I need a bloody Beta Reader. God knows I hate Proofreading my own work. The most I do is use Word to Spell check. This is probably full of mistakes.

The reason this chapter took so long is a combination of laziness on my part, and me not wanting to update until I posted for my other fic. However, since I realised that wasn't going to happen any time soon, and it would have been unfair to you guys to make you wait any longer, I said Fuck It, and finished the chapter.

As an apology, this is 4k words. Yay.

It's an unremarkable chapter really -one that can easily be skim read or skipped completely without consequence. I'm sure a lot of people are annoyed it's such a slow fic, but even though it's labelled Romance, it's heavily focused on Edgar's general life and also how she interacts with other people and they with her. The romance bit isn't really a priority. So if any of you get bored or something, you are welcome to jump ship. Fair warning.

On the bright side, we see Edward next chapter.

Four different POV changes here; Daniel - Edgar- Daniel- Cecilia

And this every two day update schedule? I'm pretty sure it's gone to hell.

Hope you like it :)

Review?


Chapter XI - Orange


Daniel didn't particularly mind Edgar Beauregard all that much. Sure she was a little weird and had a tendency to stare, but after a while, one got used to it. He'd been forced to anyway, since she had now become a regular visitor within his home, since she was painting his mother's portrait and all. Though Edgar herself didn't seem to understand why his mother insisted she paint the portrait there twice a week, and always leave her things at their house, because the dreamy girl claimed that if she took it home she could probably just have it done within one day. His mother wasn't having any of it though, and claimed that she enjoyed the process.

Daniel suspected she was up to something, but hadn't bothered inquiring after more.

He spoke to the girl occasionally, in passing. Mostly when he'd finished his homework (that his mother always insisted he do in the kitchen so she could make sure it was to her satisfaction, which he didn't get because he'd been an A-Plus student all his life and he'd think that his mother trusted him by now) and was passing by the living room to get to his own bedroom upstairs. Though sometimes his mother would send her to the kitchen while he was still busy to fetch something, like a jug of Ice-Tea from the fridge, or for the tray of Muffins she had prepared for the girl.

Just for his own amusement, he'd make a random statement, just to hear her response. She was always straightforward and blunt, and apparently had no real sense of humour either. He found it increasingly funny how he could say something weird like "Oranges are Orange" and she'd simply stare at (through) him with her grey eyes for a long moment before calmly shrugging and leaving.

She wasn't very talkative either, like most other girls he knew –which admittedly wasn't a lot-, and one had a tendency to not even notice her presence. He appreciated that too, as he himself wasn't much of a conversationalist. Or a people person. His Violin instructor once went the whole session without even noticing Edgar had been in the room with them the whole time. She'd gotten quite the shock at the end when the younger girl had sneezed softly, interrupting what she'd been saying. It had been funny seeing his stiff teacher so very flustered. Edgar for her part, had simply blinked once at the old woman, before resuming her previous actions of cleaning her paint brush.

Really, he didn't mind the girl. He wouldn't call them friends though, just acquaintances who occasionally saw each other and exchanged a word or two.

So when his mother called him into the kitchen Monday afternoon after he returned from school, and requested he accompany said girl to Seattle, he had been a little surprised to say the least.

"I'm sorry?" He asked, giving his mother a dubious look. She frowned at him, planting her hands on her hips and tapping her foot expectantly.

"Will you please accompany Edgar to Seattle?" His mother repeated. Daniel regarded her carefully for a long moment, contemplating whether or not it would be worth it to refuse. It was clear his mother wasn't asking him, but if he played it right, he could make as if he thought she was.

His eyes drifted to the taller female next to her, who was staring straight at him with a blank face. He resisted the urge to flinch at her unrelenting gaze, looking back at his mother to avoid staring into her eyes. Seattle was a long way –he couldn't imagine being subjected to such a stare the whole trip. He wasn't that brave.

"Please do not force him Mrs Smith. It's clear Daniel doesn't want to. I do not want to be an inconvenience." She said in her usual tone. Her voice didn't hold much emotion as usual, and she didn't seem particularly bothered either. His eyes snapped back to her in horror, then back at his mother's disapproving stare. He was in for it now –no way would he be able to refuse.

"Look what you've done Daniel!" His mother exclaimed heatedly, before gesturing at the girl next to her. "You've gone and hurt the poor girl's feelings!" She declared, though Edgar didn't look all that offended to him. In fact, she wasn't even paying attention to them anymore, her gaze was locked on something outside the window.

Daniel sighed in resignation, knowing that he'd lost the battle before it had even begun. He dropped his backpack on one of the kitchen stools and fingered the car keys he hadn't yet had the chance to put down, before shrugging. "Alright." He said, hiding his reluctance, not that he figured it did much good. "Let's go Edgar." He called, running his hand through his hair wearily before turning and heading out the kitchen, not even bothering to wait for her.

He was sitting in the grey Polo by the time she exited the house, his mother close behind, and he watched as his mother handed the girl an umbrella with a pleasant smile, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Honestly, he was sure at this point she loved the girl more than she did him.

She entered the passenger door quickly, sitting next to him, though she didn't bother to put on a seatbelt. He waited a long moment, but she didn't move.

"You should wear your seatbelt." He advised carefully but she shook her head.

"I will on the way to Seattle, however, we are required to pass by house first in order to pick up the painting." She replied reasonably. He stared at her a long moment before turning the key in the ignition.

He supposed he could understand her reasoning. What use would it be to put on the belt only to be forced to take it off only five minutes later? Although, he was all for the saying "Better Safe than Sorry", he figured it didn't really apply in this situation. He was fairly sure nothing would happen to them on the short drive towards her residence. She lived just two streets down after all.

"Alright then, I guess." He replied with a casual shrug after a long moment.


Edgar didn't particularly understand why Mrs Smith insisted on her son accompanying her to Seattle. It was obvious to see that Daniel didn't want to –his body language and facial expressions clearly showed what he himself didn't say. Of course, she had tried to be a little considerate by informing the woman, however, Mrs Smith was a strict woman towards her son, and her orders were resolute. In the end though, Daniel had accepted (begrudgingly) and so Edgar let it be.

He wasn't particularly bad company, really Edgar was mostly indifferent to his presence. Of course, sometimes he would say some odd things which she didn't really see the point of, but human beings were odd themselves and she had stopped trying to understand them long ago. Mostly though, he just kept to himself and ignored her.

She could see however, that he was uncomfortable for some reason, despite the background music playing. In normal circumstances, she wouldn't have cared about it, since she rarely paid heed to anyone's feeling anyway, however, considering the fact that he had gone out of his way to help her, she suppose the least she could do was calm him down. Of course, after many lectures from her father/social therapist, she had learned that she should always ask before she did anything on her own (she still didn't really understand why though). In this circumstance, she figured that it would be best to ask what was bothering him, so she could try and solve the problem efficiently. Or at least as was in her capabilities.

And so she did; "You seem uncomfortable Daniel." She stated, watching the scenery pass on the highway. It wasn't very interesting, and nothing peeked her interest, but apparently, when trying to help someone, one shouldn't be too aggressive.

Apparently, staring head on at the person was considered 'aggressive'.

Daniel coughed. "I'm fine." He lied. It was obvious, especially by how his body language became even more defensive than before. A tighter grip on the steering wheel, tense shoulders, stiff jaw, and a slight frown.

She hummed slightly. "Will you not tell me what is bothering you?" She asked. He sighed audibly.

"How can you be so entirely oblivious?" He asked wearily, making her turn to look at him in confusion.

"Oblivious?" She echoed, "Of what?" She asked him, completely unaware of what he was going on about. He looked at her for a moment from the corner of his eyes, before looking back at the road with a snort of amusement.

"So you don't feel awkward at all?" He asked again. Edgar paused, taking a moment to look for the mentioned 'awkwardness' he referred to. Not that her search yielded any results –everything was perfectly normal as far as she could tell. She frowned slightly. One definition of the word "awkward" could be discomforted, but yet again, she could find no reason as to why she would feel that way.

Eventually she shrugged helplessly. "No." She answered honestly. Daniel let out a startled laugh.

"Of course you wouldn't." He said in a knowing tone, shaking his head to himself.

Edgar stared at him, trying to figure out what he meant, though no answer was forthcoming. She blinked before looking back out the window.

Daniel was strange.

The rest of the drive to Seattle was spent in silence once more, but at least he seemed a lot less uneasy than before, so she considered it a victory on her part, albeit a confusing one.


"Oh, it's absolutely splendid!" Exclaimed Mrs Brighton, clapping her hands together excitedly as she flittered around the large portrait standing on her beige coloured couch. "It looks so life-like! Even more so than any photograph that I've ever seen and yet, it also somehow manages to convey a much more elegant and timeless look than something captured by a camera!" She gushed in awe, eyes bright.

Daniel didn't blame her, he too was gawking at the painting in disbelief himself. Of course, he had known that Edgar was talented (how could he not when she was working on his mother's own portrait?) but seeing a finished product, instead of a half-done piece, was something else entirely.

It looked like the subject on the canvas was about to get up and start moving –and honestly, he was more surprised that it didn't.

His eyes slid to the black haired girl standing a few feet away, holding in her hands the white material that had previously covered her work, and looking positively bored. His brows rose in surprise. She didn't seem at all moved by the elderly woman's amazement, in fact, she wasn't even paying attention. Instead she had her gaze fixed on an ornate blue oriental themed (and expensive looking) vase on the other side of the room.

He was pretty sure he had just seen her fingers twitch too.

Daniel thought about how often someone had to receive such tremendous praise to become so utterly blasé towards it, so completely indifferent that they couldn't even be bothered to muster up a smug smile or triumphant glint in their eyes, and wondered if he would ever reach that point in his own artistic career.

He hoped not.

Of course, concerning Edgar Beauregard, one could never really be sure, considering the fact that the girl never particularly seemed to react to anything. He supposed he shouldn't jump to conclusions or make any unfounded assumptions. For all he knew, she could be filled with utter jubilation on this inside, and since she had the facial expression range of a robot, was unable to show it.

Though somehow, he still doubted that possibility.

"Oh, the ladies in the Bridge Club will be so envious!" Mrs Brighton declared smugly, before turning her attention back to Edgar, who had, at some point when they weren't paying attention, drifted closer to the vase and was now intently working on it in her sketchpad. "And I must say, it is worth much more than the price we agreed on, darling." The woman said, walking closer to the girl and placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. Edgar blinked at her slowly, before shaking her head.

"I would have preferred doing it for no charge." She replied, sounding slightly put-out as she shifted her current work under her left arm. Daniel looked at her like she was crazy. Who in their right mind would want to do something so clearly valuable for free?

Mrs Brighton shook her head and tutted in displeasure. "No, I insist." She stated in a resolute voice. "If I had known how stunning it would have turned out, no way would I have offered a meagre amount. Oh! You must have felt so insulted!" She cried with clear regret in her voice. His brows furrowed.

Meagre? Idly, he wondered how much the woman had originally offered. Three hundred dollars? Maybe four?

"Fourty is nowhere near enough for such a masterpiece!" Mrs Brighton proclaimed in distress, making her way towards the coffee table and picking up a checkbook. Daniel blinked in surprise, having not anticipated such a low price, although, it was slightly understandable. He wouldn't have expected much from a slightly wonky looking teenage girl either. Using a checkbook for such a small amount was weird though, but he never understood rich people anyway. Maybe the woman just didn't carry paper money on hand.

The woman extracted a fancy looking fountain pen from the front pocket of her white, embroidered blazer, before quickly scribbling down the corrected amount onto an open page and ripping it off with the ease of someone used to it. "I think seventy should suffice. I'm still not entirely satisfied, but I don't expect you to take anything more." She said knowingly, handing the rectangular slip over to Edgar.

He managed to catch a glimpse of it during the brief exchange and almost had a heart-attack right then and there, because now way had he anticipated it.

Seventy thousand dollars was the actual amount. Of course. He rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to scoff out-loud. How naïve of him to assume anything less.

And the worst part was, Edgar didn't even spare it a second glance, quickly shoving the slip away in her leather satchel with no amount of care. Daniel suspected with horror, that she wouldn't even have particularly cared all that much if it somehow got lost.

"Thank you very much Mrs Brighton." She said with a nod of her head, but Mrs Brighton simply waved her hand uncaringly.

"It's my absolute pleasure. I'll be sure to express my gratitude towards Cecilia. If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't have known just how talented you are!" Daniel wondered who this 'Cecilia' was.

"I'm sure she'll be pleased." Edgar answered, mustering up a polite smile, though Daniel could tell it was clearly fake. "If we may take our leave?" She asked, and Mrs Brighton laughed.

"Yes, yes. I imagine you have plenty other clients waiting on you! Don't let me keep you!" She said, walking them to the door. Well, walked Edgar to the door really. She hadn't bothered to acknowledge his presence aside from a polite greeting when they first entered.

"Do pass by for some tea every once in a while! You'd be very welcome!" Mrs Brighton offered, making Daniel give the both of them a sceptical look. Tea? Really?

Rich people, he thought with amusement.

"Of course." The black haired girl responded easily. Mrs Brighton nodded with a large smile and with one last goodbye, they were on their way.

Daniel regarded the girl carefully as they stood in the elevator, seeing just how casual she looked, and wondered if this was a normal occurrence. Dealing with such…exclusive clients.

"Do you normally paint work for people like Mrs Brighton?" He asked curiously. Edgar looked his way.

"People 'like' Mrs Brighton?" She asked, confusion colouring her voice. "And what exactly is Mrs Brighton 'like'?" She asked him as the metal doors slid open, revealing the large underground parking lot.

Daniel searched for the words. Really, he meant filthy rich, but he had been taught better than to be so blunt. "People in higher classes." He said diplomatically.

"Rich people you mean?" She asked easily.

He unlocked the car with a sigh. Apparently he and Edgar had a different education. "You could say that." He replied wearily, shutting the door behind him.

"Fairly often I suppose." She answered, sliding her seatbelt on. She didn't elaborate –not that he expected her to.

"Oh."

What else could he say really?

She stared at him for a moment, before shrugging and looking away. "Would you mind if we passed by my Grandmother's house? I promised I would pay her a visit when I came to the city." She requested. Now it was his turn to shrug. He didn't mind all that much anymore. It wasn't like he had anything better to do back in Forks anyway.

"Sure."


"Edgar, my Dear!" Cried Cecilia Beauregard at the sight of her favourite grandchild, immediately engulfing the girl in a large hug. She was stiff, as was to be expected (Edgar wasn't much for physical contact, never had been), but returned it briefly anyway. The elder woman smiled, before taking a step back, and giving her a quick once over, making sure she looked to be in good health. Aside from some paint in her wild hair –which was a normal thing, really- she seemed fine, and luckily hadn't had a decline in health in the two weeks she hadn't seen her.

Edgar gave a small smile, a real one thankfully. "Hullo Grandmother." She greeted, "A pleasure to see you. We just came from Mrs Brighton's so as promised, I decided to at least pass by for a brief visit before we made our way back to Forks." She explained. At the mention of the word 'we', Cecilia noticed for the first time, the quiet boy standing to the side, observing his surroundings curiously.

Her eyes rose in surprise, "And who is this handsome young man you brought with you?" She asked curiously. His attention was brought back to the present, and he stepped forward with a polite smile.

"Hello Ma'am. My name is Daniel Smith." He greeted, shaking the hand she held out.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Daniel!" And it was! She had never even heard of Edgar interacting with someone her own age. "Are you a friend of Edgar's?" Cecilia asked curiously.

"No." Edgar denied before the boy could answer, making her raise a brow. "He just accompanied me here at the request of his mother." Her granddaughter explained bluntly. Cecilia looked back at the dirty blond haired male, who nodded in confirmation. She smiled nonetheless.

"That was very kind of you Daniel." She told him, making him look to the ground abashedly.

"Thank you Ma'am." He mumbled shyly, much to Cecilia's amusement. She looped an arm through his with a smile.

"Come now, let us retreat to the living room." She said, already walking. The boy could do nothing but follow obediently. "Do you go to the same school as Edgar?" She asked curiously.

"Yes Ma'am. Though we don't interact much." He answered uncomfortably. He looked around in search for the topic of their subject, only to find that the girl had disappeared sometime between the foyer and the living room.

She hummed in acknowledgement, leading them to a couch. "Can I offer you anything? Tea? Water? Perhaps some cake?" She asked, but he shook his head in denial.

"No thank you Ma'am. I'm quite alright." He told her politely and she frowned in displeasure.

"Alright, but next time you visit, I'll be sure to stuff you up." That was an open invite for him to come back of course. God only knew Edgar needed a friend, and Cecilia was nothing if not determined.

Daniel seemed a little confused, and slightly hesitant, but nonetheless gave a small smile. "Yes Ma'am." He agreed.

"Good, good." She acknowledged, leaning forward to pour herself a cup of tea from the set Thomas had subtly prepared earlier on when she had still been greeting the two teens in the foyer. He really was quite an efficient worker.

She took a dainty sip, looking at the boy next to her. "And how is it that you two know each other then? She said your mother asked you to accompany her to Seattle? Are you working on paired project?" She inquired. She was curious about this young male. How could she not be?

"No Ma'am." He denied with a small frown. "Edgar is doing a portrait for my mother, so we see each other fairly frequently." He explained.

"You are a very polite young man, aren't you?" Cecilia remarked, making him blush.

"My mother is very strict." He responded, looking down at his lap self-consciously and she nodded.

"Ah," She breathed in understanding. It was a pleasant thing though, young people these days often were quite rude. "Well, I would like to meet your mother one day, to congratulate her on a job well done."

"I'll be sure to tell her, Ma'am." He said with a genuine smile.

"Excellent." Cecilia declared, placing her teacup down with her own pleased smile.

"So tell me Daniel, do you like Edgar?" She asked, interested to know his opinion of her granddaughter. She worried about her granddaughter. The girl was admittedly different, and most people of course were quite unnerved by her. It was only natural Cecilia look out for her.

The boy coughed awkwardly, searching around the room as if something within would give him the correct answer. "She's very…nice." He answered eventually, though his voice was weak and uncertain. Cecilia let out a laugh of amusement.

"'Nice' isn't the word I would use to describe her, and she's my granddaughter!" She joked with a slight laugh. "I know she's a little…strange, you could say. But she really isn't that bad. Just give her a chance, please." She insisted.

"She's alright really." Daniel hurried to say, sounding sincere. "I find her interesting. And she's very talented. She just takes some…getting used to." He said, with a thoughtful frown.

"True true." She agreed with a nod. "And you? Do you have any particular talents?" She asked him.

He looked away. "I play the violin." He answered and instantly, Cecilia found herself interested.

"Really?" She asked in surprise. "Well, I was quite the violinist myself, back in my day! Are you any good?"

He blushed again and shrugged. "I'm average." He murmured, softly.

"That's not true, Grandmother." Edgar declared, entering the room, drawing her attention. "He's been playing since he was four, and he's very talented. Daniel just doesn't like attention is all." Cecilia raised a brow at the girl. Edgar blinked slowly at the male, staring at him for a long moment and ignoring how clearly uncomfortable he looked.

"He doesn't like talking to people he doesn't know all that well either. He's shy." She added. Cecilia gave her are look of amusement.

"You seem to know him very well?" She remarked and Edgar shrugged uncaringly.

"We've only known each other for two weeks, though it's fairly easy to see." The black haired girl answered.

Cecilia looked back at Daniel, who wasn't looking at any of them, and was still bright red. "I see…" She acknowledged with a nod. "You've always had good observational skills."

Edgar shrugged again. "We have to leave now. It's getting late." She said and Cecilia stood quickly.

"Oh yes of course. I've kept you far too long." She agreed, looking at the time. "Although, be sure to bring Daniel by again. You must play for me one day. I myself don't play all that often. These old fingers are quite temperamental." She joked. Daniel stood with a small smile.

"Yes Ma'am." He answered, though she could see that he was still nervous.

"Wonderful." She answered, before looking to her Granddaughter. "And Edgar dear, greet your father for me. It's a wonder he doesn't visit me more often, considering the fact that he works here in the city!" Cecilia complained lightly.

Edgar nodded and gave her one of her rarely seen, small smiles.

"Yes Grandmother."