He paused by the door when he heard quiet movement on the other side of it. He knocked once before opening it.

Inside, he saw the man, Evans, kneeling on the floor, doing up his shoes.

"Are you leaving?"

Evans looked up. Edward noticed the swift inspection and he stood still, trying not to let it bother him. After a fashion of time, Evans murmured a clipped, "Yes." He went back to his shoelaces, finishing up the knot. Then he stood up carefully so as to stave off any lingering lightheadedness. He smoothed the shirt he had on, which was from Jasper's wardrobe. His own clothes had been ripped and bloodied from the attack. He didn't seem to notice, however. He waited for Edward to speak.

The vampire didn't. He simply nodded and stepped to the side.

Evans moved towards the door with his head down and his hands clenched into fists at his side. Edward followed him with his eyes. If the man wanted to leave, he could. Edward wouldn't try to stop him.

When the rest of the coven returned for the night, they found Edward sitting in the living room, pretending to read a book. They glanced at each other when they realized that the now familiar heartbeat that had sounded in their home for the past week was suddenly gone.

"Where is he, Edward?" Esme asked lightly.

"He left."

"I see… He appeared healthy, did he?" Carlisle wanted to know.

"Yes," Edward replied. "Very."

"Good."

Rosalie clicked her tongue in exasperation before running up to her room, Emmet following close by. Jasper simply appeared relieved while Alice had a troubled expression on her face. Esme and Carlisle soon left their children so they could talk in private.

Alice hesitated for a moment, then walked to the couch and sat beside Edward. Jasper leaned against the wall with his arms folded against his chest, quietly waiting. "Did he say anything?" she asked.

Edward shook his head and flipped a page in the book.

"I can't read him," she went on to explain. "So it's strange."

"Yes, it is."

She flicked her eyes at her husband who nodded in encouragement. "Um…"

"Yes, I am fine," Edward smiled as he lifted his attention off the page and towards his sister and brother. "I am. He reminded me of someone from… a long time ago. That's all."

"Oh," Alice exhaled. "Good." She had been immensely worried by his strange behavior. "Bella is-"

"I called her up," Edward interjected. "It's fine. I've already talked to her about it."

"Then looks like my work here is done," Alice said while dusting off her hands and getting up.

Edward chuckled and shook his head. His family was always looking out for him. Truth be told, he wasn't sure what was wrong with him either. Perhaps it was the shock of getting a human involved in an immortal fight. Or maybe it was a morbid fascination with the man who wouldn't die even after being broken.

"Hello! I'm Frederick!"

Edward rushed towards his mother and hid behind her skirt, clutching it tight in his fists. Elizabeth Masen laughed with some embarrassment while trying to get her son to behave. "I'm sorry, Frederick," she apologized to the older boy who was staring up at her in dismay. "He's shy."

"Oh," Frederick mumbled. He waited for a few moments to see if he would see Edward's curly head peeking out from behind Elizabeth, but he didn't. "I'm going to play," he said finally.

Elizabeth glanced down at her son pointedly. "Why don't you play with Frederick, Edward?"

"No," Edward mumbled.

"That's fine," Frederick said with a nonchalant shrug. Then he ran off without another word. Edward stared after him in disappointment and self-reproach while his mother tsked.

He stared up at the grey skies from his perch on the floor of his room. Awfully sad music played through the speakers but he could care less if it made him seem like a moody eighteen year old. In his hand was the engagement ring he had put on Bella's finger.

For the past two days, they had been talking and she had been crying. It all boiled down to a broken engagement and furious relatives. She had chosen Jacob over him. He leaned his head against the window. It was for the best, which was what he kept telling himself. This way she wouldn't have to be turned and she would have a… relatively normal life with her precious mutt.

He hissed out of spite and then pursed his lips to stop his anger. He had given her the choice after the fight with Victoria. And she had chosen out of her own free will. He drew one knee up and rested his cheek on it while staring out at the forest. He wished for the sun.

He stared up at the scorching sun while shielding his eyes. Sweat ran down his back, somehow refreshing him. Days like these made him appreciate his vacation time. He tilted his head down and squinted ahead, barely making out the dark figure walking down the dirt road. He raised a hand to wave at Frederick. He wished summer would last forever.

He must have been standing outside the busy Parisian café for at least five minutes now but no one had bothered him about it. His hands lay relaxed in his pocket, very much in contrast with the way his mind was racing.

After plucking up some courage from somewhere, he pushed in the door to the loud coffee shop. Soft jazz was nearly drowned out by the chatter of young men and women enjoying their Saturday evening with a cup of coffee at hand. He flicked his eyes over the small round tables and plush chairs. Almost every single spot was taken. He wandered towards the barista and ordered himself a tea, which he would end up throwing away in any case. The hot beverage was in his hand five minutes later and he turned around to survey the scene once again.

Anyone who noticed his inquisitive gaze stared back at him flirtatiously. That wasn't uncommon. He was, by no means, an unattractive vampire. He smiled apologetically at them before making his way to the corner of the café.

"May I?" he asked while gesturing to the empty chair with his free hand.

The man glanced up from his book absently as he said, "Hmm, oui." Then he went back to reading.

Edward sat down just as he noticed Evans freeze. He met the sharp emerald gaze carefully.

Evans leaned back with a puzzled frown.

Edward took the time to study the man's outward appearance. His hair was shorter now, no longer hiding his eyes. He wore spectacles too, the thick framed kind. He looked much more put together in his blazer and collared shirt, quite dissimilar to that ratty shirt and jeans he had worn during their first encounter.

Evans turned his attention back to his book hesitantly. But it was evident from his stiff position that his mind was troubled.

"We met in Forks," Edward offered.

Evans did not look up. "I remember," he murmured.

Edward pretended to take a sip of tea while Evans pretended to read.

It had been nearly ten years since their first meeting. And Edward had wondered about him for all that time. He had wondered what other trouble had caught up with Evans and if the man had had to cope with other unnatural pain. He supposed he had to wonder no more.

They sat in each other's silent company for half an hour. Edward had left Forks a couple years after his graduation. He couldn't stand seeing Bella and Jacob make a life there. No one opposed him when he left. He just needed some time alone, that was all. Maybe, once Bella's lifetime was over, he could put everything behind him. So he had been traveling through Europe aimlessly, enjoying the sun in private and the beautiful people in public.

He would have never imagined that an impromptu stroll through Paris would lead to this meeting.

Evans closed his book and looked at Edward one last time before standing up. Edward didn't move to do the same. He did not want to startle Evans unnecessarily.

He blinked twice when his lukewarm, neglected cup of tea that sat on the table was lifted up and then placed back down, being weighed. He glanced up with an inquisitive frown.

Evans had arched a brow in derision, obviously noticing the fact that the cup was full.

Edward smiled sheepishly.

Evans opened his mouth as though he was about to say something. But he snapped his teeth shut on second thought. He picked up the cup again and tilted his head.

Edward nodded once.

"Merci," Evans said before turning away and walking out, leaving the amused vampire to stare after him.

They met again the next day, same place and same time.

Evans acknowledged the cup of tea when it was placed in front of him. He exhaled slowly, almost a sigh, before reaching out. He took a sip and nodded at Edward to sit down.

Then they lapsed into their silence. Edward didn't feel as uncomfortable that evening. He had his elbow against the table and his chin propped up on his hand while he watched Evans read. He wished he could hear some of the thoughts in this mysterious man's mind. It would, no doubt, be interesting and different. But he didn't dwell on that. "I'm sightseeing for a few weeks," he said.

"Good for you."

Edward smiled privately before pressing on. "You are Evans?"

"Sure."

"I'm Edward."

And the next day…

"I'm from Chicago."

"Surrey."

And the day after that…

"Did you want cream in your tea?"

"I don't care."

And the next…

"How about sugar?"

"No, thank you."

And days after that even…

"Maybe you could try an orange pekoe-"

"I will force-feed you this damned tea if you don't stop talking."

Edward laughed in disbelief. The first real sentence out of Evans' mouth was an idle threat. He got up off the chair and brushed his coat down. "Would you join me?" he asked graciously.

Evans frowned. "Where?"

"You don't like tea."

Evans glanced away to compose himself, using his book as a pretense to stall. "You noticed that." He didn't pose that as a question. It was more of an observation on Edward's observation. He thumbed through a few pages of the dog-eared book for a moment before closing it firmly. "Where do you propose we go, then?"

"I want to come with you," Edward complained as he looked on enviously at his best friend who was dressed in the most pristine uniform.

"You're still a baby," Frederick smiled. He hadn't meant that as an insult. It was a compliment, rather.

"And you're growing up too quickly," Edward countered. He reached up and fiddled with the hem of Frederick's shirt. "Look at you…"

"I'll bring you souvenirs."

"I know."

Frederick pulled little Edward into a long hug. "I'll miss you. Make sure you miss me too."

"I will…"

"Mind if I smoke?"

"No," said Edward. The two of them were strolling down the nearly deserted roads of the city. Occasional cars passed them on the cobblestone roads. All the shops had closed over an hour ago. The night had turned chilly but a pleasant warm wind kept Evans from shivering.

They didn't really talk about much. They had spent an entire evening together, seeing sights and staring up at beautiful architecture. Edward learnt that Evans was tactile; he was always touching and feeling things, whether it be weathered bricks, metal sculptures, or window panes. He led the way and Edward followed without complaint. Sometimes they would catch each other's eye and look away quickly to avoid any unnecessary exchange of pleasantries. And now they were nearing the end of their day together.

Evans paused on the ornate bridge that spanned over a small creek, leaning against the stone railing to look down at the muddy waters. Edward tilted his head up, noting the yellow moon.

"I never thanked you," Evans murmured as he exhaled swirls of sweet smoke.

Edward shook his head and smiled. "You're welcome."

Evans flicked ash over the bridge. "I want to forget about it," he admitted. "I had forgotten about it."

"I don't blame you." Edward had so many questions to ask. But, noticing Evans' distant look, he realized that he didn't really have the right to ask anything at all. "I was just glad you got out of Forks alive."

"Strange town."

"Strange people," Edward corrected him.

Evans shrugged vaguely. "I've met stranger." He turned around and leaned against the railings with his elbows, tilting his head up to look at the sky as Edward had done a moment ago. "It's nice here."

"Yes."

"I'm leaving tomorrow."

Somehow, Edward wasn't surprised. But that didn't make his disappointment any less potent. He nodded.

Evans dropped the cigarette on the damp pavement and put it out with the heel of his shoe. "It's true what people say," he decided.

"What do people say?"

Evans finally looked up at Edward. It was the first time the vampire had seen a smile on the man's face. It was sad smile, but it was smile nonetheless. "It's like a dream here. Nothing seems real in Paris," he murmured.

Edward didn't know what to say. Every moment he spent with Evans was making him yearn for something more – more words, more thoughts, more…

Evans pushed off the balustrade. "I have had a wonderful time in Paris, Edward. Thank you," he said. "Goodbye."

"Maybe another place?" Edward hoped.

Evans shook his head as he pulled the collar of his coat up. He walked away with his hands in his pockets, keeping his head down to keep warm.

Edward stood beside Frederick's bed with his hands clutched to his stomach and his unblinking eyes trained on the bandaged leg, a gruesome memento from the war.

"Stop staring," Frederick mumbled sleepily.

Edward was startled into looking away while his heart thumped with guilt. "S-sorry."

"What are you doing here?"

He had snuck in through the window because he wasn't allowed into the house. But no one had told him that Frederick had been hurt. No one had told him anything. He turned his back to his friend and wiped his unprecedented tears.

"Go away," Frederick muttered.

Edward scrambled out of the window and down the ivy ladder as fast as he could.