He raced through the trees, feeling the speed, the release … the power. Then a house loomed ahead of him. He noticed that it was her house that stood before him. He shouldn't have come here and he knew it. The struggle to stay away from here -- from her-- was a constant one. His body had carried him here with out even realising it. How pathetic.

Already the monster inside grinned his grin with his face, though it seemed much more menacing with the glowing crimson eyes. The features were harder too, seeming to be without compassion, or empathy. He could see the images of her dying, screaming out in pain and fear as she realised what was really happening. And who would notice if this girl were to disappear in the night? Purred the monster tempting him with more images. There would be no evidence to make the people of forks suspicious of the good doctor and his family. Who would think it strange that soon after the murder of miss Isabella swan that the talented young doctor have a job offering else where?

But the image of the young innocent lying dead and drained on the ground seemed to haunt him more then it would normally. It was almost painful to imagine.

Yes, Carlisle had rubbed off on him. The monster retreated some at the thought of Carlisle. Carlisle would know what had really happened, and though he knew he would accept him back, forgive him, there would still be hurt, betrayed. And his eyes. They would glow red, his family would see it. He was supposed to be practiced – strong --but instead he had put him self in the way of temptation.

He sighed and looked at the window. Her scent being recognizable even through the glass of her window. He tried to quietly climb through the opening becoming completely still – not even daring to breath-- when the window groaned in resistance of his entry. Then he carefully, oh so carefully opened the window and slipped soundlessly inside.

He realized he had not resumed his breathing when it became uncomfortable. He took a slow cautious breath in. Her scent attacked him ruthlessly, but he had become more practiced after having to endure the sweet torture of sitting beside her for one hour, five days a week. How something could be so heavenly yet so torturous was beyond him. The need to hunt-- to attack-- became stronger while she lay so helpless in her sleep. Mmmmm delicious… the monster sneered. He stood completely motionless, closing his eyes, and halting his breathing.

He waited until he had gained control again. Slowly he began to breathe again. Cautiously. Then slowly he opened his eyes.His breathing again halted again as he took in her sleeping form.

Moonlight that had fought its way thought the clouds had turned her delicate, pale, translucent skin into an alabaster glow. Her dark hair gave a stunning contrast to her skin making her skin seem to give off its own light. The dark hair itself looked almost liquid in its shine, haloing her head. There was something about it that went beyond the obvious beauty of it.

She seemed so…pure. There were no falsities about her, not even the dream of a lie or a false pretence was shown on her features. She was so innocent—an angel. He had unconsciously been reaching out for her. To feel the warmth of the delicate, soft feel of her skin.

When he realized what he was doing he quickly pulled his hand back.

"Thou shall not covet" he quietly scolded him self. Shame for his want pressed down on him. how weak, how selfish and foolish could one be?

Something stirred inside him that was familiar, yet forein. He tried to place the feeling but soon gave up. Preferring instead to watch Bella sleep.

The steady rise and fall of her chest as she breathed was mesmerizing. The perfume of her body was slowly making him lose him self, not in desire for her blood, but in something else—something peaceful and reassuringly familiar. The steady sound of her heart was the only sound in the world and soon he found himself drifting into a sleep like state.

His body was peaceful and relaxed, as was his mind.

Good God, he thought, smiling your intoxicated by her very presence.

"Edward?"

He jumped. The pleasant sleep like state disappeared. He was disappointed by the loss of his new high.

He took a deep breath, stealing for the accusations she was sure to throw at him. He could already hear her soft voice laced with anger, which made it sound so much more attractive for an odd reason, what are you doing in my room? What's wrong with you? And then the question she seemed to favour, it colour her features with every look she gave him. What are you?

"Edward" she mumbled turning in her sleep.

Sleep talking, she was only sleep talking. He almost laughed in relief. Yet there was a disappointment mingled with his relief. In a way he had wanted her to wake. He wanted her voice, her silent yet oh so interesting mind to reveal itself to him with her words, but most of all he wanted to see her eyes. Those strangely deep chocolate brown eyes that--he would swear upon his unbeating heart--saw him for what he really was, and instead of being disconcerting it was heartening. He stretched his arm out again, this time to move a lock of stray brown hair that fell across her face.

What would her reaction be if I were to touch her? For her to know what he was and feel his cold hard flesh against her warm soft skin.

"You don't like the cold."
"Or the wet"

The memory pressed into his mind. She would shiver at the cold feel of his skin…and probably hate it.
For some reason this—hurt. It felt like some one was squeezing his heart.

He pulled his hand away from her face to press it to his silent heart. A heart that had not felt anything since he was human.

Something clicked inside. That strange feeling he was unable to place suddenly made sense. He felt… human. He smiled at the young girl lying before him. He was filled with adoration for her, this girl was changing him. He had not undergone any kind of change since he had met Carlisle in Chicago.

Bella murmured something in her sleep and turned towards him. The feeling multiplied exponentially as did the size of his smile.

Something caught his attention from over the horizon. The sun was starting to rise.

Had he truly spent all night here with her? This had to have been one of the most pleasant nights of his existence. He would be returning soon. Tomorrow night, and the night after that. He smiled again.

Slowly, unwillingly he crept towards the window. It groaned again as he opened it to make his escape. Tomorrow he would bring oil.

As he jumped from her window he wondered what the others would think about his new infatuation. With a sinking heart they realized that they would likely think it disgusting, ungentimanly. He started to run towards the large white house, to his father and mother, brothers and sisters, but as he ran he didn't feel like he was heading home. In fact every step that took him farther from Bella felt like a step away from home.

He didn't care what his family thought. He needed her. Even if it was just to be in her presence for the night. He needed his fix for the addiction that was Isabella Swan.