BPOV

Edward and I stayed up that night. I had lain sprawled across the comfy mass of pillows that had assaulted me earlier, resting my head on my hands whilst he sat Indian style in front of me. I took a moment to actually look at him, as the incidents with the door and pillow fight had delayed that.

Long, vibrant, bronze hair sat messily atop his head, sticking out every which way.

His eyes gleamed lightly with the dull light from the moon, a shimmering emerald colour.

His face was round, but not chubby.

His cheekbones lightly pressed at the skin above them, but they weren't very prominent.

I listed each thing as I noticed it mentally, looking at him contentedly. I smiled when I realized he'd been looking at me the same way, and then blushed. Very willing to get our awkward realization out of the way, I spoke up gently.

"So, you play the piano?"

He looked down, fidgeting and hesitating, "Um…yeah. You heard that?" I laughed lightly, nodding. "I taught myself. I come down here and play sometimes. When I need to...think."

He almost seemed apologetic. It confused me momentarily - he had nothing to be sorry for - before I composed my expression. He looked back up at me then, his own brows furrowing in confusion as he noted my blank expression. He sat like that for a while, looking at me while I looked at him, but soon cleared his throat quietly and looked away again. I scolded myself mentally. You haven't replied yet you idiot!

"Can you play for me?" I asked shyly, my face likely turning redder as I felt the heat creep into it. Blushing had always inconvenienced me, even before I'd moved to this unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people. I remembered one night with my mother, years ago.

I sat in my bedroom, a packet of chocolate chip cookies on my lap and a cup of milk on my bedside table. I had taken the packet from the cupboard downstairs - the one specifically for chocolate, sweets, cookies and biscuits - the night before, and was rather pleased that I'd managed it without getting caught. So I sat in my room, victoriously dipping the cookies in the milk and wolfing them down, lying back on the light green duvet with a smile playing on my lips.

That was, until Renee's voice floated up the stairs to me.

"Bells, do you know where the cookies I bought yesterday went?"

"Crap." That was my first answer, but it was silent. Mental. I grabbed the cookies frantically as I heard footsteps on the stairs, stuffing them under my pillow. I cringed as my door opened, and forced it into an innocent expression as my mother stared at me. She looked a lot like me, but she was prettier. There was too much Charlie in me. I managed to stop my voice breaking as I spoke to her, "I dunno' Mom." It would have been extremely convincing, an impressive lie, if not for the blushing. It coloured my face as I spoke, already making it clear that I wasn't telling the truth. I was normally a horrible liar anyway, but this never helped.

Renee sighed knowingly, "I'm disappointed in you Isabella." She stood there for a moment, looking sadly into my eyes as I tried to hide behind my hair. Eventually I felt her gaze lift though, and she walked out the door.

It seemed like a very common situation, a parent catching a child doing something they weren't supposed to. My mom always took punishment so differently though. Normal parents might shout or tell you off, yet Renee would make it much worse and just make you feel guilty. Remembering my mom and the relationship we shared made me smile despite the fact that would never happen again. She could never catch me doing something wrong; never tell me off; never ground me. It seemed silly that I wished she could, but I knew it was my fault she couldn't. I stopped her being able to. I could have changed all of this.

But here I was, sitting in darkness with a boy I'd met just a few moments ago, and for some reason I didn't want to change that. His velvet voice brought me back to reality, and I grinned at his words.

"Fine," he groaned, running a hand through his hair in defeat, "C'mon."

Edward motioned to the door and I followed him silently, inwardly praising myself for not tripping on anything as we made out way out into the hall. We turned right, walking down a very narrow corridor. There were pictures on the walls, a family. I paused in front of one, studying it momentarily. My foster Mom was there in the background, with a tall man standing beside her. He must have been her husband but I couldn't be sure. I hadn't met him yet. They both smiled widely as they gazed into the camera, but my attention was drawn elsewhere. Edward stood in front of them, a small black-haired girl by his side. She looked happy, smiling like the two people behind her, but Edward was the opposite. Well, not the opposite, just a stark contrast. He was blank. Emotionless. I wondered why, before tearing my gaze from the photograph and realising that he wasn't with me anymore. Frantically, I walked to the end of the corridor and peered 'round the corner, and there he was.

It was strange that I already felt anxious without him, and relieved when he was back in my sight. I ignored the thought, pushing it aside for the moment. He gently pushed down on a gold door-handle directly in front of him as I caught up, attempting to be silent. It squeaked loudly, and both of us froze, listening for sounds of people stirring above us. There was a loud snore and I giggled softly, letting him know I was there. He turned to me and smiled, as he pushed the door down the rest of the way and strode inside.

EPOV

I don't really know why I was talking to her, she just seemed safe. Safe? No-one was safe. Everyone could just pack-up and move on here whenever they wanted. She could be gone tomorrow if she gets adopted. There were people here who were safe though. Alice for one.

Mary Alice Brandon, Mr. and Mrs. Brandon's daughter. Not adopted. Not fostered. She was their real child. It used to upset me how they treated her so differently to the rest of the foster kids they brought home. They loved her. People like Bella and I were substitutes. We were fake. I got past it though.

They had fostered me when I was just a baby, too young to remember what sort of life they took from me. I can't remember my real mother or father either, I don't even know if they're alive. I used to dream of her, my mother. I used to imagine how she'd look and how she'd talk to me. She'd love me, like Alice's parents love her. I envied Alice that. Her love.

Alice never talked to me at first, and I never talked to her. It was easier that way, being left to our own devices. Her parents had been really irritated that we didn't get along, trying to force us to talk, but I never wanted to. It went on like that for years. They'd pair us together for something - helping Mrs. Brandon bake a cake or some other crap - and we'd work at it silently. It started to wear on me though, being so antisocial with her. For a couple of months I would decide to talk to her, and change my mind at the last minute. The weird thing was that her mood changed almost as soon as I did. She'd be so excited, bouncing up and down in her seat, and when I backed out of the plan her face would fall and she'd sulk for the rest of the day.

Eventually, I decided to try to talk to her. I stuck to this decision too, and it was like she already knew. She just came over and chatted to me like we had always been best friends.

"Umm...Mary?"

"Alice." She scowled at me for a moment, as if threatening violence if I didn't comply. She truly was scary sometimes. Since then I've always called her Alice, I wasn't going to risk death. I nodded, and she continued, "Great! Hey Eddie!"

"Don't call me Eddie…" I corrected. I always hated that nickname, Edward was fine.

"Whatever, I'm just glad you've finally made up your mind." She sighed. She seemed really relieved about this too. Why? I had no idea at that point, I still don't get it. "You've been giving me headaches for months Ed."

Since then Alice and I have just stuck together. She'd let me know when her parents were bringing home a new foster child, and she was always right. She could tell when they were leaving too. It was weird, but that was Alice. It was so her.

The one thing that had confused me about Bella, was that Alice never mentioned her. I always steered clear of the new kids, there was no point in befriending them. Alice would always whisper to me, "New kid tomorrow. Six years old, blonde curly hair, a bit mental. Gone in three months." And then she'd smile and prance off to bed. So why hadn't that happened yesterday? She'd seemed a bit off, distracted and fidgety. Either she was worried, or trying to hide something. It must have been the latter. She hid Bella. But…why?

"Wow. It's massive."

I grinned, "Never seen a Grand Piano before?" I walked across the room to the piano placed against the far wall. It was large and black, shining dully in the moonlight. I sat gently on the stool, and ran my fingers over the keys. I made no noise, but it still helped warm up my fingers.

"Nope." She replied, "But my mom used to play classical music around the house. I have my favourites." I turned to her, and she smiled slightly. It didn't reach her eyes though. She was still standing in the doorway, so I waved her in and patted the space beside me on the stool.

Hesitantly, she came over and sat beside me.

I started playing Clair de Lune, not really expecting her to know what it was. I watched they keys intently as my fingers slid over them, biting my lip in concentration. I looked up about a quarter of the way through the song, and Bella's eyes were sparkling. I watched her, confused for a moment, until I got to that one part I was never able to play. It was about two minutes in, and it all started getting too fast. I wasn't looking, so my fingers slipped all the more abruptly, ending the song horribly. I groaned, and a tear slid down Bella's cheek.

She was crying.

"Bella, what-"

I started trying to ask, but she just jumped up from the seat and ran out of the room.

And I just sat there; Like a moron. I just sat there staring at the doorway where she left.

A/N: Reviews get rid of Alice's headaches. You don't want her having any of them do ya'?

Right, first off, I'm really sorry for taking so long.

One word; Eurovision. Yep, I heart Eurovision something shocking, and I've been listening to all the songs non-stop since Friday. The final was Saturday night so of course I had to watch it, and in all of that this sort of didn't happen. (By the way, congrats to Norway! You guys really deserved it. Germany should've been higher, but mneh.)

So I hope this isn't too disappointing. My muse flew out the window -_-