A/N: My imaginary boyfriend is English …Twilight isn't mine though.

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"Emmett! Get your fucking sneakers out of the way!" I yelled at my brother for the third time in about ten minutes. He went out of his bedroom, an annoyed yet amused expression on his face.

"Bro, am I dreaming? Did you just say "fuck"? I never thought I'd see the day." He laughed, only increasing my irritation.

Well, I'm glad he finds that happy, really glad! How can he not realize how important tonight is for me? Of course he doesn't know about my feelings, does he? The smirk he wore yesterday told me he suspected something though. I really hope he will keep what he knows to himself because sharing this kind of information with Mom would lead to World War 3. She's not a mean woman nor is she judgemental but you touch one of her kids and Mom becomes Mike Tyson. I guess all mothers are like her.

Emmett finally seems to take pity on me and takes his sneakers to his room where they belong. At the exact moment he shuts his door, isolating himself once again, the bell rings. I jump at least a metre high and start breathing heavily. Panting actually, like I just ran a marathon. Scolding myself, I try to channel my inner cool and marginally succeed. After a few deep calming breaths, I walk down the stairs, trying to appear nonchalant while I' m shaking inside.

I smell her before I see her. I know it sounds creepy but all my senses are in alert when she's near and her perfume is one of my favorite things about her. It's like her, delicate and sophisticated. A non-sugary fragrance, very simple and straight to the point but also complex and refined, I love it. I could become a perfume tester with my sudden knowledge about fragrances, I mused briefly.

Mom has finished greeting her at the door and she's standing in the foyer, looking very uncomfortable but as beautiful as ever. A simple black dress, small heels and a pretty bouquet of flowers enhance her gorgeous face. I barely see that though. All that matters to me is her expression. She looks panicked and afraid. I share her feelings. I want to pull her to me and hug her or kiss her, I'm unsure.

It's my turn to greet her. I hate the fakeness of my voice, the forced politeness when all I want to do is take her to my room. I feel both like a coward and a pervert. It's not a winning combination. A foul smell thankfully distracts me from thoughts.

"Mom, what's that smell?" I suspect the apple pie has suffered and is now dead in the oven. Mom is not exactly a great cook.

"Oh dear, oh dear! My pie!" Yep, that's what I thought. "I have to make another one…" Wait, what? "Please, Miss Swan, sit and make yourself comfortable. Edward will keep you company."

I almost stumble on my two feet. My best dream and worst nightmare are rolled into this one sentence. Edward will keep you company. After my stunt at the café, how can I keep her company without turning into a freak?

I'm torn from my dilemma by Bella's clearing her throat.

"Edward? Want to sit with me? I think we have to talk about yesterday." And there it is. This is where my crazy fantasy ends I guess. I sit cautiously, as far from her as I can.

"I hope you're not embarrassed about what happened." Her voice is very soft, as she was talking to a child. The way she looks at me is anything but maternal however. I'm grateful for that.

"Yes, Miss Swan. I'm really embarrassed.", I mumble painfully. "I apologize."

I can't watch her after that. My eyes are suddenly very captivated by her shoes. Hmm, nice ankles…God, I'm hopeless!

"Edward, I'm the one who should be embarrassed. I tripped and fell on your lap. How clumsier can I get?" She laughs softly. Hope rises again in my heart. Maybe everything's not lost.

"I' m sorry too, Edward. If you had a…reaction, it's entirely my fault." She's right about that. It's her fault for being so sexy and wonderful.

"So you don't think I'm a…" I sigh deeply and take a deep breath "…pervert then?"

She blushes deeply. She seems in pain about something.

"No, I don't think that. Actually I…"

"Well, the pie is ready! I'll have to be more careful for this one!" Mom declares happily, back from the kitchen. Damn! What was she about to say? Actually, what?

"Miss Swan, I hope you didn't take offence from my shortness yesterday. I'm not myself these last few weeks. Edward has probably told you about our situation." She says a sad frown on her face.

I feel shameful. I didn't mention anything to Bella. I didn't want her to pity me or see me differently.

"No, I don't think he has…" Bella sounds uncertain and desperate to be tactful. We're both walking on eggshells around each other and it makes me want to scream.

"It…never came up." I whisper hesitantly, my eyes travelling between my mother's shocked face and Bella's encouraging smile.

"Well, I guess it's not easy to say…" Mon admits with a sigh. "My husband died a couple of weeks ago. He was killed in a car accident." She continues in a numb, neutral voice. She has to distance herself or she will crumble right in front or her guest. Esme Cullen is not a good cook but she's a proud woman.

Bella looks horrified. Her mouth is half-open and her eyes are wide. She tries not to gasp but I can see it's hard for her. It's my turn to smile to comfort her.

"Hmm, I don't know what to say…Mrs. Cullen, I'm so sorry for your loss." She manages to stay professional even though I can hear her voice trembling.

"Thank you, it's very kind of you. Please, call me Esme. I don't like "Mrs. Cullen" very much." Mom tries to lighten the mood but it's hopeless.

"Call me Bella, then." Her warmth soothes me. Seeing my mother's crushed face destroys me once more but I feel better with her next to me.

"I'm going to bring the pie and tea. Don't want to burn another one!" Mom jokes weakly, eliciting an equally weak chuckle from Bella.

As soon as Mom is out of view, my teacher does something that almost stops my heart from beating. She places her hand on top of mine and squeezes.

"I'm sorry, Edward…I…I don't know what to tell you. I can't imagine how painful it must be for you and your brother."

I can only nod and look her in the eyes. If I speak, my love will overflow and I'll confess everything. You have no idea how I want to do that.

"Here, Bella, help yourself…" Mom certainly has perfect timing to interrupt a moment.

We chat quietly during tea. I'm happy to see Mom opening herself to a social life. She never liked to be alone and Bella doesn't disappoint. She's polite and charming and knows how to make small talk without sounding trite or pathetic. I don't listen to what they say, I only watch her. I hope I'm not too obvious.

"I know Edward has worked on a couple of ideas about the drawings." Mom says proudly. I realize the Baudelaire project is their current topic of conversation and nod.

"Yes, I started with A la passante because it's my favorite…"

"Of course, I know that." Bella answers softly. I can't help but be elated. She remembered.

"Honey, you should show your teacher what you already did while I'm cleaning this." Mom almost pushes us out of the way.

"Esme, do you want any help?" Bella sounds stressed.

"Don't be ridiculous…" Mom huffs. "Go and work, young ones!"

She follows me to my room where the drawings are. I feel my heart pumping so hard it's about to leap out of my chest.

Bella is pale and seems very nervous. I try to diffuse the tension when I open my bedroom door.

"This is where the magic happens!"

I'm pretty sure I hear her mutter "I'm sure." But it can't be what she said, can it?

She looks around the room with a secret smile on her lips. Not knowing what else to say, I shakily hand her my sketches. She barely looks at them before placing them back on my desk.

"How do you feel? I'm really sorry about your father." She looks at me almost tenderly, her eyes imploring for something.

"I'm …what I'm supposed to be I guess." I feel so lame, like I can't express what I felt the day of the accident.

"Yes, everybody reacts in a different way I suppose." She's so adorable here, in my bedroom, she belongs here so much that I forget all my fears and ask the question that's been burning my lips.

"What did you want to say before Mom interrupted? You said actually…" My eyes are hot on her, I want to know her secrets. She blushes again and shakes her head. Now I really want to know.

"Come on, Miss Swan!" I almost whine. How embarrassing!

"You want to know, don't you?" Her voice is barely audible.

"I do, yes. Tell me or you won't see the other sketches…" I try to joke. She doesn't look amused and I feel bad. Until she raises her eyes to mine and in the huskiest voice, she says:

"Actually…I liked it."

Dun dun dun…Please review and you'll know what happens faster ;)!

XO Steph