Edward had determined how he should go on by listening to what she expected of him. It turned out she expected very little. She had gone over his 'odd but kind' behaviour in her mind several times. Thoughts that he might be romantically interested in her were dismissed as quickly as they had appeared. She seemed to think it as unlikely as he did, but for very different reasons. She simply didn't see anything particularly desirable in herself. And for all she knew, she had thought, he was just as courteous to everyone. That would explain why everyone liked him so much...

Bah.

She didn't know why the others liked him because she'd never read that odious book written by that even more odious woman... whom he'd never met but wished to wreak bloody vengeance upon. That would serve her right. What better way for an author who makes up romantic fairy tales about vampires to meet her fate by one. Poetic justice. She'd ruined his life, he'd take hers. Turnabout being fair play.

But more to the point, Bella didn't realize she'd been singled out. Not yet. He didn't want to move in to quickly. He knew how her mind worked. She was alone; she had to watch out for herself because no one else would. She was as cautious and wary as a wild animal, difficult to approach. If you try to pin it down it lashes out or runs away. He knew the best way to tame something was to start out slow. You don't start out by walking up to it and try to pet it before you have its trust, it would flee and your chance would be gone. They'd had a very slow and smooth start, but it had picked up several notches as of yesterday. He had been too bold to drive her home, he saw that now, she was doubting, questioning, reasoning something that she didn't have the resources to comprehend. So she was confused.

Confused meant uncomfortable, and that was precisely the opposite of what he wanted her to be. He'd need to get her back in her comfort zone.

But I can't rush, either. If I step away completely that'll confuse her too.

That morning he had chosen the music they'd listen to very carefully. They were all songs he had heard her listen to with pleasure. This would soothe and intrigue her, but required no forward action on his part, nothing that could scare her off. He smiled a victorious smile. Who knew meticulous planning and manipulation could be so fulfilling?

She was sitting on the porch waiting when he drove up. He had sensed her nervousness earlier that morning. She hadn't been impatiently waiting, she just hadn't wanted him to have to go through the trouble of getting out of the car to knock on her door. What he found fascinating was that she had known he wouldn't have simply honked his horn for her. 'He's not the type.' How she could be so right about him and yet so astronomically wrong was... well... amusing. She'd nail down tiny aspects of his character, but the bulk of his nature completely eluded her. She was convinced that he was nice, nicer than most people she'd met, when the truth was that his intentions were so deliciously low, so deviously malevolent, there wasn't a man in her world who less merited the accolade.

He suppressed the chuckle only because she was watching him, but really did want to laugh out loud.

"Thanks again."

Is that all the woman ever said? Would she ever be expressing her thanks?

"Feel free to get sick whenever you like. So long as it allows me to absent myself from school, I'll be your chauffeur."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that again, but I appreciate the offer."

"And if I ever faint during the day, it's your job to charm Ms. Cobb," he joked.

"Is that likely?" she asked.

"Not at all," he said smiling warmly. "I just wanted you to feel like we were on an even keel."

"How thoughtful." He detected a bit of sarcasm with that one. Good.

The rest of the trip went exactly according to plan. Her reactions were just as he predicted. He was just giving himself a mental pat on the back when two girls sitting outside watched Bella get out of his car. The assumptions their adolescent minds leapt to were instantaneous, spiteful, rude, and all but marinated in envy. Edward wrinkled his nose as if their bitterness actually reached all the way down to taint their blood.

So as not to give the gossipy harridans anymore fuel for the fire, he gave her a nod in acknowledgment of the thanks she would predictably give him, again, and as farewell. He kept his mind with the girls to see what this would do and how it might disrupt Bella's mood, which he had taken pains to direct as would benefit him. They very well might undo all his fine work. Groundwork, he corrected.

Of several things Edward Cullen was absolutely certain. He knew that blood, be you human or vampire, was the key to existence and one of the few things actually worth fighting for. He knew that Time, was the most concrete and yet abstract concept of his life. And he knew that there weren't two things more dissimilar than how a woman thinks and how a woman acts.

They watched Bella approach with friendly smiles on their faces and vile machinations on their minds. Of course they didn't start off by immediately interrogating her. No, they pretended to be interested in her life, how she was progressing with that English paper, whether she planned to go to the boy's baseball game Friday, if she was feeling better. Yes, now they pretended to care.

She answered all of them with the ease of someone who has been hiding behind small talk her entire life. That is to say, masterfully. Edward smirked, she wasn't fooled at all though. She knew what the girl's were after.

"So did you get a new car?" one girl asked, indicating his silver Volvo. Of course she knew very well whose car that was...

"No, I don't think I could ever part with my Chevy," she said, and only Edward could tell that underneath the sarcasm and embarrassment about that dilapidated hunk of metal on four wheels, there were the pure tones of sincerest truth. She was actually attached to that disaster.

"Oh..." They waited for Bella to continue, which she eventually did, but not without reluctance.

"I got a ride today from someone else," she explained minimally, hoping that she'd be able to scrape by. No such luck.

"Really? From who?"

'Whom.' "Um... Edward Cullen... He's in our English class."

'As if we don't know who Edward Cullen is,' they thought. "Really? You have to spill everything! Are you like together?" 'I hate her so much right now.'

'Might as well put their minds at ease.' "No, nothing like that at all. He just happened to be around when I fainted on the way the nurse's office yesterday."

'And that explains why you were together this morning... how?'

"It was thought best that I go home for the rest of the day," Bella continued. He smirked at her cunning use of the passive, omitting that it had been he who had insisted she go home. "Apparently I didn't look well enough to drive myself. Edward was the only one around so he got stuck with the job. That's all there is to it." 'Close enough, anyway.' "Nothing exciting."

'Oh thank God. But still, he drove her home and picked her up again this morning? Her parents could have done that. There must be more. Does he like her? Why would he? God I hate her!'

"So like, what did you guys talk about?" she giggled conspiratorially, as if this were some fun secret game they were all enjoying.

"Nothing," she answered honestly. "He didn't speak a word the entire way. It was quiet." Bella remembered the absence of conversation fondly.

'Yes! He froze her out too just like everyone else. Guess it really was just she said it was. I knew he'd never go for her. I'm so better suited for him.'

'Maybe I should pretend to faint too...'

"Yeah, he's more of the strong silent type," one gushed.

"Is he?" Bella asked, not to Edward's mind, with any degree of sincerity.

"Totally. Just my type."

'But are you his type?' Bella asked. 'Does he have one? He seems uninterested in women. Maybe men? No, surely not...'

Glad that this hadn't set her back any, rather, it made her even more curious, he returned to their normal routine. No words. That day at lunch he simply returned to her the book with a nod of appreciation and left her to her thoughts. As he entered the English class room, Edward was once again overcome with the desire to ask Mr. Mathews for assigned seating. Biting resentment was something he didn't think he'd ever get used to. It was unpleasant to hear. He'd much rather hear gloomy reluctance directed at the person who sat next to him, for that would slowly ebb away with acceptance. But every day it was the same thing, their voices were as shrill in his mind as they were in real life, sometimes even more so.

.

Edward hated having to hold back in gym, but he did every day. Even though he avoided contact sports, it was clear through others that he was the best. For while it was possible to conceal his strength, agility, and speed, the fact that he didn't sweat, he didn't tire, his face never flushed with exhaustion escaped no ones notice. Sure he could stop and pretend to be out of breath, which he did when he could remember to, but there was no doubt in anyone's mind that Edward Cullen was an athletic titan. While they might despise and detest him outside of gym, he was always picked first for teams. He was no longer the boy they envied or hated, but an athlete they admired and aspired to be themselves. Their thoughts were simpler, less complicated, less rancorous during gym. It was a diluted version of how he felt on a hunt. That drive, that focus. Their minds were clear of other more pesky things. For a reluctant mind-reader, gym was the easiest part of the school day.

.

He checked on Bella's metal state as he was changing in the locker room back into his normal clothes. She was... crying. Hmm.

Crying?

He saw through her eyes the way she traced a long thin scratch across the side of her truck. Someone had keyed her Chevy. He'd seen people upset about such things before, a keyed car meant a new and expensive paint job, but the paint was already chipping on Bella's truck; rusty flakes of it would fall off every time she slammed her door. It wasn't the paint job that troubled her. She was crying because clearly someone disliked her so much to do this. 'Someone hates me and I don't know who or why. I don't know what I've done wrong, so how am I supposed to make it right again?'

More tears. She wasn't sobbing at all, it was just a slow trickle, one or two would leak our every few moments and she would hastily wipe them away.

He didn't consider himself a vain being, but he thought it safe to assume that someone had lashed out at her because of him. Word had circulated that he'd given her a ride to school. Even if the two girls from this morning weren't too worried, they had still spread the word. Any chance to show up their friends that they knew more about him than the others did they'd take.

He didn't know why, but he took the keying personally. He was the only around here allowed to target her. She didn't need anymore. That would only distract her away from him. She was his victim, no one else's.

Did he want to go to her? No, he decided, he'd let her be. As he walked to his own car he scanned the nearest minds around him, searching for who had done it, were they waiting, watching for her reaction?

Indeed she was. He felt Kacy's satisfaction start to mingle with guilt, though the former still far outweighed the latter. Then her mind reached the obvious conclusion: that keying Bella's car changed nothing at all, except make her a less desirable person. 'What if he found out I did it? He'd think the worst of me,' she thought with regret. 'I'm not a bad person. I'm not a bad person... Emily knows I did it, what if she tells?'

The next day Bella stepped into the Biology room nervously and took her seat, all too aware of the eyes that followed her. 'Why are they doing this? What have I done? Why do they hate me?'

Edward had a plan which he soon put into action. As she was standing in the lunch line she was accosted by several girls she knew, again, acting friendly to suit their needs, but not taking the time with unimportant questions first. Bella panicked, like a doe in headlights. She hated attention, hated being put on the spot. That was his cue.

"Ladies," he said smiling at all of them.

"Hi Edward," they all chorused back, in the same exact way as if they'd practiced it.

"Emily, you look lovely today." While the others were distracted he mouthed to Bella, 'Go.' She did so immediately, not looking back. But he lingered in her utterly grateful thoughts so as to more agreeably distract himself from the conversation he continued with the gaggle. He was careful to give Emily extra smiles and looks, shifting the jealousy away from Bella to a new target. He sat with them until them until they had forgotten their anger towards her completely, then he excused himself and left. They were sad to see him go so early, but happy that he had stayed at all.

'Oh my god, that bitch, she told him! She must have said how terrible she thought I was for keying Bella's car and then she took him herself. So much for friendship!'

' Will he sit here everyday?'

'His skin looks so smooth. Even close up it's flawless...'

He was smirking as he left. Bella wasn't reading or listening to music as usual. She was sitting on top of the table staring at her hands in her lap. She was chiding herself for being ridiculous and giving the matter of his recent behaviour too much scrutiny. 'Don't read into it. Just thank him and get over it.'

Edward laughed triumphantly to himself as he neared her. She was trying to fight off her attraction, how cute. How futile. He was designed to be attractive to his prey. Her active reluctance was as amusing as it was refreshing. It would make his success all the more delicious...

He composed his face, looking put-upon rather than greedy. Because that was how he felt now, like a miser about to count his coins, knowing there would be more there than the last time he checked. It didn't help his selfishness to see her smile shyly when she saw him, because that was a smile only he saw, the one that wasn't forced to stay in place, but fought to be kept away. He liked seeing her consistently lose that little battle around him. Reluctant smiles were more flattering than any other.

"Thank you," she said.

"Just taking one for the team," he remarked with a smirk. He went off to his tree and let her ponder that one.

'Team? We're a team? Oh stop it Bella it's just an expression. No reason to make things more than what they are.' There was a moment when her thoughts shifted from worded phrases to abstract longing. 'Ugh, am I really that desperate? No,' she thought firmly. 'Just because one person shows you kindness is no reason to turn weak. That's why you left, remember? No borrowing other people's strength... You aren't part of a team.'

Well that had been working until he spoke to her, she was reaching out to him, in her mind at least, but she'd shut him off again just because of word choice. She was, that very moment he sat there thoughtdropping, forcing him from her mind. Successfully. Honestly, the woman's mental control was more impressive than any other's he'd met.

She was back in her book and Edward couldn't find himself at all in her head.

That would have disappointed him except that he knew how much effort it was for her to keep those mental blocks standing. She blocked out a lot of things, he knew, and she'd become so well practiced with some that they no longer required much effort. In time his own wall might solidify like that. But she had moved away from her other troubles, nothing to remind her or hammer away at those walls. He on the other hand, saw her every day. She didn't have the strength to keep that up, surely. He'd see her crumble. Kindness seemed to be more effective than anything else. Generally his looks were the most difficult to resist. Kindness was harder.

Not only because it was contrary to nature but also that there weren't many opportunities. If he tried outright to be nice to her she'd shy away, and it wasn't likely she'd conveniently suffer from another one of those fainting spells. Unless she saw blood. Well, that could be arranged.

He had to swallow down the venom that flowed into his mouth at the thought. No, he'd better not use that route again. Relying on the cattiness of her classmates was another option, like today, but that would probably cause more problems for both of them in the long run.

Several ideas of sabotage crossed his mind. One quick swipe under the hood of that Chevy of hers and he'd have an excuse to offer her a ride home again. Jam her locker so it wouldn't open and then pry it open for her later. He couldn't look like he was trying to be nice either, because that would set up the walls again. He'd have to manufacture reasons to do offhandedly chivalrous things (which he didn't know if that was pathetic or not) or he'd have to wait around for the opportunities, which would probably never come.

Or so he thought. Apparently he and Chance got along better than he'd previously believed, for she seemed to want to cooperate with his scheme and provided him with an opportunity he hadn't considered. Pity he ruined it.

It was one morning two weeks later, the bell had rung to signal the start of the day and she hadn't arrived yet. He knew she was running late, he'd already checked on her that morning. He sat in his car, planning to finish listening to the song before he followed everyone else in. He could hear her coming long before he could see. After pulling that rusty red tank of hers cautiously into a spot, she slammed the gear shift into park, yanked on the brake and jumped out to hurry towards the school buildings. It was then that someone else, also running late, sped into the parking lot, hit a slick spot and lost control of the vehicle. It skidded sideways along the asphalt directly towards her. It took longer for his car door to unlock and open than it did for him get to her. The minivan was four feet away when Edward dove towards her, tackling her out of the way with a hard smack. Or had that been a crack?

His intentions had been entirely good; he had put his hand out to stop her head from crashing into the pavement, only to have it smack against his rock hard hand instead. He winced at the sound and saw her eyes roll back into her head.

He hated himself in that moment, hated his stupid stone-like body. Now that he thought about it, she'd probably be bruised where he'd tackled her. He'd be like a battering ram to a human; he wasn't some equally soft squishy sack of blood and brittle bones. They could run into each other and their mutual padding would soften a collision.

"Bella? Bella!" he said frantically. Her eyes didn't open.

Ages later, it seemed, the minivan finally came to a halt, having caromed against Bella's truck and the curb. Mr. Mathews stumbled from his car and spied the pair of them on the ground.

'Oh god no, I didn't hit her. I saw her, thought I was going to but I didn't feel it. Was I wrong? Oh please let them be okay.'

He ran up to them, terrified. "Oh my god," he repeated.

Edward explained that she hadn't been hit by the car, but she was injured. Mathews began fumbling for his phone to call for an ambulance when Edward stopped him.

"I'll take her to the hospital," Edward said. "I can have her there before an ambulance could get all the way here." He was certain of that.

"No, we need to call for help."

It was in everyone's interest to avoid attention. Bella hated to be in the spotlight, it was downright dangerous for Edward, and Mr. Mathews could lose his job, which he pointed out.

A momentary struggle showed on the man's face as he considered this. In the end and with great amounts of guilt, he allowed Edward to carry her to his car, in which Clair de Lune was still playing. Of course he hadn't bothered to turn off the car before he got out.

An hour later he had called the school, having the secretary put him through to Mathew's office. The teacher didn't answer. He left a message and went back to his brooding.

He'd broken her collar bone and given her a concussion. He squeezed his eyes shut and hid his face in his hands. This wouldn't have happened if he had been human too. What a wretched hero he was.

Because you're not meant to be a hero. You're the other guy.

Of course he knew that but even 'the other guys' know better than to break things they want for later. Edward shook his head, Bella was wondering where he was. He'd promised her he'd come back after he called the school.

He thought he'd go mad with the amount of thanks she gave him. Her mind, concussed as she was, wasn't functioning as it ought. She didn't even seem to understand that her injuries were his fault.

"Will you stop thanking me for one minute and let me apologize!" he yelled angrily. Actually he hadn't meant to say it at all, much less so loudly.

"Apologize? For what?"

"For this," he said indicating her hospital bed.

"Yes, because I'd so much rather be a bloody smear on the pavement."

Edward groaned for too many reasons to go into at that moment. "In any case, I'm sorry for hurting you."

"Alright I forgive you," she said, sounding amused. 'I don't believe this. He saved my life, and then apologizes... How am I ever supposed to make it to him now?'

"And I wanted to thank you again."

"You've thanked me enough."

There was a silence in the room that neither of them heard. Her head was buzzing with thought and pain that Edward could only minutely understand. It was odd to think that she could feel pain and yet he couldn't. It seemed... unfair, in a way. 'What would I have said anyway? Thanks for not calling an ambulance? He'd think I was being sarcastic. But they are well over $1,000, it took me forever to pay off the last ones...'

Did she make it a habit of getting seriously injured? Her mind didn't show him any of this, just the extra shifts of work she'd done and staring woefully at bills.

'His face, he's upset. He probably wants to leave but won't because I don't have any other way of getting home. I could tell him to go, and call Jacob later. He'd come get me.'

"Are you alright?" she asked hesitantly.

"I'm fine. You broke my fall, as you know." He didn't mean to sound so petulant.

"You can go, I can call someone for a ride home. You don't have to waste time just sitting here with me; I don't want to monopolize your day."

"Too late for that."

A nurse came in to check her vitals and to wake her up if she had been asleep. She hadn't been, obviously and after asking an obligatory question (who's the president) she left again.

Neither spoke.

'Usually silence with him is so comfortable. Not now though.' Still, she didn't say anything, for fear of upsetting him more.

"Sorry I'm being so rude. I'm just worried," he told her, trying to give her a reassuring smile. He could sense the melee of emotions caused in her at that statement so he rose. "Hungry? Thirsty? I'm going to go get something."

"I'm fine," she answered mechanically. He nodded and left, giving her time to herself. When he wasn't there directing the conversation, distracting her, she found it difficult to focus, her thoughts were blurry and ran together. Mostly she couldn't think of much other than pain. She fell asleep soon after he'd left.

Mr. Mathews came in late that afternoon to visit her. She was all smiles and politeness, feigning that she didn't feel bad at all. She did her best to make him feel less guilty but she didn't succeed. Edward was glad for that, the man deserved to feel guilty. The nurse came in during the visit and explained, "Because she lost consciousness we're going to keep her here overnight for observation. She can leave tomorrow, but should have an adult there to monitor her, wake her up every hour for another day, makes sure she gets plenty of rest and not to strain herself."

Bella's mood plummeted and a panic started to slowly suffuse within her chest. 'I don't have an adult to watch over me.'

"You live alone though, don't you Isabella?" Mathews asked concernedly, looking between the girl and the nurse.

"Yes," she admitted hanging her head. She felt she was making things more difficult, she couldn't impose on anyone to stay with her, and she shuddered at the idea of having to pay for another night in the hospital, the bill would already be painfully expensive.

"I'll stay with her," Edward offered, then wished he could take back the offer. He was certain there was nothing more foolish or counterproductive to his plan. He should, therefore, have been relieved when both the nurse and Mathews looked at him skeptically, but instead their complete lack of confidence in him made him resentful. He could hear their thoughts, he's just a boy, it's inappropriate.

I'm old enough to be your great grandfather, he thought. And I have two medical degrees; I think I can handle a little concussion watch.

"Unless either of you has a better idea," he added archly. Sometimes acting like a 17 year old was trying. Having obtained a century of knowledge was a difficult thing to hide. But, because he was perpetually frozen at 17, had less of a soul, he still didn't feel completely like an adult. He assumed that was because maturity comes with the understanding of mortality, which he didn't have. He didn't have any reason to be cautious. Sure he had a job, paid bills, but he had no responsibilities to tie him down. Existence for a vampire was about the feed. Which meant it was about that rush, that pleasure high. His existence was about gratification, the gratification only warm blood could bring.

Meanwhile Mathews was thinking, 'Edward is responsible, he lives on his own as well. He won't take advantage of the situation, he's not interested in girls. He just has a strong sense of duty.'

The nurse on the other hand was thinking, 'Boy's got it bad.'

He repressed the urge to argue the point, seeing as she hadn't actually made it. It had been merely a polite impulse, soon regretted. He would make her uncomfortable, being there through the night. He wanted her to warm to him slowly, not be awkwardly mashed together. He had another year, he didn't want to rush things, scare her off. Those walls against him would be stronger than ever. Their sudden close proximity would make her even more resistant. Of course, he knew that she secretly longed for—if not specifically him—someone to watch over her, despite her own maternal attitude. But regardless of this desire she kept people at a distance. She seemed an expert in keeping people away.

He had planned to slowly slip in under her radar, but that was impossible now.

"It's your decision," the nursed informed Bella.

'No. No, I've been nothing but a burden to him from the start. He just offered out of politeness, I couldn't impose on an insincere gesture. But what other choices do I have? I could ring Jake and his dad; ask them to come over... And impose on two people I care about? I could just tell these people I have friends that would look after me, and then I wouldn't have to actually bother anyone.'

Well that was a singularly stupididea, Edward thought angrily. Didn't she realize that she had a type three concussion? That there was a reason people in her condition had to be watched and awoken every hour? The girl's constant desire to not be a bother had always been slightly annoying, but when her notions carried her into the realm of stupidity, the annoyance grew nearer to anger.

"Keep in mind that staying by yourself isn't an option," he told her pointedly, lowering his gaze at her that made the teacher in the room envious. Mathews never managed to look so imperious and intimidating. He'd give anything to have such a severe no nonsense stare.

'Was it that obvious that's what I was thinking?' she thought forlornly.

"I can't ask you to stay with me," she told him.

"You didn't," he pointed out. "I offered."

"Why?"

"Because," he answered. He was about to continue with an explanation but decided that the one word was enough.

And thus the matter was unsteadily concluded.

.

She wasn't comfortable with him staying in her hospital room with her, and yet she was uneasy when he left. This left him rather frustratedly torn. There was no pleasing the woman.

In the end, he found the best thing to do was to pretend to be asleep so she'd stop preoccupying herself with the correct way to act. Not that she was often awake herself. She generally fell back asleep a few minutes after the nurse left. At one in the morning the shift changed and a different woman walked in, Edward was conveniently still pretending to be asleep so he wouldn't be forced to make mutually awkward and unwanted conversation.

'Daisy was right, such a beautiful boy. That's one lucky girl, concussion and clavicle notwithstanding,' she thought, looking over Bella's chart. Edward liked the new nurse, not many people used words like 'notwithstanding' vocally or mentally.

She gently woke Bella up, and asked her another one of those questions on the list to make sure the patient is still aware. Edward, still feigning sleep, could still see through the nurse's thoughts that Bella was looking nervously at him in the corner.

"He shouldn't be here," she said with a frown. "He should be at home, in bed."

"He's just worried, sweety. We get significant others staying with their partners all the time. Of course he'd want to stay." His preference for the woman turned suddenly and distinctly sour. That would put Bella off more than anything.

"That would be some excuse, but we just met." 'A few months ago.' "He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and is wrapped up in another one of my misadventures."

He'd never heard her say so many words at one time before. Not aloud anyway. Though it was with mixed feelings that she discarded the nurse's comments so easily and without consideration.

"Or right place in the right time," the nurse pointed out. "You were vey lucky."

That Edward had rescued her from a car that had been swerving fatally at her hadn't been in the medical chart, but had been the talk of the coffee room among the nurses of the uneventful hospital. Because they were young and beautiful, it was automatically considered romantic. If he looked his 112 years, and it was known that he'd saved from being killed then only so that he could have that pleasure for himself later, he doubted they'd be so maudlin.

The next morning he drove her back to her house and did his best to be distant and helpful at the same time, not an easy a task as it sounds, especially with her insistence that he didn't have to be so kind.

"I'm not being nice out of pity or condescension, as you seem to think," he told her as he pulled into her driveway. "It might have something to do with guilt for giving you a concussion in the first place" And I plan on thoroughly devouring you later. "I feel responsible. Even if you don't blame me allow me this... atonement, for my own sake, not yours," he added, knowing that she'd be more willing to acquiesce to anything if it were for other people's benefit rather than her own. "I'm sure you can understand needing peace of mind."

If this were any other girl they'd be jumping at the opportunity, yet she persistently resists. Then again, she wouldn't be much of a project if she were easily accomplished.

"You're missing class." She told him once he'd opened her door.

"What young school boy doesn't enjoy absenting himself from school?"

"I don't know, what young school boy uses phrases like 'young school boy' and 'absenting himself'? That's the second time you've said that. You speak like my grandfather."

"Probably more like your great-grandfather," he said amusedly, enjoying his own personal joke. He took her keys from her and unlocked the front door, opened it and stood back so she could go in first.

The house was cold, not just in terms of the readings of the thermostat but it seemed rather lifeless, like his own apartment. He felt at home.

"I, uh... don't usually have guests. But you're welcome to the TV, anything you find in the fridge."

He nodded.

He kept respectfully out of her head as she took a bath, only checking in on her once she'd returned to her bedroom. She was having much difficulty getting into her sleep clothes, but he made no move to help her.

Sorry, you're on your own.

Still, he could sense through her mental hissing that she was in great pain, and once he'd determined she was decent enough, he brought her the recommended dose of pain killers and told her to try and sleep. He'd left her alone after that, sitting downstairs flicking through channels to pass the time before he had to go upstairs again. He knew she wasn't actually sleeping, but reading. She shouldn't have been but he let it slide. At least she had the decency to hide it under the covers when he came back to check on her.

It was nearing evening when she voiced the concern she had been putting off since lunch.

"How are you supposed to sleep if you have to wake me every hour?

"It's alright, I don't sleep." The was a heavy moment of silence after that, in which Edward tried to control his face to hide how appalled he was for blurting out the truth like that.

"But you did last night."

"Faking it."

She looked at him dubiously so he proceeded to recite with precision every conversation she'd had with both nurses, even the bit about the 'significant others'.

"You heard that?"

"No, I'm just really good at this game," he replied sarcastically.

"You really don't sleep?"

He shook his head.

"So you're an insomniac?"

"Of sorts."

"What will you do then? At night."

"Same things I do during the day." Well, generally during the day I don't slip away to kill one of your fleshy fellow humans, unless of course it's a really good day. "I'll read. You do have books, I presume?" he asked with a knowing smile, quirking one eyebrow. He turned around and finally inspected the bookshelves in her room. Something he'd been wanting to do. He grabbed a collection of Oscar Wilde and turned to leave. Stopping at the door he faced her and giving her a light smirk said, "Rest well."

It wasn't much work to wake her in the night. She'd rouse, answer his question, then fall back asleep. It wasn't until around two in the morning that when he came to check on her she asked "Do I have a fever?"

"Where can I find a thermometer?"

She took him by the sleeve and pressed his hand to her forehead and sighed. "That feels good. Your hand is so cool."

He stood there, blinking. He could have stopped her from doing that, it wasn't as if the weakling had overpowered him, or had moved to quickly and caught him unawares. So why had he just let her take his hand like that? He supposed that with this defenseless creature at his mercy he had simply let down his guard. Luckily she didn't seem frightened or concerned by his abnormal coolness, only grateful. Not surprising, she was rather warm, even for a human. And she was severely concussed.

He got no coherent words from her thoughts after that, only blurry appreciation for his relieving cold hands. Even that thought faded as she began to fall asleep again. Once her thoughts had fully dropped away he removed his hand. Her forehead wrinkled in discomfort.

Well he couldn't very well sit there the entire night to be her personal ice pack.

Actually, there was no reason he couldn't.

Except in the morning she'd be appalled at his 'sacrifice.'

And he was getting no giggles from just sitting there watching her sleep either.

But now that he thought about it, he'd never really watched a human sleep before, not to remember anyway. It was oddly fascinating... somehow. Thrilling actually, though he couldn't think why.

Actually it did make sense. This was the time when humans were at their most vulnerable. Not that they weren't already easy enough to take down, but it was as if, in this state, they were almost asking to be taken. He couldn't remember being human very well, but he couldn't imagine that he'd been so foolish as to spend hours of every day in this state of vulnerability, anything could happen and yet the sleeper would be completely defenseless, powerless to stop it. And humans all went to sleep at the same time. One would think, if they had any sense, that they would spread out their sleeping schedules so that they wouldn't all be so helplessly unconscious all at the same time. Someone should stay awake and be lookout. Had they no sense of self preservation? Did they really have that much trust in the world that they would close their eyes for eight hours, assuming that they'd be safe? Foolish notion. They weren't safe, not with his kind around.

Not that any amount of wakeful humans could protect themselves from him if he'd made up his mind to kill them... But it was the principle of the thing. Sleeping was just a remarkably stupid thing to do.

And yet he couldn't stop watching her do it. Her vulnerability at this moment made her all the more appealing. Knowing that he could take her now but was restraining himself was a sort of sick pleasure. Her feverish skin warmed his hands, both of them for he'd placed the other on the side of her face. It was an unfamiliar sensation outside from feeding. That was usually the only time he felt a human's warmth... when he felt it drain away.

Smiling, he leaned in toward her, putting his face into her neck. His nostrils flared as he took in her scent.

Enjoying his sick pleasure.

A/N: Is this too dull? Too slow? Compared to EOM this world is a bit boring... a bit too high school. Should I continue or no?