Previously:

I sighed. As if he didn't already know the answer. "Yes Edward. I'll go on date with you."


BPOV

I'm tired of all this nonsense about beauty being only skin-deep. That's deep enough. What do you want - an adorable pancreas?

Jean Kerr, The Snake Has All the Lines

I sighed, sitting on a chair in my own kitchen - for once. I let my head fall back in exasperation, wishing I had the pleasure of being able to fidget with a phone cord, twirling it around my finger. Instead, I had a handheld and was only able to tap impatiently on the counter top.

"C'mon Edward!" I said irritably. I knew I was being whiny and I didn't care. "You have to at least give me a hint of where we're going so I know how to dress!"

"Nope," he said, and I could practically hear the smug grin in his voice.

"Edward."

"Bella?"

"Edward," I suddenly whispered, hoping to use my feminine vulnerability to extract an answer. "Please?"

He sighed, relenting. "I honestly can't tell you Bella," he admitted. "All I have so far is dinner, but I'm having a hard time trying to find anything in this damn city that doesn't have to do with movies or dancing, since I need a break from the former and I know you don't like the latter…though we'll get to that eventually."

"What?" I exclaimed.

He ignored me and continued. "So unless you're willing to take a two or three hour drive to some other city, I'm stuck for now. I mean, we could go to Universal Studios…"

"For a first date?" I giggled. "That seems like something to do later."

"Hm…"

"You'll figure it out," I told him assuredly. "I honestly don't care what we do. I'm fine with a night in."

"No!" he said in frustration. "I'm taking you on a real date."

"Well good luck with that. Call me when you have it figured out."

"I will. I love you."

"Love you too."

"Until later."

"Bye."

I was about to hang up when I heard him shouting, "Wait wait!"

Curious, I put the phone back to my ear. "Yes?"

"Nevermind, I figured it out! Stress of the moment equaling brilliance and all that. I can't believe I didn't think of it before…I just don't get out much. But it's perfect. Be ready at about 5:45, because I'm taking you out to dinner first."

"And again I ask…how should I dress?"

"However you want."

"Will pajamas work?"

He chuckled. "Well, I suppose that's your prerogative, but you'll be quite embarrassed I believe."

I hummed in agreement before I actually took Edward's personality into account of what he would wear on a date. I sighed. "Are you going to wear a suit?"

A pause, and I knew I'd been right. I brought my elbow back in a silent show of victory even as my mind groaned. "Well, I'd been planning on it. I don't have to if you don't want me to though."

"No it's fine," I sighed. "That just means I'll have to wear a dress…and maybe even heels. Small ones. But heels."

"And why is you wearing a dress a bad thing?" he asked excitedly. I could practically see him bouncing up and down, and I rolled my eyes at how easily men were pleased.

"Oh, other than the fact that I'm prone to tripping and giving the world a peep show?" I asked sarcastically.

"I won't let that happen," he said confidently. "The only one who will be doing any peeping is me."

I feigned offense. "Excuse me Edward Masen? Do I seem like the type of girl to put out on the first date?"

"Um…of course not sweetheart. Silly me."

"Damn straight," I muttered. "You're so lucky you answered that right instead of making some crack on how we'd already done it."

"I have been known to have some moments of brilliance." He laughed a moment before I heard him sigh and take in a deep breath. I felt the mood shift from playful to serious.

"What's wrong?" I asked, concerned. I felt my brow furrow, and my fingers drifted up absent-mindedly to inspect the crease.

"Bella," he started quietly. "I really hate that I have to say this. You have no idea how much. But I feel that it wouldn't be fair towards you if I didn't warn you, at the very least. Now, I'm not saying this is sure to happen," he added hastily, "Or that I'm even looking for it to happen or whatever, but I'm just saying that we could be interrupted at some point by some…unwelcome guests. I don't expect it to happen at the c- where we're going, but the probability is slightly higher at dinner. So if it happens, I just want you to be prepared…you know, to either deal with it, or maybe even run with me if the opportunity presents itself?"

"I'm definitely wearing flats then," I muttered. I had completely overlooked this aspect when I was thinking about our date, which was quite foolish of me. But now that he brought it up, it seemed overbearingly logical to be prepared for that.

"I really am sorry," he said unhappily, sounding ashamed.

"It's fine Edward!" I assured. "I knew this going in. Besides, it might be fun to be chased for once…you know, even if nobody is chasing me specifically. Except maybe to kill me."

"I don't think it's going to be all that you're cracking it up to be," he informed me grimly, but I could tell that he felt better about it. "And I do appreciate your lightheartedness about it more than you can know, but try to take it a little seriously. I don't want you to be caught off guard."

I nodded gravely though he couldn't see me. "I'll be on red alert, I promise." He sighed and I gently amended, "I'm prepared to be with you Edward. No matter what it entails. I won't panic. You forewarned me. And that really helped. It'll be fine; I'm not going to run out on you."

"I'm not worried about me," I heard him mutter, but I wish I could've seen his beautiful green eyes, no doubt Bella-melt-worthy, when he whispered, "Thank you."

"So I'll pick you up at 5:45," he reminded me, resuming normal conversation volume. "It's about time I drove my car. I've been neglecting it."

"Like your fridge?" I ribbed, and he hung up on me without saying good-bye. I giggled, and pressed 'end.' I sat in contentment for a moment before I went to put the phone on its charger. Then I turned toward the over-whelming, daunting task of finding something to wear. I groaned.

It was an hour later and I was standing in front of my dresser with every article of clothing that I owned strewn on the floor and my bed, completely stressed out as I had been able to come up with nothing.

I knew what this meant. I was going to have to get really creative and go through my stuff again, or I was going to have to go shopping and hope that I found something in four hours. I snorted. Yeah right. I wasn't that lucky.

I only had one other option open to me.

I sighed as I dialed up my mom. She answered after a couple rings. "Bella!"" she said excitedly. "How are you today?" There was an undertone of suggestiveness in her voice that lended to me the topic I knew she wanted to discuss.

"I'm doing fine Mom," I told her, and decided to cut to the chase. "Except I have this date with Edward tonight and I don't know what to wear."

She started giggling and I grew annoyed. "What?"

"Oh a couple things. First off, his name is Edward? You never told me. I'm partly giggling because whenever I hear the name Edward I automatically think of Edward Masen. I'm sorry, I'm such a girl." My stomach lurched uncomfortably when she said his full name. "Also, I just think this is just pay back for all the times you've sighed and gotten exasperated with me when I'm taking forever to get ready for a date. How long have you been at this Bella?" she asked smugly.

"An hour," I admitted grudgingly.

"Uh-huh. And you haven't gotten anywhere, I assume?"

"…Yes."

"Payback is a funny thing!" she sang. "But anyway, let's get to work. How are you supposed to dress?"

"Well, it's casual I think, but I was still going to wear a dress. Nothing fancy though."

"A dress?" she asked, confused. "That's it? What about that white French Connection dress I bought you last Christmas? I'm sure it still fits."

I stifled a groan. It did. I had seen it in my drawers and promptly thrown it aside. "But Mom, that dress is so short."

"So?" she asked affronted. "It's supposed to be, and you have great legs Bella. It's not going to fly up, I promise the material is solid. And you really need to let go a bit you know. You're a grown woman; embrace your sexuality a little. I'm not telling you to be a hoochie mama now! But let go a little honey. That dress was damn expensive too," she added sternly. "I expect you to wear it."

I sighed like a little kid made to do chores. "Fine," I grumbled. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she said sweetly. "And if you have a brown decorative belt or any brown accessories, I would encourage wearing them with that dress. Have a good time tonight. I'm really happy for you." She got a little uncharacteristically serious at the end and I tried to ignore the implications behind it.

"Thanks Mom. Talk to you later."

"Talk to you later too. Love you sweetie. Bye."

"Take care."

I hung up and dug through my piles of clothes before finding the white dress that stopped above mid-thigh. I frowned while looking at it. I didn't care what my mom said. I didn't think my legs looked so great. But the dress was pretty. It was white, short-sleeved, crocheted. I had nothing else anyway, so I found some clean white underwear and quickly stripped, before going to take a very thorough shower. I scrubbed, shaved everywhere, cleaning up home base a bit, and washed myself down with some special occasion body wash that was sweet-scented and made my skin softer. I'd always made fun of girls for putting so much effort into getting ready for dates, but now I understood. I banged my head against the tiles in my shower. I was such a shut-in dweeb.

I got out and quickly wiped down the mirror so it would defog quicker. I knew I'd be needing its use before long. I went back to my room to put my underwear on and tug on the dress. I looked down at myself, but it wasn't a good enough view. Trudging apprehensively back into my bathroom, I looked in the mirror and tried to objectively appraise the dress. I still wrinkled my nose at my reflection, but it wasn't so bad as I had thought, the dress not quite as dreadfully short as my memory remembered. I mean, it was short. But the dress still looked classy like that. I just hoped the dress wouldn't ride up or anything.

Thankfully, I did discover I had some brown flats and, digging through a shoebox that held all the jewelry I owned, I found a brown bangle. I put it on triumphantly and stood back up, my legs spreading and the dress riding up to my hips. Hm. Apparently I was going to have to stand a little bit more lady-like. Sigh.

I went back to the bathroom and scrutinized my face. It wasn't so terrible but it could definitely use some help. Unfortunately, the only make-up I owned was powder, mascara, and maybe some lip-gloss…I dug around my cabinets and finally found a pink tube of it in the back corner under my box of tampons. Lovely. Oh well, what can you do?

I applied it all and looked at my reflection again. Better. The hair situation though…was tricky. I had no idea what to do. I crossed my arms and nervously tapped my teeth with my fingernail, trying to think of something. I tried to use my artistic vision to mentally apply styles to my hair, but they either didn't seem to fit or I would have no idea how to do them.

I frowned at myself. I really was a loser. I needed to start picking up fashion magazines along with National Geographic. Maybe then I wouldn't be in this situation.

I sighed, giving up for now. I walked into the kitchen to get a yogurt and looked at the clock. "Holy crow!" I shouted when I saw the time. It was four. I had spent four hours getting ready. And I still wasn't done. Sighing, I opened my fridge and pulled out some vanilla yogurt before going to my silverware drawer and pulling it open. I was barely paying attention as I grabbed a spoon but then something else caught my eye. Near the back of the drawer, I had some nice chopsticks that I'd bought to use instead of those cheap ones that come with Asian take-out. What caught my attention was that they were brown.

I pursed my lips, considering. Setting down my yogurt and spoon, I snatched up a pair of the chopsticks and ran to the bathroom to stand in front of the mirror. Watching myself, I carefully pulled my hair up into a bun, before I used one hand to strategically loosen a few strands to frame my face. I thought this was looking good so far. I took one chopstick and stuck it through my bun before taking the other and inserting it on the other side.

Smiling, proud, I dropped my hands.

The chopsticks fell to the floor too, and my hair fell limp, defeated.

My heart sunk, but I decided to try again. I bent over, not caring about the dress riding up right now because I was alone, and repeated the process. I think I knew what was wrong. The chopsticks hadn't been in very tightly before. I had felt that. This time, I jammed them in close to my head. It hurt a little, but there was a satisfying tightness when I was done that told me they wouldn't fall.

I lowered my hands slowly this time, but the bun stayed. I did a little cheer, pleased. I thought it completed the look nicely.

And I was proud of myself. I think this was a milestone for dork girls everywhere. Success!

I didn't look half-bad to be honest.

I skipped back into the kitchen happily to eat my yogurt. As I was sitting down, my phone rang again. Well damn, wasn't my apartment turning into Grand Central Station.

I stalked to the phone and pressed talk. "Hello?" I asked politely. I needed caller ID.

"Erm…hello," I heard Edward say awkwardly, and my heart jumped as the same time that my brain went confused. What was he calling for? We'd be seeing each other soon. "It strikes me that…well, you never actually told me where you live."

I laughed out loud. "We really suck at this don't we?" I smiled. "We don't tell each other anything practical. Ever."

"We'll work on it. Who needs practicality when you have love?"

"Quite the charmer," I grinned, before giving him my address. "Anything else?"

"Didn't mean to bother you," he muttered, affronted.

"This whole 'getting presentable' thing is a lot more frustrating and harder than I ever gave it credit for."

"I'm sorry." I practically heard him grin though he clucked his tongue sympathetically. "I am looking forward to it though."

"You better be," I muttered. "I put a lot of effort into this."

"An hour never seemed so long as it does now. Farewell fair maiden."

"Farewell," I mimicked, rolling my eyes. I still couldn't help but to smile. I glanced at the clock. There only was an hour more.

My smile widened. I was excited for this.

EPOV

"Being in therapy is great. I spend an hour just talking about myself. It's kinda like being the guy on a date ."

Caroline Rhea

I nervously straightened my tie as I looked in the mirror. Glancing at my watch, I saw it was twenty-six minutes until I was supposed to pick up Bella. I'm one of those people who are meticulous about time, so I was going to have to leave soon. But currently I was standing frozen in front of my mirror, nervously smoothing my hair and, when that didn't work, picking at it so maybe it would look purposefully messy. Nope. That never worked. It just looked like I rolled out of bed a second ago. I sighed. Beyond annoying.

Bella lived near the outskirts of the city, and the condos and houses and apartments got smaller as I drove. They didn't look too shabby though, at least from the outside.

It was 5:43 when I parked in front of her apartment complex. She lived on the third floor, and I knew I could get there in two minutes. I took the stairs two at a time (thankfully nobody was around so they didn't see the crazy guy jumping around like a frog out of hell) and I found her number. I looked down at my watch and it was 5:44. I stared at it intensely, my hand raised, and when the numbers changed to 5:45 I rapped sharply on her door three times.

I heard her giggling before she even opened the door.

"Right at 5:45. Really?" she giggled, as she opened the door.

My mouth dropped.

She wasn't wearing heels but she didn't need to. Her legs looked a thousand miles long in the short dress she was wearing. That was all I could stare at for about a minute. I briefly contemplated just pushing her back in her apartment and staying there instead but decided that since I had already made the plans we might as well go. My eyes continued their journey upward. The dress looked knitted, and there were tiny holes throughout. You couldn't really see anything, but it hinted at it. It wasn't low-cut at the chest either, but that made her breasts look bigger somehow. I could tell that she was wearing a white bra. I bit my lip a little as I went upward, settling on her sophisticated chopstick bun and light make-up that enhanced her naturally stunning features. Her cheeks were bright red, but that wasn't make-up.

"You might want to close your mouth before it stays like that," she said shyly.

I quickly closed it, realizing that I was starting to drool as well. Thankfully, she hadn't been able to see that.

"You…look…amazing," I told her, struggling to find the right words. Even those weren't adequate.

She stepped out and closed the door behind her, carrying a small white purse over her shoulder. It dawned on me that she had only opened her door wide enough to let herself out. I hadn't been able to see inside her apartment at all.

"You're not going to invite me in?" I asked, confused.

"Aren't we supposed to be leaving?" she responded, looking as confused as me.

I wrinkled my nose and took her soft hand, leading her down the stairs. As she was standing this close to me, I realized how ravishing she smelled, and I subtly leaned closer to smell more.

"Are you sniffing me?" she giggled.

"Well you shouldn't smell so good," I muttered, blushing at getting caught. We reached the bottom of the stairs and she stood on her tip-toes to kiss my cheek.

"Thanks," she smiled, her eyes bright and happy. She was radiant. I couldn't help but to lean down and kiss her softly. I realized as I leaned back that I now had lip-gloss on my mouth. I wiped it off with the back of my hand as she laughed. I didn't understand how women wore that stuff; it was a horrible texture.

But damn it made her look good.

"I don't know if that's your color," she grinned at me.

The restaurant we were going to was close to the place we were going after, but not too close. It was a popular summer time event and, especially with its season coming to a close, the traffic near it would be horrible. So we were going to walk there after. Bella's shoes looked comfortable enough, or else I probably would've caved into driving. My eyes, drifting to her shoes as I thought and parked, couldn't help but to get caught in the trap of admiring her legs again. In a sitting position, her dress only came down to a little below the top of her thighs, revealing miles of the smooth, pale, luminous skin. I shifted a little, getting uncomfortable below. Obviously, I would need to be keeping my eyes above leg level if I was going to retain any sense of gentlemanly decorum.

As if that would help.

"What kind of restaurant is this?" she asked me curiously as we walked down the street towards it. Thankfully, nobody seemed to be appearing to pay attention to us, and I had my decorative sunglasses on. I was also hoping that maybe, since people and the press were so used to seeing me alone, that the mere fact that I was holding hands with and clearly enjoying the company of a woman would stop anybody from taking a second look. But I could hardly process the people around me when Bella's skin was practically glowing in the afternoon sun. On its own and with darker colors, Bella's skin was like a snowy and creamy white. With her wearing white, it had suddenly become peaches and cream. I desperately wanted to taste her.

I realized she was waiting for an answer. "Look for yourself," I smiled, pointing at the restaurant title. We were close enough to see it now. "Italian."

It was a charming place that I'd been to before, with a rustic stone outside, and the feel of an Italian wine venue on the inside. The lighting was warm and romantic, and the food was authentic and phenomenal.

Bella wrapped her hands around my arm and looked around in awe as we entered the foyer area, and I took my sunglasses off to tuck in my jacket pocket. "Do you like it?" I murmured to her.

"Duh," she said, like I was slow.

I laughed as we approached the young lady at the waiting booth. "We have reservations," I told her. "For six o' clock, under 'Anthony.'"

"Of course, right this way sir," she smiled at me, grabbing two menus. I looked down at Bella as we followed the waitress to meet her questioning gaze. "I usually use my middle names for these type of things," I told her. "It's something my agent told me to do a long time ago and I'm just in the habit of it. I suppose it does make things easier sometimes."

"How liberating," she teased. "I should start doing that. Make myself feel like I'm living on the edge."

I laughed and then sighed.

"Here you are sir," the waitress said, smiling at me. We'd reached a table for two in the less crowded section, thankfully. I didn't normally like eating in crowds, and not for the fan-factor. I just enjoyed privacy greatly, especially while eating. "If there's anything else you need, don't hesitate to ask. I'll be back in a bit to start you off with an appetizer and a drink."

"Thank you," I said amiably, holding out Bella's chair for her and pushing her in when she sat. I took my seat across from her as the waitress walked away.

I was surprised to see Bella scowling. "What?" I asked, concerned.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, nothing I shouldn't have been expecting."

"What do you mean?" I asked, truly worried now.

"Other than the over-the-top flirting that chick was pulling just now? Oh, nothing at all."

"When was she flirting?" I said, confused. "I didn't notice anything."

"That's a relief I suppose," she said, relaxing a bit though the scowl was still on her face.

I took her hand across the table. "You're quite adorable when you're jealous you know," I told her casually, grinning.

"I'm not jealous," she said indignantly. "Just annoyed."

The waitress returned with a plate of freshly baked bread, and two small plates of olive oil with pepper mixed in. "Here you go," she said, setting my plate down first. I also noticed, now that it was pointed out to me, that she was ignoring Bella completely. "What can I get you to start off with to drink?"

"What would you like Bella?" I asked pointedly, squeezing her hand. The waitress turned towards her.

Bella's expression was vaguely smug. "Um…I'll just take a Coke for now please."

"Same," I said, rubbing a small circle on the top of Bella's hand with my finger. That seemed to calm her down nicely.

The waitress walked away again and under the table, Bella hooked her ankle around mine. "Okay…maybe a little jealous. Maybe."

I brought her knuckles to my lips, barely suppressing a smirk.

When we finally got our drinks and were alone again, perusing our menus, Bella suddenly asked. "Why do you always do that? What you did before?"

"What?" I was very confused.

"Well, whenever you talk about your life and how fame affects it, and I make some joke about it or whatever, you laugh at first but then you sigh or get real serious. Why is that?"

"I don't know," I said automatically, before amending my knee-jerk response. "Well, actually I do. I guess…I'm scared that eventually it's going to become too much for you. Especially when you start to actually experience it. And you will eventually Bella," I warned. "It's been good and lucky so far, but the press is always around, and they're always pouncing. The peace is short-lived, I assure you. And when it ends, when it becomes too over-whelming…It can get vicious, it really can. It's not easy, even for me now, and I'm well-used to it and I chose it."

She placed her chin in her hand contemplatively as she looked down at her menu. "I chose it too," she said quietly. "And to be honest, I'll take what happens. I've lived my life too secluded, too back-washed for too long anyway. It's about time something changed. And I know," she continued quickly as I opened my mouth to interrupt, "That that sounds like a short-term mind-set, and it probably is. But I'll learn to deal with it, embrace it even because honestly, you're well worth it." My heart skipped a beat and I swallowed heavily. "I have thought about this you know," she said. "I'm not so delicate as you want to make me out to be. And yeah, it'll take some getting used to. But everything does."

I sat in stunned silence, mulling that over.

The waitress came back to ask of our order. "Yes, I'll take the mushroom ravioli," Bella said brightly, much more brightly than before as she took charge.

They both turned to me. "Um…" I said, blushing slightly. I hadn't actually been looking. "Erm, I'll get the bruschetta chicken," saying the first menu item with words I recognized. Most of the dishes names were in Italian. Their actual ingredients were in English below the name, but I didn't have time for that.

"Excellent choice," the waitress said brightly, and Bella did a mocking slow clap behind her back. I bit my lip to stop from laughing. "Your meals should be ready shortly."

Bella wrinkled her nose when she left. "Anywho," she smiled, leaning forward towards me. Her lips wrapped around the rim of her glass as she took a sip and my eyes followed. "I don't know if you want to talk about it, but I am actually curious about acting. We've only seemed to talk about the bad parts, like the crazy stalkers and paparazzi, but what about the parts that make it worth it?"

I smiled at that question. "It's true. I actually love acting or else I wouldn't put up with the other crap. It started just as a way to make money, and it was a better job than any other I'd had, but I fell in love with it after a while."

"Why?" she asked, curious, leaning towards me. I found myself leaning closer too. We were like magnets.

"Well…" I pursed my lips as I thought how to best explain. "I think a large part of it was that I was beginning to feel guilty about my mother, and the choices that I had made. But whenever I had a role, for however long it went on I was able to really immerse myself in it, become a completely different person. I wasn't me anymore; I no longer had my life, my worries, my troubles. I was just somebody else. And it was refreshing and rewarding. I hated the times when I didn't have a job because to be honest, I was becoming to hate me and I didn't like staying in my skin for so long. It was a wonderful escape. I've only recently stopped looking at it as that though, and more as a journey." I grinned at her, partly because she was starting to look sad at what I was saying before, and partly to show her that she was the reason for the change. "I'm glad to see I still like it. I always half-thought I wouldn't."

"I'm glad too," she said, looking relieved. "I'd hate to be the reason for the end of your career." I smirked. Yes, that'd cause headlines. "That is something that's been making me curious though. I always thought that actors had to be really confident, which stems from…well, liking yourself. I mean, every thespian I've ever met has been, if not cocky, at least very out-going."

I had to smirk again because she'd stumbled on the most convoluted aspect of the job, in terms of me personally. "Oh, I am confident. Always was," I assured her.

"While hating yourself?" she asked in disbelief, raising an eyebrow.

I traced my mouth with my finger as I thought how to explain. "My confidence is, was, quite a strange thing. In truth, it was remarkably shallow. When I stopped to examine it, myself, I found I wasn't very confident at all. So I just didn't stop to examine it, or myself, and voilà! I was quite confident. If you don't think about things, or at least think about all the reasons why they're false, you can believe in just about anything. And apparently it worked." I took a sip of my soda. "We should've gotten wine by the way."

"Yeah, I know, but she came back so soon and put me on the spot; I hadn't even looked at what they had."

"True. I'll ask her for some when she comes back," I guaranteed.

"What's the movie you're working on now about? You've yet to tell me," she said eagerly, but we were interrupted by the arrival of our food. I waited for our server to walk away before starting again.

"It's kind of a realistic drama. A man and his wife get in this huge argument one night, just a blow-out, and the wife leaves the house to go for a drive, but ends up dying in a car accident. The man is so guilt-ridden and traumatized by it that he vows to never speak again, blaming himself for the incident. He sells his house and moves. It's basically about dealing with depression and forgiving yourself for things beyond your control." She gave me a look and I laughed. "I know, I realized the irony too. Although most of my grief was not beyond my control…Anyway, he also befriends and, eventually, falls in love with probably one of the chattiest women on the planet, so that makes for some interesting underlining."

Realization dawned on Bella's face. "So that's why you wouldn't practice your lines for me!" she laughed, lightly kicking my shin. "Because you don't even have any!"

I laughed too. "I do. Just not very many. Only in the beginning and the end."

"So he forgives himself?" she mused out loud.

"Yeah, but it's kind of bittersweet because the movie ends as he's starting to forgive himself. He hasn't done so completely, it just hints at it. Also, even though you're rooting for him and the girl he meets to get together, and they do, he never actually speaks to her. He only speaks at the end to his wife's grave."

"Sounds like I would cry," she informed me.

"That's the idea," I grinned. "Hell, I cried a bit."

She giggled and it was infectious. We passed the meal in much the same way, except I also asked Bella to explain more about her job, and specifically photo-developing.

"I think I'd really like to watch you do that one day," I told her intensely.

She smiled shyly at me. "We'll see. And I think I'd like to see you act. I need to pick up some of your movies. Didn't you do Romeo and Juliet?" she smirked. "Even though I now know you don't even like it?"

"Yeah, mainly because of the movie. I had to explore the story and the character so intensely that, when I discovered who Romeo really was, I didn't like him at all. I got contemptuous of the whole thing."

"Maybe your interpretation was flawed?" she suggested, raising an eyebrow. "Now I really have to see it."

I sighed. "I suppose we'll never see eye-to-eye on that story. As many times as you say you've read it, I don't understand what you or anybody else can see in it. It's about fickle people making foolish, rash decisions that they know will end badly but…well, hell if they care. The rivalry has no clear reason - "

"That's the point," Bella interrupted, scowling. "It makes it ever-lasting, and also makes it seem sillier and unnecessary - "

" - Fine. Then, I guess the person that really annoys me most is Romeo. He just makes mistake after mistake. He's ridiculous in my opinion. The I-love-Rosaline, wait-no-I-don't-because-I-saw-another-girl-and-now-suddenly-I'm-in-head-over-heels-love, wait, she's my mortal enemy! Wait, let me marry her. Wait, let me interfere in another person's fight and get my best friend killed, and then kill my wife's cousin and get banished. And then let me cry over getting banished when I should be grateful that I'm still alive - "

"Okay, I get it!" she hissed, looking furious. "I don't agree though. I don't think most of it was his fault."

I stuck a piece of chicken in my mouth stubbornly. "Your prerogative," I muttered. I glanced at my watch and pushed my plate away. Bella had finished a while ago. "Would you like dessert?"

She shook her head. "No way, I'm full. The meal was delicious."

"That works out well then." I caught our waitress's eye and waved her over, handing her my credit card. "We're about ready to go," I told her, smiling. She took my card slowly and walked away, looking slightly dizzy.

"You shouldn't do that," Bella said, shaking her head sympathetically. I gave her a confused look. "Dazzle people. It shouldn't be legal. It could be considered intoxication."

I rolled my eyes, but if she wanted to think of my smile as dazzling then I wasn't going to be the one to set her straight.

"Thank you for dinner," she smiled up at me later on as we were walking down the street toward our next destination. The sun was beginning it's descent to set. "It was really amazing."

I grinned softly down at her, arm around her hips. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, and I'm really glad nothing went wr - "

Bella clamped a hand over my hand hurriedly before I could finish. "Do not say that!" she hissed. "Not unless you want to jinx it and ruin everything!"

I nodded, conceding that she had a point. That phrase was basically the kiss and willing embrace of misfortune. She lowered her hand slowly, suspiciously, as if I was about to spit it out just to spite her.

The cars were lining the street next to us, the traffic getting thicker - we were getting close.

We went a few more blocks and turned a corner before she saw it. Bella gasped, a hand going to her mouth. "The Hollywood Bowl?" she asked excitedly. "I always wanted to come here during the summer concert season! Who's playing?"

"It's Tchaikovsky night; they've got an orchestra. I thought you might enjoy the Romeo & Juliet Overture."

Bella suddenly stopped, grabbing my waist and spinning me around to face her. Her arms went around my neck and pulled my face down to hers to press a firm, passionate kiss to my mouth. My other arm joined its twin around her hips and I pulled her closer to me, her body molding to mine. I tried to not get too excited as I felt her breasts flattened against my abs, her soft stomach pressed against my groin, her tongue tasting mine; it'd be an embarrassing problem to deal with in broad daylight.

I may not like the story, but I could see that playing that card could get me some very good points with her.

We broke away and Bella's eyes were bright, her cheeks flushed. She tried to compose herself. "Erm, well let's continue, shall we?" she suggested breathlessly. I chuckled a little, and we commenced on our way.

The Bowl was already crowded when we got there, but I'd already pre-bought tickets, so we didn't have to worry about that part. I'd also bought good ones, in the center of the stadium, with an excellent view of the orchestra. They were expensive, but it wasn't a problem for me and I was hoping Bella wouldn't comment on it.

But she'd already been very lenient during dinner. I should've realized my luck would've run out.

"Wow Edward," she breathed in amazement, looking around the place. It was massive inside. The stage was in front of us, the chairs and instruments already set out. "This must have cost a fortune." She bit her lip, worry in her eyes.

"It was no big deal," I whispered to her, kissing her cheek. I lingered, brushing my nose along her flaming jaw, smelling her ravishing scent again. She smelled better than normal. It was her normal strawberry scent mixed with something floral… "Okay," I groaned. "Tell me what soap you used, because I'm going to have to buy it for you to wear permanently."

"Aw, but then it would get old," she teased, winking at me. I kissed her eyelid, putting my arm around her shoulders. "Umm…I don't know, I think it's freesia scented?"

"Freesia," I murmured. "Hm." Ravishing.

I glanced at my watch and saw it was a little past eight. The sun was sinking. "It should be starting soon," I whispered to Bella. It was only a couple minutes after that the lights in the stadiums dimmed and the ones on the stage brightened. All the members of the orchestra marched on stage and took the seats. Everyone clapped, and Bella shifted in her seat excitedly.

There was a minute or so of preparation before the orchestra began, a fast-paced battle song. Bella leaned closer to me and whispered, "I really wish we'd gotten a program. I would like to know what song this is."

I didn't grab a program because we didn't need one - I was a huge Tchaikovsky fan and was familiar with all his work. I whispered back, "This is Battle of Poltava from Mazeppa, an opera."

She looked at me, surprised. "How do you know?"

I shrugged. "I used to play the piano, and Tchaikovsky is one of my favorite artists."

"You used to play piano?" she murmured.

"Used to."

"Now I really want to hear you play," she whispered excitedly.

I breathed a laugh of denial. "No, it's been years."

She snorted. "I'm sure you could do it."

"Hm." I pursed my lips. "We can talk about this later. Enjoy this for now," I said, gesturing with my head around us, indicating the music in the air. Nodding, she leaned her head against my shoulder contently.

Battle of Poltava ended, and we all gave a tumultuous round of applause again. The next song began with the flare of trumpets and violins and I smiled, settling back into my seat comfortably. I leaned down to whisper in Bella's ear before she had to ask, "This is called Piano Concerto No. 1. It's quite long, and very beautiful."

I ran my hand through the loose tendrils around her face as I listened to the moving music, wishing her hair was down so I could run my hands through all of it. The concerto went on, and as it got darker it also got colder. I felt Bella's skin erupt in goose bumps and imagined how cold she must be in her tiny dress. I sat up a bit and removed my arm from around her so I could take my jacket off, handing it to her. She beamed at me in thanks, making my heart thump with its radiance. She put her arms through the sleeves in front, smoothing the end of it over the tops of her thighs. I put my arm back around her, wishing I could warm her up more.

I watched the pianist on stage, and memories of lessons and compositions flitted around my brain. I had gotten my piano moved into storage a couple years ago from my mother's house when she passed away. Could I start up again? I envisioned doing so. I envisioned Bella watching me play. I leaned my cheek against her hair and inhaled, thinking, contemplating.

The concerto gave way to a short piece from Sleeping Beauty, The Lilac Fairy. I whispered as much to Bella. That very soon gave way to the Romeo & Juliet Overture. I'll admit, though I felt only contempt for the story, there was no denying the beauty and movement in the composition. It overflowed with beauty and love and longing and conflict. Bittersweet. Specifically the beginning love theme.

I looked down at Bella and wasn't completely surprised to find that she was crying. It was the feeling of the story she loved so much flowing around us in music form. I looked around, and many of the women in the audience were a bit bright-eyed. I gently wiped the tears from her face with my fingertips, kissing her forehead.

The show ended with the 1812 Overture and fireworks. The crowd oohed and aahed, while I watched peacefully, silently, observing the quiet joy and magic in Bella's face as she watched too.

The crown began to disperse, and I held Bella's hand as we made our way silently through the stadium, back to the sidewalk that would lead us the car. We didn't talk, but it was a peaceful silence, as we were each lost in our own thoughts. She still wore my jacket, though she was wearing it the correct way now.

I suppose I'm the one who jinxed it. We had just reached the car when I thought, 'That all went really well.'

That was when the unmistakable flash of a camera bulb went off behind us.

*Link for Bella's dress on profile.

I apologize profusely for the wait! Hopefully this made up for it. But summer is on, so I should have more updating time.

Firstly, I really have no idea if Edward's movie exists or not, I just made it up. I've never seen one like it, but there's a movie of just about everything, so who knows. Also, that's not a challenge to find one because I like the idea of it being original, lol. Secondly, I really love Tchaikovsky as well, and the Hollywood Bowl does hold a night of his works, excitingly enough. And thirdly, I like the quote for Edward's part of the chapter because it was only after I wrote it that I realized how much I made him talk. But that's okay, he had interesting things to say.

Had writer's block and wrote a one-shot the other day to clear it: it's called 'It Should Be Me,' go check it out please!

Thank you and drop me a thought!

By the way I just finished the detailed outline of the end, and I guarantee, if you saw the end, with this beginning, you'd be like, "How the hell did we end up here?" It's gonna be a fun ride ;)

- The Romanticidal Edwardian