A Fine Day to Be a Dog
Friday, June 10, 2005
To be completely objective, it was all Esme's fault. Before today, Edward couldn't recall one moment where he'd felt any degree of ire towards her. He'd wanted to blame Emmett, but he wasn't the direct cause. This morning, around five, Emmett had burst into the living room, from the side door, knocking it from its hinges. Covered in dirt, twigs in his hair, he had a wild look in his eye and an obnoxious grin.
"What war did you fight in?" Jasper teased.
"You should see the other guy," Emmett answered.
"What have you done to my door!" Esme lamented.
"Everybody settle down," Emmett announced, clapping his hands together. "Me and Rose were out hunting and we may have had an, ah, a happy accident."
A roar sounded behind him. Esme gasped.
"Meet," he said, "Vampbear!"
The five Cullens ran outside to where Rosalie was sitting on top of a bear. Her golden hair flowed freely behind her, like a warrior goddess.
"Emmett," Carlisle sighed. "Please tell me you didn't torture this poor animal by trying to change it."
"Of course I didn't!" His memory proved his innocence.
"He definitely considered it," Alice mentioned. "In one of the eight outcomes, he builds an army. Or tries to."
"So why is this a 'vampbear'?" Edward questioned.
Rosalie cut in. "Emmett brought it over to me, since I didn't want to ruin my clothes before our outing. I didn't want to put up much of a fight, but evidently I didn't have to. It does almost everything we say. Down, boy."
The massive beast crouched closer to the grass to let her off its back. It moved to trail after her, but she held up a hand, stopping it. Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out the berries the bear had been tracking.
"Fascinating," Carlisle mused. "It recognizes it has no chance against such a predator so it obeys instead of attacking. Animals have never done that with us, not ever for food. I wonder how you managed to train it to understand simple commands, though."
Edward shook his head, torn between a grimace and a smile. At some point all of their antics would drive him to leave home for at least a solid decade.
Rosalie and Emmett were content to play with their food, which led to Esme asking Edward to go run her errands. That was all well and good, until he read the list.
"Ring shopping?"
"Keep your voice down," she whispered as they walked to the front door. There, she thought, 'Emmett is proposing to Rosalie.'
"Again?!"
'Yes, again. Their seventieth anniversary is coming up this year.'
Edward scowled like a petulant child.
'These things are important to people, Edward,' Esme chided gently.
"Alright, alright. But why am I picking it out? Why do they even want a new one?"
Esme laughed. 'Rose is in love with the newer fashions. And you're only picking it up. Emmett was paranoid she'd figure it out so I offered to take care of it.'
Edward stomped away, partially for dramatic effect, and drove off.
The jewelry store. Located in the heart of town. Edward raised an eyebrow. There was no way that either Emmett or Rosalie would deign any ring sold in Forks, Washington as worthy of her, but stranger things have happened.
The man behind the counter frowned a bit when Edward asked for the order. 'Isn't he a bit young to get married? These small town kids.'
Edward exaggerated his examination of the ring. "Wow, my future sister-in-law's going to love this!"
"Oh, well good luck to the happy couple!" 'Never assume, the clerk berated himself, 'because when you assume, you make an ass out of 'u' and 'me'.'
The ring had exceeded his expectations. Emmett had chosen a clear pillow-cut diamond shining on a sturdy rose-gold double band. It was more intricate then her initial ring, seeing as that one had been selected by Carlisle and Esme, a gift for Emmett to present to Rose. Edward closed the box and set out for the gloomy street. He checked his phone. He'd been doing that lately. But there was no missed call, no text.
Leah...
They'd gone home in a thick silence, escorted by triple the guards, given the lateness of the hour. And after that…
Nothing. Calls went unanswered. Visits came to a halt. There was no possibility of him going to her, with the council and the wolf pack. And he didn't think she was in trouble. Just avoiding him.
He didn't think it could ever hurt this much - to be ignored. To be left.
What was wrong with him? To clarify, what wasn't wrong with him?
It had been a mistake to push her like that - to tease and compliment her so brashly. No wonder she had fled from him, from her own fledgling feelings. The very idea of him as a romantic partner had sickened and terrified her.
Indeed, he still wanted a wife, a mate. But did he want Leah to fill that role? He always pictured having someone to dote on and protect would be the best part. Leah didn't particularly care for either of those things. She flattered herself and defended herself as needed.
But she was more sensitive than she cared to admit. Thoughtfully, she listened to him and understood. She didn't just accept him for his wealth or looks, she wanted to know him. She did know him. Leah would make a good partner for anyone. But would he be a good man for her?
Against his will, his mind went to the lowest places. He thought his habits over, his dress, his face, his body. Maybe she wanted someone more...masculine. He thought of Sam Uley's powerful physique. In that department, he didn't compare to even his brothers. Not that there was anything he could do to change that.
What was he thinking? Was he actually going to (attempt to) seduce his best friend into a relationship of which she'd get nothing but an eternally young husband and endless wealth?
Perhaps he could dismiss his folly if not for one thing. Leah disconfirmed the theory that he wasn't ever going to be truly attracted to anyone. He thought he'd sooner grow accustomed to the loneliness (which wasn't so bad some days) than he'd fall in love. And he can't even call it that, not with certainty. He hadn't found a mate - no, he had found an amazing force of a woman and become attracted to her hope, her fire, her brilliance. So all in all, he remained at square one.
Beyond his control, Edward's mind left the ring, left the sidewalk he stood on, left Emmett's new 'pet', his always-changing college list, the memory of a summer in Forks where they watched a parade from a window, and the history essay he was still composing. It even left Leah. Like a song fading out on the radio, he went blank, feeling nothing, not wind, not heat, not even the clothes on his body. His vision darkened to black and the sound left the world. He only recognized fear and he would've cried out if he could feel his body.
And as quickly as it all came, it vanished. Edward blinked his eyes several times, looking around at the nearly empty street. A few cars passed him. Someone stood smoking outside the dry cleaners. Sounds of life buzzed from the diner on the corner.
Judging it safe to go, Edward climbed into his car. He stalled. How did he leave reality like that? He couldn't dream and that was no daydream. His mind didn't have the same failings as a human one. Was his fixation on Leah driving him insane? There was a path he didn't want to go down. It had been a long time since he truly feared something.
Alice's voice flitted through his ears. 'Edward…' she called.
His telepathy was always on higher alert than his true hearing. He watched an image play through her head. If he stayed where he was, in ten seconds, his car would be hit.
He swore and started the engine, backing quickly out of his spot by the curb.
The crunch of metal and plastic grated on his ears.
"Way to make it worse," he grumbled to himself, climbing out of the front seat. It took some control not to slam the door when he saw the dent in the car's trunk. Even more, when he turned his eyes to the offender. Patrick.
Edward immediately climbed out the car. He started to apologize, but curiously, his friend was cheerful despite the collision. Patrick often reminded him of Emmett on a sedative. Maybe that's why he could tolerate the guy.
"Man, am I glad to see you!" Patrick said, clapping him on the back.
Edward winced at the noise. "It's good to see you, Pat. Are you here for the summer festival?" It was the only reason he could imagine a person going to Forks. Not that it would tempt anyone with culture.
Patrick laughed, tilting his head back. "Nah. My mom lives here. One of the benefits of going to school here is I can check on her."
"Ah." Edward observed that Patrick's Honda had got the worst of it.
Patrick sobered up. He crouched in between the cars, surveying the damage. "Shit, well you have my information, right?"
Edward nodded. "Yeah, want a ride to your mother's house?"
Patrick hesitated. 'I don't want to take advantage of him. But I can't let Jenna see me like this.'
"Or to a friend's," Edward amended.
"Thanks, dude." He let Edward pull him up and the two men drove off. Edward turned the radio to a neutral top-forty station he thought Pat would like and he could tolerate for the next ten minutes or so.
Patrick opened a small bag of potato chips and began crunching loudly. "Want some?"
Instinctively, Edward leaned away from the stench, but this variety seemed to be more neutral than others. "No thanks."
"So how's your friend?"
"Leah's well. I suspect she's working hard on her studies for college next year." Not the complete truth, but mundane.
"Tell her DAU sucks. That's why I ended up transferring to U of Washington."
"She's going to the community college in Forks."
"My friend Olive goes there for art. She likes it so far." He wiped his greasy fingers on a napkin. "Where are you going?"
Edward half-smiled. "One more year and then I'd like to travel abroad. Maybe England."
Patrick whistled. "Fancy. Any way you can get the band plane tickets?"
"Of course. We'll go on a year-long tour."
"Ha! A year." Patrick muttered to himself as he looked out the window.
'We've put you on a waiting list.'
'It could be months.'
'Is there nothing you can do?'
'The dialysis…'
Edward maintained a neutral expression as the horrific thoughts, Patrick's memories, settled around him. He tore himself away from his friend's mind. "So is this your mom's house?"
"Nah. My sister and her husband."
Edward tensed at the prospect of another descendant of his until he recalled that this was the half-sibling Patrick had mentioned. He was getting old.
"Not like Mom wants to see me anyway," Patrick said softly.
Edward bristled. What was wrong with the woman? How could she be cold towards her own son? "Did you get into an argument?"
"I meant, she loves me and all. But she gives me this tortured, depressed look every time she looks at me."
"Why?"
"Because I'm going to die." Patrick stretched and yawned.
Edward's hands tightened on the steering wheel. That wasn't how he expected to hear it. It was one thing to have the unfiltered view. He was used to seeing things he wasn't supposed to see. But when it came to the discussion, he fumbled like a rookie football player. "Are you serious?" he accidentally hissed, his tone too frustrated.
"I thought everyone knew. I look more and more like shit everyday," he laughed, then frowned. "Sorry, man. I really thought I told you. Most people assume with one look at me."
Edward stole glances out of the corner of his eye. And in the daytime, he did notice the sallowness in Patrick's skin and the circles under his eyes. But there was nothing off about his breathing or heart rate. And he couldn't even smell anything atypical of his blood. Finally he asked, "What do you have?"
"Body-turning-against-itself-osis."
Edward smiled in spite of himself. "That's what the doctor said?"
"His words were much longer but just as clunky." Patrick shrugged. "I'm not responding well to the dialysis. It's only been six years, but I needed a kidney for a while now."
Edward sighed. "Won't anyone close to you donate theirs?"
"Mom's not a match and neither is George. Sarah just had her gallbladder removed. I'm not going to force her back into the operation room. Besides, her and George need to work."
"What're you going to do about it?"
"Cry." Then he cackled like a crazy person. "Then I'm going to write a great song about it and play it every single day!"
To Edward's shock, Patrick turned on the hard-rock station and began screaming his lungs out like it really was his last day to live.
In reality, it was his own fault. He had never been hard-hearted, but some people brought out the soft side in you when you least expected it. Then you turn around and tow your descendant's sedan to your house so you could fix everything free of charge.
So far, Patrick had only been in the garage and the kitchen, but it didn't stop the Cullens from hovering like horror villains. Esme had even patted the boy's cheek, practically in tears over seeing a person so similar to her beloved son. Carlisle had been eyeing the boy with more than passing interest and Edward had found a discreet way to beg them to be normal for the next several hours.
Patrick leaned over the hood of his car as Edward worked. "Man, you really know your stuff. My dad taught me some things, but I'm crap with mechanical things."
"Same with mine," Edward agreed. Then he froze. "My birth dad, I mean."
At least Patrick understood unconventional families, so he didn't press. "You'll get an 'A' on your auto shop final, that's for sure. I'm glad you talked me into this."
Edward wiped the grease off of his hands. "Okay, that should do it."
Patrick whooped. "You rock, man. Are you coming back to Clay's? We've mastered "Singer". You have to hear it with full instrumentals."
"I will," Edward promised. He didn't know when, but he would. He quickly turned back to his tools, hoping Patrick wouldn't pull him into a hug. Humans were unpredictable enough when they weren't dying and emotional.
He waved to Patrick as he drove out of the garage. He did seem genuinely happy, even if he hadn't been able to talk the guy out of eventually paying him back. He'd have to respect that. Fair was fair. Pat didn't know he had money to burn for all of eternity.
"Hope you get an 'A'?" Alice commented, hopping down from a tree.
He raised a hand in acknowledgement.
She caught his next question. "Jazz and Emmett started another wrestling match. It got boring."
He shrugged.
"Patrick's a good guy," she said.
"For a human," Edward agreed, almost reflexively, as he reorganized the garage before Rose came chomping at the bit. Then he added, softer, "He doesn't deserve to die."
"Few people do." She crossed her arms. 'Perhaps there is something we can do…'
He startled at the direction of her thoughts. "No way. That's too far."
"We've stolen far more expensive things," Alice pointed out.
"Not life-saving, vital organs."
'Carlisle thought of it.'
Edward stopped in his tracks. Carlisle thought of this? That the solution to…? Well, of course, he did. Carlisle had stolen bodies from the morgue. This was only a step above. Or below.
"It doesn't matter. It won't work, anyway."
"But -"
"It's my choice."
"We don't have to talk about it today." She patted his shoulder when he didn't respond.
If she so badly desired, she could peer into the future and see that he wasn't going to change his mind. He felt a pang of guilt. Really? Rules had never held him back before, so why should they now? Letting a young man die wouldn't prove his goodness.
Edward ran his hands through his hair. He didn't like this lack of control. This confusion of wanting something and no solution of getting it. He was always running in circles.
Edward gasped as his sense faded, engulfing him in darkness. He dropped the wrench he'd been holding.
"Edward!" Alice's sharp tone pulled him from the ocean he'd been drowning in.
He didn't answer, only blinking rapidly and palming the garage floor. When had he sat down? He must've fallen.
Alice crouched in front of him, putting her hands on his shoulders. "What's wrong with you?"
"I -" He licked his lips, then slowly put a hand to his face, half-wondering if everything was still there. "I don't know."
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
They'd gone home in a thick silence, escorted by triple the guards, given the lateness of the hour. And after that...
She didn't go to the woods, not even her lake. She didn't go to their house - his house - not even to see the others. Definitely not the track at his high school. In the end, she went nowhere at all.
Today, Emmett called. She didn't have his number but the whoop when she answered was recognizable.
"Leah! You have to get down here! It's an emergency!" he shouted.
"What?!"
"It's Edward," he whispered in a rush. "I'm in the middle of nowhere so he can't attack me, but you should know he's ill."
"Ill?"
"Heartsick!"
Leah rolled her eyes, "Emmett you scared me. I'm doing homework, I'll visit tomorrow."
And callous as it was, she ended the call.
Emmett knew nothing. There was no possibility Edward was nursing a broken heart over her. Yes, she was hurting him, but it was impossible not to if she was going to protect herself. Because if he liked her, if he didn't, both situations would be terrifying.
For the last few days she'd been cringing and groaning at their closeness, their touching, their near-flirtation, and worst, their confidences. She had been open with him because she wasn't afraid, and now that she was, she wanted nothing more than to crawl into her shell.
In the evening, her father poked her head in the door. "I'm going to pick up your mother. Then we can all go out for burgers with Billy and Jacob."
Leah perked up a bit, lifting her head from under the comforter. She was surprised. They hadn't had dining out money in a couple months. Even with two working parents, there was always a new expense cropping up - the leak in the roof, the weird noise coming from the family car. At the prospect of restaurant food (that weren't leftovers from her father's), her mouth watered.
Then she remembered. Billy Black still expected an answer from her. He'd asked her to be the protectress of La Push, a title she couldn't wrap her head around. He wanted her to use her gifts for the reservation, the way the pack did. And she had only told him "maybe".
She wasn't heartless. Her home and her family came before any coven or clan. Besides, Billy hadn't asked her to reject her mission. What worried her was the tension between him and the fairy queen. What would she do when she found out about Billy's request? Should Leah even tell her?
This was silly. If something was wrong with the Cullens, the fairy clan would help them. So they'd do the same for the reservation, right? Maybe a new treaty could be formed. Hopefully.
Great, just great. Her goal was to not think for a little while.
Leah burrowed herself deeper into the blanket cocoon. "I'm busy, go without me."
If Harry suspected anything, he didn't say so. She heard Seth begging to be allowed a second burger if she wasn't coming. Greedy.
Once the house was silent, she worried that maybe it wasn't the best idea to be alone right now. If she weren't careful, Billy Black or Sam and his lackeys would corner her again. The reservation isolated her from the one person she wanted to avoid, but it also trapped her in with the other people she needed to avoid.
There were ways around that.
Should she -? No. She couldn't.
But she had to try sometime. Was she not the Guardian?
Leah slunk off her bed, combing a few tangles from her hair. She skipped down the stairs and out the kitchen's back door. Then she sprinted for the nearest tree. For a minute she contemplated. Where to? Far-off locations would cost dangerous levels of energy, so there'd be no venture to Paris, or even to Port Angeles, for her. It was impossible to get to the realm without the exact tree portals, unless you were a royal. Maybe behind the coffee shop she and Becca used to visit. That was only ten miles away. She pressed her hand against the bark and disappeared to the other side.
Fresh gulps of air hit her as her vision cleared. Treading quietly through the thicket, she realized she was nowhere near the cafe, only a few streets from her house, by that old party warehouse. She punched her leg like an idiot, before darting to another tree. That least portal must have been defective. Maybe it was too old or too young. She chose a healthier, greener one this time.
The warm blinding light engulfed her once more and led her to another tree. She blinked. Now she was even deeper in the forest than before. She stumbled a bit, wishing she had thought to bring her cell phone. At least it was still early, a hot summer sun still high in the sky.
She couldn't be too far from the cafe, or else surely she'd be exhausted or sick from the magic she'd used up. Walking would be fine. She set out towards a clearing.
A flash of fur stopped her.
To her right, she could make out a large powerful creature, not quite the shape of a bear, but close in size. Her eyes squinted. No. That couldn't be. A wolf?
She pressed her arms to her sides, willing her body to stay silent and still.
It turned its head toward her. It was black as midnight, quietly powerful.
She felt a prickle of sweat at her forehead, her armpits.
The wolf took a slow cautious step towards her.
Did it see her as prey or predator? Surely it'd be running, either towards her or away from her.
Leah's body shuddered as if a chill passed over it. Her muscles vibrated and her skin heated as if she were possessed or ill. With her luck, probably both.
The foreign sensation was pushed down like a wave of nausea. She whipped back to the cautious creature, sent off a blast of light from her palm to hit a nearby tree. A warning that'd buy her time.
Leaning against the tree she'd come from, she thought of home and her family, of her bedroom and her mother's cooking.
The tree spat her out in her backyard.
Leah sat with her back against the trunk, watching the birds fly over their roof and a soccer ball roll across the deck with a new gust of wind. She tucked her chin into her chest, hugging her knees. Counting and breathing, her body slowly relaxed.
Could that have been one of the shapeshifters? Surely she would have seen the human in them, recognized Sam or Jared in them. But everything about the creature had been otherworldly. So startling her body had shook at the sight. Why did she flee from something innately good?
Perhaps, today was not the day for a flight of fancy. Perhaps, it was the day for getting things done.
She rehearsed the notes - no, the speech - in her head once more. She was a confident, independent person. This was going to be easy.
After one final travel through tree teleportation, she stared up at the white house, admiring the way the yellow glow hit the glass walls and pristine paneling. It was always gorgeous, but from this angle it reminded her less of a southern plantation and more of a high-end city apartment. It was better.
She didn't quite hear his footsteps so much as she felt them. They were louder and slower, almost human. He paused about ten feet from her. Silent.
Her heart thumped in her chest so strongly she imagined she could hear it over the river they stood by. Her hands twisted, eager for something to hold or do.
"I finished the puzzle you gave me at Christmas. It hangs in my room in your picture frame," he said after the silence went on too long.
She almost berated him for going on without her, until she realized that she wouldn't have come if he asked her. She was such an ass.
Instead, she turned to look at him. He was leaning completely in the shade, at home in the depth of the forest. Most people couldn't see, or wouldn't notice, the depth of the bruises under his darkening eyes. They'd only notice a handsome boy posing carefully, his devil-may-care attitude poised like a shield.
He shrugged. "We can go see it if you'd like."
She shook her head. A thought came to her. "You should hunt first."
"I'd prefer to wait until nightfall."
"You're starving. I can wait." But he didn't move. "Is there something wrong?"
"I'll be fine."
"Is that the truth?" she asked, cautious.
"My sense of smell…" His voice was absurdly flat and detached. "It was uncomfortable, the absence of human blood. But lately, all blood is fading from my notice."
She stepped closer. "What? We have to go to Ella or your dad, or somebody."
He laughed. "Leah, I'm not dying. Seriously, I think the fairies' magic is often faulty, if not the fairies themselves."
She narrowed her eyes. "There's no way you aren't overthinking this and planning your own funeral as we speak."
"A little," he admitted. "Just a little. But I will discuss it with Carlisle."
"Promise?"
He nodded. "Promise."
There'd be no quarrel today over it, even if the new information unsettled her. Above them birds sang to each other, their music discordantly lilting and sweet. She shifted uncomfortably, half in the shade, half out. It was hot, but she wished she had a jacket over her tee shirt, something to hide in. "Then why are you outside?"
"I heard you coming. Your heartbeat is strong."
"And my mind?" she found herself asking.
"Loud and colorful as usual. One could get lost in it." He smiled, an honest, real one. "But I won't."
She stayed there, watching him. It was hard to focus when he looked at her like that. "I'm sorry about last week. I dumped my drama on you and ran. You didn't do anything wrong," she said.
"I'll choose to believe that, this time."
"Can we just...can we go back to normal?" she asked, holding her breath for the response.
His eyes flickered across her face, once again unnatural and unreadable. He seemed farther away than before. "What is normal to you, Leah?"
He was clever. Too clever to let her get away with this. Respect warred with disappointment in her head. She couldn't very well snap at him to check her brain himself without being a huge hypocrite. She couldn't refuse without adding more knots to their tangled friendship.
"At the party, it was like a fairytale," she started, then felt dumb for her choice of words. She soldiered on. "It was like being a prince and princess. It reminded me of my childhood dreams."
Edward, humiliatingly, stared blankly.
"It was late and exciting and maybe I drank too much, but I let my mind wander and I began to hope for…" She gestured vaguely. "I began to imagine what could be between us. I think I felt something for you. Something more than friendship. And I'm sorry for that."
"And you wish me to never mention those thoughts to you?"
"I wish you never heard them. I wish I never had them," she blurted out. She paused, gaping in horror. What was she saying!?
He recoiled slightly, but recovered even quicker. Bitter laughter cut through the silence. "I can keep my distance, Leah."
"Wait -"
"I can see you only on the mission or in the realm."
"Edward, please -"
"I will ignore your thoughts concerning me, provided they are not directed to me. I will not haunt you or chase you if I am so detestable." His black eyes flashed dangerously, stopping her from closing the distance. "One word from you and I will give it to you. Is that what you want?"
Her breath hitched. And she realized that was exactly what she didn't want. "No."
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, melting out of his statue state. "Then please," he begged softly, "tell me. I cannot stay frozen in place until you remember that I am as alive as you are and feel nearly as much. Help me understand."
Leah didn't move.
Edward sighed heavily. "Then hear me. Someone asked me this same question. Naturally, I avoided the question, and told them I'm content with who I am and what I have. But content is not enough anymore. Because of you."
She looked up, startled.
"I was harsh before. I certainly haven't helped your confusion with my temperament. I feared I'd be pressuring you, but it seems I've only driven you away." He took a deep breath, then spoke slowly, deliberately. "I could barely stand these last few days with you angry because all I wanted, all I craved was you. It's you, always you, in my mind and in my heart. And there's no off button for that."
She swallowed, coming closer, ignoring the uncertainty the coolness and shade brought, and stopping right in front of him. Her gaze locked on his and surprisingly, she found the strength to speak. "I'm afraid, for so many reasons. I'm afraid of losing you most of all. But I can't give you any more than I have."
His eyes softened. "You don't owe me anything, Leah."
"I know that," she said, voice breaking. "But that doesn't stop me from wishing that things were different."
He shuffled a little, listless. It was one of the few instances where he wasn't carefully monitoring all of his actions. "I know what I am. It wouldn't be right."
"It's not about what you are or what I am. I wish I were different. I wish I were the type of person that could bounce back quickly."
He nodded, resigned. "You love him." His words weren't bitter or judging, but indifferent. As if he worked to contain whatever he felt at the moment.
"I don't," she protested. "I loved Sam. I loved him so much. But not any longer." She was surprised to find that she believed her words, that they weren't just an empty reassurance. At what point had it even become true? "I can't love someone who left me like that. Who hurt my cousin. Who wanted to control me and lied to me and kept secrets. The boy I loved is gone. And he took my feelings with him."
Gently, Edward cupped her face and she sighed, the last bit of tension leaving her. She hadn't realized how much she missed him.
"But the pain is there," she whispered. "Just because I don't want him doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. I'm still figuring out who I am without him. And I don't want to give you or anyone else the 'under-construction Leah'."
"Leah, you have to come first. For that, I could never resent you."
She shook her head, staring at her shoes. "You deserve better than this."
"Is that what you think?"
She didn't look up.
His hand reached between them, finding hers easily. With care and more caution than usual, he pulled her closer. His cool smooth skin relieved some of the heat from the sun and her blush. Like under a spell, she followed silently when he pulled her out of the shadows.
And when he led her closer to the river's edge, the sunlight fell onto him. Faintly, a shimmer flitted across his skin, his marble white arms and face. He once seemed to be carved from stone, but now a rare gem of some sort. It was odd and mesmerizing and though she couldn't explain how it made her feel, she couldn't look away.
"This is the one reason I was glad you stopped talking to me. That you didn't want me. You didn't know who you were looking at that night."
For the second time that day, a chill racked her body. She had seen him at his worst - when he was seconds from tearing her throat out. So why did this make every fiber of her being long to run?
Edward's eyes held hers, deep and alien. And beautiful.
Right. Because even now, even with this oddity, he was bizarrely, inhumanly appealing - no, alluring, in a way that went deeper than any feelings she had. It was magnetic. Too powerful. Almost terrifying.
He smiled, a little ruefully. "You deserve every good thing. Not me."
She tried not to look quite at his eyes, afraid of losing herself. "Quit trying to scare me. Red."
"No," he murmured. "I don't want you to be afraid of me." He dropped his hands from hers. "But you need to see me."
"I see you," she whispered. Not a vampire, not a human. Not something, but someone. Him.
He froze, searching her eyes, knowing the truth yet looking for the lie anyway.
"I see you," she repeated. She cupped his face, pressing her forehead against his, comforted by the solid strength of his body. His hands were steady on her back, pulling them close together again.
"Don't scare me like that again," he whispered. "You don't have to tell me everything, but don't disappear."
"I won't," she said. "I promise." An oath for an oath.
Despite the chaos their lives were hurtling towards, Leah felt something she hadn't felt in months: peace.