I don't own Twilight. If I did, I'd tell some people to shove it.

~ V. ~

Wednesday, July 1, 1931

Bella didn't show up on Monday until late in the afternoon. I'd almost given up hope that she'd come. I started worrying whether Alec had said something to her about the place he'd seen me in and our interaction. I fretted about what she might think of me for drinking at night, and not only hanging out a place like Aro's, but also being familiar with the owner of such an establishment.

I was such a fool for worrying about it.

By the time the clock in the reading room turned three, I almost wasn't expecting her anymore. She surprised me by sneaking up behind me with her shoes in her hand and covering my eyes with her soft, warm hands before whispering into my ear, "Guess who?"

I didn't tell her that I would've been able to distinguish the ring of her voice from a million other ones.

"You know I only have one friend in this town," I murmured, covering her hands with mine and pulling them away from my eyes.

"It's no fun to play with you." A small frown appeared on her face, and I wanted to wipe it away.

I held on to her hand as she sat down next to me. She played with my fingers, inspecting them carefully; it felt surreal but so good. "Hey, it's too hot outside and too quiet in here to talk," she said in a low voice, leaning into me while turning the palm of my hand up for her inspection. "What do you say we get out of here?"

"Sure, where did you want to go to?"

"I don't know. Such pretty hands and such long fingers," she breathed into my face. She looked down and traced the lines in my hand with her delicate fingers, unaware of the effect she had on me. Or maybe she did know exactly what she was doing; a playful gleam shone in her eyes. "Let's go to the stacks upstairs, and I'll read you your fortune. I'll tell you about all the pretty girls you're going to meet and the riches you'll find."

I smiled in contentment for a minute, hoping she'd tell me not about my future, but ours.

"Come," she said standing up, reaching for my hand again. I held her hand and she started guiding me out of the main reading hall, ushering me through a small door behind the circulation desk I had never took notice of before.

It was almost completely dark inside once the door shut behind me; a small glimmering lamp a distance away was the only light source. There were no windows. We were in the belly of the building, cloaked in silence and darkness, alone. Stacked up on either side of us were shelves lined with books, and ahead was a small corridor that wound through the maze of bookcases. The ceilings were lower than in the rest of the library making it feel closed in, almost intimate.

I was wondering how she knew about this place. I hadn't even known it existed and I spent more time in this library during the past year than she had, I was certain.

"What is this?"

"This is where all the books that are no longer current go. And some that still are, but that nobody wants to read. They stock them here, and list them in the catalogues on the reference desk." Letting go of my hand she walked down to the main path.

I followed her, as she turned on light switches along the way for tiny lamps, which only provided a dim glow. Between one of the shelves, I saw narrow steps leading up and down to different floors, presumably all stuffed with books. When we reached the end of the corridor, she turned to the right. A small table with a reading lamp and two leather chairs appeared in sight behind the last row of bookshelves.

She sat down, turned on the reading lamp, and I sat down across from her.

"Give me your hands," she requested with a small smile. Leaning with my elbows on the table, I hesitated. I wanted to feel her hands, but I didn't like the questions I knew would follow.

"Is that the career you're dreaming of? To be a fortune teller?" I joked and she wrinkled her nose. She grabbed my hands quickly, before I could withdraw them.

"Any more wise cracks like that, and I'll be forever disappointed in you and won't come here anymore." Her voice sounded haughty and serious, but the left corner of her mouth tugged up involuntarily into an almost smile.

"Okay. You got me. Anything to keep you coming here – even telling me a fortune I don't want to hear," I sighed in defeat.

"Smart decision. Now, let me take a closer look at those nice hands of yours." She cupped her small hands around mine and looked at them intently, a tiny frown line forming between her eyebrows. "You play the piano," she stated with a small smile on her face without looking up.

"Used to," I divulged, shifting nervously in my chair. I didn't want to talk about myself. I felt trapped.

"Mm, I'm sure you could still play if you wanted to. You are not from this town, or this part of the country."

"You don't need to look at my hands for that."

"You're right. You're from up North . . . East . . . but not Boston, I would recognize the accent. You grew up in a city though. Philadelphia?" she asked, looking up at me.

I smirked.

"I guess that means no."

"New York?"

I nodded and swallowed. "Good guess."

"Pfft, not a guess at all. It's all there in your hands. Plus, the tone of your voice helped a bit, and I can't picture you in the countryside or on a farm. So you came here to study medicine . . . but why here? You're intelligent and considering the amount of time you devote to your studies I'm sure your grades were decent enough for you to get accepted into an equally, if not more, reputable institutions back North. The scholarship is enticing, I guess, but again, I'm sure some university closer to home would have offered you one as well."

"It doesn't matter and has nothing to do with my future," I said. She didn't flinch, but continued to stare at me. I couldn't take the scrutiny of her gaze anymore. She wanted to know, and I didn't want to break down and tell. I made a reluctant effort to pull my hands away, but she held on tightly, seemingly anticipating my reaction.

"Your past will influence your future," she said with authority, tracing the lines on my palms again. I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the warm feeling that spread through me as she touched me. "So my guess is you were running away from something . . .what though?"

"Nothing. Nothing that matters," I muttered.

"Alec told me that he saw you last night –"

"Is that what this is about?" I yelled at her in anger, before continuing in a lower voice. "You think I was some bootlegging gangster in my former life, hiding here, enrolled at a university?" A loud, sarcastic laugh escaped me. "Let's get something straight. I don't owe you any explanation. If I had been bootlegger back up North, trust me, I'd have a whole lot more money."

I tore my hands away from hers. I knew I was being unfair, but I couldn't take the question and answer session about my life. I got up and was about to run out of there. I knew I'd be making possibly the biggest mistake of my life, but I couldn't stay there. I wanted to crawl out of my skin sitting there with her.

I don't want to be this version of myself and I don't want her to see me that way.

"Why are you so angry, Edward? I thought no such thing; Alec didn't tell me any specifics of where he ran into you, but from the sounds of it you were at some sort of gin mill. I don't care about that, and never in a million years would I figure you to be gangster."

Her words calmed me down, drew me back in. I turned around and saw tears waiting to spill.

"I'm sorry." I glanced up at the ceiling, trying to find the right words. "Look, my past is my past. I liked who I was back then, but that person is dead now. He's never coming back. And this, the man who is standing here now, is all that's left. It's not much, I know, but I was hoping it was enough . . ." My shoulders sank in resignation. My courage had left me, and with it, the last words of my sentence.

"Enough for what, Edward?" she asked with her chin raised.

"I don't want to fight with you, but I don't . . . I don't want to talk about my past." I slumped back down in the seat across from her. I couldn't leave her even if I tried.

"I promise, I won't prod again, cross my heart and hope to die!" she said with a smile. I smiled back, unsure of what to do. "For the record, Alec said he thought you were a decent man and he would . . . well . . . if you ever . . . I don't know . . . forget I said anything."

I'd never before heard her stutter or falter.

"Well, he seems like a nice guy himself, not that I know him all that well. It sounded like you were about to ask another question. Go ahead, ask," I said with a resigned sigh. I hoped she'd make good on her promise not to prod and that the question would be harmless.

"No, I don't want to ask, and it's not my role to ask. It's yours." She grinned, and a faint blush appeared on her cheeks.

For a second my heart skipped a beat, then it felt like it stopped, only to start beating again in rapid speed; my palms were suddenly sweaty and I couldn't look at her. I chuckled nervously and started pulling my hair, trying to figure out how to ask her…

"Bella, you are lovely girl, and in my previous life I would have come to your house and asked your parents –"

She held her hands up to stop me.

"Hold up, Edward. No parents, no family, nothing serious. Just you and me and maybe a movie show, I thought. Beside, you're not the old-fashioned type."

I didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

"I would love to take you to the movies sometime, Isabella . . . what's your last name?"

"Swan. Isabella Marie Swan."

"Isabella Marie Swan, would do me the honor of accompanying me on a date?"

"Silly, you didn't have to be that formal about it. You sounded like you were proposing marriage, while it's only a couple of hours at night outside of this dusty library. Not a lifetime! How does Sunday sound?" She leaned back in her chair, now laughing.

"I asked. Correct me if I'm wrong, but that's what you wanted right? So this Sunday it is. Where should I pick you up?"

"You are not suggesting picking me up from my aunt's house, are you?" She looked at me in horror. "That wouldn't be a good idea. We can meet at the main gate of campus if you like?"

My fingers start playing with the cuffs of my shirt as my eyes darted around the dark stacks and the light between us. I didn't know where to look. I didn't want to see her eyes for fear of seeing dismissal. Maybe she just wants to have fun; I'm an adventure to her and nothing more.

"Listen, Edward, you don't want to talk about your past, and there are certain things I cannot explain to you right now," she murmured, tugging at my fingers. I let go of my cuffs and folded her hands up in mine.

I glanced into my favorite brown eyes, hoping to see that I was more to her than some guy to pass the time while she is bored in this city. I couldn't decipher what I saw in her eyes. I pulled up her hands, and slowly brought my lips to her fingers and kissed them. She surprised me for the second time that day when she bent down and touched my fingers with her lips.

"I have to go now. I'll be gone all week, but I promise to be back on Sunday. How does four o'clock sound?" she asked, hurriedly getting up.

"Perfect."

I was happy, but then my mind wondered where she would be all week. I wanted to ask her, but I kept my mouth shut. It wasn't fair to ask, if I offered so little answers myself.

Reaching the door to the front hall to leave the dark, dusty and musky smelling stacks, I was tempted for a second to pull her back to me for a brief hug . . . maybe a kiss. But the moment was whisked away by the rays of bright sunlight entering through the crack of the door as she opened it. I watched her after she bade me a brief farewell; her dress of bright light yellow chiffon blended with the sunlight and ballooned around her knees as she skipped down the stairs.

Sunday I will see her again.

I ran to work after our meeting in the library and asked for a double shift the next day, so that I could have Sunday off. The head of the department wasn't happy, but he likes me, so he made an exception.

I am content now lying in my steaming hot room. I can be a patient man. For you Isabella Marie Swan, I will wait until the last breath leaves my lungs.

*Cheese* - Reviews make me smile. Even bad ones.