Author's Note: So, I am officially a graduate from high school. Yeah, not as awesome as you would think. I guess it's cool since I'm leaving all the people I can't stand behind but it's still kind of scary. So, here I am, writing this next chapter when I should be getting ready for my party. However, I need something to keep my mind off the fact that Breaking Dawn will be out shortly and I'm totally worried about what's going to happen. Rather than bore you with those details now when I'm sure you are telling me to wrap it up and get on with it, I'll tell you all about it in a later chapter. I'm sure that doesn't make sense now but what does? Anyway, that's enough of my rambling! Enjoy Chapter III.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. It all belongs to Stephenie Meyer. I could never claim the world and characters she has created. I am just having a little bit of fun with them. However, should she like to hand over Edward and his silver Volvo, I would certainly not object!


Chapter III: Inspiration

The next month and a half passed without great consequence for any party. Jessica continued to stalk Edward and secretly wish a piano would fall on Isabella's head. Mary Alice ran around with her usual flare and mouthed off without abandon. Isabella and Edward respected her father's wishes and did not speak with one another. They avoided each other with obvious difficulty, due in part to their desire to be together and the lack of a great crowd at Bram Stoker Academy.

The couple, while obeying orders, did not talk but they shared many other moments together. Glances and shy smiles would be exchanged from across a room before their attention was commanded elsewhere. Edward was even certain that she took to standing outside the music room some days during lunch. He would play for her, eager to feel some kind of connection with her.

As for his music, a month and a half did nothing to further stimulate his writing ability. In fact, the desire to not even play a note when Isabella was not around remained. He just could not concentrate on anything. His original was officially on a stand still. Personally, he felt that it was even worse than writing five-year-old rubbish. The slump that he was currently facing reflected in his attitude as well. Mary Alice was quick to comment on his lack of wit or general rowdiness in conversation. She was missing her best friend, he knew that. However, there was nothing her could do that would get him to perk up.

Inwardly, he knew the problem. It was all too clear. He knew that his problem was a little over five feet tall with long, brown hair, chocolate eyes, a slim figure, a musical and heavenly laugh, and a certain awkward quality. He knew that it was because of her that he could not play, let alone write, music anymore. Rather, it was because of the silence that engulfed them that was the cause. Either way, it was not something that could be easily repaired, especially with a tough and difficult obstacle in the way.

In all honesty, Edward could care less about abiding by Chief Swan's rules. It would not be the first time he disobeyed the quick tempered man. However, since Isabella was involved, he felt that it was best for her not to toy with him. It seemed to him that Isabella was already in hot water with her father, particularly because of his own doing. With her interests at heart, it was better for him to keep his distance. Moreover, if he ever wanted to have a chance with the fair maiden, it was better to tolerate Swan's rules for the time being and hope that one day in the near future he would have his chance in the sun.

This was the mantra that Edward repeated in his already clouded mind over and over whenever he would lay eyes on the object of his affections. Whenever she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, tripped over her own two feet, forced a smile Michael's way, or simply looked at him, he would remember that it was for her own good. Or rather, he tried to convince himself of the fact.

"Good morning, Junior!" a voice called through the loud halls of Stoker, prying Edward's attention away from a retreating Miss Swan. He turned to look at Mary Alice who was skipping towards him, catching a few eyes in the process. She smiled brightly at him as she stopped. "How are you this fine morning?"

Edward shrugged. He looked around the hallway before replying, "Oh, fine, I suppose. Yourself?"

Mary Alice sighed. She stomped her foot, causing Edward to look her directly in the eye. "I'm rather terrible, thanks for asking! I was hoping for a nice round of snotty conversation but I guess since my best friend is officially a wallflower, I'll have to find entertainment elsewhere! Maybe Jessica will be of some assistance. Sure, her comments are usually for the kill rather than the enjoyment but it will have to do! I've been bored out of my mind for two straight months…." She started to walk off down the hall, mumbling under her breath as she went.

"Brandon!" he yelled after her, running to catch up.

"What now?" she asked, folding her arms over her chest. "Give me a reason why I should give you the time of day. I haven't had the pleasure from you for the past two months." But she smiled lightly, obviously playing around.

"A month and a half actually," Edward said, smiling back at her.

"Oh, well, that makes all the difference, doesn't it?" she played back, shoving his shoulder roughly.

He laughed. "Of course. A best friend only ignores one for a month and three weeks. After that, they're beyond reconciling."

"Oh," Mary Alice said, a bright smile back on her pleasant face. "Well then you found me just in time, huh?" She laughed and started walking to class.

"Yeah, I guess I did." He walked with her in silence that was, for the first time in a month and a half, compatible. "So, next Saturday, you and me, our special place? I'm thinking the usual havoc that we wreak?"

She laughed, nodding her head as she did so. "Sure, why not? I haven't talked to Chief Swan in a while." A moment after the words crossed her lips, she looked over at Edward. He knew that she was expecting to see some hint of depression on his face. However, for some reason, none came. Maybe it was because he was back to being his old self with his best friend. Maybe it was because he knew that he could no longer dwell on things that he could not control if he did not want to step up to the plate and take a chance. Or maybe, without knowing it, he could sense that things were about to brighten up considerably.

"Yes," he replied, eager to get back to their banter that he missed out on for too long. "Both of us have been deprived of that particular pleasure." He started to laugh, signaling that it was okay for her to do the same. She laughed as well, causing many heads to turn her way once more.

"So, what else is new?" Edward asked as they reached the door to her first class. They still had a few minutes before class would start and he was impatient to get back on the same page.

Mary Alice shrugged and looked around the hallway. Edward immediately knew that something was up. She looked guilty, like she was hiding something. He had missed something big, of that he was sure. He did not need to read her mind to know that much.

"I had a rather…interesting vision. Very vivid. I've never had one that clear before." She seemed worried but at the same time oddly exhilarated. He knew that she thought that these "powers" of hers were getting stronger. She was excited by that. Usually, she would get feelings or little glimpses of images that she would piece together later with other information that she gathered.

"And?" Edward prompted. He kept his voice low, hoping to avoid any eavesdroppers. Like him, Mary Alice had never told anyone about her special gifts besides Edward.

"It was of a man. About our age, I believe. Only, he seemed much older, in the mental sense. Like…he had seen it all. Very cynical. He was oddly beautiful, like it could not be possible to look like that. And his eyes! Oh, those stood out most of all. They were red, Edward! Red! Like blood. And he seemed to just be roaming around aimlessly. Like he was looking for something but he didn't know what. And, the odd thing is, I felt that I had to help him." She took a deep breath and looked at the floor before looking back up at her companion.

"I know that you must think that this was just some elaborate dream. It isn't like one of the visions I've described before. But I know that I wasn't sleeping. This was completely different. I felt like I was connected with him somehow. It was like…well, like when I looked at Dr. Cullen. I know that it seems odd and you must think I'm crazy but I think that somehow they are connected. Didn't you feel something that you couldn't place when you saw him?"

Edward sighed, just staring at her. It was a lot to take in. While he did believe her, in the same sense that he believed her visions, he felt that she was reading too much into it. "I suppose there is something…different about Dr. Cullen but…. In what way do you think he was connected with Beautiful Vision Man?"

Mary Alice held back a laugh, trying to keep the seriousness of the matter intact. "I mean that they were similar. Different from everyone else. But, at the same time, not. Like me and you and even Isabella, possibly, had some kind of connection with them. Like a past life kind of deal. Or maybe future. I may have been thinking about this too much though. Haven't had much to do…." She looked around her again. "But, the thing is, I felt that they weren't exactly…human." She cringed, waiting for Edward to break out into laughter.

But Edward did not smile. Not just because he knew that she was afraid he would make fun of her but because he understood perfectly where she was coming from. It made sense in some odd, out-of-this-world kind of way. He knew that Dr. Cullen was different just from looking at him. His thoughts were more developed and challenging to sift through that many men twice his age. It seemed as though there was more going on his mind than most people had to deal with.

"I'm not saying that I don't believe you, Mary Alice," he began, keeping his voice lower than before. "However, I think that, for the time being, that it just needs to be dropped. Maybe it was some kind of weird coincidence or something. Just don't go around…looking for trouble."

Mary Alice laughed, as she turned to walk into her class room. "Well, you know that I'll still obsess over it. And besides, what's life without any trouble?"

"Uh…a comfortable one?"

"Oh, who wants that?" With one last laugh, she walked in the door to her class, her mind preoccupied with whether or not the homework assignment that she did not complete from the night before would be checked.

It would.

He spent the rest of the first half of his day mindlessly wondering about what Mary Alice had said about Dr. Cullen. The man was unusual, he would certainly give her that. But as to not being human…. But then Edward would be plagued with the memory that Mary Alice was almost never wrong. So, assuming that she could be right, in some bizarre universe, what could Dr. Cullen be? The possibilities were endless as well as hilarious. At least they kept his mind at bay from other topics that would otherwise try to bring him back to the hole he had been living in for the past few months.

As per usual, when lunch came around, Edward retreated to the music room. While the piano seemed to hold no passion for him at the moment, the solitude that came with it was relaxing. That and he had a feeling that he would be rewarded with Miss Isabella Swan's presence. It seemed that if he could not be near her physically then through music would be enough.

However, he was not so lucky. He spent the lunch period sitting at the old, tired piano, waiting to feel Isabella sitting outside the door. He looked out the window opposite of him, where the snow was melting off the ground and tree branches. The sun was just able to find its way through the gray clouds of late February. No cars could be heard passing on the road that was about a hundred feet away from the school. Everything was silent, particularly the black and white keys that seemed to be winking up at him in the artificial light.

He sighed, aware that this depression and distance from his music was not normal in the least. It truly made no sense and was really starting to get to him. He needed to play but he just could not bring himself to think of the music. The music led to thinking of Isabella and her own musical quality. It was infuriating that one single person could throw him so off kilter. She may look and sound like an angel, but Edward was beginning to believe that she was a devil in disguise.

When the lunch period was over, he collected his things and made his way down the hall towards the Biology lab. Today, they would be starting dissection but Edward was completely sure that Mr. Marks could even make that subject boring. Besides, if he had to spend the class watching Newton make blatant passes at Miss Isabella, he might just lose his already crazy mind.

He walked into the room, grabbed an apron, goggles, and gloves off the table by the door and made his way to his table in the back of the room. He deposited all of his books unceremoniously on the floor and started to prepare himself for the class ahead of him. They would be dissecting frogs for the next few days and he was certain that his little lab partner next him would not be able to handle a sharp utensil even if he wanted to. It would be all up to him…as usual.

He was already prepared with the necessary equipment when Isabella walked in with her love sick puppy Newton at her heels. She walked over to their table with obvious carefulness due to the extra materials in her hands. She set all of her stuff on the table as Michael started to talk her ear off. His nose was raised high in the air as he looked about the room. The month and a half that had passed had done nothing to lessen the pride that Newton felt when he was in the presence of Miss Isabella Swan. Isabella herself seemed to choose to humor him and smiled when it seemed required. Newton ate it up like the bait it was and continued on, not realizing that she was barely even paying attention. He was simply too smug and self-confident to pay attention. If he did, he would have noticed that she did not seem comfortable in the least. And while Edward could not read her like he could everyone else, he was sure that it was not just due to her close proximity with Newton.

Quiet finally came when Mr. Marks entered the classroom. He placed his briefcase on his desk before slowly turning to the class. He held up a sheet of paper with little writing on it. Everyone looked at it with curiosity for the writing was too illegible to make out from their distance.

"As you know," Mr. Marks began, his droll filling up the room. "We will begin our dissection unit today. You all should have completed the dissection packets as assigned. They will be your guides for the next few days. If not, then good luck to you because books are not permitted." At this, a few students hung their heads. "This activity will count as an exam that will be the equivalent of twenty percent of your grade. Therefore, I have randomly selected partners for each of you." Many groans surrounded this comment, none of them, however, being louder than that of Michael Newton's. He scowled at Mr. Marks, frowned at Miss Swan, and went back to scowling again.

"Once I read off your partner's name, please join together at a table. When I am finished, I will distribute the frogs and dissection plates. Now, let's see…ah, yes, Malone and Carter, Nelson and Crawford, Stafford and Johnson, Zimmerman and Farrar, Newton and Webber, and Swan and Masen." With that, Mr. Marks moved to the back of the room to collect the frogs.

Isabella glanced back at Edward and gave him a small, timid smile. She gathered her things and started to move back towards his table since his previous partner had already left. Newton glared at Edward over her shoulder. Edward knew that he was upset not just at losing Miss Isabella as a partner but at losing her to the likes of Edward.

"Hello, Edward," she said quietly as she sat down next to him. She plopped down in her chair quite ungracefully and kept her eyes on the table. This was the first time they had actually conversed in a month and a half.

"Hello, Miss Swan," he replied, rearranging the instruments for the dissection in front of him. At this, she looked up at him, her eyes bright. She shook her head, a smile playing at her lips. He then laughed, not entirely humorous but a laugh nonetheless. "My apologies, Isabella."

She nodded, a bigger smile now on her face. "Thank you." She laughed as well until Mr. Marks placed the frog on its tray in front of them. She quickly stopped and turned her head away as Edward got to work placing the pins so the frog would not move while he was cutting.

"Oh, I apologize again. Here I am doing all the work. Do you-." He broke off when he looked up at her. Her face was easily as green as the frog's. Her eyes were incredibly dull and her hands were fidgeting underneath the table. "Are you alright, Isabella?" he asked, concern laced through his voice.

"Yes," she answered all too quickly. She nodded her head vigorously until it obviously gave her a headache to which she grabbed her head. She looked up at him, shame written all over her beautiful features. "No. I must admit that I am rather squeamish. That and seeing the poor animal…." She broke off, turning her head away from the sight.

"That's okay, Isabella." Edward gently touched her elbow to get her to look at him. He was worried about how she looked. It was terrifying that anyone could turn that green. She seemed to relax slightly when he touched her so he did not remove his hand. Besides, he wanted to remain contact as long as possible without looking entirely improper. "What do you say to using your packet for the dissection while I actually perform it? That way we both are contributing equally."

She smiled at him and nodded gently. She reached into her book and pulled out a large packet of papers. Edward casually flipped through them, checking to make sure that everything was complete without offending her. Everything was filled in with graceful, loopy penmanship. The sight was breathtaking. That was how he knew he was in trouble; even the girl's handwriting seemed perfect to him.

He nodded in response, an affirmation to her and a head-clearing gesture to himself. He opened the packet to the first page that held the instructions for the first day of work. He picked up the scalpel while he read through the instructions quickly so as to become acquainted with them. He looked over at Isabella before he began to make the first incision to make sure that she was doing okay. She had turned from green to incredibly pale in a matter of seconds.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, looking at her carefully. He tried to read her once again even though he knew that it was futile. She was closed off from him for some odd reason and that only made him worry even more. She merely nodded in response, her gaze fixed on the scalpel in his hand. He watched her for a few more seconds before turning back to the task at hand. He lowered the scalpel to the frog's stomach and was about to cut the flesh when Isabella made a choking noise. Edward turned just in time to see her beautiful chocolate eyes roll in the back of her head and start to fall of her stool. He threw down the scalpel, forgetting all safety precautions, and reached out to catch her. His arms were around her before her body even left the stool.

"Nurse's office, if you please, Mr. Masen," Mr. Marks responded in a dull voice before turning back to a group of students with a question.

Edward shook his head as he carefully picked her up in his arms, not surprised by the fact that it felt as though she weighed nothing. He made sure her head was supported by his arm before he started towards the door. Everyone in the classroom watched them as he walked out. He could hear the jealousy coming from both sexes, one male voice standing out with particular furiousness. He was met at the door by Newton himself.

"I'll take her to the nurse's, Masen. That way you can get back to your frog." Newton smirked at him and he held out his arms to receive his beloved.

Over my cold, dead body.

"Oh, nonsense, Newton. I've got her just fine. She's in capable hands. Don't you fret." With his trademark smirk intact, he continued towards the door.

"You know as well as I that this is inappropriate," Newton said in a whisper so that only he could hear. Edward kept his back to him so that he could not see his anger. "Not only do you have your hands on a lady you are not well acquainted with but you are also doing it against her father's wishes. I know that you know what I'm talking about." Edward could hear the smirk on his face. Newton felt that he had trapped Edward into handing over Isabella, in more ways than one. But Newton was an even bigger idiot if he thought that Edward was that easily swayed.

"Thank you for your insight, Newton. Now, if you don't mind, Isabella needs to go to the nurse." With that he strolled out of the room, drawing a still unconscious Isabella Swan closer to his body.

He arrived in the nurse's office a few minutes later after two flights of steps, a horde of worried freshman girls, and a confrontation with Mr. Matthew's. He laid her down on the single gurney in the room and sat in a chair opposite her as he waited for the nurse to come in. He watched Isabella intently for any sign of recovery. After a few minutes, her eyes started to flutter open and she looked around before they found Edward. She smiled at him, a blush appearing on her cheeks.

"I told you I was squeamish," she said, obviously embarrassed by the situation.

"Well," Edward responded, relieved that she had woken up. "You did warn me right?" She nodded just as the nurse came in.

Nurse Kindle was a kind, older lady, probably in her late fifties. She had white hair that was always pulled up in a bun and that matched the gown she wore. She was known for given hard candy to her patients and letting seniors have a lie-in when they were tired.

"Hello, dearie. I don't believe I've seen you before," she said in her thick Irish accent as she looked down at Isabella. "Frog dissection began to today, eh? Well, let's see what we can do for you…." She broke off as she began to look over Isabella. Edward turned his head away, trying to give her some privacy in the small enclosed space. When she was done, she produced a white wicker basket with various pieces of candy and gave it to Isabella. "I do believe it would be best for you to go home. The day is almost over anyway. Can your friend here take you home?" She smiled warmly at Edward.

"Of course. Whenever you're ready, Isabella." He stood up and walked over to her. She smiled up at him, obviously still embarrassed by the situation and the fact that he had to take her home. He offered her his hand which she graciously took. He marveled at the size of her small, fragile looking hand in his own large, calloused ones. He helped her to stand up, offering her his arm once she was on her feet so she could steady herself. They walked out of the nurse's office with a thank you and proceeded to the parking lot of Stoker. Luckily, Edward had parked close to the entrance today so Isabella did not have to walk very far. He helped her into the passenger seat, closed her door, and got in on the driver's side. He started the car, made sure she was feeling alright, and drove towards the Swan household. It was only a five minute drive and Edward wished that it could have lasted longer. True, neither of them was speaking but just being this close to her was an improvement. It was wrong, completely against her father's wishes but it was not Edward's fault that he just so happened to be her partner and she just so happened to faint. It was not his fault at all. That is what he kept telling himself.

When they reached her house, he helped her out of the car and she stumbled three or four times before they made it through the door. The maid, who answered the door, looked at them with surprise as Edward helped Isabella into the waiting room which was a small room off of the sitting room. It too was furnished completely in white. The walls, the bookshelves, the desk in the corner, the drapes, the couch and two chairs, and the carpeting were all white. The only things that brought any sort of color to the room were the books that screamed new and unused and the bright red blanket that hung over the back of the couch.

Edward let go of Isabella as she laid down on the couch. The maid announced at that she would make tea and disappeared before either could say that the gesture was unnecessary. Isabella motioned for Edward to sit down on the nearest chair and he obliged.

"I am sorry about this, Edward," she said, the blush returning to her cheeks. "It must seem so silly."

Edward shook his head in the negative. She looked him in the eye with a smile on her lips, trying to get him to tell the truth. He then laughed lightly, and nodded his twice. "Okay, maybe a little. But I don't hold it against you if that's what you're worried about. It makes sense…I suppose." He laughed again and she smiled weakly, settling further back into the couch. "Why don't you go to sleep, Isabella?"

She smiled up at him. "I couldn't do that…not while I have a guest in the house. It wouldn't be proper."

Edward laughed. "Oh, forget about the proper thing to do. You need your rest."

Isabella nodded, and closed her eyes. Edward shifted in his chair and Isabella's eyes immediately opened at the sound. Edward laughed, stood up, draped the blanket over her body, and stooped down to her level. "Don't look so frightened, Isabella."

"Then don't leave," she said sounding completely serious. She looked up at Edward with wide eyes that bore into his very soul.

He smiled down at her and could not help but push a piece of hair from her face. "Not until you're sound asleep." She then closed her eyes and sighed. He stood up and sat back down in the chair and watched the little angel sleep. Her pale skin shone in the light that shined through the windows. Her curly, dark brown hair was splashed all over the white couch. She held on tightly to the blanket around her. She looked so breakable and delicate like the glass ornaments that his mother collected. He just wanted to hold her, to protect her, to be with her.

And in that moment, everything cleared up. He could not explain it. It was like music suddenly burst forth from everywhere but nowhere at once. It surrounded him, it became him. He could hear it playing in his ear. It was a sweet, achingly sweet lullaby. Isabella created it with her slumber. She talked to him, wanted him with her. It was enough to bring the music back in full force, in a force that was not there to begin with.

For the first time in a month and a half, he longed to be sitting in front of a piano. He stood up and was about to head out the door when he looked back to the sleeping Isabella. He walked back to her and stooped in front of her once again. He brushed her cheek with his fingertips; a soft high note. He kissed her on the forehead; a engaging, sensitive melody.

"Sleep, my Bella, and I'll write you a lullaby."

He practically ran from the house and into his car. He was certain that he was driving way over the speed limit but he felt that he could not get home soon enough. He nearly took out Julie, their maid, on rushing into the house and ignored James altogether as he yelled about Edward tracking in mud. He immediately went downstairs to his second piano, found some paper to write on, and went to work.

It was unlike any time he had written before. Before, he had to work just to come up with the right notes. He had to strain himself to hear anything. Now, everything came without a break. He had to pay close attention to keep up. Melodies, versus, bridges were all playing in his head and Isabella was dancing around them, her melodic laugh mixed in. He could still see her sleeping peacefully on the couch and that it what made him continue writing. It was for her, because of her. He had never had an experience like this one before. He did not want to stop. He was on a cloud.

He worked without a break through the night. More than once did his parents try to talk to him but he shut them out for they were not part of the music that was playing inside of him. Mary Alice even stopped by. He could hear her worry from the floor above but he could not stop writing and playing. He was afraid that if he did, he would never get the inspiration back. Sleep did not come and he worked on as the morning sun shone through the small window near the ceiling of the basement. His could barely hear his parents over the music in his head when they called him for breakfast but he ignored them. He refused to move until the piece was finished. He knew that it was reaching the end and the thought brought out a sadness in him. He skipped school without a second thought. By mid-day, with much writing and revising, he was finished.

He played it a slow tempo, letting the music that he wrote, that Isabella created, wash over him. It was bitterly sweet, all of his emotions towards an angel pouring out from his instrument. Satisfied, he moved over to the couch and laid down. He fell asleep quickly, the piece playing over and over in his head.

It was beautiful.

It was perfect.

It was his first original.


Well, there is the 3rd chapter. I hope that it did not disappoint. I would like to thank all that reviewed for chapter 2. It really means a lot to hear what you all think. On that note, I would not mind a review for this chapter…hint hint.

On another note, I do think that some of you are a little upset with how long it is taking me to update. Trust me, I understand. I grow anxious too when it takes an author forever to put up a new chapter. But here is the part where I ask you to bear with me. I am now writing my chapters on my new lap top (CLAP) and I have to wait to post until I can go somewhere with WiFi. Annoying, I know but it is a little more convenient than writing on my regular computer. Also, there is a lot going on for me right now so I am doing the best I can. Hopefully, updates will be a little closer together but I really cannot promise anything. I will do my best. But do not lose faith! This story will continue. I have a lot I want to do with it. More or less, I have all the chapters planned out which is a BIG step for me. So, this story is officially my baby. Treat it well. And my baby likes reviews for snacks. Just a thought! Anyway, hope that you liked it and thanks for reading!

Pumpkin