A/N: Sorry for such a late update. I have a Beta now so hopefully my next chapters will have lesser errors from now on.

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Also special thanks to my Beta, Mariana75.

Edward

I watched Bella carefully as she sat before me, feeling completely at home. She looked splendid in her white knee-length summer dress. Like always, she wore very little make-up and had her hair tied up in a messy bun. She remover her legs from underneath her and rested them on the floor. Feminine looking open-toed sandals dangled from her feet. She was talking animatedly with her hands.

"Hey, what was that you said about the way I chewed my food?" she asked, snapping her eyebrows together.

I knew she would have caught that. No single detail escaped from her attention.

"Well, you always cut down your food into little pieces and plop them into your mouth and while you chew, your cheeks bend at one end and your lips sort of move in a clockwise direction and I can't tell if you're actually chewing or thinking about how to accomplish world peace" I replied. I laughed at my ridiculous explanation, hoping she wouldn't see through my sorry attempts at hiding the fact that I had been paying way too much attention to her.

She grumbled in protest. "I do not!" she persisted.

I smiled crookedly and that irritated her even more. "Enough about that. We were still talking about you," I pointed out.

She sighed and finally gave up. "Like you said, I have an obsession with classic novels. What else did I miss? Oh yes, I have a weakness for Ben and Jerry's hot fudge sundaes and my favourite shows are Law and Order and The Simpsons. I love Bart Simpson. He rules," she concluded with dreamy eyes.

Her enthusiasm was infectious. I fought hard to keep a straight face. The corners of my lips twitched.

"As for favourite movies, then I would have to say that it's a tie between the 1999 movie adaptation of Mansfield Park and A Nightmare on Elm Street," she concluded.

This time, it was too much for me to bear. I burst out into laughter.

She scowled at me and she looked adorable. I was really liking this trend at making her mad. "And you find that funny because…?" she asked, pretending to look annoyed, yet failing miserably.

Where to begin? It's because it's too easy to be myself with you. I don't need to fake a smile when you say something funny; the laughter comes out naturally. It's because I realized that I have laughed more in this past month that I've known you than I have in all these years since the accident. It's because I don't need to make an effort to be fond of our little meetings and relax when I'm around you. It's because it's become so simple for me to like you.

I cleared my throat and said none of those things. Instead I replied by saying, "I just think it's a bizarre combination of movies to like, that's all."

"And why is that?" she inquired.

"Fanny Price and Freddy Krueger are not exactly the perfect match," I said, before I started laughing again.

"Okay, I guess you have a point," she mumbled, looking down at her feet. When she looked up, she started yawning.

"Sorry, that's very rude," she said, clamping loudly her hand over her mouth, trying to stifle the multiple yawns.

I shook my head. "Not at all. You know what? I'll go and make you another cup of coffee, would you like that?" I asked.

"Yes, thank you, Edward. I can get it myself though, you don't need to take the trouble of making it yourself," she offered.

"Really, it's not a problem," I said over my shoulder, as I turned my back towards her and made my way to the kitchen.

As I was taking out the coffee jar from the cupboard, she called my name. "Edward?"

I had my back to the living room where she was currently sitting in. Since the kitchen and living room where joined by connecting window, she could see and hear me as well. "Yes?" I replied back.

"All these things that I said right now, they are not the most important details about me, you know."

My hands froze in midair, holding a spoonful of coffee beans. I was not sure where she was heading to with this conversation.

"I want to do something worthwhile with my life. I'd like to think that since I have been given the opportunity to live this existence, there must be some purpose behind it. Maybe I am fooling myself with that explanation, kind of like wishful thinking, but I'd like to believe that may be I'm not. Whatever the case, I would like to make a difference in this world. No, I'm not saying I plan to feed the starving children of Uganda, nor do I have the ability to stop North Korea from making nuclear weapons." She got interrupted by another one of her yawns. I waited impatiently for her to resume. "However, I would like to make a person smile, or change the way a person felt about him or herself with a few kind words, boost his or her confidence, you know what I mean? I am aware that may not seem like much or they may not last that long to make a difference, but I would live in peace with myself knowing that, at least, I made the effort. And that's all I ask from life."

I spun around on my heels to check if this was the same person I had left behind in the living room. I saw that Bella had put up her legs on one of the armrests of the couch she was sitting on, with her head resting against the back of the couch. She was now facing away from me, towards the wall in front of her, which is why I couldn't see the expression on her face. Of course, everything she had said right now made complete sense. It was strange to hear those words come out from her mouth but it was not unexpected. I had come to know her well enough to understand that she was perfectly capable of wanting that as her mission in life; she was a selfless person by nature. Yet, I couldn't make out the reason as to why she would talk about this with me, of all the people.

I quickly resumed making her coffee and while doing so, realization dawned on me. She probably felt she had come to know so much about my personal life, that this was her own way of letting me in her private world. Maybe she felt guilty that she didn't have big enough secrets to share so she was trying to make it up to me by talking about her dreams.

In spite of myself, I chuckled at her absurdity. Yet, in a way, I found that to be quite endearing as well. However, my smile was short-lived as I grasped something else. What was she doing, wasting her weekends away with a complete lunatic like me? Why doesn't she go around and have fun like other people her age usually do? Or if she wasn't the outgoing type, like she said so, then why wasn't she spending her weekends with her family, who clearly meant the world to her? No, Bella was being completely irrational about this and I let her have her way. Because I had finally allowed myself to become the selfish creature I had always dreaded on becoming. Because I enjoyed her company too much to talk some sense into her so she would stop visiting me and do something fun for a change. No, I would have to be hard on her and ask her to never visit me again. Even though it would not only hurt her but me, as well, initially, it will be for the best. With time, she would move on and forget everything about me, about this, whatever this was.

With that resolve in mind, I walked over to the sitting room, with the coffee mug in hand. She was not sitting in the same position I had seen her before – her legs were no longer draped across the armrest but she was snuggled back against the single couch.

"Bella," I said, placing the mug on the coffee table. "I don't think I can do this anymore. I have been taking advantage of you and I am terribly sorry about that."

When she didn't respond, I walked over to the couch and slowly circled around it till I was facing her. Aha, she had fallen asleep. Her head was resting on her right shoulder while her hands were placed on her lap and her legs were bent and drawn to her chest. Her sandals lay abandoned on the floor.

I stood there, wondering what to do. From the way she was breathing steadily, with her chest slowly heaving up and down, it was obvious she was in a deep sleep. If that was the case, then she was going to give herself a back pain from the foetal position she was currently curled in. That meant I would have to move her from that couch, but then where should I place her? I thought for a moment if I should just tuck her in my bed, but quickly shook that idea off, knowing it would be completely inappropriate. A small part of me commented that I would have a completely sleepless night if her smell lingered on my bed sheets and pillows. I metaphorically smacked myself in the back of my head to shut that voice.

With extreme care, I placed one arm on her back, right beneath her shoulder blades and the other below her knees and picked her up. Her head lolled to her side and rested on my chest while she kept breathing in and out. Her smooth skin felt like satin against my arms, but I tried hard not to think about that. Gradually, so as to not wake her, I laid her down on the love seat and quickly stepped backwards.

As I kept watching her, Bella stretched her legs and rolled onto her left side, while her right hand hung from the edge of the loveseat. The stretching caused her dress to rise up to above her knees, exposing the creamy white skin of her long legs. She slumbered peacefully, her hair coming loose from the bun it was tied in, creating a wild mess around her head. Idly, my eyes raked over every curve of her body, as I realized that so far I had been totally oblivious about Bella's appearance. Of course, I knew she was pretty but until now I had no idea that someone could look so …appealing, for lack of a better word. The sight of her made the muscles in my chest tighten and a lump rose in my throat. I gulped slowly as I felt my entire body go rigid.

I quickly looked away from the loveseat. What had I just done? There she was, lying comfortably, in my apartment, trusting me blindly, while I was acting like a leering teenager ruled by hormones. I felt disgusted with myself.

So I stood there, trying my best to not to stare at Bella. Which was an extremely difficult thing to accomplish, I might add. Having nothing else to do to distract me and realizing that clearly, I didn't have much will to stay away to begin with, I went ahead and knelt down beside the loveseat. I picked up reverently the hand that was lazily hanging by her side. I had intended to put it back on her lap but as soon as my fingers made contact with her skin, a surge of electricity passed through us. Bella jerked in her sleep as her hand fell back limply against her neck. Her reaction startled me so much so that I staggered backwards and my shoulders hit the edge of the coffee table. Consequently the mug full of coffee was turned over, spilling its contents all over the table and making a loud noise as it hit the glass surface of the furniture.

All that commotion woke up Bella. She sat up straight on the sofa, startled by the commotion and impulsively reached over to pull her dress over her knees with her left hand while she smoothed her hair with her right one. I tried not to pay attention to her movements while thanking fate for giving me enough time to position myself a little distance away from her. I was now bending over on to the coffee table, picking up the mug and checking the glass sheet for any crack.

I straightened up, with the now empty coffee mug in my hand and apologized saying, "I am sorry I woke you up with all that noise."

Bella rubbed her eyes and yawned. "Aw, crap! This is so embarrassing." With that, she dropped her head into her hands.

I sighed and placed the mug back on the table that was still spattered with coffee. For the second time, I knelt down beside the sofa where Bella sat now. I looked up to her face and murmured, "What?"

She blinked once, her face looking flustered. "This!" she said, pointing at herself. "I fell asleep!" she stated, like I had not been painfully aware of that fact since the past half an hour.

"That's not such a huge deal, it happens. I am sure you must have been exhausted," I replied, hoping to comfort her.

She swung her legs from the sofa and I immediately retrieved backwards, but I was careful this time so that I didn't cause another calamity. She walked over to the kitchen sink and splashed water on her face while I cleaned up the coffee table. When she was done, she came back and sat down on the couch she had occupied earlier. I finished cleaning up and came back to the living room. Like before, I took my seat across from her.

"Bella, I'm sorry about the coffee. Do you want me to go and make another cup for you?" I asked. My earlier resolution of asking her to leave and never come back was put on hold for the moment being.

"No. I'm fine," she said, her eyes looking tired and puffy.

We spent the next couple of minutes in silence. Then suddenly, she snapped her head up, her eyes looking still as weary as before but there was a certain spark in them. I waited patiently for her to say something because evidently she had something in mind.

"If I ask you to do something, would you say yes?" she asked, looking hopeful, yet nervous. When I didn't answer right away, she started biting her lip and fidgeted in her seat.

I sighed before answering. "That depends on what you ask."

She looked down at her palm and traced the lines on them with her index finger. "Please don't be mad, but I-I-I-I'd really like t-t-t-to hear you play."

I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples with my fingers. How should I answer her?

"Bella, why?" I asked, with my eyes still closed.

"I've come to realize that playing the violin was something very close to your heart and I hate to see you not doing it," she replied, her voice sounding strained.

I opened my eyes and said, "I don't know if that would be the best idea. It's just …"

"Look," she interrupted me, "I understand you have had such a major loss but have you thought that playing your music might actually give you some peace of mind? It was a cruel turn of fate by which your family was taken away from you," I winced slightly, "but what is the point of distancing yourself from the one thing that might help you maintain even an ounce of remaining normalcy?"

I felt my eyes flash up in anger. My teeth clenched together and my hands curled into fists. "You think my life is no longer normal?" I snapped at her a bit too harshly.

She cringed against the back of the couch, looking……frightened. It did nothing to calm my nerves. Instead, it fuelled my anger even more.

"Th-that's not what I meant. Please, Edward, don't misunderstand me. You are trying way too hard to detach yourself from your previous life and that's not helping, at all."

I sighed, feeling my rage evaporating slowly. I was instantly reminded of the reason I had asked her to come back in the first place. I had told her that I needed her help to…survive. Of course, that was before I had realized that I wanted her around mostly because I liked it. "I-I still don't think…."

"Please, at least give it a try. You have nothing to lose here," she reasoned.

Slowly, I got up and walked over to my room, knowing that she wouldn't stop pestering me until I conceded her wish, though in the back of my mind I realized that she did have a valid point. There, lying in the corner of my room, nestled between my study table and the closet, was the black case holding my beloved violin; Angela's anniversary gift to me. I hadn't touched it since …… that fateful night, four years ago. I tried to make myself go numb so that the blinding pain that would inevitably tear through my being just by opening the case would not make me change my mind. Holding my breath, I reached for it quickly then walked back to the living room, placed it on the table and finally opened it. There lying inside, in all its glory was the same luxurious violin. I traced my fingers slowly across its exterior as I waited for the rush of grief to weaken my resolve. However, I felt none of that as I took the instrument and the bow out and I could smell the familiar whiff of the ebony bridge. Instead of the infinite sorrow I'd dreaded, I felt a strange calm wash over me, something I hadn't felt for a long time.

I saw Bella eyeing the violin in my hands with admiration. I walked over to her and stood next to the couch where she sat. She started to get up but I pushed her back down by putting a hand on her shoulder. She obliged in a state of daze.

After four years' time, I placed the violin on my left shoulder, positioned the bow above it and let out a deep breath. I met Bella's eyes once, snapped my eyes shut and strummed the strings of the instrument with the bow. As the vibrations of the strings began, the room was filled with the melody of Franz Shubert's Ave Maria and I prepared myself again for feeling all the pain crash down on me. To my utter surprise, the only sensation I was aware of was the music playing, the familiar notes being struck and the harmonious tune being reverberated by the walls. I kept my eyes closed knowing that whatever Bella's reaction might be to this, it would sidetrack me.

My insides twisted and turned in pleasant ways as I struck my personal favourite note. Even after playing classical music by composers like Chopin, Mozart, Liszt and Beethoven, this song by Shubert remained one of my favourites. It was one of the first ones I had learned when I started playing and it always reminded me why I enjoyed playing this melodious intrument so much. My heart picked up pace as the song reached the highest note and finally, I exhaled again when I struck the ending note.

When the song ended, I felt all my body muscles loosening and a sense of tranquillity filled my senses. A slow smile spread across my face instinctively. I opened my eyes to see Bella, looking as motionless as a stone sculpture, with her eyes wide open in shock, unblinking. Her reaction made me chortle. I realized it sounded less strained and more genuine than ever.

"That was………" she began.

And I was suddenly feeling very self-conscious. It had been a long while since I had last played and I had been out of practice since then. What if the music hadn't been as pleasing to her as it had been to me? Was I being so partial because I was the one playing? I cursed myself for not practicing before playing in front of her. Edgar, the conductor of the orchestra I used to play for, would have been extremely disappointed.

"Magnificent," she breathed. I too let out the breath I didn't realize I had been holding.

A/N: Review please?