A/N: So. New Chapter. Two Reviews. That's all I get. There were 22 hits, and I got 2 reviews. And one author alert.

All right. Fine. I'm not complaining or anything. I'm just going to sit here and wait.

"Iris" by Goo Goo Dolls

We were waiting outside of a room where a young woman, no older than twenty five years old, was just finishing up her check up with the oncologist Doctor Roberts. Esme fiddled with the ribbons on the tiny basket, which held three muffins and a card. I asked her why she had put a card -- she didn't even know his woman. She smiled but bared no teeth, and said it made things more personal

This is my first time going with her to the hospital, or rather, anywhere else outside of the Cullen home since I became the devil. They said I had to learn to control my thirst. I knew it meant that I had to learn not to kill people.

But I could still hear their heartbeats -- one slower than the other, but still beating. I could still hear that hypnotic thud-thud... thud-thud... that called to me every moment of the day. The burning at the end of my throat continues to remind me that I still need her blood, no matter how much I crave to walk among them. It's like shushing your true self, so that you can pretend to be normal. It's like putting on a show, a wonderful grand show for everyone around you and recieving no applause after it. Only by yourself could you unleash your true nature because no one would be looking. I feel like a liar. A nasty, disgusting liar. And lying is a sin.

When Doctor Roberts exited the room, his clipboard tucked underneath the arm through his lab coat, his blood still pulsating through his veins, he stopped to greet Esme. I almost died. His blood was all I could think of. He was so close. I looked at Esme. She didn't even wince, like she didn't even smell it. Still, the burning clawed at my throat. I wanted to scream.

It would be easy to take Dr. Roberts. He didn't look too strong, and if planned correctly and my attack came as a surprise, it would be even easier to sink my teeth into his wrist.

"Esme," I said quietly, making sure that my tone was inaudible to the doctor. "Can I go?"

"Well, thank you for stopping to chat with me, Dr. Roberts," she says, "If you don't mind, I've got a few muffin baskets to deliver."

"Of course! Where does the time go?" he nervously chuckles, "Good-bye Esme."

His scent is still here. I hold my breath. Esme went in and a few moments later I could hear the wrinkling of fabrics and the squeak of the bed.

"Morning, Lucia," Esme cheerfully says to the girl. "I brought you a little something."

I heard a groan, and the creaking of the bed again.

"Here, let me help you up."

"Thank you," Lucia says.

I heard Esme hand her the basket because the plastic crinkled.

"Oh Esme, you didn't have to do this."

"But I wanted to," Esme said.

I realized then that Esme visited these people, showered them with homemade gifts, talked to them for a few moments and pretended to care about them, was all to satisfy her desire to be human again. It made her feel a little more normal and less like a monster. But Esme isn't a monster. She's beautiful and sweet and genuine.

Esme never lies about anything. When I asked her if being a monster would be painless, she told me it would not. She told me that I would go through the greatest pain any one had ever gone through. But even as I wailed about what I had become, Esme stood there strong as a rock and held my hand.

I think God would be pleased with Esme. Even if she's something He does not condone. I'm sure God still thinks Esme is human.

I wonder if I could ever be human too.