The air was soft, warm like the first sunny days of spring. Edward heard her laugh, not so distant as usual, and smiled. He couldn't help but smile when she was happy. He'd always found her laugh infectious, when they were young and through their odd, distant parallel lives. He used to think it was a sign he should have seen, one of many things that drew him in and he had pushed away. With time, he'd moved past blaming himself and through acceptance. He heard her laugh, and felt again the joy of her happiness.
"Edward!" she called, lightly. Very close. He hummed in noncommittal appreciation. She seldom answered him in these dreams. "Edward, open your eyes."
He frowned, pressing them closed. Why should he want to wake, back to the dreary, empty monotony of his life? Why should he want to return to waiting, only to come back right where he was? The grass beneath him was softer than any grass he'd ever felt, far softer than his lonely pious bunk. And she was here, or at least his memory of her voice was. If he opened his eyes he'd surely wake, and find himself alone in his plain room, or worse – having nodded off in a random place, as he did the week prior when he sat to rest under a tree alongside the road. No, he did not want to wake.
"It's alright," she reassured him. "I'm here. You're not alone."
"You'll go," he muttered, almost petulantly.
She laughed, a free thing. "I won't go," she told him. "You're here now. Where else am I going to go?"
He considered it. She'd never actually asked him to open his eyes before, had never promised not to leave. Had it really been years since he'd seen her face? Would he remember her accurately, if he opened his eyes now? Always he'd seen glimpses of her, the curve of her cheek, the shining tendrils of her hair, the teasing sparkle of her eyes. It had been so long since he'd seen the entirety of her face. If it didn't work and he woke, all he'd lose is a dream. But if it did…. It'd be worth waking, this once, for the chance to see her again. Even if it was only a dream.
"Open your eyes," she asked again. And he did, blinking up at the cerulean blue expanse of sky.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Bella asked, flopping unceremoniously into the soft grass beside him.
Edward hesitated, wanting to turn to her, afraid she'd disappear when he moved. Bella as he remembered had been a quiet, patient woman. Bella in this dream, it appeared, was not overly quiet or patient.
"Over here!" she teased, grasping his hand. Both gasped, feeling a shower of tingling sparks travel from the point of contact.
Edward turned to her, amazed to see her completely whole. Not just whole, but young and more radiant than he'd even remembered.
"You're young," he blurted.
"Yes!" she grinned. "So are you!"
His brow furrowed in confusion.
"No," he explained. "No, Bella, it's been a very long time since I was young."
"Not here," she told him. "Look." Gently, she guided his hand to his face. He felt for the creases across his forehead, the sagging folds around his faded green eyes, and found nothing but smooth skin instead. He looked to his hands, for the gnarled knuckles of age, the wasted hollows of bony limbs. They were strong, as fit as they'd been in his late boyhood. He laughed, surprised.
"What is this?"
"Don't you know, Father?" Bella teased.
"I…," he began. "Know?"
Bella scrambled agilely to her feet, further confusing Edward. Hadn't she always moved slowly, carefully? Agile was not in Bella Swan's list of abilities!
"Come on," she told him, reaching again for his hand. "They've all been waiting, such a long time."
"Who has?"
"Everyone, of course! I barely convinced your mothers to let me be the one to see you first. They wanted to all come! Can you even imagine? You'd be overrun!"
"Wait, just.. Bella?" Edward called. "They're here, too? My parents?" He swallowed past the lump in his throat.
She stopped to smile up at him, reassuring. "We can go later, if you want. Do you need to sit down again?"
"Maybe, just a moment." Edward sank back to the lush grass, noticing the multitude of wildflowers. Many he'd never seen, lovely iridescent colors. Now he thought of it, their perfume floated everywhere. How had he missed them before?
"You're going to love it here," she told him, softly. "It'll feel like home before you know."
He looked to her, smiling, and squeezed her hand.
"You're really here," he wondered aloud.
She nodded. Edward raised her hand to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss to her palm.
"You're here Love, and I'm home."
The end!
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