E-POV

There was a lengthy debate on driving arrangements from campus to my house, centered around Bella's concerns. She worried how I would get my car back if we took her truck. She worried how she would get her truck back if we took my car. Even with my constant assurances that I would take care of everything, she was adamant about having a plan and being a contributor toward said plan. It was clear that Bella had no desire to be blindly attended to. I supposed being best friends with her father, she had an integral role in all household decisions earlier than most. I had many thoughts on Charlie Swan's parenting style, none of which I would voice. Bella was perfectly happy with their odd relationship.

And if Bella was happy, I was deliriously happy.

In the end, the bench seat in Bella's truck was the deciding factor, because she could snuggle up to my side as I drove. We both thought that was more important than gas mileage and logistics. The drive to my house was quiet and warm, with Bella's heater turned all the way up and her natural, human warmth leaning against me.

"There's only one I haven't met," she said randomly, halfway through the drive. "Emmett's wife. Your sister."

I thought back through her various encounters with my family. She was right. She met everyone—albeit briefly—besides Rose.

"Rosalie." I tried to keep my voice level, but Bella heard what others did not.

She sat up so she could get a better look at my face. "Uh oh. Why did you say it like that? She hates me, doesn't she?"

"No," I rubbed her shoulder, "No one hates you. Rosalie hates me."

"How can that possibly be?"

I laughed once without humor. It was sweet of Bella to think that. However, there were many, many reasons someone could hate me, all of them perfectly justified. "Rosalie and I have always had a rocky relationship. We got into a fight before winter break, and we haven't forgiven each other yet."

Unlike the rest of my family, Rosalie had not forgiven me for my lapse in mental control. During our trip to Alaska, Rosalie and I put aside our differences to make the holiday pleasant for Esme and Carlisle. But up until the second before and after the second we returned, Rosalie refused to look at me, let alone speak to me. I was fine with the arrangement, but it hurt Emmett to see his wife and his friend estranged. He spoke to us both, individually, and we both said we'd feel better if the other apologized. He arranged the meeting such an apology, but the two of us stared at each other in tense silence and left after two minutes.

Of course, there was more to it. Decades of snow resulted in the avalanche.

I knew how much Rosalie hated the person she was raised to be. I also knew how much effort she put in to be more than an airheaded heiress. It was respect for that side of her that kept me civil after all these years. Rosalie was prepped and primed to see herself above all others, because in her world, she was above all others. The pearl among pebbles.

I had left the family when Carlisle found Rosalie dying of tuberculosis. Just like my family had been taken by the Spanish Influenza, Rosalie had no one else. Carlisle changed her and offered her to Esme as another child. In a happy twist of fate, Rosalie was glad to leave her human past behind. She left cruelty and ignorance behind to pursue a life of kindness and science. Carlisle and Esme truly thought they acquired the perfect daughter with the heart of a saint, the face of an angel, and the mind of a scholar. For years, Rosalie thought no one would ever know how hideous she was on the inside.

Until I returned. Not only did Rosalie have to share her new family with someone she perceived as a failure, that failure knew who she truly was. And no matter what she said or did, I would always know her first thought. And those two things rarely matched up. I understood that a person's actions and words said more about them than their thoughts, but Rosalie did not have that same outlook. To her, I was a threat. An enemy who could ruin her at any moment.

And I had. I exposed her in front of the family by revealing her cruel thoughts toward Bella. Obviously, Emmett and Carlisle forgave and forgot, but it took Esme, Jasper, and Alice a little longer to warm back up to her. I regretted what I did to Rosalie, but not enough to forgive her. After all, she insulted the love of my life.

Who was currently sitting in her old truck beside me, lovingly stroking my arm. "I'm sorry, Edward."

"It's alright. It was my fault, anyway. Promise me you'll take anything she does with a grain of salt. Anything cruel she does or says to you is at my expense, not yours. Alright?"

There was a long pause before Bella quietly agreed. "Alright."

I frowned. I managed to ruin this visit before it even began. "We don't have to go. I can take you home, or we can go anywhere else."

"No," my brave girl shook her head, decidedly. "I want to see Esme again. And Alice."

"They'll both be there and will be just as happy to see you. Besides, Rosalie has been avoiding me, so she probably won't be at the house."

She curled back into my side, unknowingly calming me with her scent and warmth. When we turned down the drive, Bella left my side to look out the passenger window. She pressed her face to the glass, searching our woods as if she were going to see a unicorn or fairy hidden among the trees. Then, she gasped in unrestrained delight when the house came into view.

I fought a smile. I knew she'd like it.

The house was charming and old—Bella's favorite things. Built to honor timeless design.

Out of habit, I scanned the thoughts in the house to get an idea of where everyone was. To my surprise, Rosalie was waiting with Emmett in the front sunroom. In her mind, she chanted: She is smart. She is kind. She is more than her size…

I hesitated, fretting over the situation I was about to bring Bella into. Emmett's thoughts revealed nothing. By the time I returned to my own mind, the passenger door was wide open, and Bella blazed ahead, eager to explore the wonder before her. I caught up to her at the bottom of the porch steps. I wrapped my arm around her, careful to place myself between her and where Rosalie would be.

"Rosalie and Emmett are right inside." I phrased my warning as innocently as possible, knowing whatever I said would be heard by my siblings.

Bella's eyebrows furrowed, as she considered what that meant. There was only a small hesitation before she ultimately pushed through the door, determined.

She blinked in awe at the sunroom, adjacent to the porch. The walls were made of screens. It was built for stormy nights, to watch the rainfall from a comfortable, dry seat. Rosalie and Emmett lounged on the large, swinging daybed that hung from the ceiling.

"Ayo!" Emmett threw up both hands the second Bella stepped into view. "You remember me?"

"Yes," Bella blushed deeply. Emmett got a kick out of that reaction—his smile almost doubled in size. "Thank you for saving me and my coat."

My brother was untangled from Rose and offering Bella his hand in the blink of an eye. Startled, Bella stumbled back into me, but quickly regained her composure to shake his hand.

"It's awesome to meet you," he said, sneaking me a wink, "I'm Emmett. Your savior. Eddie's role model. Rosie's husband."

He gestured back to Rosalie who joined our small group at a human pace. Her smile was pleasant as she greeted Bella, "It's great to meet you, Bella. Where did you get your boots? I think I have the same pair."

My jaw dropped. That was the last reaction I expected out of Rosalie.

As Bella looked down at her shoes, trying to remember their origin, Rosalie's eyes flickered over to me. Her kind smile darkened into something sinister as she thought, I will not be reduced to the person you think I am.

Her smile thawed into something sunnier in time for Bella to look up and apologize. "I'm sorry—I don't remember."

"Don't worry about it." Rosalie waved her off, "Regardless, they look great on you."

Emmett took over the conversation then, giving Rosalie one last chance to scowl in my direction. Have fun dragging my name through the mud after that.

I could tell she wanted me to walk away from this encounter with my tail between my legs, but all I felt was gratitude. I could practically feel the weight lift off from Bella under Rosalie's unexpected warmth. If she was going to be nice to my girlfriend, I would take it. Even if it was only out of spite.

Meanwhile, Emmett had a few stupid questions he wanted to get out of the way. "Bella, there's something I've been dying at ask a human."

"Shoot."

"What do French fries taste like? How can they be eaten with so many sauces?"

Bella paused a moment, like she was checking to see if he was being serious. When it became clear that he was, she let out a hoot with mirth. If Rosalie and I were on normal speaking terms, we would agree that it was the start of a beautiful friendship.

"Um, they're salty and starchy and retain the right amount of oil to make them tasty. They're basically a blank canvas. That's why they go with so many sauces."

"Humans go wild with sauces, man." Emmett shook his head, incredulous. "It blows my mind that someone will dunk a carrot and a French fry in ranch dressing. How can it taste good with both? They seem like opposite things."

"They're both root vegetables," Bella pointed out.

Emmett face-palmed himself, like he should have made the connection earlier. "Rosie, they're both vegetables!"

"Nothing's a vegetable, babe," Rosalie corrected, on her way back to the couch, making it clear that Emmett should follow. Like the golden retriever he was at heart, he did. At the subtle dismissal, I led Bella out of the room.

"Bye Duckie, bye Bella!" Emmett called after us.

"Duckie?" Bella asked, after a beat.

"It's a long story."

We stopped at the coat closet right outside the sunroom. I took both of Bella's jackets, as well as her hat, mittens, and scarf and put them away as she marveled at the space before her. Tastefully filled to the brim with all Esme's collection of trinkets and art, with stories tied to each and every one.

Jasper and Carlisle sat along the back window wall, a game of chess set up between them. I idly wondered if my family's convenient placement was staged by Alice and Esme after they heard the news. They both waved at Bella. Politeness overpowered curiosity, and Bella met them instead of quizzing me on every item she saw. Both gentlemen rose as we approached.

"Bella, I believe you've met Jasper and Carlisle before."

"Hi, Jasper. Hi, Dr. Cullen," she grinned. Something sparkled in her smile—she found something humorous about their encounter.

"Please, call me Carlisle. The nurses in the emergency room tell me you're expected back any day now."

Bella laughed. "Yes, my six-month appointment for an accident is coming up fast."

Protective instincts flaring at even the thought of Bella in the emergency room, I relocated my hand from her lower back to her hip. "What's this now?"

She lovingly patted my stomach, "Don't worry—it's just a joke. I wind up in the ER every few months or so and it's never a big deal."

"Not with me around," I swore.

"I'm not sure you'll win against three frisbees," Jasper noted, the second most shocking thing to happen that day. Jasper was a firm believer in don't speak unless spoken to.

Bella blushed; her gaze dropped back down to her shoes. Before I could ask the question, Jasper replayed the memory in his mind. Apparently, he encountered Bella weeks before the rest of the family, when his frisbee was one of three to accidentally hit Bella all at once. The memory ended with him and the two others rushing up to make sure she was alright.

He blew air out of his nose—the closest he ever got to laughing out loud.

"Half of my injuries are due to my own terrible luck," Bella admitted. She smiled up a Jasper, timid and unbearably sweet, "I thought I recognized you."

Jasper bowed his head, respectfully.

At that, we left the boys to finish their game and made our way down a small corridor toward the final pair, tucked in Esme's studio. It made me nervous to introduce Bella to both of them at once, for they were struggling to maintain their composure.

"Take it easy," I warned under my breath, too low for Bella to hear.

"Bella," holding her hand, I swung her around the corner and through the door, "You remember Alice and Esme."

They smiled and greeted her with a casual amount of excitement. On the inside, they were close to bursting with pride and joy.

"It's great to see you again," Bella joined them, "What are you working on?"

"Embroidering fabric for a set of spring clothes." Alice chirped. She and Esme held up the fabric for Bella to see.

"Wow! You make your own clothes? That's so cool!" Bella examined the fabric, rubbing the material between her fingers. "Charlie always told me it would be a good thing for us to learn how to sew. We learned a single stitch before he moved right along to the next thing. Neither of us went back."

"I could teach you!" Alice offered. "We can start with a skirt using this."

"That would great, thanks!"

"That's a wonderful idea!" Esme beamed. "We'll be sure to include this part of the fabric into Bella's piece." She held up a section of one of the edges.

"Why?"

"It's the part that Edward worked on." She handed Bella the small section for her to examine, throwing me a wink.

If I could blush, I would be flaming red.

"Edward embroiders?" Bella looked back at me, eyebrows to her hairline, and traced her fingers over the flowers. "The first day we met, he mentioned his infinite skill and talent. I didn't know embroidery was on the list."

"You said that?" Esme asked, appalled. She knew I was never one to brag. I barely spoke of my accomplishments to my family, let alone a complete stranger. However, she never took into consideration how flustered I would become when the complete stranger was so pretty.

"It was relevant to the conversation," I mumbled, awkwardly.

"I wouldn't call Edward an avid embroiderer," Alice said. "He just does whatever we tell him to. We're giving him to you pre-whipped."

Her tone was so matter-of-fact, that it took the other two girls a moment to realize what she said. When they did, Bella burst into a bout of laughter. Esme did her best to keep her giggles in, but the moment we made eye contact, they escaped.

"Is that so?" Bella asked between giggles.

I looked up at the ceiling, regretting this decision more than I regretted anything in a long time.

"Watch!" Alice hopped up and over to me. I gave her my most intimidating scowl, but she ignored it. She positioned my arms parallel to one another, pulled yarn between my outstretched hands, and showed me off with a flourish. "See? The perfect yarn holder."

Laughing, Esme removed the yarn. I frowned at her, knowing her intention was not to be my savior. "Oh, honey, don't belittle his talents. We both know he's our favorite model."

"Oh no."

"Model!" Bella exclaimed.

Esme pushed me to the corner, stuck a floppy hat on my head and a pile of books in my hands, then flipped through her sketchbooks. Each page was a drawing of me in this exact pose, proof that I held this position for hours. At the time, I was happy to pose for Esme to practice the textures of the props and the light glistening from my skin. With my girlfriend in the room, everything about it was humiliating.

Bella gasped, "The sparkle!" Then to Esme, "Those are beautiful."

"Thank you, honey. Would you like one?"

"Please no…" I begged.

"Not only is he the model…" Alice took the books away and stuck a large canvas in my hands, leaning it against my face. "He's also the easel!"

"Oh, Edward," Bella added sympathetically, between giggles.

"I've never done this." It was meant to defend my honor, but the canvas against my face muffled my voice, causing the girls to burst into the riotous laughter I wanted to avoid.

Esme took the canvas, then patted my cheek. "He's sweet."

Freed from their mockery, I tossed the hat to the side, took Bella's hand, and towed her away. "Thank you for that, everyone. We'll be going now."

"Don't worry," Bella rubbed my hand with both of hers, "It's cute!"

I wasn't sure I wanted my girlfriend to find me cute, but I supposed it was better than pathetic or embarrassing.

There was no one left and nothing else to do but go up to my room. Bella remained wide-eyed and curious throughout the journey. I pointed out the purpose of each as we passed the room on the second floor. She marveled at the iron spiral staircase that led us up through the attic to the afterthought that was my room, tacked onto the top of the house.

"You're like Cinderella," Bella said, her delicate fingers tracing over the intricate ironwork on the railing, "Or Rapunzel."

Her tone was light and teasing, but shame washed through me. If we were taking characters from stories, I was the Hunchback of Notre Dame or Boo Radley—the monster pushed out of the way to ease the lives of others. Out of sight, out of mind.

At the top, I offered Bella my hand. She didn't take it. Instead, she wove her arm through mine and laid her cheek against my bicep. Her other hand stroked my jaw, coaxing me to look at her. Her smile was soft, her eyes bright. "It's so cool."

I offered the most encouraging smile I could manage, caught her fingers to place a light kiss on each, and pulled her into my room. Bella reacted with the same, awestruck gasp as she did for the rest of the house. The space wasn't well-decorated like every other room in the house. It was stuffed to the brim with books, CDs, small instruments, and sentimental items I could never leave behind in a storage bin. Bella opened each of the doors: my cramped music studio, my tidy closet, and my bathroom. After her initial inspection was complete, she stood right in the middle of the space. She stared out the windows at the treetops for a long moment before she looked back at me.

"Now what?"

"That would be up to you, I suppose."

"We can work on our homework," she suggested. "It was what we would have done if we were still at school."

"Good idea."

Neither of us made the first move.

"I don't have any assignments," I admitted.

Bella laughed, "Me neither."

I joined her laughter. We looked at each other, then around the room. With nothing else to do, Bella wandered over to my bookcase for a thorough investigation. I lingered behind her, enjoying the view.

I answered her questions, and offered recommendations for both CDs and books. Soon, there was a small stack of things for her to borrow. She requested the stories for each object. The baseball I caught during my first ball game with Emmett and Jasper. The photographs of me with artists through the ages: Etta James, Billy Joel, Beck. The jewelry box belonged to my human mother.

Bella flipped open the last one, gently picking through the gold, silver, and gems. I joined her, as she marveled at the golden scarf clip, finally understanding what we could do alone in my room. There was a spot right under her hip that always drew my attention that I had always been too nervous to touch.

"I can't believe you're real," she whispered, before I gained enough courage to reach for her. "Every moment I'm with you feels like a dream." Her finger trailed down the spine of a book. "It's…" She looked up at me then, her warm, chocolate eyes speaking the words she could not find. Her gaze traced my face, lingering on my lips.

Even with her extremely clear signal, I wasn't sure what she wanted. On the one hand, she was here, regarding me with desire that—by all rights—should be directed elsewhere. Anywhere else. She accepted me, encouraged me, defended me.

Yet, her first reaction to the truth was to run away. I understood that it was rational to flee from the monster and forgave her the moment I learned what happened. Emmett claimed she would be interested in my vampire side, but how much weird could she handle? Would she be frightened? Dazzled? Impressed?

The only way to find out was to test it. Her mere presence must inspire bravery. Otherwise, I never would have been comfortable enough to reveal the monster, even the harmless parts of him.

"Then don't wake up." I bent down, past her face, and pressed my lips to her neck. She gasped deliciously and her arms flew up around my neck, as if to hold me to her. Encouraged by her positive reaction, I growled against her skin and was rewarded as she pressed her gorgeous body against me.

I smiled. Emmett was right. Bella wanted a vampire.

If she wanted a vampire, I would give her a vampire.

I licked the soft line of her jaw and swallowed her excited gasp as I brought my mouth to hers. Without breaking the kiss, I walked her three steps back towards my dresser. I lifted her effortlessly into my arms and set her on the dresser, so I wouldn't have to bend down. It took me too long to realize she was no longer kissing me back. I immediately pulled back.

Eyes wild, her swollen lips were puckered into a small o. She had fistfuls of my shirt, like she was holding onto me for dear life.

I ran a hand through her hair. "Are you alright?"

She exhaled a shaky breath. She nodded, but she clearly wasn't. Guilt filled my lungs as if to drown me. I had moved too quickly, revealed too much. My poor, perfect love was terrified.

"I'm so sorry," I helped her down from the dresser. Her grip on my shirt tightened until I set her back on her feet. "I promise I won't hurt you."

"I know." She released her grip, then smoothed the fabric down. "I'm sorry, too."

"I love you," I reminded her gently, pressing my forehead to hers.

"I love you, too."

Miraculously, I hadn't ruined everything with my thoughtlessness. Her hands left my shirt and tangled in my hair. We kept this kiss human—her fingers brushing through my hair, my hands running across her back, down her waist.

We kissed until her stomach growled, and I couldn't help but laugh. A blush heated her lovely face all the way down to her neck.

"Dinnertime?" I guessed, fruitlessly looking out the window for the sun. It had been behind clouds all day. Judging from the dark, gray clouds, it was just about to set.

Bella's hands slid out of my hair and wrapped around my waist. She laid her cheek against my chest. "I guess I should go home."

I chuckled at her reluctance. "May I join you?"

"Would you like to?"

"Yes, please."

She extracted herself from my arms to give me a proper, stern expression. "Charlie will be there."

I figured as much. In fact, I anticipated it. "We might as well get all the meet-and-greets over with in one, fell swoop."

B-POV

I was restless the entire drive—I couldn't stop fidgeting. For a while, Edward tried to soothe me with gentle pats and soft, melodic hums. He realized eventually I was beyond saving. It was terrifying enough to bring a boy home, but no magazine article or self-help book could prepare me to introduce my superpowered, supernatural boyfriend to my very human, surprisingly keen father.

Even after I expressed these worries, Edward assured me that everything would be fine. No one before me had figured out his secret, he'd said. It was a reassuring thought, because, in reality, I hadn't figured it out—Esme had told me.

Still, bringing a boy home to meet my father was novel, and I hated that I didn't know the ending.

When we got to the house, Charlie was in the kitchen. Knowing my father, dinner would be one of two things: a frozen pizza or Chinese food. I was pleased to find it was the latter. Folded takeout containers were sprinkled across the counter, promising leftovers for days. With this amount of chicken dishes, I would be pardoned from cooking duty for at least three days.

"Hey, Dad."

Charlie didn't look up as he fixed his plate, "I ordered pork lo mein, honey. Remember how badly your stomach reacted to the shrimp last time?"

I cleared my throat. He looked up. He took in my anger with a confused quirk on his brow until his eyes flickered behind me, where Edward was standing.

"Oh," he gasped. He grinned at me, sheepishly, "Whoops."

"Whoops is right," I said between my teeth. I tried to look menacing, but the blush ruined the effect. "Dad, you remember Edward."

"How could I forget? You are quite good-looking."

"Dad!" One blush blended into the next.

"Please, Bella," Charlie beckoned us in, "People don't put in the work for a physique like that not to be told they're good-looking."

I glanced back at Edward, humiliated, to be sure he didn't seem too horrified by my father's behavior, but a huge grin was spread across his face. He was having fun. I hated him for it. He reacted to my scowl with a wink. As Charlie turned to fetch another plate for Edward, he took the opportunity to whisper in my ear, "Not as much fun when it's happening to you, is it?"

Unjustified retribution for my harmless teasing with his mother and sister that afternoon. Edward lightly nipped my earlobe and stood in time for Charlie to turn back around. I didn't get the chance to express my hatred.

"Do you play any sports?" Charlie asked, handing me Edward's plate.

"I played a few. Baseball was always my favorite."

"Did you try out for the team at school?"

"I didn't. I never stuck to one sport long enough to get good."

It was the right thing to say to my father—surely, Edward knew that. I could hear the smile in Charlie's voice as he said, "I know what that's like."

They shared a laugh and sat at the table while I went for the food.

"So, all this…" My back was turned, so I could only pray Charlie's gesture was respectful, "…is for pleasure?"

"My brothers and I spend our quality time together in the gym."

"How many brothers do you have?"

"One adopted brother, one brother-in-law."

While my father questioned my boyfriend, I prepared Edward and myself matching plates. I was sure Edward would use some sort of vampire ability to trick Charlie into thinking he ate. The thought of Edward's vampire abilities brought an unwanted blush to my face and sent a shiver down my spine. I dropped the serving fork. It clattered onto the counter, knocking over the container of chicken and broccoli with it. I glanced back at the boys. Charlie was used to my clumsiness and all the sounds that accompanied it—he was busy listing all the sports he attempted. Edward, however, looked up for reassurance that I was okay. I threw him a thumbs-up and offered a half-hearted smile.

Facing away, I squeezed my eyes shut. I thought of his lips on my neck, his super strength, so impressive it made me feel weightless. Only, I wasn't weightless. And because he lifted me, Edward knew just how heavy I was. And surely the sound of the dresser creaking under my weight didn't slip past his notice.

Even now—just thinking about it—shame shook me to my core. Edward didn't seem disturbed—only confused at my sudden discomfort. I couldn't tell if his reaction was brought by politeness or delusion. Surely, it wasn't something he could ignore.

I peeked back at him once more. He was perfectly at ease talking with Charlie. I guessed I inherited my silent mind from my dad. The thought made me smile—I wanted Edward to be comfortable here. I wanted him to feel just as happy with me as I did with him. I never thought I could love someone as much as I loved Edward. My own antique: charming, rich in history, uniquely fascinating.

I joined the boys, placing a plate in front of Edward. Charlie clapped once, pleased by my arrival. "There's our girl!"

Edward pressed his nose into my hair, left a kiss, and whispered, "My beautiful girl."

He was everything I wanted and more than I could ever dream possible. All I could do was heed Edward's advice and not wake up.

They love each other but they hate themselves! Those stupid idiots! They're everything to me!

This chapter isn't even late, but it feels like forever since I last posted. I'm so sorry I didn't respond to comments individually this time, but please know I am so grateful for each and every one! You guys are so good to me.