Disclaimer- all characters sadly belongs to the one and only Stephanie Meyer!

Hello! I know! I have actually updated! And it is extra long today – a thank you for all the amazing reviews that you guys have given me. Thank you so much!

This chapter has been through the wringer – I had made this huge plan up, but as I was writing the characters' literally had a mind of their own! So, I have to confess – a lot of this is just fluff. Wonderful, glorious fluff. And I advise you – enjoy it, because the next chapter is going to be a very bumpy ride! So please review – reviews get me writing!

Oh, and if anyone like me, enjoys listening to music when reading – I listened to 'Halo' for this particular chapter .

Love you all, and I hope you enjoy xo

8.

BPOV

"Ugh…"

The dry heaves and sound of moans jerk me from my sleep. I stretch on the bed, searching for the warm body that has inhabited it these last few weeks. Edward and I have been dating for a month now, and I can safely say – it has been the most perfect month of my life. Edward is the sweetest and kindest man I have ever met.

After our night in the photography studio, we have been on a number of equally amazing dates. Expensive restaurants in Times Square... long walks around Central Park... nights in at the apartment... dancing at Eclipse. We revel in our time together, and while he hasn't drifted further into the topic of his family, I have continued to learn other things about him.

He always sleeps on the right side of the bed, and is a very still sleeper. He is convinced that he isn't a coddler, but that was slowly shown to be false as I often find him wrapped around me in the mornings. Head between my breasts, right arm secure around my waist.

His mother Elizabeth was a redhead, and loved playing piano. She was the force that made Edward want to play, and the inspiration behind his very first composition.

Edward has an affinity for cars. Growing up, he used to go to lots of car shows, seeing the best machinery in the world. It is his ambition, to own an Aston Martin.

His guilty pleasure is Hershey's Kisses. He admitted with bright cheeks, that my eyes (which were apparently the exact shade of his favourite chocolate) were one of the first things that drew him to me.

At his time in public school, Edward learnt a range of skills. Fencing. Diving. New languages. Ballroom dancing, (something that he particularly hated). Sign language. According to him – he loved learning. It distracted him from other things going on his life: most significantly, the death of his mother.

He is extremely organised and loves planning yet he is also the messiest person on the planet. That is clear from the state of his office, whenever I visit between my lectures. When I asked why he always kept his office in such disarray he simply replied (albeit, extremely grudgingly), that someone he knew was such a perfectionist, choosing to be so orderly and tidy, that this is his form of rebellion. The explanation was distant and fragmented. However, the expression on his face became closed off, indicating that he did not want to speak any further on the subject.

However, despite these discoveries, Edward and I have not slept together. We have done lots of other stuff but we have never gotten to the actual deed. We agreed on the night at the photography studio, that while we both craved one another, we are not going to rush into it. Our first kiss, although an incredible moment, had been profoundly quick, and our first time will not be the same.

Yet, now after weeks of growing closer and closer, I can feel my will slowly but surely dissolving… My body aches for Edward. It sounds cliché and extremely corny to say, but every time he nears, there is a colony of butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Every time he touches me, goose bumps rise on my skin, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

We have this electricity, and a voice at the back of my head is insistent that this feeling will never go away. Edward makes me feel completely alive, and I am beginning to feel the urge to fully and wholly connect with him – no strings attached. But how, can you be with someone who still struggles to completely open up to you?

Feeling nothing but cold bed sheets, I rub my eyes looking down at the untouched side of the bed. As my sleep-addled brain finally catches up with reality, I realise it is one of those rare nights where Edward won't be staying the night. Being the boss does have its benefits; Edward hardly ever has extremely late shifts. However there is the odd night where he has to lock up, this night being one of them.

"Ughhhh…"

I sit up straighter, squinting at the crack of light, visible beneath the door. Throwing the covers off my pyjama-clad body, I follow the wounded moans. If Edward isn't here, there is only one other person those moans can belong to…

"Ali?"

I open the bathroom door gingerly, to find Alice; who somehow manages to look incredibly glamorous in her Victoria Secret silk pyjamas, despite the fact she is kneeling next to the toilet. Her black hair sticks to her head with sweat and her skin is pale white.

"God Al! What's the matter?"

I walk over to her, placing a hand to her forehead. No temperature. Just sweat.

"I must've ate something bad" she moans, swiping the back of her hand across her mouth, "it'll pass."

"How long have you been sick?" I wonder, concerned.

She looks up at me, a shadow crossing over her face; "A week now, maybe two? It comes and goes."

"You've been sick for a week?" I question. How haven't I noticed?

Alice smiles, although it looks more like a grimace, "Well we have been a little busy lately…"

I sit next to her, stung. My mind goes over the last few weeks, and I realise– we have been busy. When I wasn't in lectures or work, and when she wasn't at College, we were with our boyfriends. Going on dates, Edward constantly staying at our apartment as Alice slept at Jasper's flat. Really, we haven't had a day to ourselves in weeks.

"Fuck," I shake my head in disbelief.

She places a comforting hand on my thigh, "Don't worry B. I get it. I only really thought about it a few days ago. Maybe every once in while, we could veto the guys' company and just… y'know, hang out? Binge watch The Vampire Diaries."

I roll my eyes jokingly, at the name of our favourite television show.

"I'm so sorry."

"Hey, it was me as well! We are two women in love… what do you expect?"

My cheeks warm at the word love, and my stomach does an uncomfortable somersault. Suddenly I feel like crouching beside the toilet with Alice.

"I am not in love Alice, it has only been a month."

Alice shrugs indifferently, her nausea seemingly forgotten, "so? I have only known Jazz for a month. Are you telling me that you don't think we are in love?"

I shake my head furiously. Anyone with eyes can see how in love Alice and Jasper are. He looks at her as if she has hung the moon, and she treats him as though he is her oxygen.

"No, of course not!"

"Then why can't you and Edward be?"

"B-because!" I throw my hands in the air, "Edward and I are a totally different couple! There are just too many secrets between us… Until he can tell me everything, then how can we truly be in love? It's not like you and Jasper are hiding anything from each other!"

Alice squirms under my gaze, probably from the mere suggestion of keeping something from Jasper.

"It's not that Bella. You have always been so logical and sensible. And love… it's fucking scary! I'm not going to lie. You may not see it, but the way you and Edward are around each other, its… magnetic. When you move, he moves. When he moves, you move. If it wasn't so adorable, it would be freaking creepy!"

I stare at her for a moment, speechless. Is it really that obvious?

"Look," Alice continues, "your brain just needs to catch up with what your body clearly knows already. That's cool. Have you slept together yet?"

I shake my head and stare at my feet "I want to. Like every time we get to second base, it takes every shred of my will to pull away from him. But it's like what I said before… he hasn't shared everything with me yet."

"Bells, listen to me. I know Edward hasn't given you the down low about his family yet, but have you ever thought about what he has told you?"

I look at her confused, "what do you mean?"

"Well… who's his best friend?"

"Emmett."

"Where did he grow up?"

"New York."

"Most serious relationship he has ever had?"

"Besides this one? He was with his high school girlfriend Angela for a year."

"Does he shower morning or night?"

"Alice… what are you getting at?"

"Just answer Bella."

I huff, "Morning, without fail."

"Most annoying habit?"

"When he's frustrated, he always runs his hands through his hair, making it even messier than it usually is… but it is also kind of sexy, so…"

"What's his favourite childhood memory?"

"The first time he ever played the piano for his mother." I smile sadly, "He said that she cried for an hour, and asked him to record it – even though it was really shitty – so she could listen to it before she went to bed."

"Food he can't stand?"

"He hates fish. All kinds of fish – salmon, cod, prawns… he said it's because he used to eat it all the time when he was younger, and he developed a kind of aversion to it."

"Favourite song?"

My cheeks flushes with colour, "Mr Brightside."

Alice raises an eyebrow "well there's definitely a story to that."

"Um, yeah, well – that was the song that was playing in the background when he first went dow-"

"Okaaay then!" Alice laughs, "Y'know for a moment then, I thought it was going to be something really romantic. Like the song that played in the background to your first kiss."

This time I am the one who laughs, "No. That was 'Despacito'. No way would Edward ever admit to liking Justin Bieber."

Alice looks at me, unamused "if your boyfriend has an issue with the Biebs, then he can take that up with me."

I roll my eyes "You sound like such a fangirl right now."

"Yes. And a proud and strong one, at that! While I cannot vouch for his earlier hits, no one can argue that his latest ones have been genius."

Upon seeing the fierce look on her face, I don't dare argue, "was there a point to your twenty questions?"

She manages to shake herself from her Justin trance and stares at me pointedly, "my point is… you've dated for a month and look at how much you know! And it may not all be about his past, but you know his present. All of it may come across as small and inconsequential, but all of it adds up to the man he is today, and isn't that the most important thing? You aren't falling for the man of the past, or even the man of the future. It's the guy who is currently working at a bar, who is probably dying to be here at this very moment."

I gaze at her, digesting her words.

Fuck… she is right.

Edward has opened up to me. Perhaps not on the topics that I want him to, but I know the most significant stuff like his favourite toothpaste brand, and comfort food. What his face looks like when he is tired; how his eyes sparkle when he is happy and what his voice sounds like when he is frustrated. How he looks when he gets up in the morning, and the pattern of his breathes when he sleeps. All his guilty pleasures, celebrity crushes growing up, favourite sports. The first composition he ever played and the last he ever played for his mother. All these little yet wonderful details that add up to this fantastic man... the one I am undeniably falling head over heels for.

"Shit. Alice you are a genius!" I squeal, incredulously. In the light of my epiphany, I throw myself into Alice's lap, hugging her tightly.

She giggles at the overjoyed display I am showing, grasping at me with equal strength.

I don't know how long we just sit there, giggling on the bathroom floor in the early hours of a Thursday morning. However, it feels spectacular just to share a moment of pure happiness with my best friend.

I pull away from her grinning, "Let's do something. Just us two, yeah?"

She smiles, "yes! I have some… stuffto do tomorrow, but is Friday okay?"

"Friday is good… are you okay though? What stuff is going on? Shouldn't you be waiting till you feel better?"

Alice gives me a small smile, "I have been avoiding it for a while now, but it shouldn't take too long… hopefully."

"Well, just call me if you need help."

She lays her head on my shoulder sighing, "I am counting on that."

…

"Okay, thanks guys! Just look over chapter twenty two for our next lecture, picking up the key themes and patterns."

I slide my books into my rucksack, throwing it over my shoulder. I wonder what will be on the agenda tonight. That TV binge night isn't an option since Alice is busy today. With what, I still don't know. She had been up early this morning, despite having gone to bed approaching two thirty, looking extremely nervous and a little sick. But before I could insist that she should stay home, she was out of the door.

It is so out of character of her to be quiet and mysterious, and it is sort of freaking me out. I should have noticed a lot sooner.

I haven't heard much from Edward either. He had sent me a text around two o'clock this morning, to say that he had gotten home safe and that he missed me. He always knows exactly what to say.

His text and the revelations Alice had enlightened to me last night made me twist and turn. I don't know what to make of it all. I stand by my previous thoughts – Edward is hiding something. Instead of feeling frustrated about it, I now feel… content. I do know Edward. Well, at least who he is today. Whatever happened in his past, I am willing to wait for. Alice is right – I do not need to know his childhood to truly fall in love with him. I am doing that all by myself.

"Miss Swan?"

I fall from my inner musings by my lecturer, Professor Banner or 'Alan'. Alan is the Head of English at NYU and a massive inspiration to all of us aspiring writers, having released several well-known fictional novels and poetry anthropologies. Although he is at the relatively young age of forty-two, Professor Banner is one of the most respected members at NYU.

So, when he calls my attention, I am of course – terrified. Has he noticed that I'm a little distracted lately? Was my most recent essay below par?

"Yes Sir?"

He smiles at me kindly, making me relax slightly.

"Bella, how many times have I asked you to call me Alan?"

I smile coyly, "I think this is the fiftieth time Si – Alan."

He chuckles, "well, Bella I have called you over because the board and I have come to a decision."

I shuffle my feet, nervously, "oh?"

"Yes. Based on your insightful views, and extra-ordinary marks; we would very much like for you to deliver the speech at the Annual Humanities Ball, next Saturday."

I stop, completely blown away for a moment. Me? Giving the speech?

The Humanities Ball is a tradition at the College, inviting all students from humanity-based subjects – English, history, philosophy, modern languages etc. At the end of the banquet, there is a collection of speeches – one from the Head of Humanities, the Head of the College itself, a guest speaker (last year it was the Mayor of New York) and lastly, a third year student – typically one of the brightest students of the year.

And they think I fit this criterion? I mean, I work my ass off and I'm extremely passionate for my subject but never in a million years, did I think that I would be recognised in such a prestigious manner.

"I would be honoured."

His face lights up, he shakes my hand delightedly – "That is wonderful news Bella! Of course, you may bring a plus one… your parents perhaps? Or a partner?"

I look at him thoughtfully, "I'll ask."

"Fantastic. Just let me know tomorrow, so that I can place them on the guest list."

I nod, shaking his hand again before leaving – still in a daze.

There is no doubt in my mind that Renée and Charlie will be beyond thrilled with the news. But I also know my parents. Renée would be too fidgety at a ball; she would get bored within an hour, and find the whole thing dull – it just wasn't her scene. Put her into a loud, bustling nightclub any day of the week and she would fit right in.

Then there is Charlie. To put it sweetly – my father hates leaving Forks. He is a home bird at heart and it would take a serious incident for him to leave the small town.

Even when I was living in Phoenix, I was the one who had to travel to see him. When I was younger, my mother used to make up some wild stories about it. She would tell me, that he couldn't leave Forks because he was their sole protector – a man who defended innocent folk from monsters – vampires and werewolves. Other times she said that if he even tried to pass the boundary of Forks, something terrible would happen. I think she got that idea from that one time we watched 'Once Upon a Time'. As I got older however, it became clear, that Charlie simply felt comfortable in Forks. It's his home – a place he has always known.

Perhaps that's why my mother was so desperate to leave, and later why I was happy to move away. Forks, is one of those towns that came with a life plan. Everyone grows up together then you meet your future wife or husband in high school. Get a shitty job at the local Diner, grocery store, or most ambitiously –Fork's High School or police force. Have kids, and live in one of the identical red brick houses with a white picket fence; living the exact life your parents carried out.

It is lineal, and growing up with ambitions and goals, it is a place that I avoid spectacularly.

As the cold winter air whips my hair around, I bring my coat tighter around me. Perhaps I can ask Edward. I doubt that he would very much enjoy a ball, but he would make it significantly less boring. In fact – I love the idea of him coming to support me. In one of the most important milestones of my College career.

I can feel a wide smile stretch across my face as I wander down the street, yes – I will ask Edward.

In my deep happiness, I become totally oblivious to the sudden pressure around my waist as I am yanked sideways into an alley.

Gasping, I find myself held against a brick wall – facing the object of my thoughts.

"Fucking hell Edward! I thought I was going to get mugged!"

I half-heartedly attempt to push against his strong chest, but his arms are like an iron cage.

He chuckles slightly, pressing into me – so close, that he can probably feel my pounding heart.

He twists a strand of my hair that has come loose from my ponytail, around his finger.

"Sorry baby, I was waiting for you outside your lecture but you seemed totally in your own world. I called you at least three times… I thought you were mad at me."

I giggle, rising on my toes to rub my cold nose against his "it's been a crazy day."

Edward leans in, giving me a sweet kiss. His lips taste of coffee and cinnamon, and something that is completely Edward. I sigh up against his lips, leaving my mouth open to him.

He slips his tongue in, stroking it against mine in a soft dance, entwining them together. I pull away slightly, nibbling at his lips. He growls, sending delicious vibrations into my skin. My body sings for him, and while the weather is frosty; I am desperately warm.

"I missed you," He murmurs.

I smile, still kissing him, "Me too."

He pulls away, leaning his forehead against mine. I moan at the loss of his lips – causing him to snicker at my antics.

"So I was thinking…"

I peck up and down at his chin, and the parts of his neck that are not covered by the thick grey wool of his scarf.

"Sweetheart, you are making this a little difficult to get out," he groans, but doesn't move away from my advances.

I smile evilly, "can it wait?" I have been without his lips for hours, goddamn it!

He cups my chin, tipping my head backwards to plant another one of his amazing kisses on me. Will I ever get sick of his kisses?

His tongue languidly traces my lips, and his teeth tease my tongue – alternating between soft bites to cute nibbles.

He then pushes me up, dragging my body up the wall and pushing his thigh between my two legs so that I am virtually sitting on it. Now at his height, he starts licking at the sensitive spot behind my ear, sucking the lobe of my ear lightly.

"You going to listen to me now?"

His sucking grows more powerful, causing my head to fall back, hitting the wall with a soft thud.

"If I say yes then will you continue that?" I ask – between heavy breaths.

He laughs, kissing my ear "Yes."

"Then hell yeah, I'm listening."

He looks at me directly in the eyes, his emerald ones serious. Still shaky from the phenomenal ear attention, I attempt to copy him.

"Do you… I mean would you, um… like to stay with me at my apartment tonight?"

I just watch him. How many times today have I been rendered speechless? Three times? Have I swallowed my tongue?

While this small part of my consciousness questions my capability of speech, the larger portion is jumping up and down in exhilaration and triumph.

This is it! He finally trusts me. He wants to give himself to me, as wholly as I want to give myself to him.

I don't know how large my smile is – but it totally obliterates the wonder and happiness I felt just minutes ago, when I was given the biggest opportunity in my time at NYU.

Edward – my Edward wants to share more of himself with me, Bella Swan.

He chuckles at what might be the stupidest expression on my face.

"I'll take that beautiful smile as a yes?"

I pounce on him, taking him by surprise and push him across the alley so that he is the one trapped against a wall.

He releases a shocked laugh, but it becomes muffled by the wet kiss I press to his lips.

"Definitely yes."

I lick down his throat, biting down every now and again. He laughingly groans.

"If I had known this is the reaction I would get, I would have invited you over ages ago." Edward teases, although it came out more as a moan.

"Don't push it Mason."

We don't talk too much after that.

…

After we had realised that we were making out (to the point of where it was bordering second base) in a public area, we both agreed that he would pick me up from my apartment at seven, and we'd have a takeaway at his apartment.

So, at 6:45, I am practically bouncing around my room; throwing in an overnight bag random bits of clothing.

It looks like Alice hadn't been back to the apartment since this morning, and when I try to call her with the news of my whereabouts this evening, she doesn't pick up.

Normally this would worry me – Alice is always tapping away on her flashy iPhone, whether she is searching for the latest fashion trends or stalking people on Instagram.

But I reason that was she is most probably with Jasper, doing who knows what. They are a kinky pair.

The doorbell rings, and I swear – I nearly fly to the door to answer.

Edward stands there, smiling almost nervously. It's rare to see such a smile on his face, but he looks beyond adorable with it on. He wears the same outfit he wore this morning – a dark sweater under a black coat, jeans, broken up by a light grey, woollen scarf. He looks amazing, but then again, he always does.

I grin at him, immediately pulling him in to an embrace.

His strong arms encircle me, and I can feel his breath on my hair, as he tucks his face into the crook of my neck.

"Hello gorgeous."

"Hey. You are early."

"I missed you."

I laugh, "I saw you two hours ago."

He shrugs, "Can't I miss my beautiful girlfriend?"

I blush, not saying anything.

"You ready to go?"

I nod, turning to grab my bag. He instantly takes it from me, and grabs my other hand.

Once I finish locking up, we walk down to his car.

We chat in between, asking one another about menial things – have we been up to anything since we parted mere hours ago, what we are looking forward to tonight, what we wanted to eat from the Chinese.

I don't bring up my ball, choosing to ask him after dinner. I am almost nervous about asking him. It's such a big deal for me, and although I know he would love to support me, my stomach does an uneasy flip.

When we reach his apartment – I am stunned.

I should've known it would be nice. I mean – he owns the most successful bar in New York, he owns a Fat Boy S, our first date was at a world known music festival for Christ's sake.

Nevertheless, nothing prepares me for the building he lives in.

Tall and grand; the floors are all marble and the walls are made from glass. Golden chandeliers are hanging from the ceiling. It distinctly reminds me of Rosalie's apartment. My stomach does another uncomfortable twist at the thought.

I would never place Edward in a place like this, and the stiff way in which he walks shows that he doesn't even feel totally comfortable either.

Maybe this is why he is always at my apartment rather than asking me to spend time at his. Although my apartment is smaller to this, it is extremely homey and cosy; it oozes comfort.

He draws circles on the back of my hand, as we head to the lift. It doesn't escape my notice that he presses the top button – the penthouse… of course.

I give him a side-glance, but he just stares ahead.

The silence is thick when we finally reach his floor. He takes out a posh looking key card. Again I don't say anything. He knows what I am thinking. He knows that there must be a hundred questions floating through my mind right now.

But he does nothing. He holds the door open for me, and when I step through, it just exudes luxury.

To my right he throws his keys into a side table. Opposite that there is a door, most likely a walking closet or something ridiculous like that.

The hallway immediately opens up into a beyond beautiful living room. All the walls are made from glass, allowing us to look at the amazing skyline, the sky a perfect peachy pink, fading into a soft orange. The windows go out to a large, private balcony where a table, chairs and umbrella conveniently sit.

The glow of the sunset casts shadows across the room; the large grey corner sofa that is set at the far left of the room in front of a massive – and by massive, I mean HUGE TV and speaker set. There are black leather and grey chairs dotted around the space. Towards the centre there is a magnificent, black grand piano; near the windows, giving whoever plays it a wonderful view of New York. At the far right, big, thick columns noticeably hold up the high ceilings; and there is a gorgeous dining space. Guitars line the walls.

I tug off my Converses before moving further into the room, already feeling the heating underneath the dark wooden floorboards.

"So here's the living, slash dining area" Edward says awkwardly "I don't really use the dining table that much, but Es – well, some people were quite insistent on it."

He takes my hand, leading me to the right, where there is a doorway. He flicks the spotlights on as we walk; and I can't help but feel how cold the lights are, in comparison to the warm glow my lamps offer back at my apartment.

He leads me into the kitchen, and for the first time I can actually see myself spending time here. It is state of the art; the oven, microwave, hob, fridge, coffeemaker, blender – it is all top quality, in a tasteful stainless steel. A large marble breakfast bar, with leather stools stood in the middle, under three industrial, trendy lights. There is storage space covering the walls; appearing to be marble.

"Wow," I breathe, sweeping my hand reverently over the work surfaces.

Edward chuckles, "I knew you'd like this place. Do you want to see the rest of the place, or would you prefer to drool over my oven" he teases.

"It's just so pretty."

He lets out a full blown belly laugh at that, pulling on my hand, "c'mon my little Julia Childs."

I smack him lightly on the chest at the nickname, but follow him.

We leave the kitchen, walking back through the dining/living area towards another doorway. This leads to a long hallway with several large, oak doors.

"Bathroom," he says pointing to our right.

"Guest room," he gestures to the left.

"Wet room," he motions back to the right.

Then we come to the last door, at the bottom of the hall.

"My room" he whispers.

He doesn't go to open it, he just watches me; waiting for me.

I cautiously open the door, and gasp at the sight.

The rest of the apartment could have passed for any rich bachelor, but this room. It is so Edward in every sense of the word.

He has a four-poster, king size bed; that I could literally see us rolling on, covered by rich golden sheets.

While the eastern wall is again made from glass with a view to die for, the entire south wall is covered top to bottom with shelves; filled with movies, books and CDs. At closer inspection, they are also alphabetically placed – reaffirming my previous observation of how organised he is.

There are black and white photographs on the west wall. I look up at Edward, silently asking if I am able to look. While he is making the effort into sharing a piece of himself with me, I don't want to over step the mark and scare him off.

The photographs are beautiful. Some look to be professionally done – probably by Kate. They are pictures of him and Garrett – messing about on guitars, mid laugh.

There is a more amateur picture of him and Emmett, holding up their beers to the camera, a crooked grin on Edward's face. He looks so much younger in that picture, perhaps nineteen or twenty.

I smile, looking at the next photo. In this one Edward is much younger again. He appears to be ten, his face filled with adoration as he sits next to a beautiful woman who tinkers away at a piano.

She has a soft smile on her face, as she gazes down at her hands that dance along the ivory keys. The black and white photo obscure the colour of her hair, but the sharp angles of her face, and the slight crookedness of her smile totally tell me that she is-

"My mother" Edward says quietly.

I gaze up at him, placing a comforting hand on his chest "she was stunning."

He smiles "she was," then he looks at me "she would have loved you."

I feel myself turn pink at the comment, "I would have loved to have met her."

I look back at the photographs, and the last picture catches my eye.

It's… me.

I remember him snapping it on one of our lazy mornings in bed.

"Let me take a picture of you."

"Noooo" I squealed, hiding my face under a pillow.

"Aw, don't do that! I can't see your pretty face."

I started to giggle as he began to tickle me behind the knee. Curse him knowing my secret tickle spot!

"Why do you want a picture of me?" I moaned, as he threw the pillow to the other side of the room.

"Because you are beautiful. The most beautiful thing in this world, and you deserve to be photographed."

My heart swelled and my cheeks flushed at his sincere compliment. Fuck, I definitely couldn't refuse him after that!

"Even if I have bed head and no make up?"

He straddles my body, cupping my face between his hands "especially if you have bed head and no make up."

As I start laughing at the absurdness of his statement, the camera clicks.

"I wasn't ready!" I moan, reaching for his phone.

"It's perfect."

And here it is. Taken from above me, there is a white sheet tight around my upper body, effectively hiding my tits but leaving nothing to the imagination as my collarbones and shoulders are left bare.

My dark hair is spread out around my face, almost like a halo against the white pillows, and my head is tossed back laughter. My entire face is lit up, dimples visible, eyes closed, eyelashes casting shadows across my face.

I touch the photograph with my fingertips; I had never ever seen myself so happy in all my life.

"I have such bad bed hair," I say jokingly.

Edward places his hands on my waist, turning me so that I face him – "You are absolutely perfect."

He presses one of those kisses on me. The kiss that makes my blood sings and heart race.

I weave my fingers through his bronze hair; loving the texture.

"I wrote you a song," he says as I place frantic kisses on his face.

"What?"

"I wrote you a, um composition… would you like to hear it?"

Between his news and the kisses I nod dazed.

He takes me out of the bathroom, towards the baby grand piano that sits in the living room.

He sits on the stool, moving over so I can sit next to him. My heart flutters as he rakes a hand through his hair; he looks terrified. This was the first time he was playing for me, after all.

I lean my head into the crook of his neck, waiting for his song, and he sighs contently at the contact.

Then he plays.

He moves his hands with such… grace, and fluidity. They fly up and down, weaving together a song that was not just about me but us.

There are the strong, passionate notes that represent our beginning – the fiery kiss in the club that left us both craving more. Then the softer, more seductive notes that sound to our meeting at Rosalie's party... Then there are the harmonious, beautiful notes of us coming together – finally becoming a couple.

I watch him as he closes his eyes, the music flowing through him into the piano, and in that moment I know that I am unconditionally and irrevocably falling for this man.

When he stops, there are tears trailing down my cheeks. I feel so much for him. The music, it was just proof of how perfect we are together.

I throw a leg over his, straddling him and kiss him senseless to which he responds in equal fever.

"It was… it was…"

"Beautiful?" Edward asks, hopefully.

I shake my head. His whole body slumps and a look of rejection mar his features.

I tip his chin back, staring into those eyes – those amazing, emerald eyes, "it was beguiling."

He beams, releasing a radiant laugh.

I love him.