A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts.

Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest belong to me. All mistakes are mine.

Chapter 19 – Precious Things

Edward:

Afterward, when she came to, Bella found herself floating just below the surface of a large, vast ocean. She opened her eyes, but everything looked as if she'd gone diving without goggles – blurred and unfocused. Above her, the sun's rays refracted off the water and put on a glittering light show, as if heat-created crystals were embedded in each drop.

'Is that what made you burn so brightly?'

Someone had asked her that, but she wasn't sure who. Or when. She did know where she was:

at First Beach.

Once, when she was very young, on one of her family's trips to Forks, her godfather and his new wife, Sue, had taken her to First Beach while her parents, who preferred California beaches, slept in.

Godpop, Sue, and Bella went swimming, and Bella was mesmerized by the sparkling waters surrounding her. She asked what caused the sparkling, and when her godfather replied that special diamonds were embedded in each drop of water, her eyes grew wide. Bella then tried to pick up one of these special diamonds, ending with nothing more than disappointment and a wet hand to show for her effort.

Her Godpop's dark, tidy whiskers twitched. "Bells, honey, it's just-"

"Bella, these diamonds surrounding us in the water were set here by long-ago peoples to protect First Beach," Sue said, cutting off Bella's godfather with a smile. "It's our job to ensure they continue to sparkle."

"How?" Bella asked.

"By taking care of the beach and its waters. See, when we love something, really love something," Sue gently stressed, "we take care of it. We nurture it. We keep it safe from everything – sometimes even from ourselves."

Bella thought about that for a moment. "Because if we really love something, we wouldn't want to hurt it, right?"

"Exactly." Sue beamed at her, rubbing her protruding stomach.

Bella sighed. "I'll take care of First Beach. But, if I'm really good and take care of it really well, do you think I'll get to catch one of its special diamonds someday?"

Sue chuckled. "Bella, I have no doubt that someday, you'll have the most amazing, rarest jewels, whatever they may be."

Not long after, Bella's parents' relationship deteriorated, and the visits to Forks and First Beach grew sporadic, as rare as those diamonds embedded in the sea. Still, the few times she visited afterward, she kept her word to Sue and tried her best to take care of First Beach – even once she figured out that there were no rare diamonds in the water droplets, that the world didn't operate in a magical realm.

And now, for some reason, the light from those glittering diamonds felt like lasers searing straight into her skull.

'Is that what made you burn so brightly?'

An underwater earthquake abruptly rocked the ocean, sending wave after seismic wave to jostle her. They made her sick, which was unusual because First Beach's waves had never made her seasick. Along with the feeling of dizzying nausea, a dark fog enveloped her. Bella shut her eyes and instead tried to identify the sounds seeping from somewhere above. But these were muffled, incomprehensible, and blended into one indistinguishable hum.

So she let her body float numbly, devoid of sight or sound.

'Is that what made you burn so brightly?'

Bella awoke again. This time, the dark fog lifted sufficiently for awareness of her surroundings, if not understanding, to settle. She wasn't at First Beach – she remembered she hadn't been there in years.

She was in a hospital, though why she had no clue. The hum she'd heard clarified into hushed voices and loud beeping, but the mysterious sickness remained. When she dry heaved, a trickle of fear crawled up her spine because she never heaved. She wasn't one prone to dizzy spells or nausea.

Anxious to stave off another episode, she shut her eyes once more. But before she did, she caught a glimpse of her godfather. He sat at her bedside, looking older than she remembered him, ashen-faced and glassy-eyed, his dark mustache unmoving and unkempt. Her parents stood a few feet away with similar expressions. But it was her Godpop who took her hand and explained what had happened to her…and Jacob, and he wrapped her in his arms when she couldn't stop crying. Or heaving.

'Is that what made you burn so brightly?'

Sobs wracked her as she remembered something else:

Jake asked that question – the last question he ever asked her. And she'd never be able to answer him.

Forks Police Chief, Charles Swan, used his influence in the force to hold off the SFPD, who were anxious to spill into her hospital room for questioning, regardless of Bella's current state. When she was ready to meet with them, her Godpop remained by her side. When she was unable to attend Jake's funeral, Sue comforted her.

In the ensuing police investigation, her godfather ensured that all the motherfucking piece of garbage's constitutional rights were strictly adhered to. The animal's Miranda rights were properly read, and a public defender was swiftly appointed. Every 't' was crossed and 'i' dotted – so there would be no way anyone could later claim that he hadn't received due process.

When Bella's diagnosis came, it was Sue and her godfather who sat with her as the doctors explained what it meant – all the possible, life-altering ramifications, medical science's inability to do much beyond wait and see, and its inability to predict whether there would ever be any improvement. Sue and her godfather then researched and familiarized themselves with the ins and outs of Traumatic Brain Injuries.

Her parents?

Oh, they were around. But they were overwhelmed, emotionally paralyzed, and unable to provide much support beyond lending their signatures to whatever forms needed signing.

Bella was in the hospital for a month and in physical therapy for much longer. There was no college graduation. Not only was it the last thing on her mind, but neither her brain nor her eyes could focus for long, and her speech and coordination were equally compromised.

The trial that followed, as well as her testimony, were both a literal and figurative blur. The ADA, Jasper Whitlock, a young but tough prosecutor, fought for her justice, while Charlie fought for her physical recovery, and Sue fought for her emotional well-being.

Afterward, Sue and her godfather converted their garage into the prettiest little apartment, with all the features someone with her new limitations would need. They brought her home to Forks, where she slowly improved – if not completely healed.

OOOOO

"Jesus," I expelled.

We sat on the end of a two-seater; or rather, I sat on the two-seater. Bella had started out beside me, but as the damnable story wore on, I'd pulled her closer and gripped her tighter. Then I draped her across my lap, her back resting against the two-seater's armrest so I could angle toward her, see her face, and hold her hand. The other hand stroked her hair and cheek and occasionally balled into a white-knuckled fist.

She could've died.

All the while, Bella held my gaze through eyes so dark they were almost surreal, the eyes of a goddess embedded with precious jewels, like the ones she used to see in the ocean. How could any motherfucker ever try to dim those eyes?

The dim lamp behind her cast her silhouette in a soft glow, along with the backyard lights streaming in through the windows, giving her an almost ethereal appearance. It was beautiful; it was terrifying.

When I tightened my grip, Bella tilted her head sideways, questioning, studying my reaction. Her hair cascaded in thick waves over a shoulder I'd brushed my lips against, back and forth, a short while earlier. So, yeah, she was real. She was here. That animal didn't end her, didn't extinguish the light beaming from her eyes. She and I did meet in a pub one night-

The scene a couple of weeks earlier in Emily's Pub, when I'd been jet-lagged, exhausted, and irritable, replayed differently in my head. In this alternate version, I rushed to the pub's door and bumped into…no one.

Nothing.

There had been no obstacle in my way as I made my way back to Tristan, no woman whose dark, intense eyes instantly pulled me into her orbit.

A sickeningly potent blend of fear and fury rolled up my spine, and I glared at the living room's pristine ceiling while attempting to get a grip on my extreme emotions. Unfortunately, the ceiling's smoothness provided a background for a projector of even more terrifying images starring Bella.

I saw Bella unconscious and broken in that apartment. I saw her wake up, bewildered and hurting, in that hospital. I felt her pain at learning all she'd lost, at hearing her diagnosis. I saw her bravely testify not only before a jury but while a monster looked on.

Suddenly, an image- no, not an image, instead a memory flashed through my mind. It was Kate's wake, and as I approached the open casket just as I did on the day of the event, the features arranged into peaceful repose morphed from those of Kate to those of-

"Fuck."

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to drive away the bile-inducing image. Still, a concurrent awareness in the background now moved to the forefront, playing out in a torturous mix of cognizance and sensation. The timeline…the timeline indicated that I'd been thousands of miles away when it all went down, married, with my wife on her death bed…and with me completely unaware of Bella's existence, unaware that she'd almost taken her last breath.

I could've lost her without ever even knowing her. Without Tristan ever knowing her warmth, unfathomable kindness, and care for him. And yes; yes, I knew it was an irrational and selfish thought on so many fucked-up levels, yet there it was:

Tristan and I could've lost Bella and gone through life without ever knowing she'd once existed.

When I met her eyes again, I was still awash in a turbulent sense of bewilderment.

"What was the sentence?"

"The sentence?" Bella's brow furrowed as if, after everything she'd relayed to me over the past half-hour, she hadn't expected that question. "Oh. The jury found…Paul, they found him guilty of second-degree murder for Jake and sentenced him to twenty years. For me, they found him guilty of Aggravated Mayhem and sentenced him to eight years, both sentences to be served concurrently. He'll be eligible for parole in twenty years."

I'd been mistaken if I thought I couldn't be more shocked and outraged on Bella's behalf,

"That's it?" I spat.

"Edward, his defense argued that he walked in on something between Jake and me, and the drugs found in his system caused temporary insanity. It was a crime of passion." She snorted and shook her head.

"Passion," I echoed, nostrils flaring. "And a concurrent sentence? And fucking parole? Does he have a suite for a cell as well? What kind of useless prosecutor did you have? Didn't he argue for a heftier penalty?"

"Edward-"

"That's fucking ridiculous, Bella. I'm not a prosecutor, but aggravated convictions carry heftier penalties. Every attorney knows that."

"Edward-"

"Whitlock should've argued that-"

"Edward," she hissed.

The second she squeezed her eyes shut, a wave of guilt washed over me, drowning me in remorse even though, in all my arrogance, I had no clue what I'd done. Yet her expression was enough to shut me up until it hit me:

Not only had I dredged up a terrible memory, but Bella entrusted me with the whole story, not a mere regurgitation of the facts. She gave me the intricacies, the ones that touched and shaped her, the ones that recalled childhood memories and intertwined with past and present to form the woman seated on my lap.

And I'd taken all that and gone into attorney mode.

"Oh, Jesus. Fuck. Bella, I'm sorry."

And even with her eyes closed, she must've sensed me leaning in closer. Her hand went up between us, palm out and keeping me at bay.

Heart pounding, I backed up, raking a hand through my hair, fearing I'd proven to her once and for all what an arrogant bastard I was.

"Bella…Bella, that was so stupidly arrogant… I shouldn't have…not now…not like this."

Because yes, I had questions, plenty of them. I was an attorney. Questions were the nature of the beast. But there was a time and a place, and I should've known this was neither. Her heart and trust in me should've been my priorities.

Yet, I was an attorney. And in the back of my mind, I was already planning a well-worded email that, with some luck, would grant me a few minutes of Counselor Whitlock's time during the work-related jaunt I'd already had scheduled to San Francisco in a few weeks.

But these were all thoughts for later. I'd fucked up, misunderstood, and disregarded the true gift I'd been granted by Bella here.

"Bella…please-"

In a flash, she opened her eyes and cradled my face between her warm hands. In the next moment, her warm lips brushed mine. And just like that, I was left speechless once more because this woman…this woman was unlike anyone. Wrapping my hands around hers, I weaved our fingers together, sought her tongue, and deepened our connection, selfishly seeking reassurance when I should've been giving it.

"You're okay," I breathed.

"I'm okay, Edward. I am."

"You're okay," I repeated while she kissed away my anger and fears. When she pulled away, I held on to her hands, refusing to relinquish their warmth as I brushed my lips against the corners of her soft mouth, swept them against both beautiful eyelids, then rested my forehead on hers.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, eyes downcast.

"Don't be."

"I just…" I shook my head, still maintaining our connection, "you went through hell, and I made it worse just now."

She pulled back and held my gaze. "You didn't make it worse, and it wasn't all hell, Edward."

"Bella…you're so damn brave, you are," I stressed, "but how was it not all hell?"

She drew in a deep breath before replying. "Well, for one, I reconnected with my godfather, with Sue, and with Leah. For another, I gained an entire town of friends." She added the last part with a smile. Then her eyes panned away from me, and she looked as if she were suddenly seeing something else…someone else.

"And sometimes, on my good days, I'll go to First Beach and wade into the water and shut my eyes. And for a few moments, I'll float there and find myself back to those seconds when I first woke up at the hospital, before I knew what happened, before I knew I'd never see Jake again. That's not hell."

When she met my eyes again, I swallowed hard against what I saw spelled in hers.

"You loved him."

It was neither a question nor an accusation. Jacob Black lost his life defending her, and though I'd never get to meet or thank him, I'd be in debt to him for the rest of my damn life. That didn't mean it didn't hurt that he'd taken Bella's heart with him.

Despite all other emotions that should've taken precedence, the pain of that truth struck me like a two-ton brick. Because, as it turned out, I'd fallen in love with Bella, and this was when my masochistic heart decided to drop the pretense of a summer fling. Fuck's sake, I was an almost thirty-year-old man with a three-year-old son – a son Bella treated with the type of care some parents didn't give their own offspring.

No, this had never been a summer fling to me.

"He asked me a question right before," she continued. All the while, I nodded for her to continue despite the bombardment of painful revelations because if Bella needed to speak of him, of her love for Jacob, I'd listen even if hearing of her love for another man dragged me down to the very end of that bell curve.

"He asked why I burned so brightly, and I never got to answer him." She sighed. "For a long time, I felt so guilty for that. Such a seemingly simple question," she mused, "yet it haunted me." She tilted her head to the side in that way of hers that I adored. "Does that make sense?"

I nodded. "Kate asked me something too, right before."

Bella's brow furrowed.

Drawing in a deep breath, I expelled it into the space between us. "She asked me not to be a martyr, not to build a shrine to our relationship, and not to turn us into a perfection we weren't."

We were quiet for a while, pondering the words in our own way, I supposed.

"What made it worse was that I couldn't make heads or tails of it, so I never promised, and I didn't even begin to understand what she meant until much later, and through a source that…"

"…a source who left me even more bewildered: Kate's twin sister, Tanya, who shared the twins' secrets with me – right before she straddled my lap and kissed me. And I didn't immediately stop her because, for a moment, I was both so angered by proof that Kate and I had been far from perfect…and so lonely that despite that anger, I contemplated settling for a carbon copy of that imperfection."

Those words were on the tip of my tongue, words that would confess how far down that bell curve I'd already traveled. All the while, Bella waited patiently for me to finish my thought.

"The point is," I said, making a split-second decision to skip ahead, "Kate and I were husband and wife, lovers, and friends, but neither one of us was perfect nor were we necessarily perfect together."

"I don't think any couple is necessarily perfect together," Bella said after a pause.

"No," I smiled, "you're right. But I have no idea how that would've played out had she never gotten sick. I think…that's what haunted me for a while."

"It's maddening, isn't it?" she smiled. "The not knowing."

"It…was," I hedged, "but lately, it doesn't haunt me so much anymore. And that's because I think I understand her in a way now that I didn't then." I cupped Bella's cheek, watched her eyes widen. "There was more out there for me…for Tristan, and something else haunts me now…"

A silent tear skimmed her face, seeping into my fingers.

"The thought that I may have never found it…that while I was thousands of miles away, and yes, grieving, you were being hurt…that you could've-"

"Edward, I'm okay." Her voice broke. "I'll be okay."

"I know you are, and I know you will be. You've got that inner strength that I…Bella, I used to think the only thing that kept me going was my son, Tristan, but now-"

"I wasn't in love with him, Edward," she asserted fiercely. "I loved him, yes, and I used to wonder if I could've one day fallen in love with him, but that day, when he asked that question, I wasn't there. And that's what haunted me. Because he asked me what made me burn so brightly, and the truth is, had I gotten around to answering, I would've told him that I didn't burn brightly, that he just saw me that way. Yet when you asked me something similar…" she choked, and I slid my hands around her neck, pulling her closer, "Edward, when you asked me what made me perfect, I wanted to say I'm not perfect-"

"I didn't mean it that way," I shook my head wildly. "No one's perfect. What I meant-"

"But I wanted to answer you, and what I wanted to say was that I'm not perfect, I'm far from it, but I wish I could be perfect for you. For you and Tristan."

"Bella-"

"And I'm not a light, but for you and Tristan-"

"You are our light," I finished for her. "You are our sunshine."

Bella's breath hitched. "Am I wrong to want that? Am I wrong to want more?"

"No." My fingers brushed the back of her neck, weaving in her hair, her warm, anxious breaths on my face. "No. Look at me." Leaning in closer, I brought my eyes to her level. No," I repeated, shaking my head slowly, indubitably. "We loved them. We honored them. But now, it's you and me here."

I closed all space between us then, and Bella wrapped her arms around my shoulders while our mouths met in a kiss unlike any other we'd shared. With her face caged between my hands, I parted her lips hungrily, the heat of her jetting into every extremity. A sound between a groan and a whimper escaped her, and I dropped my hands to her waist, pulled her closer to me, chest to chest, so that I had no doubt she felt the wild drumming in mine. I only broke away to move my lips upward, working frenzied, open-mouthed kisses against her heated skin when she lifted her neck to grant me better access.

"This is right, Bella," I whispered against her throat, skimming my mouth across to ear. "And it has nothing to do with perfection." My lips dragged across to her other ear. "We're right."

She nodded, turning her face to the side, seeking my mouth, and I complied. She straddled my lap, one smooth leg on either side, caging my hips while the material of her dress swished as it rode up her thighs. My palms burned when I curved them around the bare skin now exposed. She tugged at the hem of my shirt, and I helped her pull it up, breaking away only long enough to pull it off. She splayed her hands on my stomach, and I hissed, muscles contracting, groin now conspicuously growing and throbbing. Yet, despite the undeniable haze of lust consuming me, I slowly lifted the hem of her dress higher, allowing her time to stop me because as much as I wanted her, I wouldn't rush her.

Instead of stopping me, once the dress's skirt was out of our way, Bella pressed herself against my erection and rocked against it, her hands fisting my hair. A long and deep groan erupted from me, expelled into her mouth as I cupped her bare backside, vaguely grateful for the thong she wore. And while she moved against me, I grinned against her lips.

"What are you grinning about?" she asked on a breath.

I gazed at her, my face angled upward. "I love…I love the way you pull my hair. I love having you hovering above me…in control," I murmured, raking a hand through her long hair. "You're a goddess – a fiery goddess with the universe's secrets locked in her dark gaze."

Her mouth twitched, and a shaky smile appeared.

"That's…one of the most delicious things anyone's ever said to me."

"Give me a few, and I'll come up with more," I breathed.

She gripped my hair tighter and guided my mouth back to hers, and for an eternal moment, we kissed…and rocked…and kissed…and-

And when my cell phone vibrated over the side table, Bella pulled away instantly, eyes wide as icy dread washed over us and seeped into my bones.

I squeezed my eyes shut. "Please, God, Jesus, and all the deities up and down tell me that's not Rose."

I felt Bella lean over. "It's Rose. She's Facetiming."

"Holy fuck," I spat. "Worst timing. Ever."

Our eyes met, and Bella and I burst into laughter on the phone's next vibration.

She laughed harder when I threw back my head and howled at the ceiling, assuming I was being funny. Little did she know that when she climbed off of my throbbing hard-on, the howls threatened to turn into tears.

All the while, the damn phone kept right on vibrating.

"Goddamn technology."

"Edward, answer it."

"I will," I said, scrubbing a hand down my face hard while trying to convince my dick to calm down. "I just need a sec."

When I looked at Bella, her amusement had been replaced by a pout that had nothing to do with her deliciously swollen lips and everything to do with anxiousness.

"It's late, Edward," she said, handing me my shirt while she righted her dress. "It's not Sweet Pea's fault we were in the middle of stuff."

"I know. I know," I sighed, yanking the wrinkled shirt over my head, buttons skewing and popping open. What I wanted to do was hurl the damn shirt and the phone against a wall.

Then, reminding myself that Tristan – along with the woman now seated eagerly at my side – was indeed one of the two most important beings in my world, I answered the call. At the same time, Bella took my hand and weaved her fingers through mine. And yeah, it did the trick. In the moment before the phone's screen came alive, I managed to look forward to seeing and hearing my son's loud, exuberant self, plus one or two of his equally loud toddler friends in the background.

The hard-on remained, though, which was fine. It wouldn't be visible through the phone.

I was surprised when a dark, quiet room appeared instead of a handful of feisty toddlers. When my eyes focused, a hazy image of Rose, smiling and backlit by lamplight, filled the screen. She was on a couch whose pull-out mattress had been opened and sat cross-legged at its edge. Without uttering a word, she lifted a finger and held it vertically against her lips.

"Shh."

The phone screen then panned away and landed on another mattress, one where Tristan laid curled in on himself, hugging Blanket tightly, his eyes shut and mouth slightly agape. He was flanked by Esme and Quil, both in similar slumber states and embracing their comfort creatures.

At that sight, despite how undeniably…horny I'd been mere seconds earlier, a wholly different sort of warmth rushed through me. Beside me but out of camera range, Bella drew in successive breaths. The phone screen panned back to Rose.

"Hey, Ed," she whispered.

"Hey, Rose," I whispered in return.

"Ed, I know we discussed your picking Tristan up tonight rather than sleeping over, but they had a great evening. Then they watched a movie and were knocked out. Does he sleep through the night?"

"Uhm, did he go to the bathroom before falling asleep?"

Rose nodded. "Mhm. Peed a whole lot too," she snickered quietly.

"Then…yeah. He generally won't wake up again 'til morning."

"And he won't be alone for a moment. Esme and Quil are sleeping with him, and Emmett and I are set up here too."

She panned the camera to the side again, where now I noted the sleeping figure behind her, curled under blankets and snoring. The camera panned back to Rose's broadly grinning face.

"As I said, I know you wanted to pick up Tristan tonight, and if you'd still rather do so, that's cool, but he's fine, and I'm fine with having him stay over. And if he wakes up and looks anxious, I promise I'll call you right away."

It'd been a long evening. Most of it had been…amazing. Wonderful. Thrilling. But…we'd hit a bump, and though we'd gotten past it, I still needed reassurance that she was indeed here. And Jesus, I'd be lying if I said I didn't ache to make love to her.

My heart raced. I wanted Tristan to sleep over, and I knew why I wanted him to sleep over. But I needed to decide rationally, not based on an overwhelming desire for the beautiful woman beside me, a woman whose scent and heat consumed me even now, but based on the facts. I needed to make this decision based on whether the burden of proof showed a preponderance of the evidence that Tristan would be okay.

I turned to Bella. "Bella, what do you think?"

Bella blinked, her head jerking back slightly, startled.

"You want to know what I think?" she murmured.

I nodded.

She swallowed, but then, a soft smile spread across her face.

"I think…I think that if he wakes up and he's upset, Rose will be able to calm him. And you're only five minutes away. I think he'll be fine."

I held her gaze for a moment. "I think so too."

"Good," Rose said. "Then, unless something comes up, we'll see you in the morning. 'Night, Edward."

"Good night, Rose. And thank you."

"No problem." A mischievous grin spread across her face. "'Night, Bella."

Bella chuckled and, with her eyes on me, replied off-screen. "Good night, Rose."

I ended the call and returned the phone to the side table, still locked in Bella's gaze. We sat side by side for a long moment, silently watching one another.

"Edward, I don't want you to think I said that so that we could…I mean, I'll always put his needs first."

"Bella, I'm not thinking any of that," I said, reaching to push a stray lock of hair behind her ear. My fingers lingered, tracing circles to her nape, enjoying how her breaths sped up. "Tristan is safe and happy, and that's enough. Right now, all my thoughts revolve around you…and how I've never wanted anyone…the way I want you now."

Her chest rose and fell, dark eyes sparkling like stars in the night sky.

"Me too."

Despite our mutual confession, neither of us moved for a few minutes.

"Bella…so, so beautiful, Bella." Getting to my feet, I reached out a hand and helped her up, our eyes locked on one another.

We made our way through the relative darkness in fits and starts, both of us content to take our time now that we knew where we were headed. With her hand in mine, we crossed the room. When she tugged on my hand, and I looked back, she lifted herself on her toes and feathered her lips against mine.

"I haven't done this in a long, long time," she whispered.

I cradled her waist between my hands. "Neither have I."

She offered me a teasing smile. "I was worried you'd have some City Boy moves I'd be unfamiliar with."

"City Boy moves, "I chuckled against her mouth. "Bella, I'm hoping to make it upstairs without saying or doing something embarrassing. I mean, it's been a while."

She sucked my bottom lip between hers…then my top…

"Shh. We're way past embarrassment."

She led the way up the stairs, and I followed, turning her around halfway up the staircase, our gazes at the same level as she stood two steps above. My mouth brushed her shoulder…her collarbone…the hand at her hip skimming up to a soft mound.

"Edward…"

At some point, we reached the landing. I'd ended up in the lead now, and halfway to the bedroom, I pushed her back against the wall, cradling her spine. The backyard lights streamed through the windows, highlighting every shade in her sparkling eyes.

"Those eyes…" I breathed, "they hypnotized me from the start, from the first moment. I dreamed about them that first night."

"I dreamed about your eyes too," she confessed in return, tracing under one eye with a fingertip. "They're like emeralds, like ocean jewels." She tilted her head, looking thoughtful for a moment. "I'll take care of them," she said, just before claiming my mouth. And for an endless moment, our mouths and tongues moved and danced together.

So, she was right; by the time we finally reached my bedroom, there was no embarrassment, no awkwardness.

There was only her warm mouth on mine…her eyes as I led her to the middle of the bed…my heart as she lifted off her dress…her hands on my bare chest… my hands molding her breasts… her fingers working my zipper…my fingers stroking her hair…her susurrations in my ear…my whispers against her neck…her sighs in my mouth…my tongue against her taut peaks…her tongue across my jaw…my lips skimmed against a thigh…her lips skimmed against my ribs. And…

And her eyes again, always those eyes that would forever be my guiding lights. They reassured me, held mine as I hovered above her, then sank into pure, all-consuming heat. They gazed at me as her back arched and legs cradled my hips. And when she writhed, took those eyes away, I guided them back.

"Don't look away…don't…lemme…lemme see those eyes…please, Bella…"

"Edward…Edward…"

Eyes that commanded me, owned me, spurred me on, and mesmerized me. Even as she threw back her head and cried out, squeezing me from the inside so tightly…so tightly that I drove in faster, deeper, even as I cursed and felt myself lose control, I fought to hold on to those eyes, unwilling to relinquish their depths even as I lost myself in her, and my heart exploded…

…and then pieced itself together, with Bella's name indelibly etched on every piece.

A/N: Thoughts?

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