Chapter 4: Discovery

Disclaimer: Smeyer owns "Twilight." Elysabeth owns "Les Yeux de la Lune."

eiluned price owns the typos.

Elysabeth thanks you all for reading and sends her regards to all of you who have made clever guesses. She just won't say which ones of you have made the right ones.

Chapter 4: Discovery

The world changed around us while we stood frozen in time. I stagnated, like a pond, flat and still, while everyone else raced on like a swift-running stream, animated, always moving.

I played human as I had always done. I led the same non-existence as before. I had again taken up the endless cycle of human life that we had pursued for decades. It was the life that we had chosen, a life of endless new beginnings. This cycle was no different from all the others, and yet, from the day when I began pretending that Bella Swan was nobody to me, I found it more tedious and bleak than ever before.

The days and weeks that passed were painful. It shouldn't have been so difficult. No, it wasn't normal, but I couldn't help myself: having to ignore her make me sullen and irritable. I was more bad-tempered than normal, more taciturn. More lifeless. But I had to stay away from her. She was in danger just from being in the same school as me. Alice's visions were still cloudy - she couldn't be absolutely certain that I wouldn't be overcome by my thirst. It was that uncertainty that I focused on to keep myself away. For I suffered from having to flee Bella Swan, even more than I did from smelling her intoxicating fragrance.

I forced myself to not make my family suffer too from my bad mood. But they knew. My brothers and sisters felt sorry for me even though they didn't really understand my behavior. I didn't understand it myself.

Esme sensed my loneliness, and her thoughts only heightened my awareness of a sad reality: I was alone. Before Bella Swan's arrival, I had accepted my solitude. I dealt with it. I was used to it, and never sought to change it. It suited me. At least, that's what I believed …

Carlisle, more rational, speculated that it was my thirst for the girl that made me so irritable, that I was like an alcoholic trying to dry out. There was no doubt some truth to his hypothesis.

I was indeed thirsty for her, but not for the reasons he thought.

It was probably this new sort of thirst that pushed me one day to look in on Bella Swan. Just a look. And not even directly. I watched her through the mind of Angela, the only classmate whom Bella really had a tie to. There was nothing wrong in looking at her just a little bit. I needed to make sure that Bella was staying true to her word and keeping silent about the odd aspects of her accident, didn't I? I was just doing my duty as a protector of my family, nothing more.

My eavesdropping allowed to verify that she hadn't lied – my God, had I really missed seeing her face that much? The conversation that she had with Angela was innocent – the giggle that escaped her at one point was like a caress to me. Nothing compromising about my family. Good. To be sure, I listened in again at lunch. Was I wrong, or did she seem melancholy? Was I imagining things, or did she seem as downcast as … me? Bella spoke little and nothing she said concerned me. So much the better. Apparently the accident was all in the past. People had stopped asking her questions. That was a good thing. I was almost reassured. But to be completely certain, I should investigate the situation thoroughly …shouldn't I?

What was at first just a look became daily monitoring. I soon could no longer stop myself from spying on her through the minds of the students surrounding her. I was surprised to find myself watching her least movement. I sought out her pensive expressions, drank in each of her words, whatever they were. I watched her wherever she went. I made it so I could scrutinize her discreetly. I knew that my classmates observed me – the ordinary human couldn't help himself. We attracted attention despite ourselves, and if somebody noticed me spying on Bella Swan, she would hear about it. I could already imagine the comments: "Hey, Cullen's staring at you again, Bella!" And she would ask herself why I ignored her even as I secretly watched her, I had to be prudent. Bella had to believe that I was indifferent to her. Thus I limited myself to watching her through the eyes of others.

I justified my behavior to myself by saying I had to watch her so I wouldn't inadvertently breathe her scent. But … eventually I had to admit the truth: I didn't watch her to control the monster in me or to be certain that she wouldn't talk about me. I spied on her because I still wanted to know her, to take up from where we had left off that morning in biology.

Her routine mesmerized me. Never before had I been so engrossed in the daily lives of humans. I envied their mortality, their soul, their innocence, but their lifestyle held no interest for me. The existence of Bella Swan, however, completely captivated me. The more days that passed, the more my fascination grew. Finally, I could no longer restrict myself to observing her at school. I started to follow her after class. It soon became a habit to walk with her in secret to her house. It then became another to wait outside her house in the morning so I could walk her to school.

I quickly discovered that I wasn't the only person to watch over her secretly. Every morning, or almost, her father followed her from a discreet distance in his patrol car until she was on school grounds. It took me a moment to unlock his mind the first morning I saw him follow Bella, creeping along at five miles an hour. Apparently mental walls were hereditary.

But I didn't need to read him to understand that Charlie was worried about his daughter. For someone with Bella's handicap, walking from home to school was filled with peril, and the accident with the van had made him more nervous about letting her go on her own. There were all sorts of obstacles, easily avoidable for sighted people, but dangerous for Bella: uneven ground, potholes, cars that ran stop signs, passers-by who could jostle her…

Charlie wanted to protect her, but he knew that his daughter wanted autonomy, wanted to manage by herself. Her independence was vitally important to her – I had observed her enough at school to understand that. And Charlie had only to watch her to know that Bella managed perfectly well. She knew the way by heart; she had constructed a mental map of the town and knew to anticipate obstacles. After all, she came here from Phoenix, a huge city where she got around without problem. But Chief Swan couldn't keep himself from watching over her without her knowledge. And I realized that it was the same for me.

After a month, Charlie watched her less and less. He was convinced that his surveillance was superfluous. In fact, it was superfluous because I made it a point of honor that nothing unfortunate happened to Bella Swan. But he didn't know that.

The lion watched over the lamb. Pathetic.

Each morning I inspected her path to school before she left her house. I made sure there were no branches that had fallen on the sidewalk during the night. I assured myself that Bella wouldn't stumble on anything and that nothing would disturb her morning routine.

Then I returned to her house and watched her leave, hidden in the shrubbery or in the heights of a thick evergreen – she couldn't see me, but the neighbors would have found it curious that a high school student was spying on the police chief's daughter.

In the afternoon, after the final bell, I made the same survey in reverse. My vampire speed allowed me to do my job unnoticed and to return to school before Bella had even crossed the Forks High parking lot.

Watching her walk became more and more captivating to me. I found it fascinating to see her act so .. normally. To move with so much ease and grace. Bella lived in a universe of shadows, but she had succeeded in adapting herself, in being like other humans.

Was I not also living in the shadows? Vampires were condemned to an eternal night, far from the world, the real world. My family and I forced ourselves every day to adapt also, to fit in. Bella had managed magnificently. And I admired her for that. Just as we needed strength to not succumb to our killer instincts, Bella also showed strength and tenacity.

I continued thus to observe Bella Swan from a distance, wherever she was. I convinced myself that I wasn't betraying the promise I had made to stay away from her. Technically, I wasn't anywhere near her. I was keeping my word, in my own fashion.

My observations taught me that she excelled in many areas of study. Her blindness was no obstacle for her. She was at the level of my siblings and me in some subjects – and she had the merit of having earned her knowledge. We succeeded in class only because we had studied and restudied the same material for decades. We owed our achievements to repetition. But Bella owed hers to a single lifetime of study and hard work – doubly hard because of her handicap – and that was much more worthy of praise. Once again, I was full of admiration for her.

Going to school every day was no longer a chore. Playing human no longer bored me. Little by little, without my realizing it, my bad humor ebbed. I no longer needed to force myself to smile at my family. I became, in a way, more … light-hearted. All because I allowed myself to spy on Bella Swan.

My family found my new pastime strange – what was so interesting about watching a human walk down the street? But since I seemed less depressed than before, they left me alone.

Alice had said that Bella's future pivoted on me. It was the opposite instead: I turned tirelessly around her. Although I was perfectly aware that my behavior verged on obsessive, I continued to be Bella's shadow.

I took pleasure in this routine in which I kept my promise to stay away while gathering every crumb of knowledge that Bella unwittingly gave me about her life, about her. That was enough for me.

At least it was until the day when I saw in the collective minds of the students that a dance was approaching. This event was in everyone's thoughts. I had never understood the interest in this type of activity. To gather in a group to dance to some deafening racket, to show off before everyone, to mock those whose clothes weren't in the latest style ... what was the enjoyment in all that? In fact, enjoying oneself seemed to be optional; what was more important was to impress the crowd. And look down one's nose at everybody else. What was the point? Rosalie, of course, loved this sort of thing. She eclipsed everyone and derived an almost sick pleasure from it.

I never paid attention to these dances. But then came the day when I discovered that Mike Newton was working up his nerve to ask Bella to go with him. He had already been turned down by Jessica and wanted to console himself by finding a replacement: Bella.

At lunch, I wanted to be a direct witness to the scene that was coming, and so I sat between Rosalie and Emmett. That meant I had a view on Bella's table, but seated between my brother and sister, I gave the impression of participating in their conversation. We were only three today, Jasper and Alice having left to hunt in British Columbia. There was an overabundance of coyotes in the region, and they were wandering into inhabited areas.

Before she left, Alice had made a general survey of the future to assure herself that nothing important was on the horizon. She didn't like being far from us; she was too conscious that her mental radar was an important security measure for us.

"We're going for three days," she announced. "There is nothing new in the future except that Peter and Charlotte are planning to visit us on the last weekend of the month."

Carlisle had been listening intently and Alice understood his tacit question. "They won't be hungry," she said. "They will hunt before coming into the area. You don't need to worry."

My father didn't want to forbid Jasper to see his old friends, but he imposed a condition: non-vegetarians who came to visit couldn't hunt on the Olympic Peninsula. It was a matter of exposure – and ethics.

Alice turned toward me. "If I see anything, I'll call you. Everything will be fine, you'll see."

By "anything," Alice of course was speaking of the possibility that I would succumb to my thirst for Bella.

"Of course everything will be fine," I retorted, annoyed. "And Emmett and Rosalie are here to monitor me."

I hated being watched like a bomb liable to explode at any moment, but I had to convince Alice that I was in good hands. She would never leave if I didn't show that I was sure of myself. Jasper really wanted to go on this hunt, and I understood why: coyotes were much more interesting to chase than elk and deer. And Alice deserved a break from constantly scrutinizing my future.

So they left, leaving me with Rosalie and Emmett. Or at least, I was physically with them until Newton put his plan into motion. After that, I paid attention only to what was going on at Bella's table.

Mike plopped himself in front of Bella, who was sitting, as usual, a little apart from the group. He looked a little cocky.

"You know, the spring dance is coming up," he said.

"I can't help knowing, since everyone's talking about it."

"I was wondering if you wanted to go with me."

I saw through Mike's eyes a dumbfounded Bella. I was certain that she had never been asked to attend such an event.

"Sorry, Mike. I can't."

"You're going with someone else?" he asked.

No, there was nobody else, I would have known otherwise, but there was an offensive incredulity in Newton's voice. As if it was impossible that a blind girl would be asked to a dance by anyone who had another option. I wanted to grab Newton by the throat and throw him against the wall of the cafeteria.

Bella chuckled. "No, Mike, I'm just not going."

Did she think she wasn't worthy or capable of going to a dance? Had she already decided to refuse even before anyone asked her?

My imagination ran wild: I would show her that she, too, could impress the crowd. I could make her dance like everyone else, and she would be stunning no matter what she wore.

"Why not?" the boy persisted.

"I'm going to be in Seattle that weekend."

"You can't put it off?"

"No, I really have to go."

"I see."

Second rejection for Mike in a day. I enjoyed seeing his smug face fall.

"That's too bad," he said. "Maybe next time."

"That would surprise me."

Mike flinched at her tone. He said nothing, but Bella must have guessed that her words could be interpreted as an insult.

"I mean," she said, "I don't like that sort of thing. It's a certain disaster."

"How so?"

"Too many people. Too –" She twisted her hands together, lowering her head, movements that indicated her uneasiness. "Too many obstacles, too much sound. It … it unnerves me."

Ah, Bella did think she wasn't able to attend a dance, but not for the reasons I expected. She wouldn't feel comfortable. A big room filled with dancers and loud music had to be disorienting for someone who couldn't see.

I would personally make sure that nothing bothered her … but she couldn't know it.

"Oh, okay. That's a shame," Newton said, turning away and already thinking of another girl to ask to the dance.

I was sadistically pleased that Newton had been rebuffed. But if Bella hadn't been blind, would she have said yes?

And if she had, what concern would that be of mine?

I felt a very disagreeable pain in my chest. Was that jealousy? Never had I experienced such an emotion. It was a reaction that was so … human. It was disconcerting.

Why was I feeling that way?

To be jealous over some hypothetical future partner was puerile. I was being decidedly ridiculous. I had no reason to be jealous. None. Being jealous implied that I wanted to be take someone else's place I could not want to be that hypothetical partner. It was against nature, against logic, against the laws of the universe. The lion and the lamb could be nothing other than two incompatible creatures, divided by an unbridgeable chasm. But … had I not been defying the laws of nature these last weeks?

I pushed away that thought.

In any case, Bella would not be going to that stupid dance. Why was she going to Seattle, so far away? What was there? And why in hell did I want to know?

Seattle …

I was suddenly as tense as a bowstring. Peter and Charlotte might be there at the same time!

They wouldn't hunt on the Olympic Peninsula out of deference to us, but nothing stopped them from going to Seattle, a city that offered a vast choice of prey, before visiting us. What was the probability that they would choose Bella Swan to satisfy their thirst? One in three million. But this tiny chance meant that I had to be sure that Bella Swan waited until our visitors had left the area.

If I asked Alice to concentrate on Bella, she would tell me if the girl ran a risk or not. But the hunt was a matter of impulse among vampires. Only the most sadistic planned where and whom they would attack. Peter and Charlotte weren't vegetarians, but they weren't twisted either. They hunted when they were thirsty and out of public view, falling upon a convenient victim. Alice couldn't see what they would do because they hadn't decided. When it was a question of hunting, a vampire decided at the last minute, following his instinct and the scents around him. I could have Jasper contact them and ask them politely to avoid Seattle. But would they keep their word? I knew better than anyone how thirst and an appealing scent could overwhelm somebody's will ….

No, I had to stick to my first plan: prevent Bella from going. Hmm. It would be too difficult to do without being noticed. The solution was to follow her without her knowing. But first I had to know the circumstances of her trip to prepare myself. And what if it was sunny this weekend? That would certainly complicate things.

I had to know more, but how? Her classmates didn't know anything about her plans. Once again, I was profoundly frustrated that Bella's mind was inaccessible to me. How could I find what I needed?

Chief Swan.

He knew. He would have to drive her that day. Unless she took the bus?

I looked at the clock on the cafeteria wall. There were 45 minutes left of the lunch hour. It was time enough.

I hesitated a half-second.

Was I being completely paranoid to worry about such a small risk?

No. I wasn't being paranoid. I was being … prudent, that's all.

I left Emmett and Rosalie, who were too preoccupied with gazing into each other's eyes to pay attention to me. I ran to the police station, and heard on the police radio there that Chief Swan was investigating a burglary. I went to the scene, but Charlie's mind wasn't helpful; he was concentrating only on the crime. Charlie Swan would tell me nothing right now, and I was too impatient to wait.

What could I do? While I was asking myself this, I realized that my me were taking to the Swan house. I stopped in front of it, torn. Was it wrong for me to go in? Surely it was. But I had a good reason, didn't I? There could be a note inside, some information somewhere that would shed some light on this trip. Yes, I could go in. It was for the good of the girl.

Fortified by this thought, I pulled out the key hidden under the doormat. I inhaled one last breath of fresh air, air laden with scent of the forest around me. Bella wasn't inside the house, but it was impregnated with her fragrance, and I knew all too well how that affected me.

Inside, the house was silent, modest but comfortable. Nothing was on the floor, and I suspected that it wasn't because of a desire for neatness. Everything was in its place so Bella could negotiate the rooms without stumbling.

I was oddly excited to be in the girl's home. Until this moment, I had let her alone while she was in her house. She left it during the weekdays only to go to school, and she stayed entire weekends inside. I took advantage of the times she was confined to home to go hunting. I would return just in time to be there when she left on Monday morning. The idea of following her inside hadn't seemed to be … sane.

But now I was in her house my common sense disappeared. I was so devoured by curiosity that I went looking for her room.

As I mounted the stairs, I noticed several framed photographs on the wall. That seemed to be typical for humans: they immortalized certain moments of their lives. I had never understood the interest or the need for that. For vampires, each second of our existence was engraved in our memory in photographic detail. We didn't need artificial aids to remember an event. Apparently that wasn't true for humans.

These photos were no doubt destined solely for Charlie's enjoyment, considering his daughter's condition. I scanned the images. In some, her father proudly displayed a big fish, but the majority of the snapshots were of one subject: Bella.

Bella wasn't forthcoming about herself, but I had gathered some bits of information from her answers to her classmates' questions. I had thus learned that, until recently, her visits were just occasional. Her father saw her only during vacations, and their relationship had become distant, almost impersonal.

At least, that's how it seemed on the surface, but I had only to look at these photos to see that Charlie had missed Bella during all those years she lived with her mother. These images had been Charlie's only link to his daughter since he practically never saw her. Charlie wasn't much of a talker, but his actions were unequivocal. Alice was right; Bella was everything to him.

Studying the photos, I could see a newborn grow into a little girl, but there was no recent photo – it was as if Bella had ceased to exist when she was 10. I lingered on an image of a child in a pink tutu awkwardly striking a ballet pose. She was laughing and overflowing with life. Her mischievous, inquisitive eyes were sparkling.

And looking straight into the camera.

I finally got it: Bella had not always been blind. Her father had spread out on the wall the past of a Bella who had in some ways had disappeared forever. He was memorializing the brief time when his daughter could lead the life of any ordinary girl.

I stared into her wide chocolate eyes and was saddened. I had always thought that Bella had been born blind because she seemed so accepting of her condition. If she had never experienced a life in which she could see, she couldn't know what she was missing. But I was wrong.

It seemed terrible to me that a child so full of life would be suddenly thrown into darkness. Her adjustment must have been long and difficult. She would have had to relearn everything, and once more I was struck with admiration for this young woman.

I continued on before these images could trouble me more and I found her room. It was unadorned. I should have expected that. What good was ornamentation to her? Instead, there were many shelves filled with enormous books in Braille. I noticed a great variety of CDs, but all the labels were in Braille as well. It would be impossible for me to discover Bella Swan's taste in music. I was frustrated by this, and recalled my vow to learn Braille. I would rectify my omission soon.

Her bureau was littered with sheets of paper – class notes? music scores? – covered in dots. There was a computer, more sophisticated than her laptop, and a special printer that could produce Braille. On each side of her bed was a table, but instead of a lamp there was a sculpture. Bella liked art? But what good did these statues do her if she couldn't admire them?

I was asking myself these questions when I remembered the point of my visit here. I was disgusted with myself when I realized what I was doing.

I was a voyeur and an obsessive.

Wasn't I stalking her? I had heard it said that what you didn't know couldn't hurt you. Bella didn't know what I was doing, so I shouldn't feel guilty. But I knew it. And I felt reprehensible. Not only was I a vampire ravenous for her blood, I was an obsessed voyeur as well.

I hurried out of her room, repulsed with myself.

Find information about her trip to Seattle, that's all I should do.

However, I discovered nothing conclusive. All I found connected to the trip was a notation on a calendar by Charlie. On the weekend in question, he had crossed out a reminder saying, "Fishing with Harry." Under it, he had written, "Appointment in Seattle." Nothing else. Nothing saying whether his daughter was going alone, for how long, if she was meeting someone, even her destination in the city.

Dissatisfied and still disgusted with my behavior. I left immediately. So. I had to find another way to get information. There was only one option left: interrogate the girl. I had to break my promise not to talk to her again. But did I have a choice? I was trying to make sure she lived, after all.

I had 15 minutes before class started.

I headed to school, taking out my cell phone and punching in a number. Jasper answered even before it rang.

"Yes, Edward?"

I gaped at the receiver. How had he known?

Alice, of course.

I returned the phone to my ear. "I guess you know what I'm going to ask," I said.

"I'll call Peter, but do you really worry that –"

"That their thirst will overwhelm them. Yes. That's why I'm going to follow her to Seattle that weekend. But I would still like you to warn your friends, Jasper."

"Why watch out for her more than some other human? All humans are in danger wherever Charlotte and Peter go. You can't worry about all of them. You are going to make yourself distressed for nothing. Vampires hunt, humans die. There's nothing to be done about it."

"I know. But her .. I don't want her to run the least risk."

I heard him sigh, then Alice's chiming voice demanding his cell phone.

"Edward?"

"Hello, Alice. Do the coyotes taste good?"

"They are bad-tempered and fast. We're enjoying ourselves," she said quickly before turning to another subject. "Oh, Edward, do you not see what you're doing, where all this is going?"

I was going at this moment to school, but I suspected that wasn't what she meant.

"What are you talking about?"

"You still don't understand what is coming? Oh, if only you could see what I see…"

"What? What is going to happen?" I was in an instant panic. What had she seen? Had she envisioned me being overwhelmed by Bella's scent? "Tell me, dammit!"

How I regretted that she was hundreds of miles away, so that I couldn't see her visions!

"Calm down. Nothing unfortunate will occur. To the contrary…"

"Could you please be more precise?"

"You'll understand yourself soon enough."

"I hate it when you do that, Alice!"

She laughed. "Everything's falling into place. It's become clearer. I should have realized from the beginning that this was going to happen. It's obvious now. Your behavior was revealing…"

"I've had it with you!"

I hung up, irritated.

From her teasing tone, I knew that she had seen nothing negative, but being left in the dark disturbed me greatly.

I took a deep breath in an effort to calm myself. I was nearing the school and I had to prepare myself to execute my plan. When Bella left the cafeteria, I called to her.

"Bella?"

It was the first time in more than a month I'd said her name and it made me flinch.

She did the same at the sound of my voice. She stopped and turned in my direction. It was also the first time in more than a month that we were face to face, that I looked at her directly instead of through someone else's mind. I felt such sharp relief that I was shaken.

I steeled myself and approached her. No more hesitating. I had to go straight to the point.

"What's in Seattle?"

"How do you know I'm going to Seattle?" she asked, lifting an eyebrow.

I definitely was making mistake after mistake. I had to get myself out of this mess, and I decided to make a joke about it.

"Gossip spreads quickly, don't you know?"

"I only just mentioned it to Mike, so how could you have known?"

No, joking hadn't worked.

"I – you didn't answer my question."

Her sulky expression was evidence that she was still upset by how I had treated her. I had observed that Bella's features were normally so imbued with gentleness that others didn't notice her brief flashes of anger. But I certainly did, and I was disturbed that I had inspired her scorn.

"You don't even answer me when I say hello, so why would I respond to your questions?"

I felt my face grow sullen. "Hello," I said shortly, as if that could make up for all the times I had ignored her greetings.

She crossed her arms over her chest. Her body language clearly said that she was closing herself off to me. "So, you're no longer pouting? You're talking to me again?"

Was that what I was doing?

"Not really."

"Then why do you care about what's in Seattle?"

I was taken aback, unable to answer that question myself. Could I say, "I care about it because I'm afraid that two vampires are going to drain you?" There would be a good possibility that she'd scamper off like a rabbit.

"I don't know," was my response. It wasn't polite, but there was nothing more true: I didn't know why I was torturing myself for this human who ran only the slightest risk of falling into the hands of Peter and Charlotte.

She shook her head, wary. "You are really hard to keep up with, Edward," she said, sighing. "I'm going to see my new ophthalmologist if you want to know. Happy now?"

What? An ophthalmologist? What was wrong? Was she in pain? Had there in fact been damage from the accident?

"Is there a problem?" I asked, hoping that my worry wasn't too apparent.

"Routine visit. Is there anything else you want to know before you start ignoring me again?"

She was definitely still annoyed by my behavior.

I was again hit by a wave of remorse.

"I'm sorry," I said.

If she only knew how many things I was sorry about! Sorry for wanting to kill you, sorry for being so remote, sorry for ignoring you, sorry for spying on you, sorry for breaking and entering …

"I'm being very rude to you, I know. But it's better this way, really."

"Oh, don't worry, I had merely overestimated you. I had thought we had something … special between us during that bio class, but I was mistaken. It's too complicated, too strange to be friends with a handicapped person, yeah?"

I was astonished. Is that how she interpreted my standoffishness?

"You think I ignore you because of your blindness?"

"Wouldn't be the first time."

"You are a million miles from the truth."

"In that case, what's the problem? What did I do to offend you?"

Oh, Bella, you did nothing. It's not your fault. It's me, only me.

"Why were you so friendly to me only to go off and pretend I don't exist?" she continued.

I lowered my head, ashamed and frustrated. "We can't be friends," I muttered.

"I don't understand."

"It's better that we're not friends."

She seemed to consider my warning, then lashed out: "It's too bad you didn't figure that out earlier. You could have saved yourself all this regret."

"Regret? Regret for what?"

"For not just letting that stupid van squish me!"

I was twice as astonished now. Regret having saved her? It was just the opposite. Saving her life was the one acceptable thing I'd done since I met her.

"You truly think that I regret saving your life?"

"It's clear that you do. I just don't know why –"

I cut her off. "You don't know anything," I said acidly.

She sighed again, then turned and stomped away. She'd had enough of me.

I now knew why she was going to Seattle, but I'd paid a high price for the information: Bella was even more resentful of me. Perhaps it was best that she detested me, all things considered.

Tired of my internal conflict between what I wanted and what I should do, I ditched my next class. I sat in my Volvo and put in a CD. Debussy calmed me a little. I would think about Seattle later.

I was too absorbed by the melody to realize that someone was walking toward my car. It was only when I heard tapping on my window that I looked up.

It was Bella. I stared at her a few seconds, speechless. What did she want with me? And why was her face glowing, smiling, when she had left me in a fit of anger just five minutes ago? Good God, how wonderful it was to see that smile.

I got hold of myself, turned off the stereo and took care to hold my breath as I lowered the window.

Hearing the sound of the glass rubbing against the felt, she spoke feverishly: "Sorry to bother you, but I heard the music and—" Her lifeless eyes now were shining with an emotion whose origin I didn't understand. "Oh, I've looked for this piece in lots of record shops and I have never found it. This version of 'Clair de Lune' is so rare – where can I get it?"

I was stupefied. Bella Swan loved Debussy … Bella Swan, a 21st century teenager, liked Debussy.

"You know "Clair de Lune,'?" I asked in surprise.

Bella's smile vanished at the sound of my voice. "Edward?"

Ouch. I should have known that her smile wasn't for me. She had followed the music to the car without knowing it was mine. I was the last person she expected to encounter, and I was absurdly vexed by that.

"Who else?" I said harshly.

"Sorry. Forget it."

She turned away and was on the point of stomping off even faster than she had before, but I interrupted her. "I'll make you a copy," I told her.

I belatedly realized that I had stupidly had gotten out of my car at an inhuman speed and that I had grabbed her arm. Fortunately it was covered by a sweater.

Where had all my resolutions gone?

"How did you –" she started. "Oh, and what does it matter to you—"

I chose to ignore that she had noticed my quickness.

"Did you hear me?" I said instead. "I will make you a copy."

I released her arm only when I was certain that she would stay.

"Why would you do that?" she asked.

Good question. I hid behind joking once more.

"It's the rare person who appreciates the old classics. It's important to encourage the preservation of culture." I became more serious. "I didn't know that you have an affection for Debussy."

"There's a lot you don't know about me."

"True, and –"

"And it's better that you continue not to know. That's what non-friends do." She jerked away from me. "I'm going to be late. And you are too."

And she left. Again.

I deserved her scorn. She didn't understand my behavior, which wasn't surprising since I didn't understand it myself.

I didn't understand myself, but the fact was that the next day there was a CD on our biology table. I had learned that before setting down her laptop on the table, Bella ran her hand over the surface. It was part of the routine she did before class. And this morning I arranged it so that her fingers would encounter the CD box when she checked the table.

Bella frowned, surprised. Just one touch sufficed for her to guess what I had done.

"Thanks," she said.

She seemed calmer today. Her anger had passed. I saw the astonishment on her face; she hadn't believed that I would make a copy for her.

"It's nothing," I answered.

She caressed the box with reverence, as if it was a treasure.

"Really… thanks. Thank you very much."

Her voice cracked, and I was perturbed. Why so much emotion? It was only a CD. Was she touched because it came from me? I started to hope so.

"Is Banner here yet?" she asked after a few seconds.

"No, why?"

"Because I can't wait."

She hurriedly opened her laptop and inserted the CD. She fished out an iPod from her backpack and yanked out the headphones so she could attach them to the computer. She put the buds in her ears, then pressed a key in Braille that must have been Play.

My vampire hearing allowed me to hear the music begin. Bella skipped the Prélude and the Menuet of the Suite Bergamasque and went directly to the third movement, "Clair de Lune." She closed her eyes and a beatific smile lighted up her face.

"It's been so long," she murmured. "If you only knew how much I've missed seeing."

"I don't follow you."

Bella didn't respond immediately, listening to the notes of the D flat major scale. She smiled at me, and I realized that for the moment she had forgotten her grievances against me. I engraved the memory of her radiant smile in my mind to pore over when I once more had to stay away from her.

Did it really take so little to give her pleasure? My family and I, we took pleasure in cars, houses, islands … Humans, too, coveted material things, if more modest ones. But for Bella, a single piece of music was enough. It would be so simple to make her happy.

"Debussy's work is sensory, above all," she said. "His compositions aim to make the listener experience particular sensations by translating precise impressions into music. He matches colors to notes wonderfully, for example. I can really see the moon in this piece. It's been so long since I've been able to see that I've forgotten what some things look like. Debussy helps me to remember."

I remained silent, struck by her words.

It was so strange to find an echo of myself there, for Debussy helped me remember too. His work evoked human emotions that I had no memory of since I became a creature of the night, cold and stone. To listen to Debussy was to hear long-forgotten sentiments, to be reminded of feelings that I would never have again. It was like having an auditory glimpse of emotions in their raw state, at their purest, their most human. Emotions that had been locked away from me for nearly a century … until now.

I froze.

I was pulled under.

"Clair de Lune" played on, sad and sweet, and I drowned in it. I couldn't name the sensations that swept over me, but they engulfed me. I lost myself in a maelstrom in which the notes of the piano were my only points of reference. I could do nothing except let myself be carried away by the piece as it intensified and reached its height. At this moment, for the first time, I fully understood it. I was living it.

At the last notes, I was pulled back into reality. I emerged overwhelmed, but serene.

How could I not have understood sooner what was happening to me?

Alice's words came back to me: "Edward, do you not see what you're doing, where all this is going?"

What I was feeling was what I had always believed was impossible for me to feel.

It was still night when I came to the surface. Still night for me, but now it was illuminated by the gentle light of the moon. And my moon was sitting next to me, still cradled by the notes of the piano.

I was desperately in love with Isabella Marie Swan.

T/N: Thanks for reading and supporting Anglo-French understanding! (ie, forcing me to look words up in my French dictionary :) )