Author's Note: I only wrote half of this story! Jenna, aka DragonGirl323, is the author of the chapters from Edward's POV; she contributed all of Edward's dialogue; & she gets beta credit for this as well.

The question hung heavy between us. "What now?" It seemed obvious to me that we couldn't just pretend it never happened. How could I ever look at him the same way again? I couldn't. It was difficult to think of something so affectionate as wrong. I closed my eyes, trying to contain my thoughts. I wondered if, when he shut his eyes or looked away from me, he was thinking of Bella. It wouldn't have hurt my feelings, but this wasn't about the kind of love he had with her or that I had with Carlisle. This was about something entirely different, something unlike anything I had ever experienced. I wasn't sure if I could make any sense of it or fully answer Edward's question right now.

"No one can know about this. It could ruin everything," I said finally, looking up at him. "I suppose it's rather absurd of me to even ask if I can confess something to you at this point, isn't it?" It seemed like a silly notion, to be wary of something when the person you were talking to had been inside both your body and mind already.

Edward nodded once. "Agreed." His eyes met mine, his eyebrows twitching slightly as he smiled softly. He brushed my hair away from my face as he spoke. "No, it's not, but you can always confess anything that you want to me."

"I don't even say things like this to Carlisle," I started cautiously. "Well, not in this way. I've been angry at everyone else. I've always secretly thought it was someone else who was doing it. Someone else's choice was always going to break our family apart. I felt burdened with putting us back together at times." I laughed bitterly, but it felt good to finally release these awful thoughts. "Ironic that I'm the one to ruin everything, in the end."

I noticed his jaw clench as I spoke and he tilted his head back when I was finished, gazing out the window. "Just as much of the fault rests on me."

He certainly wasn't innocent, I supposed, but I felt it was more my fault than his. I wasn't sure how to respond. I didn't want to lay here arguing over who was more guilty. I folded my arms across his chest, watching him carefully.

"Don't feel guilty. It makes me feel worse to think that you do." I kissed him lightly on the cheek, giving him a small smile. "I like the way that you hold me," I noted as his arms tightened around me. "You are very tender and sweet. You shouldn't be hurt."

I watched his eyes scan my face, his gaze drifting down over my neck, lingering there before he looked back up into my eyes.

"But I can't force all the blame onto your shoulders," he said, shaking his head. "I won't. In fact, I should be the one taking the blame. I could have stopped it before it even started. I heard your thoughts shift, but I chose to ignore them."

I glanced away from him, staring at the wall. "That isn't what I said to you, though. I couldn't stop my thoughts or my feelings. I chose what I said to you; you know that." When I looked at him, I unconsciously reached up to brush at his hair. "It would be like this every time. We would always feel this way."

Edward turned, staring up at the ceiling. In his silence, I suddenly became aware of everything around us, every sound of the house, leaves blowing across the yard outside, animals in the forest. I had forgotten that I had left the computer on in my office until I heard it hum down into sleep mode at that moment.

"Hearing your thoughts and feelings is one thing," he replied finally, jerking my attention back. "Listening to them come out of your mouth is another. There's a fine line between impulses and choices." His eyes focused back onto mine. "I like holding you."

Even though I had brought it up, I wasn't sure I was ready to talk about that anymore right now. I wondered if he could understand my motivations just as well as he could understand my pleasure and my guilt.

"Do you ever feel just so restrained by it all? I feel like, I don't know, some sort of caged animal at times." I laughed at myself. It sounded silly, but it was true. "It becomes this droll rhythm. It must feel something like a human working on an assembly line: repetitive and mind numbing. It's so funny to me that those wolves," my voice hissed the word on instinct, "call us leeches. We're more like wild cats, I think."

As I felt my frustration rise, Edward's hand slipped down my side, cupping into the dip of my waist and over the curve of my hip, distracting me from becoming too annoyed and sending a shiver through me.

"Wild cats that are forced to appear docile. It's monotonous as well as maddening," he agreed.

"It's not easy to pretend to be perfect all the time. I almost like, I don't know..." His fingers were curling around my hipbone possessively. It stirred my desire, and I wanted to kiss him but thought better of it. I tried to keep talking, focusing on my words. "I almost like thinking it's okay to be complicated and flawed and have just real shear attraction to someone else. I don't believe we're as frozen as some like to think. I think others of our kind latch onto their past so hard in mourning for their humanity that they don't want to change; it's not because they can't."

Edward appeared to be listening to me very carefully. I wondered if that meant he was concentrating on both my words and my thoughts. His eyes were focused on my lips and I licked them slowly. I could feel that it flared his desire as well.

"Pretending to be a flawed human is just as daunting sometimes. Our bodies might be frozen, but I never thought a certain aspect of change was impossible after I was turned."

"If some level of choice wasn't involved, we wouldn't have the diet that we do," I noted. "We choose every day to go against the nature that supposedly controls and freezes us."

He cradled the back of my head with his hand and pulled my lips to his. It left no question that his thoughts matched mine. When his tongue slipped past my lips, desire raced from my mouth and pooled in the cradle of my hips. Now that we had made love, my body knew what it was to miss him, and I craved having him inside of me.

I couldn't stop the soft moan that escaped against his lips. "You should be warned that I am insatiable, my darling Edward," I whispered. It was meant to be a warning though his reaction made it clear he thought it was an invitation.