Title: You Found Me

Full Summary:Edward Masen has lived the life of a nomadic vampire, travelling with James and Victoria since he awoke as an immortal. His ability to read minds has had the unusual side effect of making him a vampire with a conscience. Despite the ridicule from his coven mates, he's confident he's making the best of his existence and doing what's morally right... until he stumbles upon a brown-eyed girl reading in a meadow in Forks. As he attempts to befriend her and learns more about the sleepy town of Forks, Edward finds there's a lot more to being a vampire than he ever thought possible.

Pairings: Canon

Rating: M, for language and future sexing.

POV: Bella

AN: And, we're introduced to Bella this chapter... Hope you all enjoy :) Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, alerted and favourited, you guys inspire me to continue. For anyone interested, I'm going to attempt to contribute weekly to Teaser Mondays on the Fictionators blog.

xx

"But, Dad-"

Charlie cut me off before I could even start to counter his unnecessary punishment. "Bella, I meant what I said. You're grounded. You knew I didn't like you kids riding around on those death traps, and you did it anyway. Billy's warned Jake as well. What would you do if one of you got injured? Remember when your class did blood typing last year? You had to be carried out of the classroom. Now imagine Jake was all bloodied up after he crashes one of those hunks of metal… what then? How would you be able to help him?"

I took a deep breath, careful to keep my voice level. In the past year and a half that I'd been living with Charlie, his fatherly overprotectiveness had grown by leaps and bounds. It was starting to become overbearing.

Considering I hadn't so much as seen the man for more than a few weeks each summer since I was two, until less than two years ago, it was a little ridiculous how protective he'd become. I wasn't accustomed to having any parental controls with Renee as my primary caregiver. I knew how to take care of myself just fine.

"I'm careful, Dad," I insisted calmly. "You know me. And Jake's like a son to you. You know we're not reckless. We keep under the speed limits and obey all traffic signs."

Charlie sighed, his moustache quivering. "That's not the point. The point is: motorcycles are dangerous, and I won't have you riding around on one. Those bikes were barely serviceable when–"

"They were," I interrupted. "They're not anymore. You know Jake is a great mechanic. You trusted him fix my truck, didn't you?"

"Of course," he relented, "but these bikes… they were scrap metal before the two of you got a hold of them. I –"

"And my truck wasn't?" I questioned.

Charlie continued as if I hadn't interrupted. "It's the machinery that I don't trust, not you."

I sniffed at the horrible parental line. It was just below 'because I said so,' in terms of overused, but otherwise meaningless lines from parents. "Then how come I'm the one grounded?" I muttered sarcastically.

Charlie's moustache tweaked in amusement as a smirk tugged at the corner of his lip. He quickly smoothed it into a neutral, "serious dad" expression. "Because I expressly asked you not to do something, and you did it anyway," he replied evenly.

"You call what you did asking me?" I retorted, irritated. "I thought you were just letting me how you felt, you know, making conversation? I didn't realize it was a warning. You didn't even look up from the TV when you brought it up!"

"Do we really need to get into this? The technicalities are irrelevant," he stated in the voice he reserved for his work as police chief. "I'm not rescinding the punishment. You're grounded. Two weeks." His voice softened marginally. "I like the kids from the rez, too, Bells, but maybe you should think of this as an opportunity to make friends with some of the kids at your school? You rely on Jake and his friends too often. You know, that little Alice Cullen–"

"Fine," I growled, "I'm grounded. I get it. I don't need your interference in my friendships, too."

Before Charlie could interrupt with another unneeded, "caring parent" line, I turned on my heel and stomped up the small, wooden staircase to my room. I wasn't usually one for tantrums, but Charlie was typically more of a strong and silent type. I wasn't used to intrusions into my life and his attempts to take care of me. I'd been fending for myself for 18 years.

I heard Charlie's footsteps begin to follow me for several steps before he wisely thought better of trying to talk to me, moody teenage daughter extraordinaire, and turned back around. A few moments later I heard the click of the TV being turned on, and then the obnoxious sounds of the crowd at some sporting event.

Silent Charlie. Much better. Back to the status quo.

I continued the march to my room, snatching the first book I came into contact with off my bookshelf, not even bothering to check the title. I headed back down the stairs, much more silently than on the way up.

Hoping that whatever sports event was playing on SportsCenter was keeping Charlie's attention diverted, I headed for the backdoor, exiting the house as quietly as someone who is as graceless as me could. The screen door closed behind me with an annoyingly loud thwack, just to spite me.

Not bothering to check if Charlie had heard, I crossed the yard and immediately set off down the well worn path to behind the house.

When I'd first moved back, Jake and I had discovered this awesome little clearing about half a mile beyond the tree line. Thankfully, it was close enough that even I, directionless as people came, couldn't get lost. I'd been there often enough that there was practically a trail trodden into the grass and fallen foliage. It was a place I went to sit, read, and otherwise clear my mind.

The trek to the clearing was uneventful. I only managed to trip on a tree root once, and suffered a few minor scratches from errant tree branches. It was worth it for the serenity and peace of mind the little meadow brought me. Sitting down in the long grass that spanned across the clearing, I could feel the tension that had gripped me since the argument with Charlie melt away.

The meadow was actually much more beautiful when it was sunny out, but in Forks those instances were few and far between. I frowned up at the large overcast skies, praying for a little glimpse of the sun I could see hiding shyly behind the clouds.

Crossing my legs, I propped open the book I'd snatched off my bookshelf, snorting at the collection I'd selected. Angela Carter. A satirical collection of fairytales, a good chunk of which were re-imaginings of Little Red Riding Hood. Jake and the guys from the rez had been calling me Little Red Riding Hood since I'd discovered most of my closest friends were werewolves.

I hadn't read these since sophomore year, back in Phoenix. The guys would probably get a kick out of this once I told them.

I flipped through the collection, settling on one of the Beauty and the Beast tales, immersing myself. I was snapped from my reading reverie by faint sounds of crashing and crunching in the distance. It sounded like several trees were careening to the forest floor in rapid succession. Far too many of them to be a natural occurrence.

My brow creased. Maybe some of the guys were back there playing around? It was a little far from the reservation, though. What would they be doing smashing trees around, anyway?

"Jake? Embry? Quil?" I called tentatively, feeling more than a little stupid. Would they hear me, even if they were there? They had amazing hearing in their wolf forms, but the noises sounded to be a good mile away.

No answer. Not that I had really been expecting one.

As abruptly as the strange noises had appeared, they faded and I was once again left to enjoy the tranquility of my little meadow. I sighed. It must have been the wind blowing loose the decayed branches of old trees, after all.

I returned to my book, quickly picking up where I had left off. I hadn't even reached the end of the page when another noise roused my attention. The leaves on a nearby tree rustled obnoxiously, yet the air around me remained perfectly still, not even the slightest breeze ruffling my thin knit sweater.

Probably a squirrel, I attempted to convince myself. I lifted my book, as if the mere collection of flimsy pages could protect me from whatever wild animal was lurking in the shadows. I bravely, or maybe stupidly, attempted to read the next lines, but my eyes refused to focus, paranoia griping all of my attention. The breeze abruptly reawakened, sending an eerie chill down my spine.

Then a thump.

My head shot up in alarm, the hair on my arms prickling. Instead of the wild animal I was expecting, I was met with the most beautiful boy I'd ever seen. I'm pretty sure my mouth fell open a little bit.

The beautiful boy rose from his crouching position, his eyes widening at the sight of me, as if I was the extraordinary one. Had he just jumped twenty feet from the branch above his head? How had he not broken something? He didn't look remotely injured, or even in pain. In fact, he looked perfect in altogether too many ways.

I felt my brow crease in wonder as I stared unabashedly. He stood shrouded mostly in shade, but one side of his body was turned slightly towards the sliver of sunlight that had managed to peek through the overbearing grey.

He was well-built, lean and tall, with bright eyes that gleamed at me, even from across the clearing. I couldn't make out their colour at a distance, but I imagined green. He seemed like he should have green eyes. A sparkling seafoam green, maybe.

His bronze hair captured the sunlight, reflecting it back like varnished metal. His features were sharp and masculine but not severe. The cut of his jaw-line verged on sinful. I could feel the heat rising in my face, embarrassed to be near a specimen of such perfection with my all around mediocrity.

Even his porcelain skin was flawless. All of these things were awe-inducing, but they weren't what held my attention. He was magnificent, yes… but was that… sparkling? Wherever the sun caressed his skin, the reflected light seemed almost prismatic, dappled with brilliant colours.

I blinked, and he was gone.

Hoping the beautiful mirage would reappear, I blinked again. No such luck. Was it possible to dream with your eyes open?

Unable to leave, hoping maybe he would return if I waited long enough, I sat in the meadow until the sun started to descend in the sky.

I didn't read a single word further in my book.

xx

The next day passed with mind-numbing slowness. I sustained myself throughout the day with daydreams of the beautiful boy from the meadow.

There was something about him that consumed me. I couldn't get him out of my head, not that I'd tried too hard. It wasn't even that he was beautiful – though he was – it was the mystery that surrounded him. Who was he? Where had he come from? Was he even real? Did anyone else know who he was? This town was small. How had I never met him?

I couldn't bear to ask. I liked thinking that he was mine alone.

I didn't know his name, so I'd taken to referring to him in my head as my beautiful boy. I blushed a little every time I thought of him as mine. I knew logically that I had no claim to him, but in that intense moment, when his eyes had bore into mine, he'd felt like mine, as if there was some otherworldly force holding us together.

Maybe I was just crazy. I didn't know he wasn't a figment of my overzealous imagination.

He appeared in my thoughts intermittently during class, without conscious thought on my part. One moment I was following along with Mr. Mason's class reading of Hamlet, engrossed in Elizabethan English, and the next thing I knew I was staring out the window at the lush green of the uncut grass behind the school wondering what my beautiful boy was doing.

When this had happened for the third time, Angela, my seatmate and one of the few friends I'd made at school since I'd relocated back to Forks, nudged me in the arm and shot me a questioning glance, probably wondering why I was being such a space cadet today. I was usually a fairly focused and efficient student.

I blushed furiously and shrugged, manufacturing a large fake yawn, suggesting that I was just tired. I was a terrible liar. Even if she didn't believe me, she didn't ask any further questions.

It was irrational, but I was unwilling to share my beautiful boy with anyone, even Angela.

I spent most of my lunch hour scouring various books in the library. Anything that would offer some rationalization for what I had seen the day prior. There was nothing. There was so such thing as a skin disorder that made one appear to shimmer, unless sweat counted. Mythology was a similar lack of help, as was my research on hallucinations. By the time lunch period came to an end, I was even more frustrated than before. I shut the book I was perusing forcefully, startling a couple of juniors at the next table.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of the last period of the day, I was relieved. I'd never felt that way before. I was one of the people who always enjoyed school and the process of learning. Today I just wanted to go home and get to my meadow.

The punishment Charlie had doled out the day before didn't register in my mind. I hadn't considered doing anything after school but returning to the meadow. I rushed home, as quickly as my rusty truck would allow. I didn't bother going inside. I shouldered my backpack and rounded the house, heading purposefully towards the gap in the tree line.

I peered up at the grey, overcast sky, mildly disappointed that I wouldn't get to see my beautiful boy in the sun. I'd take him however he came.

My pulse was racing, my heart thundering in my chest in anticipation. I glanced at my watch. It was shortly after four that he'd appeared yesterday; it was barely after three now. Maybe I was grasping at straws, hoping it would make a difference what time of day it was, but I couldn't help it. I needed to see him again. Better to be early than to miss him altogether.

The trees dispersed the closer I got to the clearing, my heart pounding more rapidly with each step. At this rate I'd burst by the time I made it to the meadow. I forced myself to take a deep breath and focus on not hyperventilating before carefully taking another step. I'd been so focused on my breathing that I hadn't paid attention to my footing, and careened over a protruding tree root, stumbling face first into the meadow.

"Way to make an entrance, Bella," I muttered to myself as I peered around me, anticipation ebbing into every corner of my body. It disappeared as quickly as it came.

He wasn't here.

I wasn't sure which emotion reigned supreme, relief that he hadn't witnessed my tumble or disappointment that he wasn't here. That wasn't true. I definitely knew which emotion triumphed. I sighed, berating myself for my optimism. At least it wasn't four yet. There was still time.

I pulled myself off the ground and folded myself into a cross-legged position in the centre of the meadow, carefully facing myself in the direction he'd come yesterday.

I unzipped my ancient navy Jansport bag, grimacing as the loud noise filled the air. If I hadn't already scared away every living thing in the vicinity by falling flat on my face, that would most certainly do it. I snatched my latest reading assignment from the mess of papers, and tried fruitlessly to get some work done.

I couldn't concentrate for the life of me. My eyes continually flicked to the tree nearest to where my beautiful boy had appeared, waiting, hoping that he'd be there.

After I'd checked my watch for the tenth time in so many minutes, I gave up pretending to do anything productive and stared openly at the tree, willing him to appear. My telekinetic powers must have been void or severely out of touch because nothing happened. Not even a leaf so much as fluttered.

By the time four o'clock rolled around, I had resolved to take things into my own hands. He'd come from that tree, yesterday, right? Maybe he was just shy?

Being uncharacteristically bold, I approached the tree purposefully and looked up. Not there. Though it was kind of hard to tell, with all those leaves…

Sighing deeply at what I was about to do, knowing it had the potential for disaster, I rolled up my sleeves and grabbed onto the branch nearest to the ground, and after several moments of awkward flailing, managed to hoist myself up onto it.

I grinned widely at my success and quickly set about shimmying further up the tree, taking extreme care. I'd made it six or seven feet off the ground, when disaster, or rather my omnipresent clumsiness, struck. My sneaker slipped on the damp bark, and I went tumbling to the ground. Thankfully, I managed to avoid hitting any branches on the way down. The grassy meadow was forgiving, so all I ended up with was a slightly sore behind and another helping of disappointment. So much for that.

From my splayed position on the ground, I stared up into the tree longingly, wishing I had my father's athletic ability rather than his awkwardness.

I was about to gather myself up when my skin erupted into prickles. My hair stood on end; just like I had the last time the beautiful boy had appeared. The feeling was uncanny; familiar and unfamiliar all at once. He was here, I could feel it. I glanced around optimistically, only to be met with the sting of frustration.

I pulled myself up, rubbing my skin, soothing the tingly feeling before proceeding to shakily stumble back to where I'd abandoned my backpack, to continue the wait.

As the sun lowered behind the horizon, I could feel my mood also plummet. The greyness of Forks got even greyer.

He wasn't coming.

So much for optimism.

Stupid optimism.

xx

I shuffled back home before the sun could set completely, more than a little disillusioned. I was so absorbed in my thoughts, I didn't register Charlie until his arms were already wrapped around my shoulders, gripping me tightly.

I looked at him in confusion; it wasn't like him to be so affectionate.

"Where the hell have you been?" he asked frantically. "I've been worried. I came home from work, found your truck and the place empty."

I shrugged remorsefully. "Sorry, Dad. I went out to the meadow to read and do my homework. I guess I lost track of time. I should have left a note."

"It's okay," he said gruffly.

I ducked my head guiltily, unable to resist adding a last "sorry."

"I, uh… I'm going to go call Billy… let him know you're home. I called him to see if you and Jake had run off, since you were grounded…"

I nodded mutely. I hadn't thought about Jake since yesterday, much less spoken to him. I hadn't even let him know I'd been grounded. I made a mental note to talk to him tomorrow. I was suddenly too tired to do anything but sleep now. Disappointment took a lot out of a girl.

Jake, homework, everything could wait until tomorrow.

I staggered up the stairs wordlessly, brushed my teeth and changed into my pajamas, before slipping into bed. I was asleep in moments, thoughts of my beautiful boy pervading even my dreams.