Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight.

Ch4

I argued with myself as the car devoured the miles all the way in to town. I didn't know why I was doing this; all I knew was that I wanted to see her face again. Now it was nearly midnight when I parked the car a street away and made my way to where she lived. The apartment was dark, and I could make out no conscious thoughts nearby. It seemed that for the most part all the humans in the vicinity were asleep. I stood concealed behind a van parked at the curb outside and considered my options.

Getting into the building would be straightforward enough, but the door to her apartment would be locked. I had no desire to leave a broken door lock in my wake, which would both advertise my presence and scare both women the following morning when they discovered the remains of their home security. The building was old, the outer brick walls decorated with plaster and stonework around each window. Perfect. I walked around the building and glanced up at her apartment window, and jumped. I scaled the brickwork and tested the bedroom window. As I had suspected and hoped, the window had no lock. It was the work of a moment to ease it open and slip inside.

Her scent wrapped itself around me the instant I slid open the window, drifting over me in a glorious wave to beckon me in. I swallowed hard against the surge of venom in my mouth as I stood motionless, watching her as she slept with delicious abandon, Her legs were tangled in the bed sheets, and she clutched a pillow to her chest as if seeking comfort. Her heartbeat drummed a soothing beat against the silence of the room as her scent was carried to me by the puffs of her breath. After a long moment, I realised I could unclench my fists. My instinctive reaction to her scent was ebbing as I allowed myself to acclimate.

The room was neat, she was someone in the habit of putting her clothes and shoes away, but her study desk was a different story. Books and papers were scattered and piled seemingly at random, although I had no doubt that she could be able to lay her hands on what she wanted without an instant's thought. I picked up random pages covered with her looping scrawl: summaries of study texts, an incomplete shopping list, notes to remember lectures and books she had loaned. There was order to her chaos, and I found myself smiling as I sifted through the detritus of her life. The room was decorated in a style that was obviously dictated by a student budget, but it was tasteful all the same. Cheap matching frames held artful prints and cards that provided a splash of colour on the walls, along with a few random photos on the bookshelves. It appeared that her main passion however, was for the books themselves. They were everywhere: on the desk, overflowing the small bookshelf beside it, stacked in piles beside and beneath the bed. I smiled, thinking of the bookshelves that dominated my own room, recognising our common bond.

Standing at the foot of the bed, I studied her sleeping form. What the hell was I doing here? I felt foolish for allowing my curiosity to rule my head like this. I was behaving like a Peeping Tom, I was far worse than that. This was stalking behaviour and I was sickened at the level I had stooped to, all in a bid to satisfy my ego. I stood motionless for a long moment, hoping to hear her thoughts, but again there was silence. Decades of endless babble and at last I had found the peace and quiet I had longed for, only to be thwarted by it.

There was a chair in her room, and so I sat, leaning forward with my elbows on my knees, chin in hand as I studied her. Since I had noticed her in the lecture hall, I had done my level best to ignore her. Her scent had hit me like a battering ram, and it was as if I had been staggering around punch-drunk ever since. I had avoided eye contact, studying her from afar, trying to fathom what it was about her that had so many of the young men so keen to break past her reserve. I had seen her face from the minds of her classmates, assuming that her looks were polished by desire and rose-coloured glasses. Now she was only a few feet away I could look my fill. Had I really thought her average looking? Her hair was a dark tangled web around her face and pillow, gleaming against her pale skin. Her features were relaxed in unconsciousness; her lips slightly parted, her eyelashes fluttering as her mind shifted into REM sleep. I leaned forward in my chair, frowning with concentration. I couldn't even hear her dreams.

I wavered, unsure what to do.

It was impossible for me to hurt her. Now that I knew a scent such as hers could exist, I couldn't imagine my world without it. I wanted her more than I had ever wanted any human. My mouth watered again, and I swallowed the venom down, ignoring its sickly sweet taste.

I looked at her face again. Whatever she was dreaming about, it wasn't peaceful. She was frowning in her sleep now, a small crease appearing between her brows, the kind Esme called the 'I want' line. A breath huffed from between her lips.

"Okay, Mom," she muttered.

My curiosity flared, followed by a surge of self-loathing. Her mind was closed to me, but she had just unknowingly offered me another way in. Peeping Tom, indeed. I shook my head in disgust, and then stood up and stepped towards the window. It gave a faint creak as I slid it further open. I would have to remember some oil for next time, and then shook my head again. Next time? I had to get out of here. I braced my hand on the window frame, preparing to jump out to the ground below.

"Stay," her voice was stronger this time, and my head whipped around to look at her. I froze, looking at her eyes that were still closed. Had she seen me?

She sighed, shifting restlessly before rolling onto her side, a hand fisting the comforter convulsively.

"Please stay," the words were barely a mumble, but I heard them with perfect clarity.

Moving soundlessly I knelt beside the bed, my head level with hers.

"I'll stay," I whispered, my breath fanning across her face.

She smiled, her body curling unconsciously towards me as her eyelashes stopped fluttering and she slipped into a deeper sleep.

I stayed kneeling beside the bed for a long time before I remembered where I was and made my way dazedly back to the chair. I sat with my head in my hands, my mind reeling with possibilities. My life had been unending, unchanging for decades, and now I felt as if I was standing inside a hurricane, the winds of change whipping and snapping at me, demanding action.

She was sleeping peacefully now. I sat and watched, almost drunk with the sight of her. The burn that her scent had ignited was a persistent irritation at the back of my throat, and yet now it was the least of my worries. I took a deep breath, feeling her scent burn its way through my body.

Everyone in my family, myself included, had been in stasis the moment we had each become vampires, our mortality burned away by the fires of transformation. Change for us was rare, but when it happened it was permanent. It had happened like that with Carlisle, a decade later with Rosalie, and the change was love. It had been over eighty years since Carlisle had found Esme, and he still looked at her with the dazzle of first love. Rosalie was the same with Emmett, her love a fierce and protective animal that would never cower, never hold back. Their love would always be like that for them.

And now at last I understood. It would be like that for me too.

I sat watching her sleep until the sky began to lighten.

* * * * *

I got home just after Carlisle had left for the hospital, and changed my clothes quickly. Esme watched me come back downstairs with questioning eyes. She could see the light in my face, the change in my mood, but kept her questions to herself. I gave her a brief nod, thanking her for her tact, unsure what I could have offered by way of explanation.

Alice appeared at the top of the stairs and gave me a beaming smile. She flew down in a blur of speed and stopped in front of me with her hands on hips.

"So, can I talk to her now?" she challenged. Esme's eyes widened as she looked at me with the beginnings of a smile. My solitary state had worried her ever since she had joined the family.

"Not yet," I replied through gritted teeth, glaring at her for exposing what had until now been kept quiet.

Alice gave me an unrepentant grin, turning towards Jasper with a smile as he appeared beside her in the living room, and slid her arm around his waist. "It won't be long now," she announced with satisfaction. "You're going to love her," she nodded towards Esme.

"Really?" Esme breathed, and she stepped towards me to take my hands in hers, her eyes shining. "Edward, this is wonderful."

"Don't you think you're getting ahead of yourselves?" I protested, sighing as Jasper began to laugh.

"You don't mean to say you want to bet against my girl?" he said, nodding his head towards his mate, who nuzzled into his neck with a purr.

"You're that sure of yourself?" I asked Alice, hating the uncertainty I could hear in my voice.

Alice glanced back at me and nodded once. It was enough.

I looked at my watch and felt a surge of frustration. I didn't have to be on campus for another two hours. Two hours of waiting until I could see her. Jasper gave a low growl, and I looked up in surprise.

"Sorry," he said, pulling Alice closer and rubbing his hand up and down her arm in a gesture meant to reassure, "it wasn't me."

"Oh," Alice said in understanding. All eyes turned to me. "Maybe we could go now. You know, hang out," her nose wrinkled as she gave me a mischievous wink. "You never know who you'll run into after all." I stared at her, evaluating the options. Alice's eyes flickered quickly, and I knew she was doing the same.

"Done," she said with satisfaction, "and I'm driving."

Jasper winked at me as he allowed himself to be tugged towards the door. "You heard the lady," he murmured.

I watched as Alice moved with determination. It seemed that all roads lead to Bella.

I followed willingly.

A/N: After Take the Cake, these chapters seem ridiculously short, but I'd rather post something than nothing at all! As always, reviews = love.