Edward

Although my phone flashlight was still shining directly into my face, I could see the details of Bella's dark bedroom in front of me in perfect clarity. She was still dressed from the day, something that obviously hadn't crossed her mind as she began to settle down to sleep. Tell her everything. Where to begin? Perhaps my storytelling would finally give her the chills I expected her to feel, would finally shake her enough to realise how dangerous I really was. If I told her everything, including the years I was most ashamed of, would she run? Would she demand I leave in the middle of the night? Could I leave her alone if she did choose to shun me? If I only had a window, a glimpse into what her mind was like. Every reaction I anticipated, or expected, never came. Her humour and good-natured stance seemed to dominate over rationality. The darkness that had filled her eyes when she recounted her life over the past few years, the lack of belonging, the need for normality in some sense, it was utterly heartbreaking. I had never felt a stronger urge to protect her, and yet - I could not shield her from her own thoughts, her own memories.

Our new 'stalking rules' were interesting ones. She hadn't stopped me from watching her, as I would have anticipated, but instead had requested that I let her know in advance. Half of me hoped that she would never send me away, and I wouldn't have to ask her if I could keep an eye on her. The other half wanted to be sent away. I was, after all, the most dangerous thing to ever cross her path. And now she wanted me to tell her my story. Would I shield her from the less pleasant aspects of my life? That would hardly be fair, as she had divulged the most traumatizing parts of hers a few hours ago. I would probably share with her. Esme would want me to.

The object of my distress and affection blinked sleepily at me, waiting. I sighed.

"I was born in Chicago in 1901. I don't remember much about my human life, as those memories tend to fade easily. I've told you that Carlisle found me in 1918. My mother, father, and I were in a hospital in early September - dying of the Spanish Influenza. Ironically I have vivid memories of the unconscious figures of myself and my family during these days, as Carlisle's memory of those times is flawless, and I'm often in his head." I smiled at the memory of my father figure and his worry. His terror that he had done the wrong thing, or that I wouldn't adjust well, that I would hate him for what he had done.

"Carlisle often re-lives my creation in his thoughts. He spirited me away from the hospital as I was hours from death, in a body bag no less. Three days of intense pain later, and I awoke for the last time in my existence. In hindsight, during my transformation, I thought I had heard his mutterings of concern, as if he were talking to me almost incessantly. In reality, Carlisle offered words of assurance very sparingly, and I was in fact reading his mind."

"The morality behind his decision to save my life was strong and pure. I have a very unique perspective among my family, where I am the only individual to truly see how pure Carlisle really is. His thoughts against even the monsters of our kind are so compassionate, so seeking of goodness and love that it's almost infuriating. His solemnity regarding my change was a difficult time for him, and I believe that my recovery may not have gone so well if I hadn't been privy to his mental workings. I could have been very angry at him, if I honestly didn't see the belief he held that he was helping."

I realised I had strayed from my initial topic, and also wondered how much Bella had actually heard and understood. I looked intently at her for signs of confusion.

"Did you hear all of that?"

She smiled sleepily and nodded, ruffling her hair against the pillow. My hand itched to stroke it back away from her face, but I folded it into my other one. I was so close to her face that I could reach in and kiss her with a simple lean of my torso. I was also painfully aware of the fact that I could just as easily lean in and bite her.

"Let me know if there is anything you need clarification on."

"I will. You're right in my face, and I've got nothing else to distract me, so the hearing side of things is fine. As long as you keep talking in the tone, and speed, and with the articulation that you are, I'll be good. Only the subject matter could possibly confuse me now. Please go on."

My hand moved without my telling it to, and I pushed a stray strand of hair away from her eyebrow. Her heart fluttered as I did it and I smiled, before continuing again, hopefully in a more logical stream.

It took another few hours of talking for me to explain my life - at least - the important parts that she was inquiring about. I talked in great detail about the early years, our learning about my talents, our moving to new homes, our acquisition (though not in any revealing detail) of Esme in 1921. She seemed particularly amused by the story of Esme meeting Carlisle twice. I began my dark history, the four years in which I had chosen to rebel from my adopted parents. Bella's eyes widened and she seemed more alert during this story segment. I half-wondered if I was scaring her, but ultimately decided that she was probably just concerned for me, as I had been for her downstairs earlier tonight.

"I made sure to hunt only those who were hunters themselves. I tried to convince myself that I was saving lives proactively."

"Well technically you were." Bella whispered. Her voice was thick with drowsiness. I looked down at her eyes, wide open, staring at my lips.

"Perhaps we should call it a night. You're so tired you're agreeing with a teenage vampire rebel." I smiled at her. She shook her head, mashing her face into the pillow as if the extra rubbing sensation would help to wake her. When she looked back at me her eyebrows were ruffled. It was adorable.

"I want to at least get to the part where you get back to Carlisle and Esme," she bargained stubbornly.

"And after that I got back to Carlisle and Esme." I said instantly. She hit me. If I hadn't have been watching I wouldn't have felt it. She didn't try very hard, and my body was like stone to her anyway.

"You can't just skip years of detail in a single sentence," she protested weakly.

"I think I just did." I grinned triumphantly. I wanted her to fall asleep on a happier note. My past, my murders, were not the stuff of good dream making after all. "I'll pick back up in the morning. I promise you."

"Will you go back to when you were hunting and explain it better?" She asked. She was an awfully stubborn person. I acquiesced

"Fine. Now please go to sleep. I'll be right here in the morning." To me, those words sounded almost threatening, but she seemed comforted.

"Mmmkay. Don't do nefarious things. Goodnight Edward."

"Goodnight Isabella."

She scowled at the full use of her name, and tucked her hands under her face in a warming self-snuggle. And her breathing had slowed in a matter of minutes.

I gingerly pulled her blanket from the left side of her bed, folding it across her like a pita, as she was laying on top of the other half. I wondered if that would be enough warmth. I could scour her linen closet for another blanket to close the gap. I battled with myself for a few minutes, and then heard the small beep of my cell phone transitioning to low power. The flashlight use had drained it much faster than normal. I turned off the device and placed it into my pocket.

I stared out of the window. It had stopped raining, at least for the moment. I would need to return my wet outdoor clothes to my house, for if Charlie caught sight of them stuffed up the tree, he'd undoubtedly question Bella. I closed my eyes and focused on his mind, seeing the indistinct patterns of colour and fragments of distorted memory that came with human sleep. Again I wondered if that's what Bella saw. They would probably both be out cold for a while, but if I left now, to dispose of the clothing and grab my school gear for tomorrow then I could return unhindered all night. I gently slid Bella's window open, making sure to not move the bed, and vaulted myself outside.

I grabbed the clothing, and began to run the now familiar trail between my house and hers. The blurs of sleeping thoughts flickered across my mind until I heard Bella's name. I slowed slightly, focusing on the direction and tenor. It was Angela Webb. She had been awoken by Rocky, her dog, and was thinking about inviting Bella over on Saturday, after the dance.

We could de-stress, talk if she likes. I could show her the signs I've learned. I wonder if I'll remember that in the morning. It is morning. Oh hurry up Rocky. I'm freezing. It's so late it's early.

I smiled and picked up the pace again. Angela was my favourite human before I'd met Bella, if I had to pick one. She was very much identical in manner to Carlisle, with a little mix of Esme's motherly tendencies and selflessness. I was at the outer borders of my property when I heard the thoughts of my family. Most were in their own spaces, but Alice was prepping a tiny overnight bag for me. I laughed aloud as I crossed the threshold. Jasper was at my side almost instantly.

Do you realise how happy you are recently? It's unsettling.

"I didn't mean to cause you distress." I answered sarcastically.

Didn't say it was bad. Said it was unsettling. I'm used to your emotional climate being that of a mopey thirteen year old, with occasional thirty year old spurts.

I rolled my eyes at his obvious use of exaggeration.

You know what I mean. It's nice to finally have some joy come out of you. If only we could clear up the blonde thundercloud in the garage.

"Good luck with that." I chuckled, headed to Esme. She had asked earlier that I tell her about my day. She was nestled in the arms of Carlisle, wondering if she should get up to come greet me.

"Stay there, mother, I'm coming." I muttered. She laughed.