The Eyes of the Moon

by eiluned price

Sometimes one thing changes everything. When Edward encounters Bella in biology class, that one thing sends their destinies spinning in a different direction. A translation of "Les Yeux de la Lune" by Elysabeth. AU.

5. Approach

Chapter 5: Approach

Disclaimer: "Twilight" belongs to Stephenie Meyer; "Les Yeux de la Lune" belongs to Elysabeth.

eiluned price owns the typos, comme d'hab. Let me know.

Chapter 5: Approach

The rest of biology class went by in a haze. I was deep in my own thoughts, musing on what I had just discovered.

In love with Bella Swan. Completely. Totally. Irrevocably.

In love. What an astonishing phrase. What a mind-blowing concept. A concept that, until this second, was thoroughly foreign to me.

I couldn't do anything about it. I didn't want to do anything about it. Never had I ever felt as good … and as frightened … as at this moment. At last I could give a name to what had happened to me. I could finally understand my protective attitude, and I was relieved to be able to explain the reason for my obsession.

I felt good because this emotion was both gentle and powerful, destructive and supportive, ardent, overpowering, pure and absolute. I had believed that I loved my family beyond measure, but it was nothing compared to what I was experiencing right now.

And frightened because I was more afraid of the monster in me than ever before. I had to be even more prudent, to be constantly on my guard. If I harmed Bella, it would be only by accident. A horrifying accident. And I knew what this accident would lead to – I would do much more than curse and reproach myself. I would never recover. I would wish only to die myself.

Astonishingly, I did not question myself about the why. Why was I in love? Why did I love someone who wasn't even the same species as me? Even more, why did I love a blind girl? Why was the lion so captivated by the lamb? A part of me said that I had to ask these questions, to investigate the basis for this love.

But I ignored that part of me. This emotion invaded me, upsetting all my existence, changing forever how I saw the universe. All that was important to me, essential to me, led to one person, and asking why was pointless. It would be like asking why the earth revolved around the sun or contesting the law of gravity. It was impossible to change. All I could do was accept it.

It went without saying that Isabella Swan was the most lovable person in the world, the most deserving of being sheltered and protected. What she didn't deserve was being loved by a killer. What I felt and would always feel was pure and good, but the bad part of me was still there. That I loved didn't make me any less a monster.

What was I going to do? I would love her. But she wouldn't know it. Truth was a slippery slope: she would end up discovering what I was and I would lose her. I didn't want her to fear me, to flee me, to loathe me. I preferred her indifference to her hate. I would stay near her, around her, without her knowing. I would love her in silence, in secret. It was all I could do. If I would truly loved her, I would do everything to hide the truth. She would never, never know.

I would love her and watch over her from afar, watch her mature, to live her own life, a human live. She would have the best life possible. She would be happy - I would make sure of it. She would find a partner in life, and it would not be me. She would have children, perhaps. She would have the life I never did.

I was committing myself to an unrequited love, but the thought of it was so sweet that I was at peace with it. Yes, I could be content with loving her without expecting anything in return. As long as I could follow her, guard her, I would be happy. Happy for her. Her happiness would be mine. She would have a long life of perfect health; I would ask Carlisle what he could do for her. She would experience everything she wanted to; I would make her dreams come true. She would have a full life and die happy.

And when she was gone, I would do what I had to do to join her. For creatures like me loved only once. She was my only impetus for living now, the only person who could give meaning to my non-existence, and I would have no reason to stay on this earth when she was no longer here. She would take my heart into the beyond.

My fate was fixed.

I turned toward the object of all my thoughts and gazed at Bella. How could I have deemed her ordinary-looking that first day? She was anything but. For the first time, I perceived her warmth and soft skin as something other than as a thirsty monster. I loved her gentle heartbeat. It was soothing, no longer enticing, regular, serene, calm. There was no more pleasing sound: proof that she lived, that she was here at my side. Her expression was distracted, dreamy – she was reminiscing about the piano music she had been forced to silence when Banner showed up. She was still thinking about the sweet melody, lost in her memory. How I wished she was thinking of me.

At the end of class, Bella turned in my direction. She hadn't paid any more attention than I had to Banner in the hour that just passed. She was smiling, but still wary.

"Thanks again, Edward."

Hearing her mouth say my name made me shiver.

"It did me good to hear Debussy again," she continued. "He was the one who saved me and –" She clapped a hand over her mouth and grumbled to herself, "I'm saying too much."

What did she mean? Once again, the silence of her mind was unendurable.

She bit her lip, bid me a vague farewell and left at her usual careful pace.

Bella expected nothing more from me. She was enormously touched by my gesture, but felt I could hurt her again without warning. She didn't know how I had been changed in the last hour. She didn't know that she was now my sole reason for existing. She didn't know that never again would I do anything that could make her sad.

I left biology in a trance. As usual, I accompanied her in secret to her house. The walk seemed too short. I didn't want her to go inside, to close the door and block my view of her face. I hated that door which separated me from her – it was a symbol of my relationship to Bella, a door that I could never go through. A door that she would never want to open to me. A door that I could never permit myself to push.

I returned to school to retrieve my Volvo. Rosalie and Emmett were waiting for me inside, one exasperated and the other irritated. My secret routine with Bella intrigued them, and when they saw me slide in behind the wheel, looking haggard, they sat up in their seats.

Emmett furrowed his brow. "What's going on? It looks as if he's seen a werewolf…"

Rosalie feared the worse. "Has he –?"

"I haven't done anything," I interrupted her immediately.

I took off with screeching tires. Their silent hypotheses and questions assailed me all the way home. I knew I should explain what had happened to me, but that could wait until Alice and Jasper returned. Alice already knew, but she wouldn't say anything without my speaking first. The news was going to put us in a delicate situation, and we would have to have another family meeting soon.

But not now. I didn't know how to announce my news. I was being assaulted by all sorts of emotions that were so … human. So bittersweet. I couldn't understand it all. It was too new.

We arrived home and Esme noticed immediately that something had happened to me. She observed my half-tormented, half-dreaming expression, but didn't ask any questions. At least, not aloud. My family was being understanding and patient with me, and I was grateful.

I spent the evening and part of the night on the Internet finding out as much as possible about Braille. Understanding that writing would allow me, I thought, to be closer in a way to Bella. I learned the basics rather quickly – I had a photographic memory, and it was very useful for memorizing the dozens of ideograms. After some hours of study, I wanted to put my knowledge into practice, but I didn't have any Braille books at hand, and I doubted that the Forks library would have any either. I could go to the city, but all the libraries and bookstores would be closed at this hour.

There was a single place in Forks where I could find what I was looking for: Bella's room. I hesitated for a few seconds, but finally impatience overruled my scruples. I wanted to test my new knowledge, and so I would.

I left the house running and crossed the forest. I had been disgusted with myself earlier for breaking into the Swan house, but now that I knew that my love for Bella was the cause, the act no longer seemed as objectionable. I acted out of affection, not an unhealthy obsession. Furthermore, tonight the goal of my visit was strictly educational. I could even sneak out the books, take them home and return them before dawn. I didn't need to even stay in this house.

But once I had climbed up to the window of her room, any notion of leaving disappeared. To see her stretched out on her bed was like a balm for my heart. I realized that I had missed her face. I knew then that a long separation – a trip to visit her mother, for example – would be a torture for me.

I looked at the window and shook my head. Had I not told myself that I would never step through her door? I had avoided the door, but here I was at her window. I laughed silently at myself at my contradictory behavior, then focused on the interior of her room. I wanted to go in just to see her.

Only see her.

I held my breath, aware that in this room were only the lion and lamb. No family to hold me back, no witnesses to my actions. I would be entirely alone with her. I had to be extremely careful.

I raised the window inch by inch, as quietly as possible. I slipped into her room without a sound, more frightened than ever of the monster in me. Was it going to take advantage of being so close to its victim? Was it going to find it irresistible to see her so defenseless, so easy to overpower?

Just hearing her slow, regular breathing calmed my nerves. No. I would not hurt her tonight. I loved that peaceful sound too much to ever disturb it.

I gazed at her dark hair spread out on her pillow, her slender arms, her half-open lips …

Could I really content myself with loving her in secret?

I burned with the need to touch her …

No. I couldn't. Her arms were frail, so fragile, and her body so delicate. One false move and I could break her so easily … No, I couldn't touch her. I had done it to save her from the van and to keep her from pulling away, but that was a matter of reflexes. I had held her only to protect her. But now, this desire to touch her came from the man in me, the man who wanted to embrace her. But what would be for me a tender hug would be for her an iron vise that would crush her bones.

In any case, I would never permit myself to do anything without her consent, even to take her hand or stroke her hair, and I would never get such consent because I would never put her in a position in which she would be confronted with the choice.

Once more, I was being hypocritical. I wouldn't allow myself to touch her without her agreement, but I was spying on her. I was a walking contradiction.

I gave up analyzing myself: love made a person irrational.

Bella was sleeping with her iPod on – she had already transferred the music from the CD I had given her. I would have liked to have known what she was dreaming of, for she had a half-smile on her lips. Perhaps she saw the moon in her dream, the moon that Debussy's notes described for her.

How long did I stand at the foot of her bed watching her sleep? I don't know. Time became relative with Bella Swan. Sleep was something foreign to me. Such a state of lethargy and abandon captivated me, and it was even more fascinating to observe it in the person for whom my heart would have beaten if it could.

With a considerable effort, I managed to tear my gaze away from her sleeping figure and glanced at her bookshelves. By touching them, I was able to read several titles, most of them classic novels. I scanned the CD cases and was surprised to find almost nothing modern. Her musical tastes were eclectic, with artists from all over the world. I'd learned from my observations of her that Bella was interested in foreign cultures. A country's folk music was perhaps her way of "seeing" the people who lived there.

I examined again the notes written on her computer and printed in Braille. I could read only the titles: "Test Compositions." I had guessed correctly on my first visit: they were musical compositions. I couldn't read the notes and the staffs. I still needed to learn musical Braille. The Internet wouldn't help – I had to find an institution that specialized in Braille. Or I could ask Bella to teach me?

Hmm, a bad idea. How would she interpret my intention of learning Braille? Could I convince her that it was merely personal enrichment? No, she would suspect something. And I had to stay away from her. I could ask her nothing.

I would find a way to teach myself, and I would come back here later to decipher these compositions. But – what was I saying? Come back later? Could I allow myself to behave so badly again?

I felt uneasy and excited at the same time. Yes, I would come back. The monster hadn't made an appearance while I was here, so there probably was no danger. This nocturnal visit would not be the last. Such visits would surely be the only times I could observe Bella to my heart's content without drawing notice.

Was I condemned to being only a phantom at the periphery of Bella's existence? Could I aspire to something more … concrete?

Perhaps I could make a compromise with fate. Perhaps I could permit myself to be a little closer to her while maintaining a certain distance.

We could at most be friends. It was better than nothing. Would she want that? Would she want a vampire friend? No.

But if the monster was sleeping for good, would she want Edward? Just Edward? I was tempted to say yes. After all, would she have been so angry if my rejection had left her unmoved? "I believed that there was something special between us in that biology class." She also had been drawn to me, and for once it couldn't be the result of the physical attributes that lured humans to us. She had been drawn to me, only me.

Suddenly, I had a dangerous idea. Dangerous, but I had to try it.

I withdrew into the corner next to the open window. I was ready to flee in case this dangerous idea overwhelmed me. Then, without further ado, I breathed in through my nose.

Her fragrance assaulted me. My throat was on fire and venom filled my mouth. I closed my eyes to concentrate on this scent, to control it, to push it away. I had to get used to this pain, I had to suffer, if I wanted to have any contact with her. I had to tame the temptation.

I watched my beloved stretched out, arms and legs tangled in the covers. Gazing at her helped me repress the pain, but I didn't take another breath. I had tested myself enough.

But I had passed that test, and I knew I could try to win Bella Swan's friendship. Being friends would simplify a lot of things. I wouldn't have to follow her in secret to protect her in Seattle. Yes ... why not? Why not use this trip to Seattle to get closer to her?

The sun was starting to rise behind the clouds and I cursed it for ending my visit. I left Bella unwillingly and returned to the forest. I went home to change clothes and I noticed that my brother and sister hadn't waited for me: the Jeep was no longer in the garage. Carlisle was still at the hospital on his night shift. There was only Esme to see me dash into the house. She wondered where I had spent the night, but again did not question me. To thank her for her understanding and especially to thank her for being who she was, I kissed her on the temple before leaving for school. That pleased her and reassured her too.

I jumped into the Volvo and sped to school. Once I'd parked it, I ran to survey Bella's path. A child had left his tricycle on the sidewalk in front of his house. I put it on the lawn. I saw nothing else on her route that could trip her up so I went to wait at her door. And to imagine that it was hardly two hours ago that I was inside her house ….

Usually, the thoughts inside that house were calm. I had difficulty reading her father's mind, but I could at least clearly sense his emotions. And the same emotion emanated from him every morning: uneasiness about letting Bella leave by herself. But this morning there was another emotion: sadness. I was astonished by it and wanted to know more. I concentrated on that mind that I could not penetrate without effort. Bella was a solid wall. Charlie's mind was like a thick fog in which I could sense thoughts but not see them.

I finally grasped, after a great deal of concentration, the origin of this sadness. Charlie was distressed that Bella was confined to the four walls of the house. She was a solitary girl, but he didn't want her to be isolated because of her handicap. Bella spent the majority of her time in the house, and he wanted her to go out a little, to do what the young people of her age did. This morning, he wanted to discuss his worries with her.

I couldn't see Bella through her father's eyes, I couldn't put myself in his place, but I knew that she was about to leave for school and that Charlie was intercepting her before she stepped through the door. I couldn't see their interaction, but I could hear it.

"Bella …"

"Yes?"

Silence. Her father was hesitating.

"You … Is everything all right at school?"

"Of course, why?"

"You've … you've made some friends?"

Another silence. Bella doubtless guessed what Charlie was worried about, because her response was vague, but positive.

"Some."

"You know, if you want to go out with them, to have a little fun, I don't see any problem."

"I don't need to go out, Dad."

"Still, it'd be good for you to get out of the house for a while."

Still more silence. Was Bella realizing that her father wasn't wrong?

"Angela's going to Port Angeles to look for a dress for the dance. I'll go with her."

Due to my surveillance, I had overheard a conversation in which Angela offered to take Bella shopping, but she had politely declined. I realized that to ease her father's worries, Bella was changing her mind. She would go for her father's benefit.

"Well…" Her father approved of this expedition, but something else was troubling him now. "And this dance, do you want to go?"

"I was asked."

"You were?"

I sense her father's happiness. He was relieved that his daughter attracted boys despite her handicap. If he knew that Mike had asked her only as a second choice, he would be less pleased. And if he knew that his daughter had truly attracted a vampire, he would be wild with rage.

"Yes, but I said no."

"Why?" her father said, unable to hide his disappointment.

"Because the dance takes place the same day as my appointment with Dr. Emingford. And in any case, you know that I can't stand that kind of place."

"Oh."

Another flash of sadness. Charlie was unhappy that Bella wouldn't go because she didn't feel comfortable enough to deal with the noise of a dance hall.

I heard the unmistakable sound of a kiss, and thinking of Bella's lips curved in a kiss rocked me.

"I'm off. Have a good day."

"You too, dear."

Bella left, carrying her new cane, and headed for school. She did nothing different, followed her usual routine; there were no changes in her manner, her movements, yet I looked at her in a whole new way that morning. I was transported, lost between happiness and bitterness, excitement and dread.

I followed her once more without her knowledge, thinking about what I had just heard.

Would she always be alone, isolated in her house, by her own choice or not? Did she find it too complicated to leave, to participate in outside activities? Was she solitary by nature or because she had no other option?

If she wanted to go out, she could rarely do it alone, at least without already knowing the place she was going. Without guidance, she couldn't try anything new. Did she value independence so much that it prevented her from asking for help? Or did she fear being a burden?

If we became friends, I could be her guide, and I would make it so that she could go wherever she wanted. Seattle would be only the first of the places that Bella could explore. I would take her to Singapore if she wanted. It would be child's play for me, considering my family's means and contacts. Bella was interested in foreign cultures? She would no longer have to rely just on music to know them. I could allow her to discover for herself any country on the planet - as long as the sun wasn't shining.

Ah, I shouldn't get carried away. I hadn't made friends with her, so I shouldn't think yet about becoming her official guide. In fact, I shouldn't even be harboring the hope of forming some degree of friendship with her. It was arrogant of me.

I was arrogant. But persevering. I wanted to try to be her friend and I would take my chances.

Once at school, I was considering ways to approach her when Bella suddenly provided me with a perfect excuse to do so. A seam of her backpack was on the verge of ripping open and her laptop would fall onto the pavement at any second.

I silently moved close to her and waited for the sound of threads tearing so that I could intervene. Bella felt the movement in her backpack and when she realized that her laptop was going to be damaged, she cried out, "Oh, no!" She tried to stop its fall, but it was useless: I had already grabbed it before it could touch the ground.

"Here it is."

At the sound of my voice, she raised two thin eyebrows in inquiry. "Do you always appear out of nowhere?"

It was a rhetorical question. She took back her laptop with a sincere thank you. She then continued on her way. When she heard my footsteps match hers, she stopped, suspicious.

"Are you following me?" she asked.

If she only knew! I had followed her ceaselessly for weeks. The situation made me laugh despite myself.

"You could say that."

She heard my lighthearted tone and seemed confused by it. And no wonder: for more than a month I had ignored her and for the last two days I seemed to seize on any excuse to talk to her.

"I thought you were supposed to act as if I didn't exist."

I resumed a serious expression.

"I tried."

"And apparently you failed."

"I have failed enough to offer to drive you to Seattle."

The direct route was the quickest.

Bella blinked, incredulous.

"You're joking."

"I am quite serious."

Extremely serious.

Increasingly taken aback, she was silent for a few moments, her lifeless gaze directed up at my face as if she could clear up a mystery.

"What a U-turn …" she murmured. She looked skeptical. "I thought we shouldn't be friends."

"I said we shouldn't be friends, not that I didn't want to be."

She sighed in irritation. "Edward, I'm already in the dark, so could you clear things up for me?"

True, I should be clearer. I should at least warn her that in one way, a lethal way, I was a danger to her. She should stay on her guard with me. I owed her that. I should give her an out in case she ever understood the risk I was to her.

"It would be more … prudent for you not to be my friend."

I couldn't be more precise, seeing all the heads turned in our direction and all the thoughts about us. Our conversation was being listened to: Edward Cullen willingly talking to a student who wasn't a member of his family, that was something new.

Bella couldn't have cared less about the people around us. And I was certain that it wasn't because of her blindness that she wasn't noticing their behavior. It simply didn't matter to her.

She tilted her head to the side, and a little mocking smile appeared on her lips.

"What, are you in the mafia?"

If it were only that easy!

"No."

"Part of a terrorist group?"

"Not that either."

Bella shrugged. "Well, frankly, I don't see the problem then."

The problem was that she saw things only in a human context. She wasn't aware of the supernatural in this world.

Suddenly, she shot me a sharp look. Dead, but sharp.

"Fine, it doesn't matter what you are, I'm taking you at your word, Edward Cullen. That weekend, my father would miss a fishing expedition he had been planning for a long time if he had to drive me to my appointment, so it's very convenient that you're offering to be my chauffeur."

She was clearly challenging me, trying to call my bluff. What she didn't know was that I was absolutely sincere in making such an offer. The real challenge was that we were going to be in the same car for hours and her intoxicating scent could tempt the monster. But I had two weeks to prepare myself. Two weeks to test myself, to strengthen my defenses. Two weeks in which I would no longer ignore Bella Swan.

"Perfect," I said with determination.

The bell announced the start of class, and I turned away from the subject of all my thoughts.

"You really should stay away from me," I murmured as one last warning.

She gave me an easy smile before heading toward her own class. "You don't scare me, Edward."

That was because she didn't know the truth.

At lunch, I was the first to arrive in the cafeteria, and I took a table close to the window, a little aside from all the others. The other students sent me curious looks. I read the thoughts of my brother and sister as they sat down at our usual table.

"What are you doing?" Rosalie grumbled.

"You've been losing your marbles for a while, little brother."

I ignored them and waited for Bella to walk in. Angela was already seated, and like all the other students, she glanced at me furtively. "Strange ... why isn't he with his family today?"

I had captured her attention, and that was what I wanted. I intercepted one of her glances and sent her a friendly smile. It startled her and I made sure that she couldn't tear her eyes from mine. I could be hypnotic when I chose. When I was sure that Angela wouldn't turn away from me, I pointed my chin toward Bella, who was approaching with her tray, and pointed to the seat opposite me. Angela considered her neighbor, then me, and understood.

I liberated her from my hypnotic stare and she exhaled: she hadn't breathed during our mute exchange. She swallowed painfully. Holding the gaze of a vampire was an ordeal.

"Um, Bella?" she said when she had regained her composure.

"Hmm?"

"I think Edward wants you to go see him."

Bella, who was just about to sit down, froze.

"What makes you think that?"

"He's signaling me to direct you to him."

She frowned, and although I couldn't read her thoughts, I was certain that she was reckoning that I wanted to speak to her to withdraw my offer from this morning.

"Oh? Well, I'll go see."

With her tray in hand, Bella headed toward the Cullen table.

"Wait." Angela stopped her. "He isn't with the others. He's in back near the window. All alone."

Bella appeared intrigued with my change in routine, but still walked in my direction. When she reached my table, I smiled at her. I knew she would sense it.

"Why don't you sit with me today?"

"I'd eat with you?" she said, disbelieving.

"You should get to know your official chauffeur a little better."

I wanted to subtly assure her that I would keep my promise.

"You're really going to take me to Seattle?"

I was right – she hadn't taken me seriously.

"I gave you my word," I said solemnly.

She set down her tray and pulled out the chair opposite me. I immediately put on mute the mental cacophony that our encounter was provoking.

"Why this sudden change?" she asked, still disconcerted by my attitude.

It's because I'm desperately in love with you.

"I want to make it up to you."

Her expression became fierce, and she moved to edge of her seat, hands gripping her tray, ready to take flight. "If you're doing this because you feel guilty about the poor handicapped girl, I'm leaving."

That's how she saw my altered behavior? She thought I pitied her?

"No, please, Bella," I said as she stood up. "Don't go." My voice was almost pleading. "Your handicap has nothing to do with it. We can be friends. I want to be. But if you were smart, you'd avoid me."

I had to make her understand that the problem wasn't her, but me, only me.

Bella seemed to relax then, but she was still intrigued. She settled down with her tray and I knew she was giving me the benefit of the doubt.

"So, as long as I'm being not smart, we'll try to be friends?"

Friends … that what I had hoped for. The word wasn't enough for me, but knowing that she wanted that, to go beyond being just classmates, make me euphoric.

"We can try, I suppose. But I'm warning you now that I'm not a good friend for you."

My warning didn't seem to disturb her at all.

"You're repeating yourself." She bit into her sandwich and reflected a moment. "Well, I guess I'm a real idiot since I want to try. To try to be … friends again."

She had one of those mischievous smiles that shook me so much. "A normal person would be really pissed at you after your spectacular rebuff of me. But the Debussy helped make up for that."

She couldn't have been more right: a normal person would have realized long ago that I wasn't someone to spend time with. But her blindness hid that from her, and that was why I should keep reminding her that she should be wary of me. I would have had a guilty conscience if I didn't make the effort to put her on her guard; it would be taking advantage of her handicap.

"So, you're no longer angry with me because of the CD," I said conversationally.

"Let's say that I think it's worth trying to be friends with someone whose has the same eccentric tastes as mine."

She once more tilted her head to the side, her eyes dreamy. Would one day I no longer be frustrated about not being able to read her?

"What are you thinking?" It was the question I had longed to ask since the first time I laid eyes on her.

"I'm putting together the puzzle."

That didn't tell me anything. "Meaning?"

"I'm trying to figure out what you are."

That was very bad.

I held the smile on my face, locking my features, while panic twisted through my body. Of course she was wondering that. She wasn't stupid. I couldn't hope that she would be oblivious to something so obvious even to a blind person.

"Are you having any luck with that?" I asked as lightly as I could manage, but I was in agony. What had she imagined?

"I'd rather you decide to tell me yourself."

"You'll wait a long time," I said curtly.

That didn't seem to bother her.

"I am very patient, don't worry." She took another bite of her sandwich. "Could you do me a favor?"

"That depends," I said warily.

"It's nothing much." She bowed her head, embarrassed. "The next time you decide to ignore me for my own good, could you warn me beforehand? Just so I'm prepared."

It was a confession. A confession that my rejection had affected her. Truly affected. I couldn't help rejoicing in that, because it meant that I mattered to her in some way. Even if I didn't deserve it, I was happy that Bella felt a hundredth – no, a thousandth – of what I felt for her.

"That sounds fair," I said, smiling again. "Then can I have a favor in return?"

"Okay."

"Tell me one theory."

She shook her head obstinately. "I said that I would wait for you to tell me."

"And I said that you would wait indefinitely."

I had discovered another way we were similar. We were both stubborn.

"We could compromise," I suggested. "I'll say if you're hot or cold."

She snorted and leaned across the table. "Mr. Cullen, I doubt that you want to hear my theories while we're in a room filled with students greedy for any bit of gossip."

So whatever she guessed about me, she knew that it shouldn't be public. But she was smiling, so none of her theories could be terrifying. Should I be assured by that, that her suppositions were far from the truth? That should have been my reaction: relief. Instead, I was disappointed. Disappointed that she didn't know me, that she was drawing a portrait of me that was a million miles from the truth. She didn't know me and never would. Wasn't that what I wanted? Wasn't that what I had vowed to myself?

But how could we be real friends if I wasn't honest? I was certain that Bella was honest: being her friend required being transparent, true, authentic. Otherwise she'd walk away. She wouldn't bother spending time with fakes. Hadn't she quietly distanced herself from Jessica? Hadn't she realized how much of a hypocrite she was? Yes, she had understood Jessica's true nature. And that was why Angela alone had earned her esteem, because Angela was completely without pettiness.

What about me? When and how would Bella realize that I had never been entirely honest with her? When she did, would she reject me? Without the shadow of a doubt, yes.

Not wanting to dwell on Bella's probable future rejection of me, I adopted her lighthearted tone.

"Very well. I can wait until next time."

She looked at me in mock surprise. "Who says there'll be a next time? Tomorrow won't bring another of your spectacular changes of heart?"

Her joking tone amused me, even if it masked real reproaches and apprehension.

"Didn't I promise to warn you?"

"Okay." She feigned nonchalance. "If you do, try to do it after the Seattle weekend. It would be a pain to have to find a taxi at the last minute."

I too then leaned across the table, and spoke in a low voice. "You know what, Miss Swan? I don't have the strength to stay away from you anymore."

Silence. A complicit silence.

As we had during that day in biology, we exchanged the same smile.

That's how we left things. Time had passed too quickly, and we had to go back to class. We left each other without ceremony, but we both knew that we would see each other soon: tomorrow at noon, we would take up our conversation again.

To be certain that she fully understood that I wouldn't push her away again, I met her at the door of her history class the next morning.

"Would you like to eat outside?"

It was raining today, but hadn't she said that she liked the rain?

She shrugged, pretending indifference, but I knew that she was hiding her surprise and her … pleasure? that I had come to get her.

"If you want."

I led her outside, to the edge of the forest, under a pine tree whose dense branches blocked the rain.

My suggestion wasn't innocent. I wanted to be alone with her. I didn't want witnesses to our conversation because I intended to bring up the subject of her theories about me. Besides, I wanted to put the monster to the test. In school, it needed to control itself, aware of the danger of appearing in public. It had even controlled itself in the bedroom of its would-be victim. I wanted to see if it would rouse itself in the forest.

In preparation for this, I hadn't visited her bedroom last night. Instead, I had gone hunting even though I wasn't thirsty. I had warned my family of my plans, but since Alice hadn't called, they weren't worried. The night before that, we hadn't heard from her, but my decision to go into her room had been impulsive, and Alice could predict only things that were decided after some reflection. Today, though, my decision was reasoned and calculated. Alice had plenty of time to see something untoward. My cell phone was silent, a good sign.

Emmett and Rosalie were nonetheless on the alert, ready to listen in on what was happening in the forest. They had considered me strange before, but now they thought I was a complete idiot. In contrast, Carlisle thought it courageous of me to confront my temptation and overpower it. He, too, in the past, had struggled with his nature, and had to overpower it so he could do the work he loved to do. He could only agree to my plan, and Emmett and Rosalie trusted his opinion. Carlisle's confidence in me warmed my heart, and I would endeavor to show myself worthy of it.

While Bella sat down and leaned against the trunk of the pine, I took a quick inhalation through my nose.

Holy hell!

Her aroma in the humid forest was even more irresistible than inside.

As I battled the monster, I grabbed onto a tree branch for support, too tightly. It cracked and disintegrated into pieces.

"What's that?"

I hated it, but I had to lie to her. "I stepped on a twig."

Breaking a twig was human, easy, believable. Breaking a thick tree branch, no.

I hoped my voice didn't betray the torment I was enduring. Apparently, I was a good actor, for Bella casually took her lunch out of her knapsack. I focused on her innocent face to find the strength to resist temptation.

It was easier than I expected. The fight didn't last long. A few seconds were enough for me to regain my control. Loving Bella Swan no doubt had something to do with that. My feelings were stronger than the monster. For the moment.

I wouldn't breathe again this hour.

I sat down on a tree stump rather far from her. I would keep a prudent distance.

Bella nibbled at her lunch in silence. Was she asking herself what she was doing out her with what she had probably decided was the strangest student in the entire school?

"So?" I asked, drawing her out of her reverie.

"So, what?"

"Your theories."

I went straight to the point. Beating around the bush wasn't my modus operandi, nor hers.

"You're persistent."

"I'm curious."

"No, you're … anxious."

She was right, but I was too proud to admit it. "Why would I be anxious?"

"Because you're afraid to see how close I am to the truth."

My mood darkened. Nothing escaped her, or nearly so.

"So?" I asked again. I was trying to be patient, but she was taking too much time for my taste.

"Well … bitten by a radioactive spider?"

Disappointment. Was that all she could come up with? Comic books? Her theories went behind normal humanity, but seized on caricatures invented by normal humans.

"Rather a cliché, isn't that?"

"It's crazy, I'll give you that."

She seemed to reflect a bit more. "Exposed to radiation?"

"Colder."

"Umm. Susceptible to kryptonite?"

"Colder." I would have thought her more perspicacious. "I can give you a hint: I'm not a superhero."

She shook with laughter and I realized that she was teasing me. She hadn't really thought that I was a comic-book character. How could she joke about this while I was being consumed by anxiety?

"Wait, wait, I was sharing my sillier theories. I'm getting to the more serious ones."

Her face lost all trace of mockery. She looked at me gravely.

"You're dangerous, Edward."

Shock.

I was mistaken: she was closer to the truth that I had thought. But … if she knew I was dangerous, why didn't I feel her fear, her wariness? Why didn't I detect the warning signs of an imminent flight, even a faster heartbeat?

"Dangerous, but not bad," she clarified.

She smiled at me as if she had sensed my sudden tension and wanted to lighten the atmosphere.

"You're wrong," I contradicted her.

Obviously I was bad. For me, dangerous and bad were identical.

Bella slowly shook her head.

"You're trying to tell me different, but I know I'm right. Somebody who saves someone from death can't be bad. All the more so if that somebody loves Debussy!"

I was grateful to Debussy for opening my eyes to my feelings, but I was resentful that he had clouded Bella Swan's judgment. "The worst psychopaths are big fans of the classics, don't you know?"

"You see yourself as a psychopath?"

"What if I were?"

I waited for her answer, torn in two, wishing that she finally understood and fled, knowing that I would die if she did. God, I was being so melodramatic … so human.

"Insane people always think they're sane. That's not true for you. If you're convinced that you're a psychopath, it means that you aren't. I therefore concluded that if you're dangerous, you don't mean to be. You can't help it, which leads to my second serious theory: you hate what you are."

I tensed at this theory that wasn't really a theory. She wasn't speculating – she believed what she was saying.

She couldn't say what I was, but she was intuitive and observant enough to sense how it affected me.

I realized that I had underestimated her. All this time that I had ignored her, she had made guesses, reflected on my behavior, put together the pieces of the puzzle that I had revealed to her without meaning to, drawn conclusions. Her instincts had not led her astray.

"I'll take your silence for a yes," she said after a moment.

She bit into her sandwich. It was as if our conversation were as anodyne and banal as if we were discussing sports or the weather.

"So, you're dangerous and you hate that part of yourself," she continued. "You hate it so much that you are convinced that I would too if I knew you better, which explains your incredible U-turn after the accident: you preferred to run away from me than to see me run away from you."

I thought back to my behavior since the accident, since the instant she tried to discover more about me during biology class. I had fled because I was endangering her, and because at the time I feared the gossip she might spread about me. Now I realized the primary reason I distanced myself from her wasn't fear of the uncontrollable monster or the possible rumors.

The real reason was that I was afraid of her. Afraid that she would realize that I was deeply evil creature, an aberration of nature, and that she would reject me. Even before I knew I loved her, I feared her rejection. And Bella had understood that more readily than I had. She couldn't suspect that I loved her, but she was perfectly capable of discerning my impulse for self-preservation. It was disconcerting to be analyzed so well by someone who was so different from me.

I tried once more to read her expression, to decipher the smallest trace of fear, but I found nothing. Bella knew that I was dangerous, but she was still here, near me, unafraid.

She again interpreted my silence as a yes.

"So, apparently, I've hit the mark this time too," she said with satisfaction.

I couldn't no longer limit myself to studying her for signs of the fear I expected so much, the logical fear that anybody else would feel in her place. But I had to be absolutely sure, to hear it out loud.

"Aren't you afraid?"

She seemed astonished by the question, as if I was the illogical one in this situation.

"If you hate that part of yourself, I can only be grateful for that."

I was dazed.

"You have extraordinary strength, strength that could be dangerous if used unwisely, but you used to save me, Edward. You used that dangerous part of you to do something good. How could I hate a part of you when it's the reason that I'm alive?"

A thousand and one conflicting sensations hit me at once. I was relieved that she interpreted the accident in this way, that she wasn't really trying to find out what I was. Understanding my non-normality was secondary – instead she wanted to understand my motive for keeping her away, which meant that Edward the person mattered more to her than the wild beast that anyone else would have seen in me. For that I could only love her more.

She knew I was unusual, strange, but she trusted me. I didn't deserve this trust. A blind trust, one could say. This faith in me touched me and tormented me simultaneously.

I was infinitely grateful to her for not fearing me, and I had an insane hope that if she ever came to know the truth about me, she wouldn't run. Perhaps she would be afraid, but she wouldn't run.

At the same time, she was very naïve to be thankful for the dangerous part of me. That part of me had nearly signed her death warrant that first day. I had to find a way to make her understand just what a risk she ran in being around me, but I was too selfish. Too much in love.

I didn't answer her declaration, and perhaps Bella guessed that it had shaken me, because she didn't seek to make me continue this conversation. If she wondered about the origin of my dangerous strength, she didn't insist on finding out. She would wait. The ball was in my court. Except that I had no intention of hitting it back. At least not today.

I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't help feeling liberated. An enormous weight had been taken off my shoulders: Bella had seen the tip of the iceberg of what I was, and although it was only a tiny part of a terrible truth, she wasn't terrified. I allowed myself to be happy for the moment. It was wrong to exult in the confidence she had in me, a confidence that was only the result of her lack of prudence. Any other human discovering this tip of the iceberg would have either taken off running or shouted out that I was dangerous. Perhaps both.

I shook my head, pushing back my guilt. She trusted me? Then I had to endeavor not to betray that trust. To deserve it.

There was a comfortable silence between us. I watched her finish her lunch, more smitten than ever. The only sound was the patter of the rain; it was almost melodious. Based on her peaceful smile and dreamy expression, I would say Bella liked it too,

The alarm of her talking watch told her that the lunch hour was over. I damned this watch for tolling the end of our time together, while Bella stood up.

"Will we have lunch together tomorrow?" she asked.

I noted the apprehension and doubt on her face. Her head was bowed and she twisted the strap of her knapsack nervously. I realized she was still worried that I would reject her. She probably thought that our strange conversation had disturbed me and that I wanted to take a step back. Such was the irony of life: we both feared being pushed away by the other.

"Same time, same tree," I said before leaving her. I turned away from her, but I sense that she was smiling at my back.

In the days that followed, we spoke no more of theories. By silent agreement, we avoided the difficult subject of my identity. Our conversations were carefree and varied, but most often about our common passion: music.

I astonished myself by taking so much enjoyment in our talks. Speaking with humans had always been tedious for me because, first, I knew everything that they were going to say: there was no surprise, no novelty, no discoveries. And it was tiresome to have to be so careful about what I said to humans. Always monitoring my words to avoid saying something suspicious. I constantly had to lie. As it was, not many people talked to us, so I didn't really know what it was to have a conversation with someone who wasn't like me.

I discovered that talking to Bella Swan was always fascinating. For the first time, not knowing what somebody was thinking pleased me. I didn't have to pretend to be interested. Everything that she said, important or not, silly or serious, was something unexpected, original, new. It was strangely educational to hear a human's point of view about certain things, to see life from a perspective that wasn't that of an immortal creature. Even more, I didn't really need to be circumspect in talking with her: Bella knew I was peculiar, and she accepted it. I didn't have to play a human role, to pretend to be normal. I could, up to a certain point, be myself.

She trusted me and it was mutual, for I knew that Bella would never reveal what she knew about me. She didn't know the exact nature of my secret, but she knew that it was crucial that no one found it out. I knew she was pleased that I trusted her, that she even felt privileged to be in my confidence. She knew I had never been as close to anyone outside my family as I was to her. As for me, I was touched that she sought out my company when normally she was so solitary.

It was truly easy to be friends with Bella Swan. It was even easier to fall in love with her more.

My family worried that I was playing a dangerous game, but since several weeks had passed without incident – no gossip, no attempts to kill her – they were willing to be patient. Alice had returned and her indulgent thoughts comforted me. She knew that I wasn't ready to tell everyone the truth and she waited without complaint. Carlisle was proud of me. He had always hoped that we wouldn't lose our humanity completely, that we wouldn't isolate ourselves from the rest of the world. He still didn't know what tied me to Bella, but he had understood that she had succeeded in making me view the human world other than as populated by unwitting victims of an unseen menace.

It was Alice's indulgence, Carlisle's understanding and the patience of everyone else that fortified me in my decision to stay near Bella Swan without constant guilt.

The rest of the week passed this way: I spent the nights watching her sleep and I spent lunch every day in her company. It had become a ritual to meet under the same tall pine. The peaceful spot pleased us both. It was refuge, a shelter from the rest of the world, my vampire world and her human one.

The weekend, though, meant two days without seeing her even through the eyes of our classmates, without being able to talk with her about anything and everything at lunchtime. I would have to content myself with my nocturnal visits. To make up for her absence, I decided to do more research on Braille.

Bella and I discussed many things in our conversations, but never our personal lives. It was another thing we had in common – we didn't like talking about ourselves. Once I had dared to ask her where she got her reading material and she told me that a bookstore in Aberdeen sent her books in Braille by mail. So that's where I planned to go that Saturday. Surely there would be information about musical Braille in this bookstore,

I used the sunny day to hunt in the national park near town. I couldn't take the risk of being in public even if was just leaving the car to walk to the door of the bookstore. In any case, I hadn't drunk all week and I shouldn't tempt fate. Thus it was only after sunset that I headed to Aberdeen.

My cell phone rang while I was on the highway, and I saw on the screen that it was Alice. I had a bad premonition and hastily answered.

"Alice?"

"Edward, where are you?"

My sister's panicked voice made my muscles coil in preparation for the blow to come.

"I'm just about to enter Aberdeen. What's going on?"

"Turn around immediately!"

"Why? What the hell is wrong?"

While I waited for her answer, I obeyed her order. My tires squealed as I made a 180-degree turn and found myself on the other side of the road, followed by blaring horns.

"It's Bella!"

My reaction was immediate: my foot pressed the gas pedal to the floor. In a second, the Volvo was speeding at more than 140 miles an hour.

Something had happened to Bella. Or was going to happen. From my sister's shaking voice, I knew it was something serious.

But what? It couldn't be me, because I was 100 miles from Forks. Nor could it be Peter and Charlotte; they weren't in the vicinity yet. Therefore it was something human. Serious, but human.

I contemplated the possibilities. She was at home, studying, reading, listening to music or writing. What could happen in her house to justify a distress call from Alice?

"What? You've seen her fall on the stairs? Becoming ill?"

"She's not at home, Edward! She's in Port Angeles!"

Port Angeles … Port Angeles! I knew that Bella had changed her mind and decided to go out with Angela. But I hadn't heard her mention it to Angela all week. They had discussed a science competition, coming exams, the approaching vacation, but nothing about Port Angeles. Had they talked by phone today, organized this trip? It was highly likely: this had been the only day in which I was too far away to know her plans.

Dammit, the single day I stayed away from Bella was the day something bad would happen to her? What abominable luck!

"What have you seen?

"Oh, Edward, they … You have to stop them. They're going … you must get there before them!"

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