, hey, Willow, how was your-" she stops when she reaches the bottom of the stairs. She's dressed in sweatpants and has her hair up in a messy bun. "Uh, hi," she says to Edward. She walks up to me and whispers in my ear. "What is he doing here?"

I smirk, because I know he can hear her anyway. "Bella, it's fine. I'm just getting some dinner." I open the freezer while she nervously sits down across from him.

"Is lasagna okay, Bella? It's all we have, and I don't want fish."

"Yeah, that's fine," she says nervously, and I put it in the microwave, sitting down next to Edward.

"Bella, calm down, he doesn't bite," I say, and he smiles.

"Yes, Bella, I really don't," he says. Dinner is quiet, mostly because Bella seems really apprehensive and I can't really talk to Edward with her here. He doesn't eat, of course, claiming that he'll eat later when Bella asks him if he wants anything. She's probably surprised that I didn't offer my own boyfriend dinner, but I only didn't out of reflex.

After dinner, Bella goes back up to her room and I bid Edward goodbye, walking to mine. I flick on the light, and see him sitting on the windowsill, the window open. "So this is how you get in," I say. "I thought the window stuck when you tried to open it."

"Not for me," he says, climbing in and walking over to me, putting his arms around me.

I claim that I need a few moments to be human, and walk down the hall to the bathroom, showering and pulling on the nicest sweatpants that I own and my least ratty t-shirt, carefully brushing out my wet hair and putting my glasses on. I walk back to find him sitting on the bed like he owns the place, and I can't help but laugh.

We sit and talk quietly until I hear Charlie come in the door. When he comes upstairs, however, Edward only hides just behind the closet door as I tell Charlie goodnight, and I give him bland details about my day, such as that I read and did some homework, and Bella did just about the same. Edward comes back to the bed and sits there with me, humming some lullaby until I fall asleep in his cold arms.