I apologize for the delay in posting. RL sucks sometimes. :/

BIG thanks to Fran and Mr G and Me for all their help. I appreciate it TONS!

Also, huge thanks go to everyone reading this! MWAH!

SM owns everything Twilight.

Suspiciously, I eye him, wondering if he's going to fly off the handle again or weasel his way out of this. He looks calm and relaxed; his posture lose and open. He stares at me expectantly, his golden eyes twinkling with humor as he watches me take him in.

"Seriously?"

He nods once. "Seriously."

"Fine. Wait, I need to know; you didn't kill anyone, did you?"

He rolls his eyes, shaking his head in exasperation. "Of course not. I went to hunt."

The mention of food has my stomach grumbling. "I need to get some food myself. Stay here," I tell him, pointing at the ground. "Don't leave and don't touch anything … at all."

He gives me a salute, gesturing toward the chair near my desk. "May I sit? Or is that forbidden?"

"You're a vampire, aren't you? You don't get tired; you can stand," I reply with a smirk, heading downstairs.

In the kitchen, I quickly make myself a plate of leftovers, frowning at the turn of events this day has taken. If it weren't for Grandmother Beth causing problems, we would all be in a turkey coma right now, lying like slugs in the living room, trying to convince my father to watch anything other football, and begging my mother not to put on her rom-coms.

If it was anything like last year, Rose would argue in favor of my mother, swearing up and down that the made-for-TV movies were holiday movies, even though I think the holiday is merely thrown in as a prop.

Jasper and I would vote for a horror movie but immediately get shut down. We'd still argue, but it's part of the tradition.

In the end, Dad would ignore us all with a small smile, and after he got his fill of pie, he'd hand the remote over to Mom while he sneaked in a second helping. It's always annoying how things turn out; would one horror movie kill anyone?

But now that it seems impossible, I feel a sense of loss and longing for the unofficial tradition that's been taken from us this year.

"Hey. I thought I heard someone up and about," Dad says, his voice croaking in places. "You okay, kiddo?"

"Fine. Just heating up some food. Where is everyone?"

"Jasper is with his friends, Rose went to see Vera … which I don't buy for a second," Dad says, eyeing me skeptically. "Where did she go?"

I'm extremely curious as to why no one told Dad that Rose went to see Emmett—but then again, I have a feeling if he knew the truth, he'd flip.

I'm sure he knows they're seeing each other, but I doubt he knows how serious it's gotten … and I'm not about to let the secret slip.

"No idea," I tell him, lying through my teeth.

Dad levels me with a look. "I'm not stupid, you know. I know she's dating Emmett; that's probably where she is now. I should have sent the both of you to an island in the middle of nowhere," he grumbles.

Playfully, I shake a finger at him. "There goes that double standard. For shame."

He huffs, ignoring me. "Your mother … she went out to meditate, I think," he replies, scratching at the back of his neck. His eyes look at a spot over my head, letting me know it isn't the truth.

I nod and play along, wondering why Mom hasn't told him I know about her yet. It's puzzling to me, but it's her decision, and I'm not one to spoil the fun.

Again.

Like when I accidentally told my parents I knew the tooth fairy wasn't real. Dad had such a forlorn look on his face; I vowed never to break his heart like that again if I could help it.

I think I've done a good job so far … and I'm not going to break my streak anytime soon.

"What happened with Grandmother?"

Dad rolls his eyes, stifling a yawn as he leans against the counter next to me. "She got mad like we expected, but we told her she wasn't welcome in our house until her attitude changed."

My eyes nearly pop out of their sockets, but I'm not upset. In fact, I'm thrilled. I'm glad she was finally told off and put in her place. I don't know what caused her to get such an unpleasant attitude; I think perhaps it was the money, but she's always been kind of rude.

It just got worse when she became rich.

Whatever the reason, she needs to change her attitude; otherwise, she'll end up alone for the rest of her days.

"You think she will?" I ask, adding another minute for my food to heat.

"No idea. Time will tell; but for your mom's sake, I hope so. I know your grandmother is a pain, but she's still Renee's mother. It hurts her deep down that she's being this way." Dad frowns, looking lost, but doesn't let it linger for long. "As for Gran, she got a talking to as well; she wasn't helping matters either, but she apologized. She's coming the day after tomorrow to spend a little time with us before heading back to Florida."

"Cool. I'm glad she's turned around. She's my favorite," I say with a grin, making Dad chuckle.

"She'll be glad to hear it."

"It's too bad we couldn't have Thanksgiving," I remark, trying not to let the sadness show in my voice. "It's probably gonna be the last one with Rose for a while, right? She's going to college soon; she'll probably be too overloaded with school to come home."

It obviously doesn't work because Dad pulls me into his side, kissing the top of my head. "I don't think an apocalypse could keep her away during the holidays … as for dinner, well, the day isn't over with yet."

"Yeah, but I'm already eating!" To further my point, I pull my plate out of the microwave, sliding it onto a potholder and grabbing a fork from the dish strainer.

Dad blows a raspberry, waving at my plate dismissively. "There's always later tonight. Don't worry so much," he says with a wink.

I can't help but wonder if he and Mom have something planned, but I know if I ask him, I'll only get teasing remarks and no straight answers.

Heading back upstairs, I find Edward exactly where I left him, standing in the middle of my room. I feel the tiniest bit bad for making him stand for so long, but he doesn't appear to be tired in the slightest.

"You could have sat down," I remark, folding my legs underneath me as I sit on the end of my bed, balancing the plate on my knee.

Edward frowns, shaking his head. "And fall for that trap? I wasn't born yesterday."

I crack a smile, starting to eat. "When were you born?"

"My human birth was 1901," he responds, and in the blink of an eye, he's sitting in front of me in my desk chair, like he had been there the entire time.

I'm a little taken aback by the quick movement, not used to seeing someone move so fast, but I suppose I'll have to get used to it.

Once my brain catches up with the ultra-fast speed he has, I finally catch on to what he's saying.

My fork noisily drops onto the plate, the sound of metal hitting glass loud in the quiet of the room. I wince, straining my ears for any sign that Dad is coming to investigate, but remember Edward's hearing is much better than mine.

Tilting my head toward the door, I raise an eyebrow, and he shakes his head once, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

"You seem surprised," he remarks. "I thought you knew I'm a vampire."

"Yeah, but 1901? That's … wow. You look good for an old guy."

"I figured, otherwise you wouldn't have much to do with me," he gloats.

Rolling my eyes, I start in on my food once more. "That has nothing to do with it. It's your amazing and pleasant personality," I remark in a sarcastic droll.

He huffs a laugh through his nose, running a hand through his hair as he slumps a little in the chair, throwing his left leg over his right, resting his ankle upon the opposite knee.

"I'm sure; if you think I'm old, you'll really get a kick out of Carlisle's age."

"And how old is Carlisle?"

"We don't know for sure, just that he was born in the early 1800s. There were no birth records back then."

The bite of food I had taken goes down the wrong way, and I cough, waving away Edward's outstretched hand, ready to dislodge the food.

"I'm good … shit. He's super old."

Edward laughs again. "Yes, but there are others that are older."

My eyes bulge at this. "Really? And they look the same?"

"Of course; when we're turned, we're frozen at the age we were bitten."

I nod, wondering if there are any vampires turned before reaching adulthood. That must suck; to be a child forever? Never to grow up?

Yeah, that would suck big time.

"Are there any child-vampires?"

"No," he answers immediately. "It's not permitted; it was tried in the past, but our … rulers agreed it was too cruel to do. Plus, children aren't known for discretion, so that puts us at risk."

"Wow."

"My vampire birth was in 1918. I was dying from Spanish Influenza, and Carlisle was my doctor. Well, my family's doctor. My father succumbed first, then my mother, though she had a dying wish; for me to be saved at any cost. She begged Carlisle to save me, and he did."

"Were you upset by that?" I ask, wondering whether he was pissed by the fact he didn't get a choice in this new life he'd been given. I honestly don't know how I'd be if I were in his shoes … though being a vampire is pretty cool, it seems.

Edward thinks about this but ultimately shakes his head. "No. My mother didn't want me to die; she wanted me to have a life, to experience things … and I've certainly done that," he responds dryly.

"Not everything, though, right?"

His reply is soft and almost shy sounding. "No, not everything." After a moment, he speaks again. "It's not all bad, you know, being a vampire. There are disadvantages, sure, but there's a lot of plusses too. It's kind of cool in some ways."

It makes me wonder what the positive and negative sides of being a vampire are, especially when he gets lost in thought, looking past me as he pensively stares.

I nudge his leg with my foot. Immediately, his eyes snap to mine, the cloudiness of his gaze lifting slowly.

"Let's just jump in, shall we?"

Edward's head falls back as he groans lowly. "What have I gotten myself into?"

"A load of shit," I respond with a smirk.

"Apparently."

"Where'd you go this afternoon?" I ask, jumping in with both feet. "To see Billy?"

Surprisingly, he shakes his head. "No. I went to blow off some steam. I was upset you knew about me … that you knew all along. I—I wanted to go scream at Billy, but I know him. He wouldn't have told you if he didn't trust you. I was—"

"Overreacting?" I input when he hesitates.

A scowl forms, but he agrees anyway. "Yes. I don't know why I was so upset; deep down, I know Billy wouldn't just share our secret to anyone, nor would he willingly put you in danger."

"So, he knows about the Volturi?"

Edward looks confused at my knowledge of their rulers, but understanding dawns moments later. I'm sure he's pieced together that I spoke to Alice about everything and she told me about one of their most sacred and understanding rules.

"Yes, they've all known about them since we formed the treaty."

I think back to what Alice said brought her family the wolves together. "Alice said they were rogue vampires?"

"It was. They were passing through but killing too many at one time. Generally, Carlisle doesn't like to impose his views on … eating … upon others unless they show an interest. So, as a rule, when we see a pattern of killing or pick up on another vampire's scent, we leave them be. Unless they're bringing untoward attention toward us. In this case, these two vampires were doing just that. Back then, it wasn't as dangerous as it is now; there are many more ways for information to reach people: television, internet, cell phones. Back then, it was mainly word of mouth and newspapers, but it was enough. If one person suspected, then the entire town, followed by any surrounding towns, would know in a matter of days."

"And that was the case then?"

"Sort of. No one was really spared during their feeding. Women, men… children. That was what got us involved."

"So adults are okay then?"

Edward shrugs, unperturbed and indifferent, which kind of disturbs me a little. Images of Edward ruthlessly and uncaringly killing without a second thought makes my stomach clench and churn.

In my head, I can see it perfectly; Edward moving amongst the shadows, his eyes glittering red as he soundlessly and ruthlessly stalks his unsuspecting victim, toying and playing with it, making vague noises that first irritate them, then slowly transforms into fear when they realize they're being hunted.

Swallowing past the thickness in my throat, I set my plate off to the side and allow my food to settle. Edward doesn't appear to notice my movements, his expression far away as he stares off into the distance, seemingly lost in thought.

I'm honestly kind of disturbed that he's so blasé about this; from being around him and his family, I'd gotten the impression they valued human life.

But had I been fooled?

Is Edward some master manipulator, waiting for me to feel comfortable around him before he strikes?

Immediately, I dismiss the thought.

He may be a supernatural creature, but I don't get the whole "manipulator" vibe from him. Not when he's so easy to read.

While it's hard to let go of Edward's non-reaction to killing people, I have to remind myself that he needs blood to survive. Granted, there is another way for him to survive, but if he doesn't like it, who am I to scold him?

He's a vampire. Blood is his survival.

Besides, I feel like perhaps the people he killed deserved it somehow … which disturbs me even more than the initial thought of him killing without guilt.

How can I pass judgment like this? It's not my place.

Having snapped out of his thoughts, Edward watches my movements with a studious eye, looking as if he's waiting for something.

Probably for me to demand he leave, never to return, but I'm not going to.

Not now, anyway.

"Some adults are okay," he starts slowly, still carefully watching me. "But these were innocents; their only crime was being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I couldn't stand for their lives being cut short just because a couple of vampires couldn't control themselves. So, I stepped in and helped my family and the Quileute's dispose of them."

The ball in my stomach releases, and slowly, my muscles loosen and relax. I let go of the breath I didn't realize I was holding and move my head from side to side, willing the tense muscles in my neck to ease further.

Nonchalantly as possible, I pick up my plate and resume eating, though I do it slowly, picking at the food and moving it around instead of actually eating it.

"And it was easy?"

"For the most part," he answers slowly. "They were crafty, but once I got close to them a few times, I was able to pick up on the tenor of their thoughts, and I was able to track them down."

At this, I snort because while I'm not doubting vampires have abilities after seeing what Alice can do, I am doubting he can read minds.

After all, it's a little too convenient that he can supposedly read every mind except mine.

"What?"

"I'm still not sold on the fact that you can read minds," I answer honestly. "I mean, you say every mind is open except for mine? That's a little too easy."

"Yours and your father's … though, his does come in a little bit. It's like a faulty radio; there's some static, with just the barest hint of words coming through," he tells me. His head tilts toward the door, his eyebrows coming together in concentration. "Right now, he's worried about your mother. If the fight with your grandparents was too much for her." He pauses, shock overcoming his features. "Apparently, your Gran knows about your mother. He's worried about how long she's known and what this means for her."

I gasp, nearly jumping up and dropping the plate onto the floor.

Quicker than my eye can see, Edward snatches the plate, holding it an arm's length away, while his other hand reaches for me. When he sees I'm okay, he glares lightly, shaking his head and placing the plate on my desk.

"What?"

"Gran knows," I breathe. "I knew it! She was watching Mom too closely, and I surmised she knew something was off! How? I need to talk to Mom."

Without waiting for his response, I snatch my cell phone up from the bed and dial my mother's number. Edward starts to argue but immediately shuts his mouth when my mother's voice filters through the line.

"Hello?" She sounds winded, and out of breath, which I know isn't possible for her. "Bella? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Does Gran know about you?"

Heavily, she sighs, the action crackling through the speaker. "Can we talk about this later? I'm in the middle of my "me" time."

"Sorry," I quickly tell her, knowing exactly what she's in the middle of doing. "But I have to know. Does she?"

There's a moment of hesitation. "Where's your father? He doesn't know you know, Bella. Considering how he reacted to finding out his mother knows about the supernatural, I hate to think of how he'll react to finding out, you know." She sighs again, and I can picture her biting the corner of her lip while twirling a strand of hair nervously around her finger. "He'll be so upset. He wanted to keep you from this, you know. When Sarah died—"

"Wait," I interrupt, utterly confused. "What does Billy's wife have to do with this?"

"Sweetie, she was killed by a vampire," she softly says, her words laced with pain. "They were run off the road by the vampire hunting in the area. He made their car crash; Sarah was killed instantly, and Billy was left paralyzed. If it weren't for Carlisle and the other Cullens, he would have died too."

My gaze shoots to Edward, who nods solemnly, his lips pursed in a grim line as disappointment and anger wash over him.

Swallowing thickly, I glance away, focusing on a random spot on the wall. I try not to think of that time in my life, knowing it was three times harder for Billy and Jacob. Still, I remember Jacob crying hysterically at the funeral, throwing himself on top of the coffin, begging his father to bring his mother back.

It's one of the few childhood memories I wish I could forget, and it's right up there with finding out Aunt Lillian and Uncle Jack had died.

"You were saying?"

"I don't think we should be talking about—"

"Please," I beg. "Just this once and no more. Until Dad knows."

"All right," Mom says after a moment. "After Sarah died, your father wanted us to move to Florida with Gran. He thought a sunny place like that would be perfect but … well, I didn't. I love this town, and he eventually agreed. But he wanted to keep you kids in the dark; he wanted to protect you from the supernatural. Obviously, we didn't do a good job, but what's done is done. At least none of you have been hurt or killed; that is the important thing. So, please, don't say anything to him," she pleads. "Not yet. If he finds out you've known all along because of that idiot Paul, he'll likely go over there and neuter the poor boy."

I snicker, imagining it play out, and honestly, it's a bit of a stretch, but if Dad wants it done, it'll get done.

Edward hides his smile behind his hand, turning his head away from my view, but his crinkled eyes give him away.

"Of course not. That's between you and Dad. And Paul. So how does Gran know?"

"Oh, she found out after going to a hospital in Olympia when your Dad was in high school. She was there for work and slipped, so she went to the ER. Carlisle was working there at the time; she thought there something odd about him but didn't think anything more of it until she saw him nearly fifteen years later, in another hospital looking completely unchanged. Like you, she listened to the local legends carefully and did a little research, put two and two together … and well, there you go."

"Huh. Okay."

With Mom's confirmation, I guess this means Edward can read minds. How else would he know that Gran knows about vampires? He wasn't here when my parents had that conversation with her. If he weren't, I would swear he was simply messing with me again, but he was with me for a good chunk of their conversation, I'm guessing.

Sure, he could have come here after he left when I blurted out what I knew, but honestly, I see nothing but the truth in his eyes. If he was lying, why wouldn't he try to make me believe he could read my mind, as opposed to everyone else's but mine?

Shit.

I hate it when I'm wrong.

"Now, no more talk about this, okay? I don't want your father to overhear."

Immediately, I look back to Edward, concerned he'll hear our conversation. He immediately shakes his head, tapping his ear. I released a relieved breath and nod.

"Yeah, no problem. Have … fun, I guess?" I tell her, unsure of the proper etiquette for a vampire eating.

Mom laughs, sounding carefree and light. "Thanks, baby. I'll see you soon."

"Later."

I hang up and toss the phone onto the bed, looking at Edward. He smirks, his fingers tapping against his upper thigh in an even rhythm.

"So? Satisfied?"

"I guess," I grumble. "So, you read minds … except for mine."

He nods once. "Yes. And Alice can't see you either … or me, even when I'm with you. She can see around you," he says when I'm about to argue. "When you're not directly involved in something, she can see fine. When you are, it's like trying to see through frosted glass. The shapes are there, but it's a headache to try and figure out what's happening."

"So, when Royce—?"

His nostrils flare as his eyes darken. "No. She didn't see that. Emmett and I—we had a strange feeling. Like something was wrong … so we went to find you."

"Huh."

He raises an eyebrow at my less than eloquent response but says nothing.

"So, do I have a super gift too, or what?"

Amused, he laughs, shaking his head. "Perhaps. We won't know until you're turned. If you decide that path." For a moment, I think he's going to speak more on this topic because it looks like there's something he wants to say. In fact, he looks almost hesitant yet hopeful, but he doesn't utter a word. He firmly presses his lips together and looks away, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Now that you've been proven wrong about me lying," he says, smirking at me, while I flip him off. "What now?"

I take a moment, sifting through the questions running through my head, wondering which one to start with, but only one comes to mind.

"Who killed Sarah Black? Did you catch him?"

"Yes," he replies, his answer low and menacing. "He was a friend of Laurent's."

I'm shocked that Laurent was connected to that horrible event too, but at the same time, so completely glad they both got what was coming to them.

"Is it strange that I'm glad? That this vampire and Laurent are dead?"

His response is immediate. "No. I feel no remorse for the people I killed. You shouldn't feel remorse knowing that the vampires who killed your friend's mother … the same vampire that killed the people you know and attacked your mother is dead. There's no shame in it."

I'm shocked at his response. My skin tightens, and the hair on the back stands on end. Does this make us crazy? Are we no better than the evil people who hurt others?

"These people you killed—"

"They weren't good people, Bella," he starts, his tone low and dangerous. "For years, I struggled with what I heard in people's thoughts—their … depraved fantasies, their memories. It sickened me. What one person could do to another, just because they could … because they wanted to because they were bored. It was depravity, pure, and simple." His face takes on a haunted and sickened expression. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear he's about to vomit. "These … monsters … thought they could get away with it, and I stepped in to remind them they couldn't. At first, I didn't kill them; I reported them to the police; handed over the evidence on a silver platter. Some were sent to prison; others got away with it." At this, his expression returns to the dark, monstrous mask, the true face of the animal living within him. "I got tired of it happening, so I took matters into my own hands."

"By killing them." My words aren't a question but a statement. Nevertheless, he nods.

"Yes. And I enjoyed it." Audibly, he swallows, guilt flashing in his eyes as he looks away. "My parents hated that I killed them. They never said or thought it outright, but I could tell … they hated that I graduated to killing. That's why I have my own apartment. I didn't want to hear their thoughts, their disappointment when they saw my red eyes."

"But you were saving people."

He jerks a shoulder upward, picking at the leg of his pants. "They didn't see it that way. A life is a life, no matter what they do. Don't misunderstand; they didn't approve of these people's actions once I told them," he clarifies, his face twisting in disgust as he utters the word "people."

I can't imagine being him, seeing every depraved thing a psychopath has done to their victims … to have that in your head, I can't imagine how he stays sane.

An overwhelming feeling of empathy for him washes through me, and I reach forward, tugging on the arm of the chair, in hopes he'll scoot closer to me.

Puzzled, his head tilts to the right as he stares, silently questioning what I'm doing.

"Move closer to me," I tell him, my voice no louder than a whisper.

A small, shy smile lifts the corners of his lips, and he does as requested. I expect some kind of smart ass comment about this, but he says nothing. Instead, he slides his hand into mine, twining our fingers together, squeezing once.

"My parents wanted me to return to reporting them," he continues, his voice lower. "But I couldn't. I loved the thrill too much. I loved seeing them suffer the way they made their victims suffer. Instead, I continued what I wanted to do. I got my own place so they wouldn't have to witness the after-effects of my hunting. It's not ideal; my parents want me with them, but I can't let these monsters keep hurting people."

Being a third party, I can see both sides.

On the one hand, these people need to suffer, not just for a few hours, while Edward tortures them. They need to be stopped so they won't hurt anyone else.

It's true they can't all be stopped. Some will slip through the cracks, and those individuals need to be caught so they can't hurt anyone else.

On the other hand, it's not up to him to decide whether they live or die. He may be powerful, but their fate shouldn't rest solely on his shoulders.

Plus, the thought of their blood giving Edward sustenance doesn't sit well with me. I understand his actions, but he doesn't need to be tainted by their evilness any more than he already has.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine," I reply, hoping my voice sounds as strong as I want to be. "You don't hunt them anymore, right?"

He blinks, clearly surprised, but continues. "No. The Quileute's and my parents … they understand it to a certain degree but don't really like it. When they asked me to come and help, they told me killing humans wasn't permitted. I didn't agree, but I don't do it anymore. If I was going to be around innocent humans for long periods, I couldn't have that kind of rage in me."

I'm puzzled by his phrasing, but without uttering a single word, he answers me.

"When I was in that frame of mind, I was … dangerous and extremely angry. The human blood in my system made it worse. It fueled my anger, and I let the animal in me run loose. I was by myself for the most part, so it didn't matter if I behaved like a monster. The only people who saw me like that were my victims … and they didn't survive for very long afterward."

I shiver at the darkness in his tone, feeling my heart accelerate in my chest. Edward smiles wryly, starting to pull his hand away from mine, but I hold him tighter, shaking my head once.

"That's why you were so pissed when we first met?"

"Partly. You just bring out the worst in me," he teases.

"You're such a dick," I mutter, flipping him off and waving my middle finger in his face.

He laughs, capturing my hand and bringing it to his mouth for a quick kiss. "But yes, that's why I was an asshole. I was coming off human blood, and well … you smelled good. Better than anything I had ever smelled."

It's strange, but I feel a sense of pride for this, and I sit up straighter, trying not to full out grin, but Edward catches on quick.

"Only you would be happy about that."

"Sorry."

His eyes narrow ever so slightly. "No, you're not."

Pressing my lips tightly together, I shrug and pull my hand back so I can continue eating. Surprisingly, there's not a lot of food left, but I still finish it anyway. "It's in the past. So, why did you touch my shit? And take my shirt?"

"Mainly, it was to get used to your scent. I didn't want to kill you … I mean, I thought about it. You really pissed me off."

I give him a droll, unamused look, which he laughs off. Gently, his fingers brush through my hair, caressing the colored strands with his fingertips before gliding down my cheek, his touch lighter than a feather. The sensation is extremely sensual, and a shiver slithers down my spine as I close my eyes in delight. When he begins speaking again, I try to refocus my attention on him, but it's difficult as his fingers trail down my neck.

"I wouldn't have, but I didn't really trust myself. That's why I came here. If I could be around your scent without you around, then I could control myself better."

"And did you?"

"I did. Rather quickly, actually. I was surprised."

"Yet you kept coming back. Why?" I ask because I have a feeling there's more to this than what he's saying.

Seemingly embarrassed, he breaks eye contact with me, instead following the path of his fingers. "I … I liked being close to you. I can't explain it. Just being by you—it was nice."

Still, I feel like he's holding back. "And?"

Unabashed, he looks me dead in the eye. "I told you; I like pissing you off."

While I share his sentiment, I can't let this go unpunished. Slowly, I release a breath and allow my hand to drop to the bed, sliding it backward. To keep his attention off my actions, I lean toward him, watching as his eyes darken ever so slightly.

"Edward?" I breathe, brushing my lips against his.

Audibly, he swallows, putting my pressure against my lips before pulling back. "Yes?"

"You're an ass."

Jerking back with wide eyes, he gapes, and before he can react, I grasp the pillow in a fist, lunging forward and whacking him in the face with it.

It makes a muted sound as it makes contact, and despite the fact that something soft like a pillow could never hurt him, I still giggle hysterically.

"Huh," he remarks with a slow nod. "Okay, then. You asked for it."

Before I can utter a word, he moves the plate onto my desk and lunges for me. I shriek, biting my lip as an afterthought because my dad walking in on Edward hovering over me on my bed would not be a good thing.

We both freeze, and after a moment, Edward resumes his retaliation, his fingers gently digging into my sides. Squealing, I kick and shove at him, pressing the pillow against his face in an effort to push him off. His muffled laughter fills the air as he continues his assault, quickly ripping the pillow out of my hands and tossing it across the room, where it lands with a muted thump.

"I have more pillows," I threaten breathlessly.

He stops, leaning over me, his front flush with mine. One arm rests near my head, while the other is splayed on my hip, tensing and releasing every so often.

"Well, they are my weakness. I suppose I'll have to stop."

His proximity, coupled with his touch, is rendering me useless. I can't seem to concentrate on anything witty or sarcastic to say as he continues, which I think might be his plan.

"It's a good thing," I tell him, my voice breathless. "I would have won."

"Sure. We'll go with that."

I narrow my eyes in response. "You're powerless against me."

Instead of a smartass comment, the corners of his lips rise in a crooked smile. "I've learned that I am … and so are you for that matter."

There's serious truth in his words, and it frightens me.

We haven't known each other for that long, but there's definitely an intense connection between us. I don't know what it is or how long it'll last, but it's satisfyingly terrifying.

"Maybe. Maybe not," I reply with a nonchalant shrug. "But you'll never know, because—"

I'm suddenly silenced by his lips covering mine. I grunt as he pulls me tighter against him, his hand pressing into my flesh a little too hard. I wriggle a little, trying to get him to loosen his grip, and he does, his touch becoming momentously gentler.

The hand by my head slides under my skull, angling my head and prompting my lips to part. Our kisses are deep and consuming.

Suddenly, the closeness we have isn't enough.

On the same page, Edward shifts, falling into the cradle of my thighs. I groan in approval at the action, wrapping my legs around his waist.

His answering moan tells me he approves as well.

We shift and glide against one another, our breathing coming faster, the quicker we move. When breathing becomes an issue for me, I fist my hands in his hair and tug, but he never removes his lips from my skin. Instead, he moves down to my neck, his pelvis grinding against mine.

There's a strong tugging sensation deep in my belly, and I rush for it, allowing my natural instincts to take over. Edward follows suit, his body jerking wildly as he pulls his face away from my neck and removes his hands from my body, fisting the material of my blanket.

His eyes are black as night, and his jaw is clenched, the muscles straining tightly in his neck.

He's at the breaking point, but if he's not going to stop, then I'm not going to say a word.

Unable to help myself, I lean forward, kissing the side of his throat before nipping at the edge of his jaw. Lowering his head, he groans lowly into my ear, his hips surging forward into mine three times, prompting my release before he stills and relaxes on top of me.

Both of us are gasping for air, completely still as we bask in the aftermath.

"That was—" I pause, unable to find the right words for what I'm feeling, but he seems to know what I'm trying to say.

"Yeah," he replies, still gasping for unneeded breath. He kisses me softly, tenderly, his eyes slowly transitioning back to gold. "There are no words."

"None I can think of," I say with a light laugh.

"So you're saying I've rendered you speechless, huh? Good to know."

He laughs with me, laying his head down beside mine, his cool cheek resting against mine. I had always seen this scene in movies, finding it rather stupid and kind of awkward.

For me, I always thought that after such an activity, you'd want to get cleaned up and get some space, but I'm finding the opposite is true.

I like being close to him. It's a comfort for that moment to be extended, and honestly, it's kind of a relief to know it's not just about getting off. This is about the weird connection we feel and embracing it.

Internally, I roll my eyes at myself because I can't believe I'm turning into such a sappy romance trope, but underneath the cringe-worthy thoughts, it's nice to know we can still be the smartasses we always are.

Running my fingers through his hair, I tug on it, smirking when he growls. "You helped a little."

He huffs and moves to my side, but keeps a hand splayed on my stomach. As I look down, I notice pieces of my blanket wrapped around his fingers, and I pull it off him, blinking in shock and slight annoyance.

"I'll buy you a new one," is his immediate response.

"You definitely will."

"It was either shred the blanket or shred you. Excuse me for wanting to keep you in one piece."

I roll my eyes and toss the shredded remains of my blanket onto the floor. "Whatever. Next time, use your own shit."

"So there's going to be a next time?" he asks with a teasing grin.

"Not with that attitude," I quip, kissing him quickly. "Don't you have to use the bathroom or something?"

"I don't pee," he tells me.

"I figured. I meant to clean up," I tell him, gesturing toward his pants.

"Oh." His face scrunches in discomfort as he moves the fabric of his pants away. "Yeah, probably."

He starts to rise but turns to face me, questions in his expression. "How'd you figure?"

"The first time I went to your house, there was no toilet paper in the bathroom. You had the human act thing down for the most part, but having no toilet paper was a sign."

He remains expressionless for the longest time before snorting. "I wondered why Alice started freaking out when you asked to use the bathroom."

"Yeah. Dead giveaway."

"Obviously."

"I'm also surprised at your choice of mattresses. They're kind of … firm."

He shrugs a shoulder, rising and heading toward the door. "We don't sleep, so it doesn't matter. They're just another place to sit … it makes us feel normal."

"Really? You can't sleep? At all."

He smirks, taking delight in what I don't know. "Nope. We can't fly either. We can run really fast, which gives us the illusion of flying, but we can't. We can't eat human food, but some are more ... tolerable than others. Like raw beef."

My mouth drops open at the new information he's feeding me. "Really?"

He leans against the door, shrugging a shoulder. "Yeah. It's no different than going out to hunt it's just ... chunkier. Our teeth slice through their flesh and some pieces get swallowed. Physically, we can eat, it's just that our bodies don't absorb it and it has to be regurgitated later, and that's not a pleasant experience," he says, his face twisting in disgust.

The thought of throwing up isn't that appealing to me either, and I quickly change the subject.

"What else don't I know? Obviously, you can go out in the sun—"

"Not around people," he tells me. "I've told you the transformation process freezes us … it basically crystallizes our bodies. We turn into living statues that—"

"Sparkle?" I ask, laughter bubbling from my chest.

He rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed with this facet of being a vampire. "Yeah. It sucks," he grumbles. "But we can be in the sun; it just … reveals us for what we are."

Unable to contain it any longer, I lose it.

Rolling on my side, I muffle my laughter into my mattress, thinking of Edward lighting up like a disco ball in bright light. It's rather silly, but in hindsight, he'd be very useful in a blackout; all we'd have to do is shine a bright flashlight on him.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I'm going to go get cleaned up."

When I look over at the door, I expect to see him gone. I'm fully prepared to follow him and muster up the most believable apology I can, but to my surprise, he's still at the door, his hand on the doorknob, frozen in place.

My humor vanishes, and I sit up slowly, wondering if I somehow broke him or something.

"Edward? What is it? What's wrong?"

He whirls around at the sound of my voice, his eyes darting from me to the window before looking back at me, worry and apprehension in his eyes.

Tension makes my back straighten, and my palms begin to sweat.

"What—"

"Your mother's coming," he hisses. "I have to get out of here."

He blurs to the window, pausing once more with one leg hanging out of the window. Cautiously, I walk over and peer down, finding my mother standing below my window, her hands on her hips and an angry scowl on her face.

His lips purse as he looks from her to the woods behind her, but she picks up on his plan before he can do anything.

"Don't even think about it, Edward Anthony Masen Cullen!" she hisses. Her eyes dart to the door, where my father is no doubt, coming to see if she's arrived. "We're going to talk about this."

Resigned, he sighs heavily and trudges back inside. "I'm gonna clean myself up a little," he whispers, his lips pressed against my ear. "I'm already in enough trouble as it is."

I nod and look back toward my mother, expecting to see her still pissed. But as soon as Edward is out of my room, she smiles brightly, covering her face as she laughs.

I can't help but smile in response, shaking my head at her antics.

Yeah, this talk is going to be fun.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Stay safe!