"Alice," Bella said, hand stoped, partway to her eyes, about to rub them. She was standing in her pajamas, startled by Alice's sudden appearance at her door at seven in the morning.

"Hey," she replied. "Sorry to wake you."

Bella swallowed. She wondered what had brought her here. She didn't think it would be anything good.

"Everything's fine," Alice hurried out, seeing the look on her face. "Can I come in for a minute?"

Bella nodded, suddenly mute, but stepped aside. "What's going on?" she demanded, as soon as the door clicked shut.

"When Edward came yesterday," Alice said, "he smelled someone's scent in your room." Watching Bella's eyebrows shift together, she added, "not a human someone."

Bella nodded quickly, as if expecting this. Her nervous pacing betrayed calm gesture.

"He didn't recognize the smell, and neither do I." She didn't say that no one else had either. That they had come to check.

"Alright," Bella said, "thank you for letting me know."

Alice paused, before adding more. "There's...um, more. Edward isn't comfortable leaving you alone. I've reminded him of his promise. He's...having difficulty respecting the no-bubble-wrap rule," she finished awkwardly.

Bella huffed out an angry breath.

"OK," she said softly, acknowledging what Alice had said, but not agreeing with it. It was anything but OK, but cogent thoughts were not the dominant feature of her thinking.

"He wanted me to ask if it was OK if we were...around more. Not noticeably, but just to be sure."

Bella's "No," was loud, and immediate.

Alice nodded, not surprised.

She wasn't looking forward to telling Bella the rest of it. She cleared her throat a bit.

"Spit it out, Alice." Bella said. She had a feeling she knew what was coming.

"His course of action is the same, regardless of your answer," she said. "He won't leave you alone."

Bella's shoulders sagged a bit, and she closed her eyes. He'd agreed. She'd dared to hope with it.

And she'd been foolish to do so.

Alice squeezed her eyes together, trying not to look at what Bella's future held. "Don't suppose you're going to tell me what you're about to do?"

"No," Bella said, "I haven't decided yet." She sighed emphatically. "I should...get ready, for class," she added.

"Sure," Alice said, "we still on for something this weekend?"

Bella nodded absent-mindedly, lost in her angry thoughts.

Alice's cold hand on hers brought her back to herself. "Bella," she said quietly, "I can't say I don't worry. Please...you're my dearest friend. Just—," she stopped, her face twisting with anxiety. She didn't want to hover, to ask what Edward would, but—

"He has an easy solution, Alice," Bella whispered, the shake from anger, or fear, Alice wasn't sure. "If he wants me...if he wants me for it be forever. As his equal—" She couldn't finish, the emotion taking her throat. She shook her head, too fraught with it. The tears were springing.

She felt like an idiot.

A foolish, hopeful idiot.

What had she expected?

Alice was nodding slowly, swallowing nervously herself. "Alright, I'll go. Let you get ready."

Bella moved angrily through her morning, shoving her books angrily into her backpack, her feet angrily through the legs of her jeans, and to her great frustration, her hand, angrily through the stitches of her favorite shirt. The ripping sound brought her up short, and she made herself take several deep breaths before doing more damage to anything else.

By the time she left her second class, she was much calmer, the knowledge of Edward's flagrant disrespect slightly faded.

Anger, at least, hurt less than disappointment. And fear.

Seeing Edward, leaning casually against of the wall of the building directly opposite the one she was leaving, the anger flared easily up into her cheeks. He watched her approach, taking stock of her rapid gait. The deep curve of her eyes was forewarning enough.

"Is this you keeping your promise?" she said, voice low and tremulous.

"There is no point in keeping my promise if it leaves you dead, Bella," he said calmly.

She made a sound that resembled something between a laugh, and a bitter snort. "Do you even understand what the word respect means?"

"A stray vampire goes into your room, and you're worried about respect." He said the word like it was something dirty, squeezing his fingers into his palms.

Bella was shaking now. "Yes, I am. Because we've seen how you not respecting my wishes works."

"Leaving you unprotected is not realistic," Edward said, his voice low and serious. He was leaning forward, his figure curved almost over her.

She stepped back, avoiding even the shadow of his bodily protection. "Yes," she said, "it's the most realistic thing ever. If you don't like the frailty my existence entails, you have a way to change it."

Then she turned, and walked away, as if daring him to follow.

He didn't, not, at least, in a way she could see.

Marie and Sam gave Bella a wide berth at dinner, her deep scowl shoved into her book warning enough.

By Wednesday afternoon, Bella was ready to take her frustrations out onto something physical. The climbing practise at the gym seemed a suitable outlet.

"Ow!" Sam said, when Bella's launch up her friend's shoulder landed the wrong way.

"Sorry!" Bella called down, as she curled herself up, and onto the turett, leaning over to help Sam up.

"Sure," Sam mumbled, glowering a bit as she hoisted her leg over the last edge.

Emmett was awfully quiet, sitting, waiting for the others to join them.

"Three minutes, forty-seven seconds," Jun called. "Better than last week. Nice."

"And totally shitty," Leo said. "Winning times were under two minutes last year."

Jun frowned at him slightly, but recovered, relaxing his face, "practise," he said evenly. "We'll get there."

Bella was trying to keep her face even and calm, but the pull of her feelings was apparent to everyone there.

"Alright, we're done for tonight. I'll have the chair in the foyer if anyone needs some work, just give me a few minutes to get it." Catching Bella's eye, he called, "And don't forget to stretch!"

Bella rolled her eyes. She meant it to be humorous, but it just looked bitter.

Everyone else was hopping down from the platform easily, and Bella looked at the depth of the jump and sighed, when Emmett held his arms out. The others were walking away, their backs to them. "I'll catch you," he said quietly, and Bella nodded, half sliding, half stumbling off the ledge.

Emmett caught her perfectly, of course, but the touch of cold hands made her blush angrily. It only reminded her of Edward.

"I'm not the one disrespecting your wishes," he mumbled, letting go as soon as she was on the ground.

"No," she said, "you're not. Sorry." She knew she'd been in a sour mood since she'd seen Edward, but she'd tried to not inflict it on any irresponsible parties.

"Doesn't mean I'm not freaked out," Emmett added, walking slowly beside her towards the changing rooms, "but we're all trying to respect your need for space." He avoided mentioning the less than casual walks they took turns having in a circuitous pattern around her dorm, not all the time, but enough that it kept off the edge of their anxiety. They'd brought this danger to her. It was theirs to manage.

They'd reached the point where they parted ways. "I'm off," he said softly. "Before Mr. Hands makes any offers again." He looked in the direction of the foyer.

Bella snickered. "I'm sure that would give him something to think about."

Emmett grinned back, imagining this. Jun's face had gone a chalky white the first time Emmett had give him a hand up the climbing set. He enjoyed freaking people out more than he admitted.

"No dying," Emmett called, by way of farewell.

"Sure," Bella muttered, "do my best."

When Edward texted on Monday, asking about lunch on Tuesday, Bella's response was a simple no. And it was that the next week, and then the following week. He didn't stop asking, but the answer was the same.

It cemented the deadening fear in her heart, that they might never be able to make their relationship work.

Ever. Regardless of the circumstances.

She kept going to classes, moving through the motions of her life, but with this constant anxiety nibbling at her stomach.

When term papers, and then midterms arrived, they were a relief. It gave her more than enough to do, with practise on top of it all.

She felt like she'd blinked by the time late October had rolled around. As she and Jun finished their lesson in the pool, he sighed reluctantly.

"I hate to say this, but I think I've taught you everything you need to know for our race."

Bella stopped, staring at him. "And that's a bad thing?"

"No," he said, "it just means I don't get the pleasure of your company as often." The 'your' was emphasized in such a way that she understood he meant, alone, with her.

"Oh," she blushed.

She'd enjoyed the lessons too. He was funny, and kind, and he listened—didn't push her. Except in the water.

"Maybe we can go grab a celebratory bite of pizza?" he asked.

How normal, Bella thought. How wonderfully ordinary. "That sounds great," she said, "my treat. Not that it begins to repay you for all your time."

"No repayment needed," he grinned. "It's been fun."

He had driven, but they opted to walk over to the small pizza place in the student union building. Jun was surprised she hadn't been there before.

"Really? Not at all?"

"Nope," Bella said, "holder of an exclusive dining card membership. Remember?"

Jun made a good impression of a shudder. "If you're surviving on what they feed you there, you definitely need some pizza."

She chuckled. She didn't mind the dining hall food. She didn't have to cook it, and there was always the salad bar when the entrees looked dubious.

The pizza offerings were unique. "Butter chicken here, and baked potato there," the server said. "Chicken pesto coming up in a minute."

"Baked potato," Jun said, without hesitation.

Baked potato pizza? Bella thought, until she tasted it, having seconded Jun's order.

"Oh my god, that's amazing."

"I know, hey?" Jun said, mouth full of the stuff in question.

They eyed the remaining menu items, speculating as to the silent options available. "I'm sure they have a squid and pesto on there somewhere."

"Don't laugh," Jun said, "I think they actually do."

"Eww, gross!"

They were still laughing on their walk back to her dorm. "Oh, shoot, your car!" Bella said. They'd been so lost in conversation, she hadn't even thought of it when they started walking back.

"It's OK," Jun smiled. "I hear this rumour that walking is good for you."

Bella smiled.

"Besides," Jun said, when Bella turned to face him, "I've enjoyed the company. And working with you, in general."

"I have enjoyed learning how not to drown," she said, chuckling.

They were standing just outside the entranceway of her dorm. The small lobby shed its equally small bloom of light outward, and they stood in this shallow pool.

Then he leant down, and before she could put together what he was doing, kissed her.

His hands, fingers long and lean, slipped gently to her back, palms warm and light against her.

When he pulled back, unnerved by her stillness, the tears on her cheeks alarmed him more.

"Oh," he said, "that is not what usually happens."

"Sorry," Bella said, looking down.

"And now you're apologizing."

"No," Bella said, floundering around for words, "it's not you—"

"It's me. Even better." He was keeping his voice light, but there was a deep, and well hidden sting under it.

It was hard not to smile at his jokes. Even with this awkwardness between them.

"I—" she sighed, "can't. Can't make a commitment—"

"So don't," he said, suddenly serious. "I don't expect one. I can't give one either."

She looked at him, brow flexed into a deep downward curve.

"Let it be what it is," he said. "Please." He had put his hand back on her cheek, thumb brushing over it, rubbing away the tears that were there.

When he kissed her again, she leaned into it and raised her own hand to his face. Its smoothness was warm and soft.

His touch felt like it went far deeper than it did, and when she pulled away, startled by the scope of feeling he evoked, it was with surprise. She'd never been the one to pull away. Ever.

She didn't let herself continue the thought, but her brain took full advantage of the distraction to scream at her: what the hell are you doing?

"Don't," Jun said, "I can see it all over your face. Don't put pressure or expectation on it. Just...be open. Please."

Bella ignored the screaming in her mind. "OK," she said softly. The muted shrieking was insistent though, and she silenced it with a quiet "goodnight," turning and almost running back to her room.

Well screened by the trees, Edward watched Jun leave, curling and uncurling his fingers into his palms. He took a deep breath in, and then let it out, florid recriminations swirling in his mind. He only had himself to blame. He'd pushed her away with his insistence.

He wished, not for the first time, that Bella had a roommate. He caught a glimpse of her in a floor mate's eyes, as she unlocked her room, and then could only hear her breathing amongst the chorus of other lungs in the building. Her heartbeat was distinct, and this was a rapid flutter.

He tried to tell himself that he wasn't jealous. That he wanted her to be human. To live a life free of the touch of monsters. That it was good that she could be with someone human. That—

No, he told himself.

There wasn't any good in this.

Jun, meanwhile, sailed home on a wave of elation.

It buoyed him up into the next morning, his steps to, and strokes in the pool far more exuberant than usual.

"Those methamphetamines are really bad for you," Tory said, watching him bounce into the hot tub.

He chuckled. This too, was far too energetic for the hour at hand. "I think," he said, "I can say I've made the next step with Bella."

Tory put a finger to the corner of her mouth, squinted and looked up at the ceiling dramatically, pretending to stretch for a memory associated with this name.

"Jerk," he said, but good naturedly.

"Right, that girl. The one you talk about. All. The. Time."

"Sorry, shall we talk about your girl?"

"Ex," she grumbled.

"Sorry," he said, softening his voice. She'd been so blasé about it, but he could see the ache that smouldered underneath the veneer.

She shrugged. "So, give me the deets. What happened?"

Jun gave the most evasive description.

"Oh, come on!" Tory whined.

"I don't kiss and tell," he shrugged.

"So you kissed?"

"I suppose I walked into that one," he sighed. His cheeks seemed a deeper colour than the hot tub warranted

"Glad for you," Tory said, wiping her the moisture beading on her forehead. "Much as I want to stay and press you for more, I'm roasting."

"See ya," Jun called, as she slipped out of the water, letting his thoughts return to their happy occupation: Bella.