I'm not saying it's your fault

Although you could've done more

You're so naïve, yet so

How could this be done?

By such a smiling sweetheart

-The Kooks, Naïve

Chapter 3: Naïve

"Um, hi?" It sounded like a question when I said it. I felt like an imbecile, sitting there staring at him with my mouth hanging open.

"Hi there," he muttered, smiling shyly and glancing down at the chair in front of him. "Mind if I take a seat?" he asked, nodding toward the chair.

I nodded my head and he sat slowly, propping his cane on the edge of the table. He was wearing a black V neck T-shirt today with a pair of dark blue denim jeans that were slung low on his hips. I tried my hardest not to stare at him like an idiot. He had a full tattoo sleeve on his left arm. On the underside of his forearm was an old decaying tree. The detail was so intricate and highly wrought that somehow I had a rough idea that that tattoo meant something special to him, that it held a place in his heart. Its leaves were falling down around the mangled roots which were drawn at his wrist and there was one lone leaf left at the top of the tree. The long and twisted branches of the tree wrapped around his forearm, almost climbing up. This particular tattoo stood out the most to me and suddenly my dream from last night appeared in my head. I shook it off quickly.

The rest of the sleeve was made up of vines and what appeared to be several different poems and phrases all blended and separated perfectly to look uniform and refined. All of his tattoos were simply works of art.

I glanced to his right arm. On the inside of his right forearm was a black phoenix.

I pried my eyes from his arms.

When I finally looked up to his face I knew that he'd caught me blatantly staring at his tattoos. He raised an eyebrow at me, challenging me to say something. I sighed and ran a hand through my disheveled hair. "Sorry, I –" I stopped myself. "Beautiful. You're tattoos, I mean! They're beautiful, nice. Yeah," I sighed and shook my head.

Idiot. I thought. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"You like them?" he asked. His expression was soft, inviting even.

"Yes, absolutely,"

"Interesting." he said. "Most people I meet are turned off by them, they intimidate people, you could say." He shrugged carelessly and rested his hands on the table, clasping them tightly together.

"I think tattoos are amazing. They're unique and every one of them is different. It's a great way to convey different emotions and feelings." I felt like a freak.

"Exactly," he said, smiling.

I nodded my head and smiled softly when he suddenly spoke up again.

"Listen," he paused, green eyes meeting mine. "I wanted to apologize for scaring you the other night."

I felt my eyes widen and my heart raced just thinking about that night. "You didn't –" I said, trying to defend myself.

"Don't pretend with me, girl, you were scared out of your mind. You were running from me like I was Jack the fucking Ripper."

I smiled timidly at his dry humor and shrugged my shoulders.

"Anyway, I saw you come in and I wanted to apologize. I've felt bad about it." he mentioned.

"You remember me?" I asked, baffled he would remember someone he'd talked to for three seconds nearly a fortnight ago.

"A face like yours isn't easy to forget." he stated seriously, eyes trained on mine.

I felt the heat rising to my cheeks almost immediately and shook my head. I've always been what you'd call a "plain Jane". My hair was brown and my eyes were also dark brown. It was hard to stand out in a crowd when you were so ordinary. I blended in, a wallflower. I had a petite nose and nearly translucent skin, both of those qualities not doing much for my sex appeal or charm. I was easy to forget. All throughout high school ninety percent of the population of Forks High School forgot my name, or called me Becca or Beth. I'd had only one boyfriend before that. Mike and I had only dated for about four months. When he became distant and callous I knew something was up. I caught him in bed with Lauren Mallory and walked out on him immediately, regardless of his meager attempts at an apology.

"If you don't believe me just ask every other male you've walked past today, I'm sure they'll be in agreement with me." he said and gave me a wink.

I shook my head again. "Well, I just might have to disagree mister…?" I stretched out the last word, leaving an opening for him.

"Masen." he said with a smile. "Edward Masen."

I smirked at the sound of his name. Edward Masen was the kind of name you'd expect to hear in the news or perhaps he would be a member of congress with a regal name such as that. Edward did not fit his persona much at all.

"I'm Bella," He glanced up from the table at my name and gave me a dazzling crooked smile. "Bella Swan."

"Beautiful Bella," he muttered, eyes roaming over my face, making me self conscious. I fidgeted with my hair, pulling on the strands and pushing it out of my face. "It's very fitting."

I didn't realize I'd been biting my lip until he leaned forward and gently pulled my bottom lip from between my teeth. I felt my heart accelerate and my face flushed automatically. I couldn't deny the rush I felt when he'd touched me. He smirked and sat back comfortably in his chair, looking completely unfazed.

"So beautiful Bella," he started. "How often do you come to Brooklyn Public Library, hmm?" He folded his hands under his chin and gazed at me intently.

I shrugged my shoulders suggestively. "I've been coming here for about a week now. I'm researching for my psyche project."

"Psychology?"

I nodded.

"Interesting," he muttered. "Pop quiz," he provoked.

"What?" I started, my eyes widened.

"Analyze me." He smiled brightly, showing off his white teeth. "Decode my behaviors, Bella."

I set my ballpoint pen down on my notebook and glanced up at my subject. He was leaning forward with his hands clasped tightly under his chin, smirking slightly with one corner of his lips turned higher than the other. His jade green eyes held something deeper; he was hiding something from someone. I picked up my pen and twirled it between my fingers as my eyes moved lower, taking in his clothing and body. "Your tattoos," I waved my pen in his direction, pointing absentmindedly towards his arms, neck, and his eyes. "They mean something, all of them – mean something to you – especially the tree on your forearm, that one hits home."

His eyes widened and he sat back in the chair, stunned.

I was on the right track.

"Your body language suggests that you're closed off from people. You're very stiff, notably in your shoulders; it suggests stress in your life. Friends? No. Family? Yes. You're having problems with your family, aren't you?"

He nodded his head and crossed his arms across his chest. "Enough," he chuckled. "I get it, you're good." He waved his hand in front of him, emphasizing his point. "Honestly, I'm quite impressed."

"Thank you," I said. "I've always had a knack for observation."

"So I see," he grinned at me. "I was wondering," He cleared his throat and uncrossed his arms. I noticed the muscles flex in his biceps and forearms and resisted leaning forward to run my hands down his arms. "To make it up to you, you'd maybe have coffee with me tomorrow morning?" He raised an enticing eyebrow, waiting for my answer.

"Yes," I said, before I could even stop myself, deny and go about my business. It didn't seem to bother me that he was possibly dangerous with a reckless past, or perhaps he was reckless overall. He gave me butterflies in my stomach and made my skin tingle with only one single touch.

"Great," He slipped a small piece of paper across the table. "Your posture suggests nervousness and the pulse in your neck is racing. If you call me tonight, I'll know you're sure. I'll be seeing you around, Beautiful." He grabbed his cane from its resting place and stood from the chair, limping away before I could say anything more.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Let me know what you think of Edward. Mysterious, isn't he? REVIEWS and there'll be tons more Tattward. ;)