I do not own Twilight.

I was absolutely blown away by the amount of reviews I received after my last post. You guys honestly make me want to write as much as I do. I love you all, so here is a little something to hold you over.

Junior year, high school: October

The wind hammering against my window makes the dark tan blinds clash against the edge of the window pane, but the sound is but a whisper in the back of my mind as Edward's body warms mine despite the chill to the night air.

His lips move over mine like a whisper in the dark and I hold him to me, keeping his head, his face, his mouth against me. He wore his cap here, but I pushed it off to weave my fingers through his soft hair. I marveled at the show of the aptly named 'hat-hair' and how it looked amazingly sexy on Edward, as everything does.

His lips break from mine and he glances away from me for a moment to stare at my half open window.

"I should have closed that," he murmurs, but I lift my head from my pillow and swallow his words and reciprocating groan.

"But then you'd have to leave my bed," I whisper as a contradiction and I can feel him grinning against my mouth.

"Touché," he says.

He's careful not to push me too far as he is every time he sneaks into my room after hours. And every time it turns into a heated make out session and, every time, I want more even if I don't exactly know what more is.

Obviously, I know more includes nakedness and touching and his mouth on me other places and a part of his body (the one I can always feel pressing against me when we're like this. The one that terrified me the first time I felt it pressing against my thigh) inside of a part on my body, but other than that, other than the basic facts of sex, I am clueless.

Clueless and skill-less.

I mean, Edward was my first real kiss.

"Stop thinking."

I gasp as Edward presses his thumb a little harder into my waist, bringing me back to the present. He's smiling when I blink up at him and I blush.

"I do that too much, huh?" I ask, embarrassed. If only he knew what I was thinking about.

He lifts to press a kiss to either side of my mouth and then moves off of me, sitting on the edge of my bed and looking around the blankets. I look to the left of me and grin, grabbing his baseball cap and sitting up to place it on his head. He pulls it down to how he likes it; the brim sitting low over his eyes

"Thanks," he says with a smile and then leans forward to kiss me hard. I'm breathless when he pulls away, but not too breathless to straggle up my bed as he starts to stand.

"Are you leaving?" I ask, the remorse evident in my tone and I kick myself for it. Edward's not one of those kinds of guys. He doesn't do the whole whiny girl, emotional outbursts, thing.

He's quiet and lowkey and hard to interpret when he's not sticking his tongue down your throat.

At least, that's what Alice tells me because some of her friends have hooked up with him before at parties and that's what they've told her.

But I see something else when he looks at me. Something simmering just under the surface of his jade eyes and I hope that it's not just something I'm imagining. I hope I don't just think that I'm different to him. I hope I'm not just another notch on his belt because I'm new and a girl.

But that's what it feels like when he bends over my bed to press his lips to my forehead.

"It's late," he says. "You should sleep."

It is late, but it's also a Saturday night and we were quiet enough that my mom and Charlie wouldn't have heard a thing.

And I'm not tired; something that was probably obvious to him when he started to get up.

But he's eyeing me speculatively, like he can see something warring inside of me.

"You okay?" he asks and I know, based on what Alice has coached me in over the past couple of months, that I shouldn't push the subject because guys don't like that, but I can't help the fidgeting of my fingers and then it looks stupid to just say, 'yeah,' because obviously, I'm not.

He doesn't wait for an answer, just sits on the edge of my bed and pulls my face back to him. His mouth molds to mine like we were made for each other and I kiss back with as much enthusiasm as I can muster.

He pulls back a centimeter, breathing harder, letting his bottom lip drag along mine and goosebumps shoot up my body, along with a warming sensation.

"I…" I trail off and he licks his bottom lip, effectively touching mine in the process.

"You can tell me anything," he says, but the look in his eyes tells me he might not want me to tell him certain things.

"What are we?" I say out loud, louder than I should have and without giving it much thought and maybe that's good because if I had thought about it, I would have said it was nothing.

"I mean," I start to back track because he looks like the question shocked him just as much as it shocked me. His brow furrows for a moment before relaxing. "Is this…are we…?"

I don't know what else to ask, so the pulling up of one side of his mouth and the soft kiss he presses to the corner of my mouth are very welcome.

"Do we need labels?" he whispers against my lips before kissing me again.

This time, the brim of his hat hits the bridge of my nose and I pull back when he whispers, "Sorry," and I think my question actually did throw him off because he's usually a lot smoother than that.

Maybe Alice was right. I shouldn't have pushed anything.

I kiss him one last time after he stands and I tell him he can leave out the front door if he wants instead of breaking a leg on the way down and he shoots me a smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

He looks me over carefully when he opens the front door as slowly as he can muster and asks, "I'll see you Monday?" as though there's a possibility I'd skip school because of this.

I smile, my arms crossed against the thin shirt, the night air too chilly to be comforting and watching as he ducks his head and heads off down my front yard and down a block where he parked his car so my mom and Charlie would never see him.

I'm kind of a mess later that night when it's too late to be a mess and I should be sleeping. I'm not crying, but my mind is running a mile a minute with thoughts of whether this is a good idea. Whether Edward and I are a good idea.

Whether 'Edward and I' is even an idea at all.

The first call from him, at two in the morning, I send straight to voicemail because I don't really want to hear him telling me that we should just go on like we don't know each other because obviously I want more than he does, and the second one I let ring until my voicemail picks up on its own.

He doesn't leave one, and I don't know if that makes me happy, or even more upset.

The first text he sends says, 'I'm sorry,' and it doesn't really surprise me because yeah, he probably is sorry he ever started anything with me, but the second does surprise me and makes me wonder what's going on in his head.

'I'm an idiot sometimes,' it reads and then, when I don't reply, 'Ok, a lot of the time.'

I crack a smile which feels like it's going to crack my face when I get the fourth text.

'And you are, without a doubt, the only girl I've ever felt things for.'

I'm too in awe and excited over the message that I forget to reply and so he sends his final text which simply reads, 'I'll see you Monday.'

I've never been more excited for a Monday in my life.