A/N: Good evening, everyone! As obsessed as I am with this story … I just can't quit! There are so many questions that I couldn't answer within the few chapters I thought I'd write. There are so many elements to this story which I discovered while writing that I think you guys will love!

I'll be posting my EPOV outtake soon! I just wanted to get a few more chapters posted so his POV won't spoil/ruin anything in the plot! Trust me when I say it will totally be worth the wait, though! EPOVs are always so fun to read. (At least, I always think they're super fun and interesting).

A lot of people messaged me about this so I'll just clear this one question up right now: Salem, Bella's cat, is totally okay! Edward has been keeping him safe so no worries! He's based off of my real life cat (also named Salem) so I wouldn't be able to have anything bad happen to him in this story! Thanks for all of your concerns! I'm always super concerned about animals in stories, too! You guys are the best!

Big thanks to Sally! Thanks so much for getting this chapter back to me! You're the absolute best!

~Cherished~

"A … a vampire?"

Despite the truth being evident, there was a difference between being quite sure of something and having it confirmed. Her stomach twisted, and she gagged, feeling the blood rise up her throat again before resting on her tongue. Even though the liquid had already been swallowed once, it tasted nice enough on her tongue, and she managed to swallow it once more.

Naked and covered in his blood and hers, she watched him with a hesitant gaze. What would this new life mean for her now that she knew this one fact to be true. She was a vampire now, and the only thing she could think about was blood.

Blood … and Edward, her twisted yet handsome savior.

To answer her question, he nodded and moved to lay down next to her. His hand wrapped around her naked frame, pulling her close and pressing a kiss against the fragile skin of her neck. They stayed like this for a moment, listening as birds began to sing outside, indicating that the sun would soon rise on a new day.

She always loved this time of day. The world seemed so quiet and peaceful before the sun rose, and when she awoke early enough, it felt like she had the world to herself. Wherever they were now, it was especially quiet. Outside, she couldn't hear a passing car or a human voice. They seemed far removed from any city.

Curious, she sat up and slipped off the mattress, easily escaping Edward's grasp before making her way toward the window. There were thick curtains that prevented any outside light from leaking into the room, and she pulled them back without a thought as to what could happen to her.

In the back of her mind, she remembered all the stories regarding vampires. So, she should have been aware of an allergic or deadly reaction to sunlight. However, so used to the sun as a human, she had pulled the curtain back without a care.

"Be careful," Edward said.

With her back turned to him, she listened as he slid off the bed. Although the sun was on her now, pouring into the room, she didn't burst into flames or die as soon as the natural light touched her. Instead, her skin itched. The itching wasn't terrible, but it was chronic, and she knew if she spent too much time in the natural light, the itching would become unbearable.

"Sunlight doesn't kill vampires?" she muttered, more to herself than to Edward.

He was standing behind her now and snaked his hands around her waist, pulling her naked body against his as he said, "You're asking now?"

Bella rolled her eyes, enjoying his teasing tone. For a moment, things almost felt normal—like they were just like any couple joking around with each other before daybreak. Of course, no ordinary couple would discuss matters of the undead, and knowing that put a morbid twist on her mood.

"I guess I should've questioned it before opening the curtains." She shrugged. "I'm still getting used to this whole being a vampire thing."

He pulled her hair to one side and kissed her neck, sucking gently on the spot he had bitten earlier before pulling back. "Your skin is sensitive to sunlight. Now, it's not so bad since the sun is only just breaking through the horizon."

"It gets worse?"

"Mornings are fine. Midday is difficult to stand. Twilight is the best time for vampires."

"Why twilight?"

He kissed her neck again and then let her hair fall. "It's the one time humans and vampires can comfortably interact."

"Do you frequently interact with humans?" There was a jealous edge to the question, and she couldn't place why. Could she be jealous of a human? Especially a human he was specifically using for food.

He was quiet and turned her around, away from the dawn, to give her a questioning glance. The jealousy was obvious, and he seemed to not understand it just like her.

"I don't," he said calmly, answering her question.

For whatever reason, she felt like she couldn't believe him. He did have to be around humans to feed after all. In the future, if they remained together, would she be jealous every time he went out for "dinner?" Would the thought of him wrapping his arms around another person and pressing his lips against their neck be too much for her to deal with?

If only they could feed from each other for eternity. Feeding required an intimacy she couldn't imagine having with another person. There was something so sexually charged about the blood transaction. Perhaps she would need to see him feed from someone else to be all right with it.

"Don't you need humans to …" Feed.

A sad smile pulled at his lips, and he looked at her. "Yes, but that's the only time we interact." He paused, letting his throat rest for a moment before he added, "It's not every day that I need to feed either."

"Aro and Caius …" She trailed off, not sure if she really wanted to bring up the memory. "They fed every day. They had a whole basement full of humans as if we were all meat packed into a refrigerator."

"They were gluttonous."

Bella arched a brow, wondering which vampire wasn't gluttonous. From the ones she had seen, they all fed like their stomachs could never be filled enough. They took what they wanted without asking what they needed. Human life was meaningless—less than meaningless. Would she think the same now that she was turned? The idea of being even remotely like those monsters turned her stomach, making her dry heave as she rested her head against Edward's chest and begged for the nausea to go away.

"It's over now," Edward said as he brushed her hair away from her face and leaned down to press a kiss against her forehead. "You're safe here."

"Where's Aro? Is he … is he dead?"

The events from the previous evening were still foggy in her mind. Still coming to terms with her new reality, any prior events felt like a fever dream. There were images that passed through her thoughts, but they were fleeting, confronting her for a moment before fading away. Every image was violent and gruesome—filled with more blood and horror than she would ever want to confront. Even in her haze, she remembered the way Edward looked attacking Aro. There had been so much venom and vengeance in his gaze.

With a grim expression, he looked at her and slowly nodded.

"Like dead dead?" She thought she should clarify.

He smirked at this, although, he didn't seem remotely happy. "Dead dead."

There was an emotion behind his eyes that she didn't want to name. Perhaps he was hiding something. Perhaps Aro was closer to him than he was letting on. They were both vampires, of course. They could have known each other for years and perhaps even longer. If they had a relationship of sorts, it was obvious that Edward wanted to stay completely mum about it. While she wanted to know everything there was to know about this world, she didn't want to start that process by making this man uncomfortable.

Bella wanted him to trust her so that he could open up and share everything. If she were going to survive this strange afterlife, she needed someone on her side. Prying now may only cause irrevocable damage. While they both remained silent, they also both seemed to be on the same page about this. He would open up when the right time came, and until then, she would wait patiently for his words.

What if he's one of the bad sorts pretending to be otherwise? She hated herself for the thought as soon as it entered her mind. After all that he had done for her, he couldn't be one of the bad sorts. He just couldn't. Bella couldn't begin to allow herself to believe it. It was important to believe there was someone on her side—even if it was all no more than a farce.

"How did he … pass?" she said quietly, almost not recognizing her own voice.

For the first time since waking up, her tone was filled with fear. Even if Aro was dead, she worried he would find a way to haunt her still. From beyond the grave, he would come for her. Can vampires become ghosts? she worried without a word, not knowing whether or not she wanted the answer to her question.

"Tore his head off," Edward said simply as if he were stating the most obvious fact in the world.

Perhaps it was obvious. After all, she didn't know the first thing about killing the already dead. While she consumed herself in researching crime while she was alive, she never ventured into the paranormal. Vampire felt like no more than a fictitious creature from folklore. Despite vampiric entities appearing within record in cultures throughout the world—always feeding off the vital essence of life, typically blood, from the living—she never considered it as anything more than a tall tale.

Vampire was popularized in Western Europe after the reports of an eighteenth-century mass hysteria. Bodies had been found staked as mysterious locals were accused of vampirism. The phenomenon took many names across cultures—such as shtriga in Albania, vrykolakas in Greece, and strigoi in Romania. As of late, the concept of vampire became more widely understood as a fictitious entity—although in some cultures, the belief in vampirism was still strong. The chupacabra, which quite literally translates to "goat sucker" for instance, had sightings reported in Puerto Rico in 1995. Unlike the typical idea surrounding vampire, chupacabra is understood to feast on the blood of livestock. While the concept of vampire haunted many throughout the world, Bella would have never considered such a being could actually exist in reality.

However, perhaps reality had never been what she thought. Her notion of reality was based entirely on concepts presented to her every day. Everything else was considered fantastical or outlandish or otherworldly—something found in tales for children, not to be believed adults. Now, everything she knew to be real had been entirely turned on its head, making her question each and every thing she ever thought she knew.

What was truth anyway? What was real? If we define these concepts in our own mind, can we really trust anything at all? When reality is challenged, what can we do? Deny or accept? Learn to grow or learn to stay comfortably in the dark?

It was all too much to think about now. Coming to terms with her new self while coming to terms with a new concept of reality made her want to go to sleep until she could wake up again to something that felt more normal. This was her new normal now—an undead world she didn't know how to grasp.

From the fictional stories—or, at least, what she always believed to be fictional stories—there were many ways to kill vampire. Staking has always seemed like the most common method as it was quite often portrayed in movies and was common in South Slavic cultures.

Regarding stakes, ash was a method seen in Russian and Baltic states. There was hawthorn, crataegus monogyna, a flowering plant in the rose family Rosaceae, used in Serbia. Oak was recorded as a proper method in Silesia. Aspen had also been used for stakes as it was believed that Christ's cross had been made from aspen.

Any person accused of vampirism was most often seen staked through the heart, though this differed in cultures throughout the world. The mouth was a popular target in Russia and Northern Germany. The stomach was a method seen used in northeastern Serbia.

Another method—one seemingly popular with Edward—was that of decapitation, a preferred method in German and western Slavic areas. Commonly, upon burial, the head would be buried between the feet—far away from the soul, which some cultures believed lingered in the corpse.

Romani drove steel or iron needles through vampire hearts. Other methods included pouring boiling water over vampire corpses and complete incineration, or burning, of the body. In some cultures, a vampire could be killed by being shot or drowned. Holy water seemed like a common use in many cultures. In Romania, garlic could be placed in the mouth of the recently deceased as to make sure vampirism couldn't take place after death. As recently as the nineteenth century, there were precautions of shooting bullets through coffins to make sure the dead would stay dead. In Saxon regions of Germany, a lemon could be found placed in the mouth of suspected vampires.

These were all vague memories from her past dive into the paranormal. Her interest in the topic had been short, and entirely driven by the literature she had been reading in college during the time. Bram Stoker's work, after all, was interesting enough to cause many to dive into the realm of vampires and the undead. College-aged Bella had been no exception to this curiosity. Dark romanticism, the Victorian era, and the Edwardian era had been her realm of expertise, after all. If true crime didn't sell the way it did, she could easily find herself publishing nonfiction books regarding these literary movements and eras throughout history. Trouble was, no one had seemed very interested in these topics.

People were more inclined to find interests in the gory and gruesome. Everyone wanted to read about death and destruction, but no one wanted to experience it firsthand. Living vicariously through the lives and deaths of others seemed far more rewarding than venturing into the unknown themselves.

Bella had ventured into the unknown time and time again but never this far. Not even close to this far.

"Decapitation kills vampires then?" Bella asked, peering up at her handsome man who now seemed to be lost in thought. "Is this the only way?"

He was quiet for a moment, still lost in whatever thought was consuming him, before nodding. "One of my favorite methods at least. It's the only way to be sure the vampire is truly dead."

He coughed, needing to clear his throat before he continued to speak. Her heart went out to him, feeling almost guilty for pressing him to talk to her like this. If every word hurt, it wouldn't be long before he wouldn't be able to manage many more.

Maybe if he wrote things down, he'd be able to communication easier. Or sign language … does he know it? Has he ever tried to learn? Or, as a man of few words naturally, has his current method of communication always been the easiest?

"What about stakes? Silver? Garlic? Bullets? Nothing else works."

Again, he was thoughtful before he spoke. "They wear us down … can kill us over time … but no vampire would wait as you played target practice."

Bella gulped, wondering what an encounter with a vampire like that would look like. Would they laugh as humans tried their best to kill them? Giving them the chance at a few shots before ending the human's life? She had too many questions begining to formulate. Perhaps she could write them all down—journal or something—and give Edward proper time to answer.

Maybe that's what I'll do … I doubt his voice will be able to last much longer like this. I've pressured him enough.

He smiled at her then, giving a light to his eyes that she hadn't seen before on his face. It was strange because this look seemed familiar to her. As if somehow, in the past, he had once looked at her in this manner. They were strangers, so the feeling of déjà vu made no sense to her. Still, she couldn't help but feel comforted by his appearance, feeling as if it were a warm greeting between old friends or lovers.

Have I known you before? she wondered as a hint of a smile tugged on her features. Is something like that possible?

"What is it?" she asked softly.

"Nothing." His smile grew, warm and even more sincere. "You're just strangely well behaved for a newborn."

"Am I?"

He nodded, reaching forward to take her hands. "Are you hungry? Perhaps you should feed again."

Her body was hungry, but her mind had been too consumed with him to notice. Silently, she let him guide her back to the bed where he left her for a moment as he left the room and returned with a few more blood bags. As he sat down next to her, he opened the bag with his nail and presented it near her mouth. With their gazes locked, she leaned forward and began to drink. She finished the first bag off quickly before moving to the next.

When will it be my time to try a human? I bet their blood would taste divine …

The thought made her aroused, and as she finished off one more bag and then another, she found herself leaning into Edward, practically mewling with desire against his hard frame. His eyes danced at the sight of her body withering next to his, overwhelmed with need.

There seemed to be two things she desired in this world above all else: blood and his body. Both were things she could consume all day without once feeling sated. Within moments of her finishing off the final blood bag, he was on top of her again, kissing and sucking her needy frame. Her mouth was everywhere, too, taking in as much as she could of him without ever feeling full enough.

They made love twice more before she felt like liquid in his arms. She was lethargic, feeling sleepy for the first time since waking up to this new world. It was strange—she imagined that vampires didn't require sleep. All of their other human functions seemed to disappear, so she figured sleep was one of those unnecessary things.

Now, full and thoroughly fucked in his arms, she could feel herself dozing off. Edward noticed this with a fond smile and picked her up, holding her bridal style as he moved off the bed and stood up. Without a word, he took her out of the room and down the hallway.

With her droopy eyes, she took in the new sights. Everything was dark colors—violets, rouges, and blacks. Everything seemed to belong to another world and another time, feeling like a real home belonging to a vampire. This is what she had expected from the previous home. Aro's estate was far too modern for anything her imagination had conjured up. Edward's home, however, more closely resembled her fantasies. So, as she was carried toward the end of the hallway, she couldn't escape the feeling that she was in some sort of dark fairy tale. Although now, she felt far from a princess. Truthfully, she still felt like food even after consuming so much blood.

Edward paused at the final door on the right and kissed her nose before opening it. The door swung open to reveal a bedroom. It was beautifully furnished in dark oak—there was a large bookcase filled with old volumes with titles she couldn't make out, an oak desk that had papers scattered across it with, to her surprise, a quill and ink along with a leather chair positioned before it. Next to this, there was a long, leather couch with a stack of what looked to be journals. Each of the journals were worn as though they had been frequently written in. The bed, which was in the center of the room, appeared larger than a king and was covered in a plush maroon comforter. It sat upon a rustic, four-post frame, and as she looked at it, she couldn't help but imagine herself bound to the posts, entirely spread out and desperate for him.

This in mind, her tongue darted out to skim her nether lip. Edward's eyes caught the movement, and although she didn't say a single word, he seemed to know exactly where her mind was going. He smiled faintly before bringing her to the bed. With steady hands, he placed her on the center of the mattress and stepped back to look at her thoughtfully.

"Don't tell me," she said as she let her body collapse against the bed, "vampires really sleep? You don't need to breathe or blink or go to the bathroom, but you need to rest every day?"

He smirked at her assessment of the undead lifestyle before responding. "We're weakest during the day. Sleeping heals our bodies—just as it heals the bodies of humans. Of course, we don't have to sleep nearly as long."

She listened to his strained voice as she felt herself fading. Sleep would crash into her soon, and already, she noticed how heavy her eyes felt. "You know … you can write things down for me if you want. I mean, if that's easier …"

Now, his eyes filled with something she thought almost represented love. "I'll take that into consideration."

While he didn't say as much, he seemed to appreciate her thoughtfulness. He seemed surprised by it even. Almost as if he couldn't believe that a newborn could have the presence of mind to think of such things. Perhaps in the past, every newborn he encountered had been ravenous and blood thirsty. Was this a pleasant change?

He joined her on the bed then and helped her beneath the covers. Bella smiled sleepily as she rested her head on the pillow behind her and laughed as Edward reached out to fluff it for her. So vampires like having their pillows fluffed? The action was so human that it almost took her by surprise. Of course, she understood that, like her, he had been human once, too, but that must have been so long ago. Surely, those human propensities must fade over time.

"Can you tell me a story?" Bella said somewhat absentmindedly as sleep threatened to overtake her.

"You want a bedtime story?" he asked with a smirk.

Quietly, Edward smoothed back her hair and gazed at her pretty, pale face. With tired eyes, she gazed up at him and smiled as if he were a pleasant dream himself.

"Just one. Until I fall asleep."

Knowing how much it hurt him to speak, she knew she shouldn't have asked him to tell her a story, but she couldn't refrain. Even though she didn't want to admit it—to herself or to anyone—she was frightened. She feared herself and the dreams she may have. Most likely, any sleep she would have from now on would be filled with nightmares. The thought made her shudder against her savior, and probably taking pity on her, he began to tell her a tale of his own.

"Once upon a time, there was a small boy who lived on the street, picking pockets and stealing food from vendors. His parents died when he was very young, leaving him without any money to his name. He was beaten frequently—almost lost a hand—and wanted to end his life as he grew older. Until he met a woman—a princess of sorts—and everything turned around …"

Bella didn't know if it was the soft tone of his voice or the story itself, but in no time, she was falling asleep in his arms as he recounted the tale of a poor young man falling in love with a daughter of a wealthy family only to have everything taken away from him one day. She had been destined to marry someone else, and loving the woman enough, the young man had let her go, knowing he wouldn't be able to provide a respectable life for her.

His words had inspired dreams, and while she rested, she imagined herself as the rich young woman falling for a man far beneath her station. As if everything were tangible, she could feel the rich fabric from the gowns on her skin. She imagined the young man, who looked like Edward if he were a normal human, caressing her figure, paying special homage to her breasts as they were displayed in a fashionable bodice. In her dreams, it felt as if she had fallen into a romance novel—one of the mass market paperbacks she would frequently pick up from the shelves next to the magazines at the supermarket.

"Not here … what if someone walks by and sees us?"

Her voice was desperate—but not for him to stop. She was desperate for him to keep going until he made her his right there in that alleyway. Outside a popular gentlemen's club, she had met him. He had been one beer in when he saw her passing by on the street. Normally, a woman of her rank wouldn't have been caught dead wandering around so late at night in the city by herself—but she had to see him.

So, she had ditched her help by the docks, running away from them as quickly as her skirts would allow. She heard their curses and their hollers for her to return, knowing her family would see to their removal if they found out that they had lost her in such a town. Truthfully, they shouldn't have allowed Bella to convince them to take her out so late. She had pleaded, claiming that she needed to see her dear friend in the city.

"She's sick—she may die in childbirth this time—you'll have to take me to see her. I just received a letter from her. I must arrive quickly. If my friend dies before I can reach her, I'll never forgive you," Bella had told her staff, and reluctantly, they had believed her.

Catherine, her dear friend in the city, was with child—that much wasn't a lie—but she was perfectly well. In truth, there had been a letter Bella had received, but it wasn't from a friend. Instead, it was from a suitor too poor to be considered by her family or society. He could offer her nothing, but still, she wanted everything from him and more.

The way he made her feel was unlike anything she could ever imagine possible. She craved him every second he wasn't with her, making his absence beyond anything bearable. Tonight, she couldn't take it anymore. They would run away together. Find someplace where they could start fresh—away from the securitizing gazes of all of those she knew. Even if that meant a life without money or prospects. If they were together, everything felt worth it.

"No one's coming by. No one ever passes through this way," Edward assured her before kissing her fluttering pulse.

"How … how do you know," she stuttered out, already lost in the sensations his mouth and body gave.

"I live here half the time."

The truth saddened her. She didn't want to think about how he spent his nights on the street whilst she spent hers in a comfortable bed inside of a warm home. With winter approaching, the temperatures were becoming quite frigid. She was half-surprised that he hadn't frozen to death. Every day, she would search for him, worrying that she would end up finding him dead. The relief that came with finding him alive and well was indescribable. Words would never suffice when it regarded how deeply she felt.

"Soon, we'll be together, and you'll never have to worry about cold nights."

He pulled back to gaze at her with a face that was almost melancholy. Did he not believe they would escape together? Did he not see that this possibility was very real to her? She would give up anything and everything to be with him—wouldn't he do the same?

Instead of saying anything, he reached down to pull at her skirts before his mouth returned to her neck. She wasn't one for doing things like this out in the open, but it felt too risky to find someplace to sleep together tonight. If they were seen, they could be found out. Tonight, before they departed, they had to do things under everyone's radar. Bella, being young and quite beautiful, was a popular face in the city. Her parents were looking to marry her off and everyone knew it.

Edward, on the other hand, was far from popular. Being an orphan from a very young age, he had resorted to stealing and living on the streets. They had met by chance—two people from very different worlds—and had fallen for each other quickly. Bella knew that if she told anyone about her love, they would quickly say he was using her for her wealth. Little would they know of their plans to elope. Once they did, all of her money and prospects would become irrelevant.

"Don't stop kissing me," she implored, although she knew she didn't have to.

Edward never seemed to want to stop. He could kiss her all night, and it would never feel like enough. His hands dipped into her pantalets, taking advantage of their open crotch. His fingers slipped into her, exploring her wet folds with his thumb as his other fingers moved inside of her, stretching her and preparing her for his pulsating length. Already, he was ready for her—feeling needy from the moment her letter arrived this morning. It had been dropped off by one of her servants after they had managed to track him down. Thankfully, the servant hadn't been nosey—if they had been, the couple could have easily been exposed before there elopement began.

Bella gasped as his mouth dipped down to her collarbone where he licked the delicate skin. He knew how sensitive the area was and played it to his advantage. Her fingers dug into the flesh of his back, almost wishing to tear through his clothes to feel his hot flesh. She resisted though, knowing this was one of his few shirts. With the money she had stolen this morning from her father, she planned on buying him many shirts. She would give him the world and more, wanting to rectify the many misgivings of his childhood.

"Edward …" She moaned against him, wishing he would replace his fingers with his cock.

"Stay quiet," he said with a smile in his voice.

After a few moments, he brought her toward her first orgasm of the evening before turning her around to face the brick wall behind her. Instinctively, she placed her palms against the wall and closed her eyes, waiting to feel him lift up her skirts. For a moment, he teased her, kissing the flushed back of her neck before finally giving in to her desire and lifting her skirts.

She heard him fumble with his pants before she felt his throbbing cock against the back of her thigh. Eagerness flooded her as she quivered, waiting to feel his length line up with her weeping entrance.

"Will you be good for me tonight? Will you be quiet?"

"As quiet as possible," she confirmed, loving when he would talk to her like this.

She gasped as she felt him press inside of her. Even though his fingers had stretched her quite a bit, they were nothing compared to his thick length. He gave her a moment to adjust, knowing that she always needed this, before he began to thrust with a delicious force.

Her knees quivered, threatening to buckle as he moved inside of her. His movements were ravenous all while being elegant as if he wanted to fuck her and make love to her all at once. Sometimes, he seemed worried that having sex with her like this degraded her, but little did he know she loved the degradation. She loved the feeling of being used and abused by him—almost like a beautiful love doll.

"You're so beautiful, Bella. Far too beautiful for a monster like me."

Her brows creased as she listened to his words. Why must he think so lowly of himself? Does he believe that he's less of a man just because he wasn't born into wealth like me?

"You're the beautiful one. Far from a monster."

After a few more thrusts, he pulled out, coming on her backside before dropping to his knees and turning her around to face him. Seconds later, his mouth was on her core—his tongue worrying her throbbing clit. He played her as if she were an instrument, and he was a skilled musician. After crying out into the empty air of the night, she came on his tongue, seeing stars as she felt as if she were floating along with the wind in the night sky.

Soon, they were both sitting on the ground together, side-by-side with their hands clasped. After their lovemaking, she was restless, all the more eager to leave town. With an open expression—excitement clear on her features—she turned toward her lover.

"Tonight, we'll escape together. You did get my letter this morning? Are you ready? I have tickets for the boat. We'll start a new life together."

He was quiet for a moment, thoughtful, before saying, "Are you sure you want that? You have everything you need here, Bella. What if … what if you leave all of this security and find that you don't love me the way you once thought?"

She pulled back then, offended by his words. They were harsh and barely sounded like him. "You think … you really think I'd fall out of love with you?"

He shrugged, seeming uncertain for the first time since they had gotten together. "You never know. Feelings change … Perhaps … perhaps this was just, I don't know, the summer of our lives. What happens once we reach another season? What happens when we meet with our winter and things get more difficult? What then?"

"Are you doubting my love for you?" She paused, waiting for him to look at her. When he didn't grant her his gaze, she said, "Look at me. Look at me, please."

After a sigh, he turned his head to meet her gaze.

"Do you love me?" she asked, almost as if she feared his response.

"Love … God, what does love mean anyway?"

Perturbed and uneasy, she responded. "What do you mean? You're the person who taught me what love meant. Don't you remember that?"

He shrugged. "Vaguely. Now, I'm more and more unsure."

"You … you don't want to run away with me, then. You fear that we'd be making a mistake."

"We would. Wouldn't we? Your whole life is here, Bella. You have a bright future ahead of you. Why ruin it?"

"Being with you would be ruining it?"

"Yes," he said directly. "You know it would."

She shook her head, knowing why he was doing this. He didn't want to ruin her, but he didn't understand that she was already ruined. From the moment she saw him, she had been ruined, knowing that her future could belong to no one else.

"All I want is you. Don't worry about the future. Just worry about us."

"Bella … Can't I love you enough to worry about you? I can't see you … just throwing your life away like this. I can't handle it. You'll learn to resent me."

"I could never resent you. Not for a second."

"You say that now. But how about when the going really gets tough? You've never dealt with difficult things."

She pulled back, resenting his words. "How could you say that? You believe just because I was born into wealth that I haven't had a difficult moment?"

"I'm not saying you've never had a difficult moment. Just not any difficult moments like mine."

Shocked, Bella moved away from him—never had he been so cold. Now, just as they were planning on their escape, he was pulling away and acting as if he didn't want it … acting as if he didn't want her. She was almost too afraid to ask, not wanting to hear his truthful answer.

Perhaps all of this … all of the good times they had shared together … had been no more than a dream. A dream to fill her quiet, lonely days locked away inside a home that felt almost too beautiful to be real. To anyone who saw her, they assumed her life was perfect, but to her, she knew that her life only felt perfect when she was with Edward. Everything else just felt like a waste.

"Why … why are you saying this now?" she stuttered out, hating how vulnerable her voice sounded as she spoke. In front of him, she never wanted to appear weak. "You're the one who wanted to elope and—"

"But then I thought about it and knew it wouldn't be good for you, Bella. I'm not good for you."

"What … what are you saying? Not good for me? You're all I want. All I could ever want."

Just as her breathing was beginning to become shallow in her dream, Bella felt two hands come to cover her shoulders before gently shaking her awake. Her eyes opened to a dark room, and in that moment, she knew if she still had been human, she would be hyperventilating. Everything about the dream had felt so visceral and real. Edward had been human. A living, breathing, normal human. He looked so real, too.

So much so now as she stared up at him, finding his pale skin and undead appearance, it felt increasingly uncanny. Human Edward—even the poor, downtrodden Edward of her dreams—had been stunningly handsome. So beautiful that he could have been a popular subject of paintings. Even as a penniless human, he looked angelic and aristocratic—almost too handsome to be real.

He wasn't real though, was he? That was just the Edward of my dreams. She shook her head as the thought passed fleetingly through her mind. While the rational part of her mind knew that what she had experienced was a dream, another part of her mind couldn't escape the familiar feeling the dream had inspired. It had felt so real. Far too real.

Is it too fantastical to believe that I've known Edward before? Sometime far ago when he had still been human? Is it possible? Considering my current events, couldn't anything be possible?

"What is it?" Edward asked as he pulled her close to rest her head on his structured chest. "A nightmare?"

She was thoughtful for a moment before answering. "No … it was a good dream."

"You looked distressed."

Bella shook her head before gazing up at him. "It just felt so real … It was the two of us … And it all felt so real."

A small laugh escaped his lips before he angled his head down to press a kiss against her temple. "A good dream about us?"

"You were human," she stated without looking at him, unsure whether or not she wanted to see his reaction. "You were human, and we were together. It seemed like a very long time ago. I can still feel everything," she said as she looked down at her limbs, half-expecting to still be wearing her precious gown from the dream. "There was such a feeling of déjà vu. Like we've known each other before or something."

When he didn't respond, Bella angled her head to peer up at him. Stoic and lost in thought, he held her quietly as if he were meditating on her words. Was there any truth to them? Or was this thought merely just her mind feeling quite hopeful?

Could we have known each other before? Could we have been together long before this?