I do not own Twilight.

We're not finished with these kids yet…

Sometime later, Edward's lifting me, bringing us towards his room, whispering that Emmett will be back soon and that, though he loves him and missed him, he would rather be alone with me right now. I agree, though the sleep-haze that's taken over my mind only allows me to rest my head back against his shoulder as an answer.

I press my lips to his neck, curling closer to his side when he puts me on a bed. His bed.

"Emmett has two rooms?" I manage to ask around a yawn. All of the crying has tired me out, and Edward laughs lightly.

"Yes. In case I needed to leave home." The answer sobers me and wakes me a bit more. "Do you have exams tomorrow?" he asks, his previous answer not affecting him in the least.

I nod, stretching out my legs. Being curled up on his lap for the past hour or so has left me achy and stiff.

"What time?" he asks, pressing his lips to my temple.

"Eight."

"You have to leave tonight?"

Regretfully I nod, knowing I'd never make it on time if I left in the morning.

"You shouldn't have come, Bella. I would have waited."

I don't respond, pulling away to look down at him softly. In the moonlight shining through his window, only half of his face is visible. He looks how I feel—tired, but calm. Happy. He's watching me with that look he always watches me with. The one that hides him and reveals him at the same time.

Without thinking, I lean down and press my lips to his.

We pour everything into this kiss, all our worries, our depression, our reluctance to be apart. His hands twine themselves into my hair and he's pulling me down on top of him, tasting my mouth. He feels and tastes exactly how I remembered, but better somehow. He kisses me like he's lost me, and then like he's found me.

His fingers are nearly clumsy, unlike him, as he reaches for the hem of my shirt, dragging his warm hands up towards my ribs. I sigh into his mouth, relishing in this. In us because we haven't been us in so long and it feels amazing to know we can pick up where we left off. Maybe not mentally, but physically.

He moves against the bed to shift on top of me and I can feel him between my legs, against my groin, against my thigh and I press back against him, letting my head fall to the side as all of the familiar and desperately desired feelings come soaring back through me. I'm achy and needy and sad and happy all at once, but his lips over my throat, over my jaw, back to my mouth wipe away any doubt.

I want him. He wants me.

His fingers are fast now to disentangle my shorts from my body and he doesn't bother to pull off my underwear as his fingers slip through the side, touching where I need him most. I let out a sigh that's followed by a groan from him as his fingers explore the hot, wet center of my desire.

He pulls back slightly and is looking down at me and I can feel the brilliance of his emerald gaze, the sheer intensity with which he stares at me, and I know he's asking for more than just permission. He's asking if he can have me, all of me.

I respond by reaching down to tug at his pants and he's pushing them down his legs quickly.

"Are you still..." he starts to whisper, but I pull him down to me, pressing my lips back to his.

"Yes," I breathe against his mouth. "Please, Edward." I shift my hips up towards him and in a quick movement, one aided by his fingers as they pull fabric to the side, he's inside of me.

I tense, not having had someone fill me like this since...well, since him, and he holds himself above me, waiting for me to acclimate. He's kissing any part of me he can reach, my forehead, my cheek, my shoulder, my ear, whispering his love for me, his compassion and need for me.

Being connected like this, in a way I'd thought we'd lost, makes me want to cry and I'm glad it's too dark for him to see my eyes watering. I feel him, running my hands over his shoulders, his arms, his chest while he kisses me and then lift my hips and wrap my arms around his shoulders to goad him, to let him know I'm okay.

"Slow," he whispers against my mouth and I feel like I'm seventeen again, wanting him to claim me as his for the first time and really, this is like a first time. We've been reborn; we've been given another chance and I'm desperate to make this one work. He moves within me, slowly, experimentally and I'm lost in a sea of Edward.

I'm building in minutes, not able to hide how he makes me feel, what he does to me inside and out, and he's moaning along with me, holding me tighter, kissing me harder, longer.

I hold him when it's over, his head on my chest, his legs entangled in mine and I can feel the dampness of tears forming against my shirt, under his face. I press my lips to his hair, trying to calm him, to show him I'm here, that I'll always be here. "I love you. I want you," I whisper.

He glances up at me, his sad eyes filled with sorrow, but clouded by love. "I love you," he whispers back. "I'll never make you doubt me, us, ever again."

I smile. "I don't." I kiss his temple. "I don't think I ever did."

He pulls himself up my body to kiss me again, deeply, desperately and I don't know if I'm going to make it back to school tonight, but I think I'm completely okay with that.