Thanks for tagging along! I hope you like this chapter, as I really enjoyed writing it. Edward's not always going to be such a timid guy, just to let you all know. He's very afraid of her reaction, but once he's assured she'll reciprocate his feelings, he's going to come out of his shell a bit. So hopefully you'll enjoy the ride as they get there!

Chapter 5

EPOV

The world could have been crumbling down around us in its fiery end and I would not have heard a thing.

I knelt to one knee, slowly, my eyes never leaving hers. Her eyes followed my every move, and her expression made my chest ache with overwhelming happiness and relief. It was written all over her face that her reaction was positive – very positive.

My confidence growing with each passing second, I again spoke to her, unable to refrain any longer from telling her something, anything I was dying to say to the love of my existence. She was my world, and my days of watching her from afar and visiting her in her dreams were over.

"Are you afraid?" I asked, sensing that she was not, but needing her to give me a sign that she was alright.

Her beautiful pink lips parted as she licked her lips, mesmerizing me.

"No." Her voice was not shaky, uncertain, or fearful.

We continued to stare at one another for a few moments, each taking the other in, as though we were both staring at the most remarkable discovery that had ever been made in the history of mankind.

"Will you come closer?" she asked, as I struggled not to grin insanely. I knew as I rose to stand that this was the best day of my existence, the greatest joy I had ever known. It was indescribable how complete I felt in this moment.

I carefully closed the few steps of distance between my love and myself, feeling as though I were moving slower than it were even possible for me to move.

I again went down on one knee beside her chair, and waited. My face was tilted up towards hers, taking in her spectacular brown irises. They had tiny flecks of gold scattered throughout them, and she had the same blue ring around each iris as Marie had.

She leaned towards me, and the hope I'd felt earlier today grew three sizes. I was now flying inside, wondering if I would ever come back down.

I remained still, though it was excruciating. I wanted to touch her, to feel her skin, to brush her lips with my thumb.

But my needs and desires will from this day forward come after Isabella's, so I resisted reaching out, and let her lead.

She pushed her quilt aside and leaned over the arm of the chair, extending her hand towards my face. As her hand neared, I closed my eyes in concentration for a moment to compose myself, to ready myself for the exquisite feeling of her warm touch.

I could hear her breathing and her heartbeat, and concentrated on them as her hand slowly neared my skin.

It was in this moment that every day she'd spent in my presence over the years passed before my eyes, in a black and white montage of memories, blending from one into another. Her hair and her eyes remained the same in each memory, only the rest of her changing as she grew from a child into a woman.

I opened my eyes as the last image passed, taking in the woman that was now before me. Her eyes never left mine as her fingers slowly slid into my hair just over my ear; her warm fingers grazed my scalp and my eyes involuntarily rolled into the back of my head, the pleasure overwhelming me.

I moaned quietly, for only a moment, before regaining my composure. I remained perfectly still, giving her silent permission to verify that I was real, that I was very much kneeling before her.

As her fingers exited the back of my hair, she brought the back of her hand to my cheek, brushing it along my cold skin.

I again moaned slightly, the warmth of her hand hitting me in full force. It was indescribable, having never been touched by the one being that holds your heart the way Isabella owned me.

She smiled a bit, I surmised at my reaction to her touch, and retracted her hand to place in her lap. She looked down at her hand, and then back at me again.

"You're cold." She said it as a matter-of-fact type of statement, as though she were making a simple observation. She didn't find my temperature to be frightening, merely curious.

"Yes." I kept my answer simple, giving her a chance to ask me anything she wished; I would tell her anything.

I expected her to ask me why, but she instead surprised me by changing the subject.

"You've been coming to me since I was very young. Each night? In my dreams? It was you."

She wasn't asking. It was a statement.

"Yes," I answered, keeping it simple, as though she might bolt at any moment if she became overwhelmed.

She looked at me, her eyes becoming glossy in the reflection of the fire. Her bottom lip quivered, and I suddenly felt alarm, as though something wasn't right.

I watched her bring her hand to her face, taking a finger into her mouth and biting a fingertip. She inhaled a shaky breath, and to my despair, tears began to drop from her eyes onto her shirt; the sound of the liquid hitting the cotton was like thunder, echoing loudly in my ears.

I crept closer to her, kneeling on both knees now, my chest pressing into the arm of the chair. She was not afraid, but something else was happening that I couldn't decipher.

It was frustrating, as I wanted to do something, but felt helpless as to what.

She closed her eyes and smiled, wiping the tears from her lashes and looking back down at me.

It was then that I knew this might be too much for her, and perhaps I should leave her alone for a while. Everything inside me protested leaving her side, leaving her in this state, but I felt it was only proper for me to offer her time and space from me.

With a heavy heart, I clutched the arm of the chair, only inches from her body and offered.

"Shall I leave you? It appears that I've upset you, and I cannot bear to see you cry -"

"No," she said forcefully, her hand automatically clutching at my arm. She let go after a moment, and gripped the armrest, her hand almost touching my skin.

"I've wanted so badly to know you were real, to one day see you...please don't.." she trailed off, her eyes imploring me to stay.

I smiled at her, wanting to laugh at the absurdity she couldn't possibly be aware of. I could never leave her. I would never be able to walk away from her again, to be satisfied with only speaking to her in her sleep.

I wanted more.

"May I?" I asked, lifting my arm and motioning my hand towards her face. I wanted to touch her wet cheek, to feel her tears on my skin, to offer some comfort.

She shook her head ever so slightly in affirmation, a slight smile breaking across her lips. This made me smile in return, and I gently wiped my thumb across her soft, warm cheek.

My lips parted in amazement at the feel of her wet cheek, having never felt anything like it. She was amazing. The fleeting thought passed through my head, wondering if simply her cheek could feel this incredible, how the rest of her would feel.

Her warm breath on my wrist redirected my thoughts, and I slowly let my hand fall from her face. Resting my arms again on the armrest, I simply gazed at her, unable to hide the enchantment on my face.

We said nothing for a while, only breaking eye contact occasionally to marvel at each others features, which seemed to captivate us both equally.

I said the words to her that I'd been thinking so many times this evening already. She needed to know.

"Isabella, I will never leave." My fingers inched closer to hers, my eyes holding hers as I touched her arm, gently stroking her soft skin reassuringly.

Bumps began to spread on her arm, signaling to me that she was growing cold. I reached out slowly and pulled the blanket back over her lap, and over her arms.

Neither of us said anything more for a while, content to simply be close to the other. I made no more moves to touch her, and she seemed content to look at me; so we remained this way for an unknown amount of time.

The fire crackled in front of us, providing a soothing background noise to fill the silence, which was neither awkward nor uncomfortable.

It was as though we were saying many things without speaking a single word, just looking at one another. It was extravagant, exciting, and completely fulfilling.

BPOV

He was staring at me, gazing at me as though I were the most beautiful, fascinating woman in the world. He made me feel this way without words, without song.

He was beautiful beyond words. His voice in my dreams had long ago cemented him in my thoughts, my heart, and my soul. I loved him before I even saw him, and now that he was here...kneeling before me...

I felt complete, whole.

I saw in his eyes more than I could even put into words. There was so much adoration and love in them, shining from within him...for me.

If I were to die tomorrow, there was nothing else that I would have wished for, nothing else I'd trade for everything in my life up until tonight.

I was now complete, no matter what my future held for me. If I had any say, however, there would never be a me without him. I would go where he goes and never look back.

He was still gazing at me, his beautiful green eyes sparkling with the light of the flames dancing across his irises.

His beautifully sculpted face was gorgeous, regal somehow. His burnished auburn hair was a bed head if I'd ever seen one. It was effortlessly sexy.

His nose was strong, pointed somewhat, and perfect.

His lips looked inviting, and his jaw was strong and defined.

He was breathtaking.

When I'd touched his face, his skin was cold, colder than humanly possible, even in the winter. Somehow, in this moment it didn't matter. It didn't matter to me how this all was even possible, or what everything would mean tomorrow.

All that mattered was here and now, right in front of me.

He was here.

He'd come for me, finally. Then, he swore he wouldn't be leaving just as fast as he'd appeared. My relief was probably desperately obvious, but I didn't care. I wanted him to know.

As intense as it had all been, I could feel it wearing on me as I grew sleepy. I would fight it as long as I could, but perhaps he'd follow me to my room so I could lie down.

"Will you come with me? I need to lie down, but I don't want you to go." I searched his face, waiting impatiently for his reassurance that he would stay.

He seemed amused by something and laughed quietly to himself.

"I will come with you, and I told you, I'm not going anywhere: not tonight, not tomorrow."

I felt my cheeks flush as he seemed a little more cheeky, perhaps a bit of his true personality beginning to break through a bit. The way he'd just laughed somehow had caused my body to sit up and take notice.

As I began to stand, he himself rose and stepped back, giving me space. I left my book in the chair, as I wouldn't be needing any fictitious characters to keep me company tonight. I had something better in front of me than any author could create.

I left the blanket behind and began walking towards my room, as he motioned for me to go first. I could feel him behind me, and my heartbeat increased considerably at the excitement, knowing he was so close to me.

Pushing open my door, I climbed into bed and pulled the covers up to my waist, propping myself up with my pillows a bit.

He stood in the doorway, still looking at me as though Helen of Troy herself was lying in this bed. I smirked and shook my head a bit, still not understanding what this magnificent man was thinking as he was looking at me this way.

Pointing at the chair beside the bed, I asked him to sit by me. I watched as he slowly walked into the room. He was tall, muscular with a slender build, and completely handsome. He gracefully sat in the chair, before standing again and pulling it closer to the bed.

He sank into the chair again, satisfied with its proximity to me, and hung his arms over the armrests as he continued to smile at me. His legs open wide, he looked comfortable now, unlike in the other room when he was kneeling beside me.

I looked down at my hands and self-consciously examined my fingernails, trying to decide what to say to the man of my dreams, literally.

I'd been dying to meet him for years, wanting to say so much to him. And now? Where to begin.

I decided the most obvious place to start would be with the most basic question yet to be asked by myself, and go from there.

"May I ask what your name is?" I looked at him as he smiled a dazzling smile, the first one yet.

It made my heart flutter, and I felt myself flush again. He certainly had a powerful effect on me. Thoughts flashed through my mind in that moment about what other effects he could have on me.

"Edward, my name is Edward" he answered. He leaned forward, elbows propped on his knees, still studying me closely.

Edward. Finally, after all these years; not only did I have a name, but he was here with me.

"It fits you," I smiled, eliciting a grin from him.

"Isabella fits you as well. It is the most beautiful name I've ever heard."

His words made my heart swell, and I had to look away momentarily as a wave of shyness hit. I studied my hands again, as I did when I was nervous. I always pretended to study the back of my hand, my nails, anything until it passed.

Suddenly, my next question, however silly, popped into my head.

"Did you stock the pantry before I arrived? With my favorite English biscuits and everything else in there?" I looked up from my hands to find him looking at me intently.

"Yes. I arranged for everything for your comfort to be brought here, including plenty of firewood for the winter. Your grandmother used to arrange these things, but I observed everything that you preferred and set it to memory. I knew one day you would return."

I thought for a moment at what he had just said, about knowing I would return.

"Do you...live here too?" I asked, unsure of how to phrase it delicately. I already knew the answer, but wanted to hear him speak. His voice was no longer in my dreams, but here, right in front of me.

He laughed to himself, running his hand through his hair atop his head, making me want to run my fingers through it again.

"Yes, I live here as well. I've lived here for many years."

I looked at him carefully, trying to gauge his age. He didn't look much older than myself, and my grandmother had never mentioned him living here. I'd never seen him here in all my summers of visiting, neither.

"Years, hmm?" I bit my bottom lip as I hesitated to ask him his age. To some, it was considered rude, but under the circumstances, I decided we'd passed 'unconventional' a long time ago. "How old are you?"

He gazed at me intently for a moment, looking as though he were thinking about something hard.

"17." He looked at me, and everything about his expression told me he was being completely serious.

"17? You can't be younger than me. That's impossible. I already know you're the one whose voice I've been hearing in my sleep since I was a little girl..."

"My age is 17, I assure you. I wouldn't lie to you, Isabella."

The wheels were turning in my head as I thought about the supernatural end of the thing between us, and somehow, things began to become glaringly apparent. Some things didn't add up, didn't seem possible.

"Okay, 17 then. Can I ask you another question?"

"Anything," he smiled, scooting the chair closer to the bed. "Is this alright?"

I nodded and took a deep breath. Here goes.

"How long have you been 17?" I said hurriedly, unsure of his reaction to my blunt question.

His smile faded and he slowly sat back in the chair, folding his hands in his lap, still meeting my gaze. Without any expression on his face, he studied me searchingly.

"Isabella, anything you ask me, I will tell you. I want no secrets between us. I value you too much for there to be anything but honesty between us. I will answer your question if it is what you want. Do you still want an answer to your question?"

His seriousness and candor took me by surprise, as the brevity of the question sank in. It was obviously something he was concerned about speaking about.

I didn't hesitate in my wish to know the answer, as nothing he could tell me would change this thing between us, whatever it was. He completed me, and I'd known it for many years now. He obviously felt the same.

"Yes."

"Very well." He didn't so much as blink as he answered me.

My eyes flickered to his lips as they parted, and my breath hung on his words.

"Awhile."

I sucked in my breath at his first admission, confirming what I already knew. There was something special about him, obviously, to have spoken to me, called to me...not to mention how cold his skin was.

"Okay, thank you for being honest with me."

He broke into a smirk and shook his head.

"That's it? You're grateful I was honest with you? Have you no sense of self-preservation to ask me just exactly what that means? To ask me what I am? To ask me why?"

"I don't fear you, Edward, and I don't care what you are. And 'why' is irrelevant."

Let him think on that for a while, I smugly thought.

He didn't disappoint. He pursed his lips and looked almost confused.

"Would you rather I was fearful of you?" I asked tersely.

He leaned forward again, looking a bit taken aback.

"Of course not," he sputtered, "I would never harm you, Isabella. It would hurt me if you feared me. I'm simply surprised that you aren't experiencing a normal, human reaction."

Human reaction. I filed that comment away for future reference. Another night, perhaps, but not tonight. Tonight, I was too tired for anything deeper than this. I would need my wits about me to keep up with any major revelations.

"Well, this is anything but normal Edward. I think we left normal at the doorway."

He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. His brow furrowed as he looked as though he were concentrating, and then he burst out laughing.

"What?" I had no idea that what I'd said would be humorous to him, but his laugh was infectious. I couldn't help but laugh with him. "What?" I asked again, as he calmed again.

"Uh, nothing, it's..." and he chuckled again, obviously amused.

It was then that I noticed how his eyes crinkled as he smiled widely. Even when he laughed, he was devastatingly handsome. I became distinctly aware of how difficult it was to think around him, especially when my body was making its own needs felt.

"Isabella, you look tired. How about tomorrow you ask me anything you wish, and tonight -"

"No" I interrupted, not wanting him to leave, not wanting to do anything but just look at him, sleep be damned.

"Isabella," he said firmly, standing from his chair.

My mouth went dry when he stood, with that tone of voice. It was arousing, to say the least. I scrunched down into my pillows, no longer sitting upright.

He stood next to the bed and gestured beside me.

"May I?" He was asking to sit beside me, on the bed. Oh God...

"Please." I was sure my dry mouth wasn't helping my voice any.

As he sat down beside me and his weight depressed the bed, I became painfully aware of the effect he was having on me. I was breathing harder, inconsistently. I had never had a man in my room before, let alone sitting next to me on my bed.

His lips turned up into a sexy half-smile as his eyes burned into mine.

"Would you like me to stay here with you while you sleep, so that you will know that I mean it when I say I'm not going anywhere?" His hands were resting on his thighs, but my eyes were flickering between his eyes and his hands, wondering what they would feel like on my body.

My gaze darted upward to his face, to those lips. My God, I had never wanted to be kissed so badly in my entire life. What would he think if he knew that I'd never even kissed a man before?

He was all I'd thought about for as long as I could remember. There had never been a desire for anyone else in school, not even out of curiosity.

He was all I thought about, what I anxiously awaited each day – the time when I would fall asleep and be in his presence, his voice washing over me, comforting me, completing me.

"Isabella?" His voice startled me, as I must have been completely ignoring whatever he'd just said to me.

"Yes?" My cheeks were burning, I could feel it. I hated when I blushed; it was impossible to suppress.

"Are you alright? You were far away from here for a moment." He looked curious, concerned even.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" I would have been embarrassed, had it not been for his amused expression. He had a way of distracting me from being distracted. Incredible.

"You are very tired, Isabella. You didn't want to go to sleep, but you need your rest. I asked if you would like me to stay here with you tonight. I will stay if you ask me to, but I will go if you'd like."

His eyes searched me, almost beseeching me to ask him to stay. It was amazing to me that he was as enamoured with me as I was with him.

"I don't want you to go. I feel like, if I close my eyes, you're going to disappear. I don't want to wake up and you be gone."

I watched as he brought his hand near mine, and ever so lightly, rubbed the side of my hand with his finger. He looked down at our hands, barely touching, and then back up again.

"I will never leave. I give you my word. I will always be here when you wake."

He sensed my reluctance still yet to close my eyes and give in to sleep, because he became more persuasive.

"Isabella, I don't have the strength to...stay away from you anymore." His gaze was intense, saying so much without saying anything aloud.

"Oh," was all I managed to say, completely speechless at his declaration.

His fingers continued to lightly brush against my hand, as his touch sent tingles down a nerve in my arm, passed throughout the length of my body, and ended with a distinct throbbing between my legs.

I shifted a bit in the bed, trying to shake the feelings he was awakening in my body. They were foreign to me, not having ever been interested in anyone but him, his voice, his presence.

Just Edward. It had only ever been Edward.

"Do you want me to stay?" His body was close enough to reach out and touch, and I knew he would let me. But something told me if I did that, there would be no stopping what would happen next. My inexperience was too much of an issue with me to even deal with that possibility tonight.

"Will you stay?" I asked, trying not to sound as desperate as I felt. It wasn't that I didn't believe him when he assured me he would be here when I woke each morning. I had just been waiting for so long for this moment, that it was immensely hard to let go of it for a few hours.

"I will stay. I'll sit right here in this chair, if you'd like, or I could stand somewhere else."

"Don't be silly, you wouldn't want to stand somewhere for hours. The chair would be much more comfortable."

Something about this amused him, and he merely replied, "I'll be fine."

He stood and pulled the chair even closer to the bed, so that when he sat back down, his knees touched the mattress.

"I will be right here, in this very place when you wake in the morning. You can trust me, Isabella. I won't do anything ungentlemanly."

It was my turn to look amused, probably to his confusion.

"I don't think that's a concern of mine. I'm glad you're staying."

He watched me with a softness in his expression as I fixed my pillows and snuggled under the covers, settling in for sleep.

My eyes stayed partly open as I let the warmth build under the covers, relaxing me and rendering me even closer to sleep. I silently met his gaze, feeling my lids growing heavy.

"Close your eyes, love." His voice was soft, just like in my dreams.

"Will you talk to me? Like you did before? I'd like to go to sleep to the sound of your voice."

"Of course. Now, close your eyes." He spoke gently, reverently, and I did as he asked. My eyes closed, and sleep seemed inevitable.

"When you were younger, I would sit here, in this very chair." His voice was low, calm, comforting. I kept my eyes closed, and let his voice carry me where it wanted.

"I would watch over you as you slept. Sometimes, you would have bad dreams. You would talk in your sleep, move around, and even reach your hand out.

"Those nights that you had a dream, I would take your hand. You would sigh, and your bad dream would go away. I was able to comfort you, and that made me happier than I had ever been."

I slipped my hand out from under the covers and let my arm lay over the edge of the bed. I opened my hand, stretching my fingers out.

I felt his cool hand envelop mine, and then the other wrap around, sandwiching my hand in his. A smile spread across my face, and I mumbled his name as I drifted off to sleep.