I am very sorry for the long wait. RL has been a little difficult.

Big thanks to Fran for all of her help. If you see any mistakes, they're mine!

Thank you to everyone who reads and reviews! I appreciate your support!

SM owns everything Twilight.

Edward's face is guarded and worried, his Adam's apple bobbing slowly as he watches me carefully.

"Bella," he starts, raising his hands to my shoulders, but I immediately pin them beside his head.

"No."

He swallows thickly again, muttering under his breath.

"Bella," he starts again. "Let's calm down and talk, okay?"

I remain silent, amused by his reactions.

"Great, just great. You piss off a newborn with no help around," he grumbles to himself. "Not that they'd be any help anyway. I would be mated to a gifted bad-ass vampire with an extraordinary shield. Just great."

I smirk to myself, filing this away for the future because there's no way I'm going to let this go now.

Leaning in, I get as close as I can, making my lips just barely graze across his as I speak.

"Be quiet," I hiss.

"Bella—"

Annoyed, I roll my eyes and plant my lips on his, moving my hands from his wrists to his hair, securing him to me.

Edward freezes, his reaction very reminiscent to the first time I kissed him. However, this time, he responds quickly. One hand dives into my hair while the other encircles my waist, holding me tight as I grind against him, a series of moans filtering between us.

He growls in response, pulling me tighter against his front and helping me move against him, showing me what he likes.

"Bella," he grunts against my lips, making me shiver.

I pull back with a smirk, tightening and releasing my fingers that are currently weaving through his hair.

"Yes?" I question sweetly, shooting him a cocky grin.

His breathing is heavy and uneven, his eyes glazed and dark. The hand that held the back of my head slides down my arm, his finger leaving a trail of icy heat that has me shifting, desperate to ease the ache that's settled inside of me.

His other hand squeezes my hip at uneven intervals, squeezing so tightly his knuckles turn white. I smile when I realize it doesn't hurt me at all. In fact, it feels like a massage … with a person that's terrible at giving them.

"Bella," he says again, shaking his head and blinking rapidly.

"You know my name. Congratulations. Was there something else?"

He still appears dazed, especially when I slowly grind myself down on him, loving how his eyes roll back in his head before they flutter closed.

"Bella, stop."

I freeze, wondering if I misread the situation or his readiness for the next step in our relationship. Sure, I assumed he was always ready for sex based on his flirty and suggestive comments, but maybe he was just flirting.

Or teasing.

Belatedly, I realize that just because he's male doesn't mean he's always ready to have sex. After all, he comes from an era where things were chaste between couples.

Or so I've read.

Maybe he thought he was ready but doesn't want to take that step.

"Are you … okay? Are you not ready or something? Because it's fine if you are. I'll take care of myself."

His responding look is one of disbelief, mixed with humor, and desperation.

"Are you … you're fucking with me, right?"

"Do you want me to?" I cheekily ask, patting his cheek once.

His eyes darken, and a low growl rumbles through his chest as he lunges forward, so now I'm the one on my back.

"Bella, it's not that, all right? Believe me, I want to," he tells me honestly, allowing the full weight of him to rest on me.

I definitely feel his want.

"So, what's the problem? Are you waiting for marriage?"

He snorts a laugh. "Would you marry me?"

"I'd have to think about it. Make you sweat about it; figuratively speaking, of course."

"Of course," he mumbles, shaking his head. "Nothing can ever be easy with you, Swan."

"If I were to fall head over heels in love with you and follow you blindly without question, you'd be bored."

"True." He pauses for a moment, gazing at me with intense, dark eyes as if he's trying to see inside my head. "I think we have some things to talk about, Bella."

Ever so slightly, I stiffen but try to play it off. "About what? Everything's fine. I'm fine."

"Bella," he warns, a knowing look in his eye.

Of course, he would know something was off with me … but I'm not going to give in so easily. Not until I figure out what's bugging me for myself.

"Let it go, Edward. We have other pressing things to ponder about."

"Bella—" he says again, shaking his head, but there's a resolved look in his eye that hopefully means he's going to drop this issue.

Maybe my distraction methods are working after all.

I release a strained sigh, rolling my eyes and shaking my head with mock disappointment as I lightly push at his shoulders. "You really know how to ruin the moment, stud. The moment has passed now. Go make good use of your hand."

His eyes narrow, his lips pressed thin. "You're such a brat."

"You bring out the best in me."

I push my hips up and grin with satisfaction as his eyes roll back in his head and his chin drops forward, his lips immediately finding the hollow of my throat.

"You're killing me. I hope you know that," he mumbles, the vibrations making me shiver.

"You don't seem to mind too much," I reply, all breathy and sultry-like.

I didn't even know I could sound like that.

Does it happen automatically, or is this part of my new vampire powers?

Whatever the cause, Edward seems to enjoy it; he grips me tighter, his mouth moving more urgently against my skin, his tongue and teeth now added to the mix.

I groan in approval, tilting my head back to give him better access. He hums in response, his hands sliding down my side, his fingers teasing my breast before skimming down to my thigh, hoisting my leg around his hip.

I gasp, and Edward takes the invitation to deepen the kiss, his tongue stroking mine sensually. I respond in equal fervor, my hands in his hair, holding him to me as I push myself against his hardness, my eyes rolling back at the feeling.

Everything is too much and not enough.

The sensory overload has my skin aflame as an overwhelming feeling of inexplicable need rockets through me. One hand remains planted in Edward's hair while the other pulls and tugs at his shirt. The sound of fabric ripping fills the silence, and Edward pulls back, tossing aside the two halves of his shirt before reclaiming his previous position.

He claws and pulls at the fabric of my shirt, managing to take it off me without tearing it pieces like I did his.

His hands roam every inch of new skin revealed, his eyes following their path like a hawk, his lips glistening in the dim light of the moon.

I take the chance to do the same to him, biting the corner of my lip at the sight of him. He's not bulked up with muscles, but there's obvious definition in his chest, stomach, and arms, showing off a good amount of mass I won't complain about.

Reaching out to glide my hand down his chest, I scratch my fingernails along as I go, satisfied with the visible shiver that rocks through his body. I stop at the top of his jeans, and his dark eyes shoot to me, wild and hungry and questioning.

I nod once, and it's all the confirmation he needs.

Hurriedly, he removes his pants and boxers in one swoop, allowing me to see all of him. I pause, my eyes wide as I take him in, swallowing thickly at the sight of him, hard and ready.

Edward raises an eyebrow at my pants, motioning with his fingers that they need to come off. I follow suit, feeling a tiny bit awkward as I lay out in the open wilderness completely naked.

That's all forgotten the moment he groans and squeezes his eyes closed, pressing his fist against his mouth with a painful sounding grunt.

"What?" I ask, my tone defensive.

"You're killing me," he mumbles against his hand. "Do you know how many times—" he trails off in a groan, his eyes hungrily drinking me in from head to toe.

"I'd rather not think about your pervy thoughts, thanks," I sarcastically drawl, feeling a little better … and little more empowered if I'm being honest.

… Which won't be a good thing for him in the future because this reaction is so going to be brought up later.

"You know, for someone who claims to have pictured me naked, you seem to be doing a lot of not looking."

"Because if I do," he grinds out through clenched teeth. "I won't last long."

"Oh," I murmur, feeling smug and a little more impatient and frustrated the longer this continues.

"Well, that sounds like awful … for you, but uh—"

I stop as his eyes snap open to glare at me, irritation mixed with lust and something else I can't place.

"It'll be a problem for both of us, Bella, believe me."

"Not really. Like I said, I can take care of—"

Once more, I'm stopped as he surges forward, his body looming over mine, his arms framed on either side of my head.

"Not the time. I definitely want to see it, but not now."

I shrug a shoulder, lifting a leg to wrap around his hip, pushing past the lump of nervousness suddenly lodged in my throat as I feel him against my thigh, hard and ready.

I'm not completely innocent by any means; I've had a couple of boyfriends I've fooled around with, but things never went this far.

The farthest I've gotten is having my shirt off and my jeans around my knees before I heard my father coming home.

Nothing kills a mood faster than your ex-boyfriend going paler than your current boyfriend and breaking his ankle as he tries to jump out of the window.

Shaking my head and focusing on the moment, I look at Edward, my nervousness easing away as I spot his hooded eyes and bared teeth.

"Bella—"

"Yes?" I reply, smiling innocently. "Are we going to do this? Because I'm getting bored and—"

My words are cut off as Edward pistons his hips forward, stealing the breath from my lungs. I freeze as a growl roar through my lips at the unfamiliar sensation.

It's not painful, but it doesn't feel particularly pleasant either.

Edward stills, his eyes wide as he stares down at me, a look of horrified regret on his face.

"Shit; shit, I'm sorry, Bella. I'm so sor—"

Tentatively, I push my hips up, experimenting with the feeling of him inside me. He groans, resting his forehead against my chest, his breathing labored.

"Shut up," I murmur, my own breathing fast. "Let me try something, okay?"

He groans in response, his lips moving softly over the top of my breast as I continue moving slowly, and before long, Edward is meeting my movements, softly pushing forward as I tilt toward him.

After a few seconds, the uncomfortableness begins to fade, and I move faster, my hands roaming over his back, pulling and scratching at his impenetrable skin.

Edward lifts his head to look at me, his eyes boring into mine for a long moment, looking for an answer. When he gets it, he mirrors my movements, groans, and grunts of pleasurable approval escaping his lips and overlapping mine.

His hands, like mine, are everywhere on my body, moving over every inch of skin he can reach before settling on my hip, helping me get closer to him as we move together. It creates a wonderful friction that makes my stomach tighten and my muscles lock as we continue.

Feeling it, Edward groans loudly in my ear, his lips blindly finding mine as he squeezes his eyes closed, his face pinched. He mumbles something under his breath I can't decipher, but then again, I'm too distracted by the feeling starting to surge throughout me, just out of reach.

A few more jerky thrusts later, his satisfied groan reverberating in my ear.

That feeling of relief and tension ebbs away, leaving an odd mixture of disappointment and pleased satisfaction behind.

I didn't have an orgasm; I know that much … so why do I feel okay with that?

Maybe I had a mini orgasm, and that was enough.

There's nothing but silence and stillness for a long moment before Edward pulls away from me, a noise of disapproval falling from him—and surprisingly, me.

He shoots me a smirk and a wink when he catches my eye. "Oh, we're not done here," he tells me, kissing his way down my body before his shoulders are between my thighs.

As soon as he makes contact with me, I scream out, a hand diving in his hair to hold him in place, though I doubt he'd move for anything, considering he sounds … extremely pleased.

Due to the stimulation still buzzing through my body, it doesn't take me long to scream out in pleasure, throwing my head back and falling lax into the snow.

Edward slowly pulls away from my body, collapsing next to me with a dazed and joyful expression on his features. I can't help but laugh at the sight of him, looking euphorically happy. My laugh stuns him from enchantment, and a single shoulder jerks upward before he slides an arm around my neck and pulls me into his side. Carelessly, he tosses the tattered remains of his shirt over us, a pointless practice, but something appreciated just the same.

"Sorry," he murmurs, his eyes closed in peaceful surrender.

"For what?"

"You didn't … finish the first time."

I snicker at his hesitancy, his antiquated ways coming through. "It's fine."

"Not for me," he replies, his tone slightly heated and perturbed as if it personally offended him. "Next time."

"Pfft. You're overly confident. What makes you so sure there'll be a next time, bud?"

He opens one eye to peek at me, his lips curling in a cocky smirk. "Just a hunch."

"Uh-huh. Well, you'll be wrong. There's not going to be a next time for you. This is one and done type of thing. I'm fine now, thanks."

He hums, not looking bothered at all by this news, though why should he?

He just got laid.

"I might be worried if you hadn't just attacked me out of nowhere," he states, his tone full of confidence. "It'll happen again. Especially when you want me distracted."

I shrug a shoulder, feigning ignorance. "It was the only way to get you to shut up and quit pissing me off. I will admit, however, that I was curious as what it would be like to have sex with you. Now I know. I'm good."

His mouth drops open in shock, his eyes widening as wide as saucers, clearly affronted and surprised. Moments later, they narrow, and he snaps his lips closed with an audible snap.

He scoffs, shaking his head. "Yeah, right."

I pat his chest twice, laying my head over where his silent heart rests. "It's okay to lie to yourself. You'll see in time."

Another huff leaves him, and he starts muttering under his breath.

"Pain in the ass … I swear, she's evil … I can't believe—"

"Sweet talking me won't work," I cheekily tell him.

He laughs. "We had a nice moment going there and then—"

"You ruined it by being cocky," I finish. "Don't deny it, jerk."

"You're such a pain in the ass."

"So you've said. A million times. You know, with your old age, I would have thought you'd have better insults. I'm not impressed, and actually, I'm a little embarrassed for you."

"Jeez," he says with a heavy sigh as if he's disappointed. "What a pair we are."

Leaning up on my elbow, I quirk an eyebrow and purse my lips. "That sounded like regret there, bud."

His reply is immediate and strong as he opens his eyes to stare at me unblinkingly. "Never. You're who I want and what I need. If it were anyone else or you were any different, I wouldn't be happy. You're my equal."

I'm rendered speechless by his declaration, my eyebrows high on my head and my mouth opening and closing like a fish as I try to find something poignant to say in return. Nothing seems to equal his amazing, yet heavy words, and it bugs the hell out of me.

What do you say in response to something like that?

Ditto?

Same?

Those are all idiotic and simple responses to something meaningful that was confessed.

"Well," Edward says with a smirk. "I know how to render you speechless now. It's not as fun as your way, I'll have you know. Feel free to shut me up anytime. Now, would be very preferable."

I huff a laugh, flipping him off. "Asshole. I was just amazed you could be sweet and kind."

"Me too, honestly."

I laugh once more, settling back at his side. Edward wraps an arm around my shoulders, his lips pressed to the top of my head with a contented sigh. I close my eyes, relishing in the moment of peace and serenity.

"Edward?" I whisper after a moment.

"Hmm?"

"It's the same for me."

"I know."

I grin at his cockiness, smacking his stomach with the palm of my hand. The air leaves him in a burst, and he immediately grabs my hand, holding it tightly to his chest.

"No violence," he playfully scolds. "Unless it's leading somewhere."

Snickering, I playfully nip at his chest, smirking at his less than impressed scowl. He's trying to appear irate and annoyed, but I can see the glazed look of lustful hope in his eyes.

I'm not unwilling to have another round, but it won't be that easy.

"Give it a rest. You haven't had enough?"

"With you? I don't think it could."

Once more, I'm rendered speechless, but this time, I'm better prepared with a retort.

"You just want to get laid again."

"I'm not … opposed to the idea," he starts. "I mean, technically, we do have to have sex more than once to see if it gets better or worse. For scientific purposes."

"Of course," I mock. "Too bad it won't be any time soon for you to find out."

Edward sighs and mutters something under his breath, probably not believing me for a second, but I don't say anything more on the matter. Closing my eyes, I allow my body to rest heavier against him, my muscles relaxing as I do so.

I feel as if I could almost fall asleep here, wrapped in his arms.

It's quiet and calm, with the soft splattering of snow slowing drifting down from the clouds and onto the earth. It reminds me of home, of listening to the steady rainfall against the roof and the glass of my window.

The memory of my room is slightly hazy, as if I'm looking at it from underwater, but I can still picture my favorite color painted on the walls, half-hidden by the posters of my favorite horror movies and musical bands.

There are a few candid family photos tacked to the corkboard near my desk, as well as doodles Rose and I have done in the past.

I remember my drawing notebook on my bed, buried underneath the blankets I had whipped off sometime the night before, thanks to a random period of unbearable heat.

The soft glow from the string lights blurs together in out-of-focus points of white, scaling up my walls.

A heavy feeling of homesickness curls within me, making my eyes burn and my throat tighten. A sound reminiscent of a choked cry escapes me before I can stop it. I clear my throat in an effort to hide the noise, and I bring a hand up to my face to wipe at the nonexistent tears, burying my face in Edward's chest.

Edward says nothing about my outburst; he merely holds me tighter and presses a kiss to my head. I know he wants to say something, to confront me on what's going through my head. I hear the familiar intake of air someone makes right before they start speaking.

However, it never comes.

Instead, he starts to hum a familiar song.

It takes me a moment, but I recall hearing it in my sleep before … a song Edward had been caught singing to me when I struggled with nightmares. I hold him tighter, taking his silent support and focusing on his song, pushing everything else out and away from the bubble we have here.

When the song is over, he starts over again, his fingers gently caressing along my shoulder and upper arm.

"My first night as a vampire was a mess," he starts softly when he's done humming. "I was confused, thirsty … and had all these voices in my head. Carlisle's was the loudest because he was there with me. With his voice and the others, they were just … all talking over each other. I couldn't make out what they are saying, and that just made it worse. Plus, with our advanced senses, you know it can be overwhelming."

Wordlessly, I nod, listening carefully to his tale.

"It was like … they were all screaming. At me. At each other. At no one in particular, really. They were just screaming to scream. I didn't really handle it well," he muses wryly. "I squeezed my head until I was sure it would pop off. Actually, I think it was going to. I heard a cracking sound, and Carlisle had to wrestle my hands away from my head."

"Where did he take you?" I wonder why his father hadn't taken him away from other people.

"The outskirts of Chicago; a little hunting cabin in the middle of nowhere, near the lake."

"Chicago?" I question, shocked about the location.

"Yeah. I was born and raised in Chicago," he patiently replies. I'm sure he had told me this before, but I don't recall it. I know he told me he was born in the early nineteen hundreds, but I guess I blocked out the location.

Then again, where your boyfriend is from doesn't really matter when you find out he was born in 1901.

"When I was changing, Carlisle moved me to the cabin, to be away from people. It wasn't far enough for my gift, though. I didn't smell them, but I still heard them," he tells me, tapping at his temple. "After he had tackled me, I threw him through the side of the cabin and tried running away. I didn't get very far; the voices … they were crippling. Agonized. Angry. Happy. Sad. It was just too much. So, I decided on another approach. Beating my head into a rock."

I'm shocked by his confession, but at the same time, I understand it. The extraordinary senses vampires have are too much for me to handle right now. I can hear the snow softly falling to the earth and the distant sound of animals scurrying away in fright due to our proximity.

I can't imagine hearing people's thoughts on top of that.

"You should have gone into the theater with your dramatics," I tease, trying to erase the oncoming shadows looming over his face.

He smirks, smoothing his fingers over the top of my cheek. "One year I did."

My mouth drops open in shock, wondering what year this was and what he did. But before I can ask anything about it, he continues.

"Carlisle quickly came to my aid and figured out what was going on after I responded to several of his thoughts. He then started moving me out here, away from everyone. James and Victoria joined in the middle of the journey to help him, just in case I came across any humans."

"Did you?"

His grimace is all I need to know, but he answers anyway.

"I did. And I killed him. I feel bad about that one; he was on his way to join his family out in California. He sent them ahead when the Spanish Influenza started getting out of hand."

I'm not sure what to say, so I don't say anything. I squeeze him tighter, offering my silent support.

"Carlisle later told me he was sick; he didn't leave soon enough to miss getting sick himself. I still feel bad, though. His last thoughts were of his family."

"You probably saved him from suffering, though. If I remember correctly, the Spanish Flu was horrible."

Edward nods, lips pursed. "Yeah, I know. I still feel bad, but at least he's with them now."

"I never pegged you for a spiritual person."

He shrugs a shoulder. "I'm a vampire who can read minds. I'm sure I'm not the only supernatural creature out there."

My eyebrows raise high on my head, and I rattle off the creatures I've seen from my favorite show. "Really? Are there ghosts? Witches? Demons? Bigfoot? Wendigo?"

He huffs a laugh. "Probably. I think Bigfoot is a hoax, though. They probably saw Emmett and mistook him for an ugly beast."

I laugh as well, but for a different reason. I can see Emmett walking around the woods wearing an ape costume, trying to scare unsuspecting campers.

"So, you're saying your first night was worse than mine, huh?"

"It's not a competition. Everyone is different … but I will say this … I didn't have sex my first night as a vampire," he tells me, his smile smug and cheeky.

"Ugh," I respond, rolling my eyes. Taking a handful of the snow left around us, I dump it on his face, burying his arrogant features underneath a layer of white. "Yeah. well, like I said, you ass, we'll see if it happens again."

"We sure will," he responds, his tone muffled.

I grunt in acknowledgment, pouring more snow onto his face, completely muffling his laughter. I laugh along with him, continuing to toss handfuls at him, howling with laughter as he shoots up, sending snow showering around us.

Playfully growling, he starts tossing snow in my direction, and I duck and weave, trying to dodge his attacks, but getting hit every time.

I don't care, though.

It's fun … and it's even more fun because the remains of his tattered shirt are flowing around me, not really covering much of my skin.

Something Edward can't keep his eyes off of.

Coming up with a new plan to win this fight, I switch up my tactics and make sure my movements are slow and purposeful, stretching my arms out, so the shirt opens just enough for him to see more of me. When he's thoroughly distracted and intently staring, I rush at him, shoving the snow at his chest. I giggle with glee as he stumbles backward, a look of shock replacing the carefree elation that had been there.

Before he can reach for me, I zip a few feet away with a laugh, kicking snow in his direction.

My force is a little rougher than intended, and it showers a huge pile of snow and earth at him, turning him into a skinny snowman.

"Really?" he asks, looking between me and the mess covering him.

I shrug in response, grinning widely as he nods once, an eyebrow cocking as his tongue swipes across his bottom lip, and he wipes the snow that clings to his skin. My eyes zero in on his movements, watching him closely as snow slides from his skin, gently falling back to the earth.

"Okay, then." He pauses, smirking as he notices my appraisal of him. "It's on."

It takes me a moment to comprehend his words, but when they finally click, he's already racing toward me, snow packed in his fists. I shriek and jump, intending to run away, but I'm not as quick as I thought.

One of Edward's arms slides around my waist, bringing my back flush with his front while the other dumps snow onto my head. I begin to struggle but pause as Edward rolls over onto me, his eyes a dark onyx.

"Bella," he whispers, his voice a low, throaty growl that elicits a hum of approval from me. "Don't make me wait."

His request is more than evident; I can feel him against me, ready and wanting, but the stubborn part of me can't give in so easily.

"For what? Christmas? I haven't gotten you anything."

"I can think of something I'd like," he suggestively says, allowing more of his weight to fall on me right where I can feel him, confined to his boxers, pressing against me deliciously.

"I don't know. You're such a pain," I tease, my voice more breathless than I'd like it to be.

"That's why we're perfect for one another."

"Hmm. Really?"

Slowly, he nods, his lips brushing against mine softly as he grinds against me; my breath stutters as my body violently shivers. I tighten my legs around his waist, wanting—no, needing—to feel him closer.

He gasps, his hooded eyes widening as he stares down at me, shocked and amazed, before one of his hands impatiently pushes down the fabric separating us.

I breathe a laugh at his brazen actions. "Getting ahead of yourself, huh?"

"I'll stop," he tells me, starting to pull away, but my subconscious doesn't let him get far. I tighten my hold on him, a noise of protest leaving me. He smirks in victory, settling against me once more. "Didn't I tell you? You want me."

Weaving a hand through his hair, I bring his lips to mine, biting his lower lip.

"Let's not forget you're practically begging me here. I think I win."

"We could both win if we keep our mouths shut."

I snicker, tightening my hold even further, feeling the tip of him graze my entrance. A deep groan rumbles from his chest, and his hands slide underneath my shoulders, anchoring me to him.

"Bella, please."

"There it is," I breathless tease. "You're begging again. I love it."

He gives a playful grin, but it's strained. "Such a pain in the ass."

"Well, stop talking and get moving," I tell him pointedly.

His teasing grin is gone, replaced with joyful determination as he slowly pushes forward, only to freeze moments later.

A noise of protest leaves my throat, but before I can say anything, I hear it.

The sound of footsteps across the snow; it's light and graceful, barely touching the surface of the ground, but enough for a slight crunch as it makes contact with skin.

There are two of them that much I can tell; they're both light and graceful, but one of them steps harder than the other, while the other walks light and delicately.

"Someone's coming. Two of them," I mutter, my head whipping around toward the sound, but all I see is a wall of white. My eyes travel up and around, but the endless white never changes.

It surrounds us from top to bottom. There's a little sliver of cloudy sky above us, painted in a sickening mauve color from the rising sun, but everything else is completely covered.

"Uh, Edward?"

"I know," he mumbles, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion as he rolls away from me, his eyes distant and unseeing. "I hear their footsteps, but I can't hear their thoughts. Are they blocking me? Why would they be blocking me? They should know your senses are heightened; sneaking up on a newborn is nearly impossible, unless they're feeding."

"Edward," I repeat. "Look around us."

He does as I request, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion before raising his head as he realizes what's going on.

"Bella? Something you want to tell me?"

Sitting up, I shrug my shoulders, throwing my hands in the air. "I don't know! I know just as much as you do."

"Look at that," one of them says, their voice amused and feminine. "They built a snow-fort. How cute. How come you've never done anything like that for me?"

A hazy image of a woman with curly, red hair enters my head, and by her side is a familiar-looking man with shoulder-length, dirty blonde hair tied back in a ponytail with a leather cord.

His features are similar to Carlisle—I know he's related to him; I remember piecing it together from seeing them standing side by side, but I can't recall their names.

A low, frustrated growl slithers from my chest.

I had forgotten their names … what else have I forgotten?

I wish I could tell what memories and names I've misplaced, but until I come across it, I won't know until that moment, which majorly sucks.

Edward winds an arm around my shoulders, his lips at my ear. "James and Victoria. He's—"

"Carlisle's brother. Well, half-brother," I interrupt, relieved I didn't forget their faces, just their names.

Edward gives me a small smile, turning toward the approaching footsteps.

"If you want a snow fort, all you have to do is ask, babe," James says sweetly.

"Nah. It's too much like a house."

James chuckles as the pair comes to a stop just outside our snow bubble.

"Hello, in there!" James bellows with a laugh. "I'm going to break your house down!"

I see the shadow of his hands start to come down on the side, but before he can make contact, his shadow is suddenly gone, and all that can be heard from the pair is the breath leaving their lungs as they're flung into the air.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I'll see you next time!