Thank you for all the reviews last chapter =) I'm sorry I don't get to answer them all, but I'm really busy.

I forgot to add last time that those last chapters were dedicated to my friend moon(.)witche for being so persistent and eager for the story to begin. And for putting up with the ten or more times I said "I'll finish it tonight!" and then went to sleep.

Also, props to the awesome movie 28 Days Later for supplying the awesome joke that will be employed this chapter.

By the way, if you want to read Edward's POV of the beginning of this chapter, read the one-shot. I myself like reading both points of view, but you don't have to really.

Bella's POV

The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed.

Carl Jung

After I dropped off my camera at home, and paused to take in my living room wall - my greatest pride and joy - I headed off to my bookstore.

That's how I always think of it. My bookstore. Because it's where I always go, it's where I'm always welcome, and I rarely meet anybody in there anyway. Even the shopkeeper just stays in the backroom most of the time. It's like my own little playground of words. Sometimes, after I'm really riled up after reading an exciting part in the story, I like to run up and down the stairs of the place, laughing and spinning with my book in hand.

When there's no one around, of course. I'm sure I look like a monkey on crack...much like when I dance crazily when nobody is watching.

But you know, I'm starting to think that wouldn't matter. I could probably do it naked in the middle of Times Square and still have people look past me. Then again, I hear New York is a jaded place. Maybe I should pick somewhere else for my hyperbole.

With my hoodie pulled up, I began to walk down the street that would lead me to the store. It was a little bit of a walk away, but not too bad. The nicer section of the city was closer to it than my small apartment. And yet, I never really saw anybody in there. Maybe the rich and/or famous didn't have time for books. Or maybe they went to more nationally recognized book stores. I don't know. I rather liked the seclusion though, for all my complaining. I just didn't want the risk of the store going out of business. I had no idea what I would do then. It was like a second - larger - home to me now.

I opened the pull door, and breathed in the cool air conditioning, artificial and clean; such a difference to the warm, heavy, heady night outside.

To my surprise, the owner of the store was there at the counter. She raised her eyebrow at me, a slight smile on her face as she saw me. "Surprise surprise. Bella's here! Hey honey."

I laughed, blushing and ducking my head. "Hey Anne," I said, the name she had told me to call her a long time ago, before walking toward the tall bookshelves, the familiar feeling of wonder spreading across my face at the sight of it all.

"I'm going in the back!" she called. "If you need me."

"Okay," I murmured, though I probably wasn't going to buy anything. Money was still tight despite the paid bills.

I sighed happily as I walked amongst the bound stories, eyes scanning titles. I wasn't sure if I wanted to reread something, or find something new. That was always the most challenging part. So I decided to just pick up all the books I was interested in tonight.

Dreamland by Sarah Dessen. The Beautiful and the Damned by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince by J.K. Rowling. Abarat by Clive Barker. Woman at Point Zero by Nawal El Saadawi. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. Lord of the Rings: Return of the King by J.R.R. Tolkein. Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë. And of course Romeo and Juliet, by that master of English literature, that sorcerer of words: William Shakespeare.

With a happy sigh, I tottered on to my back corner, running into a few shelves along the way; the books that were heavily laden in my arms were interrupting my eye sight.

I took in a deep breath when I reached my corner, eyeing the ground furtively. I refused to let any of the books just fall to the floor. They were much too precious for that. With baited breath, I began to bend my knees, my legs wobbling from the effort of not simply falling to the floor recklessly. As soon as I was on my knees, I quickly lowered my heavy pile of bound pages to the carpet, and released a sigh of relief that they had made it there safely.

I sat cross-legged on the floor, and positioned my books around me, trying to decide what adventure to plunge into first. It was extremely difficult though - as it always was - and I ended up eenie-meenie-minie-mo-ing it. I smiled at the book my finger landed on.

"Hello Harry," I grinned. "So we meet again. What is this now, the hundredth time? Oh well, I could never tire of you."

Biting my lip to suppress my smile, with an excited wiggle I grabbed the book and opened it up to the first page.

To say that was I fast reader would be an understatement. Give me a block of interrupted time and I can finish most books in it, if I have to. The only reason I go slower is because I really want to enjoy the story, soak it in. That's why I can never read a book just once. The first time through, I'm flying, trying to figure out what's going to happen. The second time, I can go slower, and I appreciate it more.

I'd read the Harry Potter series more times than I can count, and had practically memorized it. Strangely enough, though, it's yet to get old.

I had no idea how much time had gone by before I finally got to the infamous train scene, my heart squeezing painfully with excitement when Draco put the spell on Harry to make him fall to the floor.

"You're so stupid Harry!" I whispered harshly, my hands going to the floor and gripping the carpet tightly in my hands, anxiety seeping through my veins. "Why did you even go in there!? And Malfoy, you're a sexy, wanna-be evil beast."

My breath became more ragged when Malfoy broke Harry's nose, annoyance creeping through me. My hands were almost white as they clutched the floor....

"OW!" I screamed as suddenly a shoe crushed my small hand.

The foot immediately retracted itself, and I blinked back the automatic tears of pain, cradling my hand immediately. Ow, ow, ow....

"Oh no!" came from the owner of the foot, his voice deep and full of apology. He crouched down next to me and I turned my head to look up at him.

He had a very handsome face, as was blatantly obvious. Very...perfect. His eyes were bright green, his skin pale and soft looking, his jaw masculine, and his red-brown messy locks falling all over his face. He had the hood of his gray jacket pulled up, shadowing him slightly.

Wait. Brown-red hair. Gray hoodie.

I knew who this punk was.

It was the guy who'd ran into me earlier!

"Excuse me miss, I am so sorry!" he went on, his face full of such sincere apology that I found myself forgiving him against my will. "Are you okay?"

I just stared at him a minute, my hand throbbing, and my mouth pulled down in pain. Forgive, or not forgive? But he seemed really nice, despite everything....and I knew he hadn't done any of it on purpose.

"It's okay," I finally said quietly, softly rubbing my hand, as if coaxing the pain off it with my fingertips. I shook it a bit. Alright, it really hurt. I decided I shouldn't let him off quite so easy. "You're not the first to not notice me. I've been stepped on quite a few times." I smiled hugely at him, noting with smug satisfaction the look of shock upon his face. There. Let him make of that as he would.

I returned my attention back to the book in front of me, expecting him to leave now that he had apologized and I had - for the most part - accepted, along with freaking him out. But to my wonder, he sat down next to me instead.

"I really am sorry," he said again. "Nothing's broken or anything, right?"

I looked up at him in shock. Well... this was breaking routine a whole lot. I hadn't talked to anyone for more than a few words in here in....well, never. And now a handsome stranger was sitting down next to me and keeping up a conversation? It was beyond me.

I suddenly remembered to answer him. "No," I said, trying to carefully conceal my surprise. I don't think it worked. "It might be bruised, but I bruise easily, so no worries."

His full mouth turned down in a frown, and he looked down in shame, his face turned away enough that his hood hid his face from me. I felt an ounce of regret, and decided to just get over my petty grudge.

I reached over and patted his hand. "It's okay," I told him lightly, hoping that he wouldn't feel bad anymore. Seeing that he wasn't going to leave any time soon - I'd yet to discern if that was good or bad or not, but for the moment it seemed fine - I marked my page, and sat the Half-Blood Prince in front of me. "I'm Bella, by the way."

He pulled his hood off, his bronze hair disheveled yet enticingly so, and looked back at me, smiling. He had a gorgeous smile. "That's a pretty name," he told me. To my horror, I flushed. No one had complimented me in...well, a very long time, if ever. Besides my mom.

"I'm Edward."

I held my hand (the uninjured one) out to him to shake. His hand was large, dry, and warm, his grip firm. It felt nice. "Well hello Edward, Stepper-Onner-of-Hands. What brings you to this little book store?" I asked, feeling slightly emboldened by his complimentary, gentlemanly attitude.

"Hiding," he told me, shrugging. I suddenly remembered the onslaught of people that had run into me only moments after he did, and I smirked at him.

"I'm just going to go ahead and safely assume that I don't want to know," I said.

He smiled at me. "Probably." His eyes started to stray to my pile of books and his eyes landed on the one I'd been reading. I watched as his eyes widened. His face suddenly broke out in a huge smile. "High five fellow Harry Potter fan!" Edward laughed, holding his hand up. Surprised but happy, I slapped it, giggling too. This was turning out to be an interesting night.

"It's awesome, isn't it?" I asked excitedly, feeling the same fervor rising in me as it always did when I got the chance to discuss my favorite stories. "I'm so depressed that the series is over. And that people are moving on to other stupid books, like this new one called...erm...I don't even know. But it's stupid. It's about vampires, or something. Which was cool on Buffy, but this...no. I can't believe people are moving on..."

I trailed off, feeling disheartened at my own words, before I suddenly realized that I had actually said them all. To another human being! I blushed deeply, knowing I had said too much.

But when I looked up at Edward, he was grinning at me. "Twilight," he told me quietly.

That seemed to be accurate. I vaguely recalled it, and my face automatically scrunched up in disgust, though I felt an underlying relief that he hadn't minded my rant. "Yeah."

He was still smiling, and his strong jaw was accentuated. I remembered another character closely related to the subject who had been described with a strong jaw... "You know, you kind of look like Cedric Diggory."

Okay, so I was a bit obsessed.

I noticed that he immediately tensed up, and I frowned a little. What was wrong with that? Maybe he hadn't liked Cedric...I didn't understand how, it wasn't like he was really a major character or anything. I hoped I hadn't insulted him in some way though.

He just shrugged, looking uncomfortable, and changed the subject rather randomly.

"So...erm...seen any good movies lately?" he asked, an edge to his tone.

I felt the urge to laugh at the question, but refrained from doing so. Instead, I just smiled and shook my head. "I don't really watch movies," I told him. That was an understatement. Try never. The only times I did was when I was visiting Renée, and she wanted to go see something. "This," I continued, waving my hand around to the book shelves, "Is my movie theater."

"You come here a lot?" he discerned, crossing his arms as he stared at me. His green eyes were quite captivating.

I nodded, feeling more like a loser than ever. I felt myself blushing. He looked like the kind of guy who never had a problem with getting a date every Friday night, and I was the girl that sat alone in the book store. How humiliating. "Or I stay at home and read," I confessed, laughing a little to try to tone down my embarrassment. "I'm a dork."

He just beamed at me, and I immediately felt better about myself.

"I wouldn't exactly call myself 'cool' either," he grinned wryly. I opened my mouth to argue with him, but he had given his attention back to the books that surrounded me, expression intrigued. He looked back at me, seeming slightly nervous. "May I?" he grinned rather awkwardly, nodding toward my formidable stack. I thought that maybe it was because he figured it might be too personal.

"Oh, sure!" I agreed, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. I wanted him to feel comfortable. "I love discussing books anyway. I wish I could more often."

Once again I felt I'd said too much, and bit my lip, but he just smiled, his eyes unreadable but not uncomfortably or hostilely so.

He scooted over to sit cross-legged in front of me instead of next to me, closer to my pile of books while still being able to talk to me head on. He leaned forward slightly to drag the books nearer to him, and as he did so his jeans brushed my own jean-clad knee, sending a tingle up my leg. Oh dear, I was pathetic and desperate.

"Romeo and Juliet," he noted, turning the book over, his mouth pulling down at the corner.

I gaped at his reaction, throwing my hands over my mouth. "You don't like that story!?" I exclaimed, shock coursing through my system.

He shrugged, looking away. "I think that Romeo is a very fickle character. He 'loves' Rosaline, but obviously not that much, because then he falls in love with Juliet's beauty. And I think the love at first sight thing is silly. You can't love someone without knowing them. Maybe you can get a feeling that this might be someone you can fall in love with, but you have to know a person to feel strongly enough to love them."

I frowned. "Well I agree with that. But you're completely missing the point of the story. It's about true love, plain and simple, regardless of how unrealistic it may seem. Sure, they could've taken longer to do it, but that would've taken the play no where and fast. You have to remember the time it was written in too. Shakespeare needed to keep people interested. It's not supposed to be a book, it's a performance. And a story. It doesn't have to make complete sense."

"Maybe. Most good stories do though," he said dismissively, and I scowled. "I still feel only contempt for it. But I can see you'll probably hate me for that." He grinned crookedly at me, and I felt my annoyance creeping away in spite of myself.

"Just watch yourself buster," I warned, and his grinned widened as he set the book aside and grabbed the next one.

"Uh!" he sighed, placing a hand on his chest and closing his eyes. "A girl after my own heart. Lord of the Rings is the most epic adventure ever. I absolutely love it. It has to be my favorite series of all time."

"Well I'm glad I'm not the only nerd," I told him.

He looked up at me sheepishly from under his eyelashes. "I definitely have you beat. Would you believe me if I told you I played Dungeons and Dragons every Thursday night back in high school?"

I thought for a moment, and then shook my head. "Not every Thursday."

"Well I did," he told me firmly.

"Well I was in a Science Fiction and a Creative Writing club. Beat that."

"I already did. Dungeons and Dragons totally beats both of those in the nerd arena any day."

"I disagree."

"I'm sure you do."

"Pride and Prejudice!" he said loudly, cutting off my next statement. "Classic. I do enjoy Ms. Austen's superior wit."

I smiled. "Don't think you'll be getting out of this debate that easily. But I do think it's pretty cool that you've read all these books that I like."

His cheeks turned red a little. "Let's not be too hasty," he told me, picking up the next one. "I haven't read this one. Woman at Point Zero. What's that about? I've never even heard of it."

I gasped. "You should!" I told him vehemently. "It's so wonderful! It's pretty much about how men are controlling butt-heads and a woman with never be truly free until she's dead."

"Cheery," he said dryly, and we shared a laugh. It was so very easy to talk to him. I was sinking into him and his words. I was leaning my neck into my hand, the rest of the world fading around me, as we continued to talk and talk.

Eventually our conversation melded into discussion of our lives.

"So, how long have you lived here?" I asked, curious.

"About four or five years," he shrugged. "Since I was around eighteen. I lived...in Chicago, most of my life."

"Eighteen..." I murmured, doing the mental math in my head. "You're twenty-two?"

He grinned. "I actually recently turned twenty-three. My birthday was in July. What about you?" Suddenly, he turned sheepish, ducking his head. "Actually, don't hit me with a shoe or anything. You don't have to answer. I know women don't like talking about their age."

I laughed out loud. "That's only once they hit their thirties," I teased. "I'm almost twenty-three as well. My birthday's in September."

"Well… early congratulations," he chuckled. They died down pretty quickly. "Any...anyone special you'll be spending it with?"

I rolled my eyes, though I felt a vague hollowness in my heart. "If my mom calls," I said sarcastically. "And if I get up early enough to say hello to the mail man. That's about it." I shrugged. "I don't really care about my birthday. I don't want to do anything."

"So you don't want to spend it with your boyfriend?" he asked nonchalantly, studying his hand. For one wild second I wished that he would care more about the answer.

I gave him a look. "What part of 'if my mom calls', has any connotations of me having a boyfriend? And what about you? Did you spend your birthday with your girlfriend?" I regretted the words as soon as they were out of my mouth. I didn't want him to have a girlfriend, for whatever reason. And I certainly didn't want it confirmed, or to hear that he had spent a special day with her, or anything like that. Some unfamiliar emotions coursed through my veins, coating my mouth in acid and making me inexplicably annoyed and angry. I didn't know what it was.

But he just laughed. "If I had a girlfriend, I'd probably be in big trouble for sitting here and chatting you up. That wouldn't look too good, would it?" He winked, and I felt myself blushing. The bitter taste left my mouth and happiness filled me.

"Hmm..." he mused. "So let me guess. You read all the time. You were in a Science Fiction club and a Creative Writing club...are you an aspiring author?"

I smiled at him. "No, but good guess. I gave up on that dream years and years ago. I could never write as well as those authors that I love. I'm a photographer."

"Really?" he asked, eagerness on his face and in his expression. I felt confused, because no one had really been any kind of enthusiastic toward me, ever. All this attention was unnerving to me. And especially from a handsome man.

"Um, yeah," I said lamely, blushing. I rushed to change the subject. "So what about you? What do you do? Video game designer?" I teased.

It was his turn to seem uncomfortable. "Not exactly," he said tersely. He was silent for a few more moments, half-heartedly picking up a book before discarding it. Finally, he sighed. "I'm an actor," he said.

It took me about two seconds for that to register. And then another second for me to realize who I was really talking to. I didn't watch much TV it was true, but I wasn't living under a rock.

"Oh!" I gasped, my eyes widening in spite of myself. "Your last name's Masen, then?"

He nodded, a slight twist to his mouth.

My heart sunk and my stomach bottomed out violently.

It didn't matter that the couple of hours we'd been talking I'd felt a connection. It didn't matter that it seemed as if he were truly interested. It was one night, right here inside a building. Out there…in the world…we were completely different people. Maybe not in our interests and our thoughts, but in the lives we led. How could someone as famous as him, as handsome as him, as successful as him, as filled with as much potential as him, ever lower themselves to my league?

And when had I began to allow myself to hope for as much?

"It's really no big deal," Edward said quickly, interrupting my spiraling. He scrutinized my face and moved fast to change the subject.

But why did it matter?

In a few hours, he would walk out of my life. I mean, I sort of knew that before…but before I also thought that he might remember me. I'm sure he talked to important people all the time though. He had bigger things to think about than some loser girl he'd met. I wished I didn't know that.

And every time he made me laugh, being able to pull me out of even this deep funk, there was an ache in my chest. Because I realized how much I liked him. I felt…happy. And I hadn't felt happy, really, in a long time.

I felt small, insignificant, worthless, and forgotten. Looking at his perfection only made it worse. I knew how much I would like to see him again. And I knew that wouldn't happen.

"Are you okay?" he finally asked, sounding desperate.

I put on a smile and nodded. "Of course." Not.

I was sure I was just making the situation worse, furthering my chances of being put out of his mind forever - being the sulking, dull thing that I was acting like now. But maybe early separation would be easier.

"Alright, so a giraffe and an elephant walk into a bar and get completely smashed," he said abruptly, and I knew he was just trying to make me laugh again.

In spite of myself I let out a snort. "Really?" I giggled. "An elephant and giraffe? Smashed?"

"Yes," he said seriously, though his eyes danced. "And so the giraffe collapses on the floor, right? The elephant gets up to leave, and the bartender's like, 'Hey wait! You can't leave that lyin' there!' And the elephant turns to look at him and goes… That's not a lion. That's a giraffe!'"

I burst out laughing against my will. "That was so stupid," I giggled hysterically. "And I liked it."

"Really?" he asked. He seemed genuinely surprised. It just made me laugh harder and he started laughing with me.

Eventually, though, I stopped and reality came back and hit me in the face, effectively wiping the smile from it. He sighed.

But it was still too soon when Anne walked around the corner.

"Hey Bella," she said, before stopping upon seeing Edward. Her mouth hung open for a minute before she closed it, shaking her head. I didn't know what it was - seeing me with someone or if she knew who Edward was. "I've got to close up shop now, so…"

"No problem," I said hurriedly. "We'll go. Thanks Anne."

She nodded, just staring as we got up and walked past her. I felt her eyes on my back, watching Edward and I depart. He walked next to me, and neither of us spoke until we were past the chiming door and out into the balmy evening.

I turned to him as we stood on the sidewalk, preparing to say good-bye. I watched as he pulled his hood over his head.

He opened his mouth and I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut. He was about to walk away. He was about to say good-bye. Here it comes…

"Will you be here tomorrow night?" he asked.

"Huh?" I was so bewildered I couldn't think up a better response. I pulled myself together quickly. "Oh, yeah. Why?"

Please say you want to see me again, please say you want to see me again, please say you want to see me again…

He just stared at me as if I was missing something obvious. Then, to my utmost surprise, he blushed. "Well…I thought we could talk some more, I guess …If you don't want me to come back that's fine." He started to laugh, a nervous edge to it. "I guess I'm coming off a little stalkerish."

"No, no!" I rushed to say. I was so relieved… "That's fine. I just didn't think…that you'd want to come back."

"Why?" He had the decency to sound surprised.

I wished he hadn't asked that. Because I knew I didn't want to lie to him. And the truth was embarrassing. I didn't want have to point out what should've been obvious.

I shrugged, and scuffed my shoe on the ground. "Well," I started, feeling uncomfortable. "I mean, you're famous. And I get stepped on because nobody notices me there. I just don't why you'd want to see me again. But, oh well. I'll see you tomorrow anyway, I guess."

Feeling my cheeks burning, I turned and walked away hurriedly.

For the first time in a long time, though, I was excited for the morning and what the day would behold.

EPOV

If I have ever made any important discoveries, it has been owing more to patient attention, than to any other talent.

Isaac Newton

"'Oh David!' she moaned. 'Oh yes!'" I whispered, and Bella and I both started snorting in laughter. "Her body moved and twisted and she moaned his name as their bodies slicked down with sweat. 'Yeah, I like it like that!'"

"That's not the real line Edward!" Bella yelled at me through her laughter. "And you know, this might actually be hot if one was reading on their own. It just sounds stupid out loud." She started laughing again and I joined her, loving the sound of both of our voices mingling together.

I closed the book and set it down, shoving it down the table we were sitting at on the second floor of the book store. "What's up?" I asked her seriously. I had only known her for a few days now, but I knew enough to know that she was distracted by something, despite all her responsive laughs.

"Huh?" she asked, surprised. Her expression turned wry. "You can tell, can you?"

I nodded and waited for her to speak.

She sighed, shoving a hand through her hair. That distracted me for a moment - the smell of strawberries attacked my senses, the sensual movement of her rippling hair catching me off guard. She had let her hair down today instead of putting it up in it's usual ponytail or messy twist and it was diverting me more than it should've. How many times tonight had I had to pull my hand back as I was about to run my hand through it to see if it felt as soft as it looked?

"Well," she sighed, and I immediately replaced my focus. "It's just…well, it's pretty stupid in any case."

"I doubt that," I told her softly. "Go on."

She shrugged, studying the table top, tracing the "wood grain" patterns with her finger on the laminate. "I called my mom today, and she didn't answer. I know that means she just wasn't home, but still, it always makes me…anxious, if I can't be sure that she's alright. Knowing her she might get lost, or run out of gas, or who knows what." She sighed. "At least she has Phil. That's the only reason I can deal with her so far away."

"So she doesn't live around here?" I surmised.

Bella shook her head, sighing again. "My mom Renee used to live in Phoenix - where I grew up - but then she moved to Florida with her minor league baseball husband Phil, because he made the team over there. It used to be easy to get to her, and now I have to rely on phone calls only."

"What about e-mail?" I inquired.

"Oh…uh, I don't have a computer right now," she blushed, and then immediately changed the subject - but I'd already picked up a lot.

She took care of her mother, instead of the other way around. From the way she fretted so intensely, I figured it had always been this way. Her mother, Renee, also seemed to be very childish, perhaps scatter-brained, since Bella was so worried that she needed looking after or else she'd end up in a predicament. Also, I surmised Bella didn't have that much money. Not that that mattered to me, but she seemed embarrassed by it.

"What about you?" she asked. "Where're your parents?"

It was my turn to feel uncomfortable. "Um," I mumbled. How much did I want to tell her? Surely not the ending. Maybe not admit that it was my fault. But enough. "Well, my dad died before I was old enough to even know him, so I don't have any memories of him. And my mom…she died when I was twenty, a few years ago."

"Oh…I'm sorry," Bella said sympathetically, and I could tell from her eyes that she really meant it - it wasn't just a throw away sentiment like with most people. "My dad lives in Washington. Him and my mom split up when I was a year old. But I still go visit him every year, so I don't feel particularly estranged from either of my parents." She sighed. "I worry about him though. He's never gotten over my mom and I don't like the idea of him all alone. I wish he'd find somebody else…" Her eyes glazed over as she looked off in the distance, probably lost in her thoughts.

"He probably will," I assured her. I'd rather focus on her father than my mother. I looked off too.

Suddenly there was the sound of a shutter clicking; a familiar sound.

"Hey!" I cried, looking over at Bella where she grinned mischievously behind her camera that she'd started bringing.

"Well I told you I'm working on my album," she smiled. "You'll just have to deal with being my victim. When I find a good shot I shoot it."

I rolled my eyes and stuck my tongue out childishly at her. She took another picture.

"Now that just wasn't fair."

1 week later

"National Geographic?" I asked, surprised.

Bella nodded enthusiastically. "They go to the most amazing places…I would love to be their photographer. But that wouldn't be for a while anyhow. I still need more practice."

"Well I wouldn't know as you haven't let me see any of your pictures," I said testily.

She blushed and I felt a familiar stirring in my stomach. I wanted to brush my hand along her face and feel the heat. "Well," she said defensively. "I will eventually…when I'm done with the album."

"What about the 'Hope' project you're working on? I can't see any of those either?"

She sighed exasperatedly. "I'm having a hard time finding the perfect picture," she said, her mouth twisting with annoyance. "It's killing me. I had the perfect shot…but it got disrupted," she finished sourly. She sounded so put-out I didn't push the subject.

"What about you Mr. Actor-Man? You never practice any of your scenes for me either."

I smirked at her. "I was born talented. I don't need to practice."

I laughed as she swatted my head, resisting the urge to grab her hand and kiss it. I popped another piece of General Tao's into my mouth, the Chinese that Bella had brought for us tonight. If she wasn't my favorite person in the world before, she definitely was now: undisputedly.

"So you want to travel?" I guessed out loud.

She nodded, smiling as she returned to her own food. "Very much so. I want to go to all of Europe, Africa, and I've always wanted to go to Japan." She laughed. "I blame growing up with anime and manga."

"Gundam Wing was the best."

"Um…no. That show was lame. Sailor Moon all the way dude."

"What crack were you smoking as a child?"

BPOV

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul.
And sings the tune
Without the words,
And never stops at all.

Emily Dickinson

It was the last week of August, and I only had until the beginning of September to find the perfect photograph of hope. I was beginning to lose my own.

But apart from that everything was fine.

More than fine.

And there was no doubt in my mind that was it was the doing of Edward. Edward. I thought the name in my head with relish. I was in love with him. It was weird because I hadn't even named it on my own. My mom was the one that had pointed it out to me last week.

"Hi mom," I said chirpily. Eight o' clock was fast approaching and I couldn't wait to see Edward again.

"Bella!" she responded just as enthusiastically. "How are you?"

I nodded though she couldn't see me. "Pretty…pretty good," I told her honestly. And I really was. I felt happy.

"Any particular reason?" Renee asked slyly. "I can't help but notice how chipper you've sounded lately. Did you land a good job?"

"Mm…not quite," I said, feeling a blush start to form on my cheeks. Never having a boyfriend before was going to make this a really awkward talk with my mom. I hoped she wouldn't pry.

No such luck.

"Then what is it?" she asked, honestly curious. Her voice turned mischievous. "Would a man, perhaps, have anything to do with this?"

"Well…not in the way you think," I hedged. I knew she meant actual relationship. I actually wished that she was right.

"Well what way is it then?" she demanded.

I sighed. "I met a guy, at the book store I always go to," I admitted. "About three weeks ago."

"…And?"

"…And…we talk every night. He keeps coming back."

"Oooh!" Renee squealed. "That's so romantic!! Does he like you? Do you like him?"

I shifted, feeling uncomfortable. "Well…I don't know how he feels about me. But…I really like him."

"How much?" she demanded again.

I sighed. "More than I should," I told her, slumping in my seat dejectedly. "I love talking to him. And every time I think about him I get this weird feeling in my stomach. I have more in common with him than anyone I've ever met… and he's a good person." I sighed again. "I'm lucky to know him. I'm surprised he even wants to know me."

"Oh honey," she said softly. "Of course he does! You're an amazing individual!" I rolled my eyes. She was my mom. She was supposed to say that. "Oh, this is so sweet. My baby is in love!" she said gently, the pride in her voice distinguished.

I sat there, dumbfounded. In love? Me?

With Edward.

I thought of his gorgeous face and his infectious laughter. His crooked grin and the sound of his voice in my ears. The look in his eyes when we agreed on something, and the way he rolled his eyes when we didn't. How…visible, he made me feel.

Of course I was in love with him. How could I not be? He was everything that was perfection. I wished he was mine.

---

As Edward and I were leaving the store that night, we left laughing as usual. It was warm out, but the heat I felt coming from him next to me was warmer, and I wished I could wrap myself around him.

"It's a nice night," he commented, looking around. I hoped he was stalling because he didn't want to leave. That's what I usually did.

I fingered my camera, looking around. "Yeah, it is," I agreed. The moon was on the other side of the building, but I knew he was talking about the weather.

Talking about the weather.

It made me want to laugh.

"Hey Bella, do you…" he suddenly, quickly turning to face me.

"Yes?" I asked hopefully, looking up at him. Gah I was pathetic, but I was wishing with all my might that he would invite me out. It was only eleven. Pretty early for this city.

He opened his mouth but didn't say anything. I waited quietly, and eventually he sighed, shaking his head, and turned his face up to the sky.

That was when I saw it.

My picture.

Hidden behind him was a streetlamp, and the orange glow scattered around the edges of his head. The light blackened his face, leaving only his profile visible, and the gleam of his emerald eyes. They were pointed toward the star-strewn sky.

Wasting no time I hurriedly lifted my camera into place and snapped the shot. He didn't move, so I don't think he heard. He'd taken to playfully glaring at me every time I did this.

But I didn't care. Because I had gotten my shot.

…Oh, he was beautiful.

---

It'd been a month now. A month since we'd first started visiting each other.

And I wanted him more than ever.

I wanted to make a move. I wanted to cast away my shell as the shy, invisible girl and take charge as a fierce and beautiful woman, asking him to be with me. But that wasn't who I was.

To be honest, I was shy. No one before Edward had seen me. I didn't make that much money, I wasn't famous, and I didn't have many prospectives going for me. How was it my place to make him mine? Edward was the sun, and I was the cloud that shied away, scared of hiding him. It wasn't my place to enter his realm.

I contemplated all of this as I made my way to the book store. Because despite all my inadequacies, something had to change. I loved him. I knew that. And it killed me every time I looked at him and wasn't able to say it. I needed to. And soon.

I was going to try to tell him. Tonight. Hopefully. And with every fiber of my being I longed for him to tell me he loved me back.

I really wasn't sure how I was going to be able to handle rejection.

Sighing, I reached for the handle of the book store.

But then there was a sound of feet pounding on pavement, and I looked up to see Edward running toward me. Uh-oh.

Okay, next chapter should come quicker. Their first meeting was necessary to see, so that's why it's so prominent. For those who've read the one-shot, you can guess what happens next =)

Alright, so something is starting soon, with me, moon(.)witche, and another awesome author Raille (Seducing Ms. Swan), and we've already started work on it. When it becomes more concrete I will let you guys know more, so stay tuned!

Please review! Next chappy is when the real fun starts =)

And something else that's new. I'm going to start dedicating each chapter to the person with the most awesome review, because honestly, I get some pretty awesome ones and it doesn't satisfy me enough to read some of them and then just respond going, 'Thanks!' because they deserve more than that. And since this is basically the only thing I can do....haha.

- The Romanticidal Edwardian