Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.
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It's been three days since I've seen Edward.
Three days since he sat here, in my apartment, in that rocking chair over there, and told me jokes.
I still can't get over that.
The history notes I'm supposed to be studying sit on my lap, unread, barely even looked-at. Instead I stare at the rocking chair, smiling.
Interrupting cow.
"Moo," I whisper quietly.
Yeah, still can't get over that.
Instead of beating himself up over my mini-meltdown, Edward had tried to cheer me up.
The Edward I knew before wouldn't have done that. The Edward I knew before would have agonised. He would have shut down and shut me out. He would have turned everything on himself. Blamed himself. And I would have felt bad that he felt bad...and I would have blamed myself.
But this Edward didn't think about himself, he thought about me.
And he didn't try to solve the problem by leaving. He listened to me when I told him I was alright, and he stayed.
And he made me smile again.
I wonder now at the change in him and I remember Alice's words ... Edward's not the same person he was...
Moo...
I think of how he asked if I'm always in the library on Tuesdays before he said his final goodnight. I remember how I closed the door behind him and leant against it, grinning, barely breathing, then how I ran, stumbling, to the window to watch for him. He'd already been crossing the street, head down, satchel over his shoulder, hands sunk deep in his pockets. The rain was spotting his jacket and sitting like diamonds in his hair. He stopped at a dark blue car parked by the curb. As he opened the driver's door he hesitated and I wondered if he would look up.
He did.
He looked up.
And he smiled and lifted his hand in a wave. And I waved back, happy that he'd looked for me, shy that he'd caught me watching for him. Then he drove away down the street and I had flopped on the sofa, hugging myself.
I hug myself again now and wonder when I'll see him next. Tuesday, I hope, in the library. Though if I'm honest, I've been hoping he might seek me out before then. But he hasn't, not so far, anyway.
I've looked for him each day at school, in the corridors, the college grounds, but there's been no sign. At work my head snaps up each time the door opens and a new customer walks in...but it's never him. My phone has been quiet.
Now a small flicker of doubt comes creeping.
What if I got it wrong?
What if he was just being friendly, but doesn't want to be my friend?
I'm not a good friend for you, Bella...
His words from so long ago make a haunting return. In the quiet of my apartment their memory echos loudly. I begin to wonder if Carlisle was right when he said Edward might make different decisions this time around. He still might think he's not a good friend for me. Maybe he's spent three days thinking about it...and has decided to stay away.
It's possible.
It's something I have to consider. Something I have to accept. And I can't let all my thoughts, my decisions, my life, revolve around something that might not happen. I did that once before, I won't do it again. I can't.
My stomach clenches and rolls. My eyes blink and burn. My mood swing would rival Edward's.
I need a distraction.
It's almost eight o'clock and I realise I haven't eaten dinner. I'm not hungry, but cooking will keep my mind busy. I hope.
I shed the notes from my lap, get off the sofa and take a recipe book from the small shelf in the kitchen. I pick something complicated, something that will take time and precision cutting and lots of ingredients.
An elaborate salsa sauce fits the bill and I'll roast some vegetables to go with it. The list of ingredients is long - I have most of them, the ones I don't have I think I can manage without, except for the garlic. I think I definitely need the garlic. But there's no way I'm getting in my truck and driving to the supermarket at eight o'clock at night just for that. There's one of those 24-hour convenience stores two blocks away - their prices are expensive but tonight I'll make an exception. And the walk might do me good. Even if it's cold and dark, at least it's dry.
I pull on my jacket, grab my bag but when I open the door I gasp, and take a startled step back.
Edward Cullen is standing outside my door.
"You're going out." He frowns at my jacket and bag.
"Just walked in," I smile and drop the bag on the floor but he knows I'm lying - there's the subtlest twitch of his lips. "Um, hi Edward."
"Hello Bella." He smiles back, but it's cautious.
We stare at each for a moment. He's here. He came back. And it's not even Tuesday. My heart is fist pumping inside my chest. See? it's telling me, told you he'd come back.
Suddenly I realise he's still standing in the hallway.
"Sorry..." I roll my eyes at myself and pull the door open wide. "Do you want to come in?"
I step back. Edward seems hesitant and I realise now that his hands are behind his back, but he nods and walks slowly into my living room. I close the door and there's silence, except for my heart - even I can hear it.
Edward looks around, he subtly shifts his weight from one leg to the other - most people wouldn't notice, but I do. It's a very human gesture, it's uncharacteristic, and it tells me that he's nervous. His hands are still behind his back.
"Um, do you want to sit down?" I gesture towards the sofa and Edward looks at it but doesn't move. Instead he takes a slow breath in - his face is so serious.
My heart stutters now - I have the feeling he hasn't just dropped in to say hello.
"I've been trying to think what to do," he says cryptically, frowning down at the rug. "I'm not used to..." The frown deepens, I can see the crease between his eyebrows as he shakes his head, exhales quickly and looks up at me. He swallows and I watch the slow movement of his throat. There is apprehension in his eyes and in his voice.
"A birthday is something to be enjoyed. And I thought you might like to have a new one."
Now he brings his hands from behind his back.
In his right he holds a small chocolate cake with a blue candle in its centre. In his left is a snowglobe with a wide red bow sitting on top.
"To add to your collection." He shrugs shyly.
I can't speak. I can't even breathe. I look up and Edward's eyes are serious and sincere but still so apprehensive. They stare directly into mine and he gives me a hesitant, crooked smile.
"Happy birthday, Bella."
My heart is too full, I still can't speak, and even if I could there are no words. No words at all. This is too much to take in.
This man, this beautiful man, is standing here, wanting to give me back what I've lost, trying to make something right out of something wrong - and he doesn't even know what the wrong, is. The thought behind his gift is so tender, so precious...I want to weep...
"You're...you're giving me a new birthday?" I whisper hoarsely.
He swallows again, smiles down at me, right into my eyes. "You should be happy. It's...important...that you're happy..." His words fade away and he's frowning softly again. His eyes flicker to his outstretched hands and the gifts they hold. "Is this alright? Perhaps it's..."
I nod vigorously. "Yes. Yes. It's alright, yes." I swallow down hot tears.
Edward's smile widens and his face floods with relief. The caution drops from his eyes and his stance and he makes the subtlest roll of his shoulders. Then he uncurls a finger from around the snowglobe and, still smiling, beckons me to follow him.
We make our way to the counter that separates the kitchen from the living room. Edward sets down the cake and the snowglobe and we sit, side by side, on the mismatched wooden stools. Edward pulls a box of matches from his pocket, lights the candle with a theatrical, exaggerated flourish that makes me giggle - his relief has made him playful. He winks as he pushes the cake towards me.
"Make a wish," he smiles. "It's traditional."
I look at his smile, the cake, the little flickering candle, my snowglobe with its beautiful bow...I'm overwhelmed once more and now the tears spill unbidden down my cheeks.
"You're crying?" He's suddenly aghast.
"I'm happy," I choke out quickly. "Just really, really happy." He looks uncertain for a moment but my shaky, teary smile convinces him and he relaxes once more. He smiles back at me.
"Have you made your wish?"
I nod.
"Then blow," he whispers, pushing the cake a little closer.
So I blow, hoping I don't spit all over the cake. The tiny flame flickers and disappears, a thin curl of white smoke takes its place then it vanishes too. I calculate the date in my head.
"October twenty fifth," I sniff. "My new birthday is October twenty fifth."
"Is that okay?"
The tears come with sound effects now and a sob breaks free.
"It's perfect," I croak. "This is all perfect. You have no idea...I...thank you, just...thank you so much."
I wipe my sleeve over my face. "It was my pleasure," Edward says softly. "Do you need tissues?"
His question makes me laugh and I shake my head. "No, the sleeve is good."
He grins, and I'm still trying to take it all in as he picks up the snowglobe and hands it to me.
It's the type you'd buy from a souvenir shop and I laugh some more as I shake it and little white flakes swirl around a plastic mountain with a miniature of The Portland Building in front of it. On the black base it says Portland, City of Roses in plain white print. My fingers gently touch the red bow.
"You have no idea how precious this is," I whisper.
My heart swells until it feels too big for my chest and now I can't stop myself - I slide off my stool, close the small gap between us and slip my arms under his, wrapping them around his waist. I hug him tight. I press my cheek against him. I shut my eyes and it feels so good, so familiar, so right, the hard span of his chest beneath my cheek. So many memories, there were so many nights he lay in my bed with me curled up against him, and his arms around me.
But his arms aren't around me now.
I'm so caught up, remembering, savouring, that it takes me a moment to realise that Edward is not hugging me back. I open my eyes and see his arms held slightly away from his body, away from me, like he's trying not to touch me. I unwind myself and step back as I slowly look up at him. His eyes are dark now, and wide as he stares down at me, watching me warily, like I'm a snake about to strike. I'm reminded of his words that day in the meadow...I wasn't expecting you to come so close.
Slowly he lowers his arms. My heart burns in my chest.
"I'm sorry," I say quickly. "I didn't mean..."
"Don't apologise," he smiles, cutting me off. The smile is polite and easy, his features are smooth now, unreadable, but the movement of his throat belies his calm. He gives himself away again when his foot taps rapidly on the rung of the stool - somehow it's soundless, but its movement catches my eye.
"I should probably go," he says.
What? No! NO!
"Please don't, not if you don't have to." With enormous effort I try to sound casual. "Stay and celebrate my birthday with me."
Edward looks uncertain again, scowling down at his hands on his thighs, and I wonder if it's just my hug that's spooked him so much, or something else. I walk around the other side of the counter, giving him space.
He's looking down. I can see his struggle in the tightness of his jaw, in the way he holds himself, the way his fingers curl into his palms. I look away as I get a knife and a plate and cut myself a slice of cake. I grab a spoon and dig in.
"Delicious," I mumble through a mouthful. "Thank you."
"It's good?" His eyes are on me again.
"Mm, really good."
His face relaxes in a smile but I'm left open-mouthed and staring when he picks up some crumbs and licks them from his fingers.
"Um, good?" I ask. He doesn't answer, just smiles.
"You like cooking?" He nods towards the recipe books lined up, and the one open on the counter. Whatever his internal conflict, it looks like it's over for now.
"Most of them belong to my mom. She gave them to me when I moved out on my own."
"Tibetan Cooking for the Soul." He reads the spine of the book on the end of the shelf. "What have you cooked from that?"
"Nothing. It's hard to get yak at the local Safeway." Edward smirks and this makes me grin. "Actually they're all vegetarian recipes. No yaks were harmed in the writing of that book." Now he chuckles softly and I come back around to my stool and sit again.
Edward's eyes wander along the counter to the small pile of papers that sit by the coffee jar. There are a couple of bills, a credit card statement, but on top is an invitation from Alison to a halloween party.
"Dress to Distress," Edward arches an eyebrow at the party theme written in spooky-style lettering. "Who is Alison?"
"We work together at The Drum."
"Are you going to go?"
I shrug my shoulders and cut myself another piece of cake. Suddenly I'm hungry.
"I said I would. She's so excited and I don't want to hurt her feelings, but Halloween's never really been my thing."
"No trick or treating as kid?"
"Oh, I did that," I grin. "A kid never turns down free candy. But the fancy dress parties and stuff..." I shake my head. "Not my thing."
As I'm speaking I realise that Edward and I have never had this part of the year. I knew him from January to September. We never had Halloween, or Thanksgiving, or Christmas, or New Years. I don't know what he or his family do for any of these holidays. Do vampires celebrate Christmas?
"What about you?" I lean my elbows on the counter and rest my chin in my hands.
"I don't really do Halloween, either." He smirks softly, as though laughing at some private joke. It reminds me of the school cafeteria in Forks, when it felt like he spoke in riddles and code. But now I've broken the code, I'm in on the joke - of course the vampire wouldn't do Halloween.
"Thanksgiving?"
"Yes," he answers simply, and I wonder what a vampire Thanksgiving would involve so I carefully probe a little bit,
"Do you do the traditional thing?"
"We spend time together as a family," he says vaguely. I guess that means the Cullens hunt together instead of separately.
"Do you watch the football game?"
"Absolutely," he grins now. "You can't have Thanksgiving without the game."
"What about Christmas?" I realise I'm leaning in closer. Edward rests one elbow on the counter, his hand cupped around the back of his neck - the space between us is getting smaller.
"Christmas is big," he admits. "I have a sister, Alice, and she goes all out with decorations and a tree." He gives an exaggerated eye roll and I laugh. I can just imagine Alice at Christmas.
"A real tree?"
"Of course."
"How big?"
"Huge." Grinning, he holds his hand up high above his head.
"You give gifts?"
"Don't most people?"
"Oh, sure, yes, I just...wondered."
He looks at me curiously. "Why so many questions about the holidays?"
I don't know what to say, my mind races and it's a moment before I come up with a version of the truth.
"It's hear what other people do," I shrug. "We all talk about tradition, but not everyone celebrates the same way, sometimes people make their own traditions."
Edward eyes me for a moment. "You're right," he murmurs.
I shift on my stool, taking my hands from my face and tracing patterns on the counter top with my finger instead.
"So, you have the big family Christmas, then?" My mind swims with images of the Cullens around a Christmas tree, exchanging gifts, tearing through wrapping paper, laughing. I realise I'm smiling as Edward starts speaking again.
"You could say that. There are seven of us. Alice and I live with our brother, Carlisle, and his wife, Esme."
My finger stops making its patterns.
Carlisle is his brother, now? This is news. When I've spoken with Carlisle and Alice neither of them mentioned this. But I suppose it makes sense...Carlisle as a foster father doesn't make sense when Edward's a sophomore in college. I'm processing this as Edward continues.
"Esme's brother Emmett and his wife Rosalie live with us too, although they travel a lot...they're away right now. And then there's Alice's boyfriend, Japser."
Emmett is Esme's brother, Rose and Jasper are the in-laws. I blink at Edward, trying to digest this reshuffle amongst the Cullen household.
"That sounds like a houseful."
"It is."
"But you like being part of a big family?" I've always assumed, I've never actually asked.
He chuckles softly to himself. "Sometimes it's difficult. But I also know I'm lucky to have them."
"Do you ever..."
But I don't get to finish my next question. Edward turns away, shifting his gaze back to the party invitation, and I know it's his way of ending the conversation about his family.
He picks Alison's invitation up between his long fingers and studies it.
"What distressing costume will you wear?" he asks.
"I have no idea. I haven't even thought about it, yet. Any suggestions?"
He shakes his head, smiles, and puts the invitation down again.
"Tell me about your holidays," he says. My mind does a quick mental shift as he changes the subject again. I measure my words carefully as I mention Charlie.
"Um, my dad's fairly traditional. But Renee is always trying for something different."
"Like what?"
"Well, one year she decided to have a minimalist Christmas."
Edward's eyebrows lift in surprise.
"What does a minimalist Christmas involve? Or, should I ask what it doesn't involve?"
I laugh at the qualification and tell him about the white painted bucket and the bare, white painted tree branch that sat in it, with the single white Christmas bauble hanging from the top.
"Doesn't sound very Christmasey," Edward chuckles.
"It wasn't," and I'm grinning, because hearing Edward Cullen say Christmasey is gorgeous for some reason. I don't know why.
He reaches out now and gently nudges my little snowglobe with the knuckle of his index finger. We watch the flakes eddy and flutter at the bottom but they don't go anywhere.
"You've always lived in the sun," Edward murmurs.
"Mostly," I say truthfully.
"No white Christmases."
I don't answer.
"Phoenix and Florida...how do you find Portland?" He looks up at me. In this light, at this angle, he could be an angel.
"Portland's just fine."
One half of his mouth curves in a smile and he looks back at the snowglobe, nudging it again.
"Do you miss Florida?"
"Not really. I mean, I miss my mom, but I wasn't happy there."
"But you're happy here?" His eyes are back on me and I nod. "What about friends? Don't you miss them?"
"I had a couple of good friends in Florida, but it was all very loose and casual. They weren't the sort of friends..." I try to think how to explain. "They weren't the sort of friends you'd tell things to."
"Tell things to?" He cocks his head in that way he has...so familiar.
"You know, someone you can really talk to, about anything."
"Someone to tell your darkest secrets to," he teases.
"Exactly," I smile.
He studies me, eyes speculative now.
"You've kept secrets for others, I think." He speaks gently, softly, as though to himself, but his words stop my breath, I can't meet his eyes. You've kept secrets for others... For someone who can't read minds it's like he's looked inside my head and read me like a book.
I feel a shift in his mood. He picks up the spoon that lies on my plate and plays with it, watching it see-saw smoothly between his long fingers. His beautiful face creases softly into a new frown.
"Would you ever be friends with someone you probably shouldn't?"
My heart pounds in my chest, its sound fills the my ears, fills the room. Such a loaded question, but such a hopeful one. He's testing the waters, testing me. And I know this question, he's asked me one like it before, and this time I'm ready for it.
"I'd have to know why I probably shouldn't ."
The spoon stills. He lifts his eyes and looks directly into mine.
"If it was someone unsuitable? Someone dangerous?"
"I'd have to know what sort of danger."
He blinks at me, my response has surprised him.
"I would think danger means danger, however you look at it."
I shake my head. "There are degrees. And types. Like, some people think skydiving is dangerous, but other people do it for fun. You have to look at whether the danger is real or perceived. And there's a big difference between making a reckless choice and an informed decision. You'd need to tell me more before I could answer."
I've spoken quickly, I'm almost breathless and my heart is still pounding. I can see the thoughts racing behind Edward's gaze and I wish so much that I could read his mind. I get a sense of the frustration he must feel, having had that ability and lost it.
"You should always make informed decisions," he says quietly, firmly. I get the feeling he's just made a decision of his own. My heart clenches and I wait for him to say I should stay away from him.
Suddenly he smiles, his posture relaxes. He taps a quick rhythm on the counter top with the spoon before putting it down.
"So you're saying you'd jump out of a plane, as long as you had the right equipment and the proper training?"
"Are you kidding? No! There's no way I'd parachute out of a plane, that is definitely too dangerous!"
Edward laughs, it's a beautiful sound as he throws back his head and I'm grinning. My heart slows, my body relaxes.
"So no parachuting then?" he grins back at me.
"Definitely not."
"Very sensible," he nods.
He's still smiling as he drops his eyes and rubs his hands over the denim on his thighs. Slowly the smile fades.
"Bella, is there anyone who would mind me being here with you?" He lifts his eyes, looking at me through his lashes - he's apprehensive again. His fingers are splayed open over his thighs but they're digging in, I can see.
I bite my lip, my heart somersaults inside me.
"No, there's no-one."
His fingers relax and he nods.
"What about you?" I ask him. "Is there anyone who would mind you being here?" I'm assuming the answer is no but I'm still relieved when he shakes his head.
"There's no-one."
I smile. So does he. My hands burn to touch him, hold him. I sit on them. Suddenly Edward looks away, his hands clench as he folds his arms across his chest.
"I should probably go," he says and stands up swiftly.
"Oh, really? You're sure?"
I get off my stool too but I'm not as smooth as him - my foot catches on the rung and I pitch forward. Instantly Edward has me by the elbow, supporting me; with his other hand he untangles the stool. When I'm standing securely on both feet he lets me go.
"Thanks," I mumble. It's the first time he's touched me, and even though it was through the sleeves of my jacket I can feel heat where his fingers have been.
"Are you alright?" he asks.
"Fine."
He smiles and turns to head for the door. In a moment he'll be gone.
"Before you go, I want to say thanks again, for my new birthday. And for the cake, and the snowglobe. Tonight was the best birthday I've ever had, Edward, I mean that."
Edward smiles down at me, it's a smile so tender I almost cry again. "You're very welcome," he whispers.
Then his hand is on the doorknob.
"I guess I'll see you around?" I shrug, trying to be casual but this feels too fast, I don't want him to go but I don't feel I can ask him again to stay. He opens the door. He's leaving.
"I'll see you around," he says. I want to ask when but I bite my lip - have some dignity, Bella. Let nature take its course.
Edward says goodnight quickly and I watch him disappear along the corridor and down the stairs.
When he's out of sight I shut the door and like last time I run to the window and watch for him, but tonight he's not there. There's a dark blue car parked down the street, towards the corner. I think it's his, but at this distance I can't be sure.
I wait.
One minute.
Five.
He doesn't appear and I wonder if he's been too quick for me and I've missed him. Or maybe he parked in the street behind my building.
I wait another minute then give up and collapse onto the sofa, hugging myself and grinning. He wants me to be happy. My happiness is important.
He gave me a new birthday.
Fresh tears burn.
Happy tears.
He has no idea what happened to me two years ago, he doesn't even know when my birthday is, but he did this just to make me happy. I look over to my half-eaten cake and my snowglobe and they are more precious to me than gold or diamonds.
I get up and walk over to my little snowglobe and pick it up, smiling as I shake it and watch the flakes tumble and swirl. The red bow is so pretty. It's soft and silky and has been beautifully, elaborately, tied but it unfolds easily as I tug on one end. I move to the shelves where my Phoenix snowglobe acts as a bookend to my cd's, and put my new addition down.
I put Portland next to Phoenix.
Snow next to sun.
Rose next to thorns.
It looks good, my little collection of snowglobes.
Then I pull the plain black elastic from my ponytail and tie the red ribbon in its place.
I think back over Edward's visit, replaying out conversation, his expressions...his questions. I feel hope bloom in my heart.
Hope.
The smile spreads wide across my face.
So perhaps this is what he's been doing since I saw him last - planning my new birthday.
I wonder if he's spoken to his family about me, I wonder if Alice had seen his plans in her visions. I've been so tempted to call her these past three days but I really need to let this happen naturally, without inside information, and she understands that too. So, as excited as I am right now, I won't be rushing to the phone to share my news. I don't think I would anyway, even if things were different, because tonight was personal, just between Edward and me. I reach up and touch the ribbon in my hair.
Tonight felt so new, we talked about things we'd never talked about before - I think again of the Cullen's at Christmas and Thanksgiving. And though the question of danger still raised it's head Edward's anguish didn't seem to be there. I was expecting him to tell me to stay away, or suggest that he was bad, but he didn't. Instead he wanted to know if I was seeing anybody. Well, that's how it seemed.
I hug myself again.
There's a knock at the door and I jump, stumbling backwards into the rocking chair.
I do a sort of hopping limp to the door, hoping it's Edward but knowing it' probably Mrs Upshot from down the hall. Lightning doesn't strike twice. And the Upshot cat goes missing regularly.
But tonight lightning does strike twice.
It strikes bright and brilliant and when I open the door it is Edward, hair in his eyes, hands deep in his pockets.
"Me again," he smiles shyly.
"Hi."
"Hi."
More smiles.
But then his face becomes serious. He takes his hands from his pockets, clasps them behind his back.
"I was wondering," he takes a deep breath as he begins. "I was wondering, if you're not busy, Bella, would you come ice skating with me tomorrow night?"
There's anticipation in his face, he's squared his shoulders. I blink at him, absorbing his words.
"You're asking me out? On a date?"
"I...yes I am."
My heart leaps and cartwheels until I realise exactly what he's said.
"Ice skating?"
He nods, but inside me my heart has curled into a ball.
Ice skating.
Narrow steel blades on a slippery surface.
I'll make a fool of myself, no doubt hurt myself and probably somebody else. But I don't want to say no.
There's no way I'll say no.
But I've taken too long to answer and Edward smiles politely, bowing his head slightly as he takes a step back.
"But of course if you'd rather not..."
"No, it's not that!" I say quickly and reach out, not quite touching him. He stops and looks at me, the anticipation is back. "I'd like to go ice skating with you, Edward, very much. Thank you."
I'm rewarded with a dazzling crooked smile and for a moment I'm lost. I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. "Um, but I should tell you, I've never ice skated before. And you've seen how I can't even get off a stool. I'll probably..." I flail my arms about a bit, trying to give him the idea. "It won't be pretty. It could be dangerous. Not just for me."
There's the faintest quirk of his lips, he's trying not to laugh.
"Well, I could help you," he offers. "I'm a very good skater, and we can go to a late night session, there wouldn't be many people. We can keep the casualties to a minimum."
I smile at his joke, and his small boast. Though I've never heard him mention ice-skating before it doesn't surprise me at all that he's good.
"I won't let you fall, I promise." He smiles softly, his eyes are so sincere.
I smile back. "I trust you."
There's a flicker of some new expression on his face, but it's been and gone before I know what it is. My phone rings and my head turns automatically towards the sound. The ringtone tells me it's Renee and I let it go to voicemail.
When I turn back to Edward his lips are parted, his eyes are surprised but I watch as they soften - now his eyes are smiling.
"You're wearing the ribbon," he says quietly.
"Oh."
My hand goes to my ponytail and I pull it over my shoulder. The tail of red silk hangs down amongst the strands. Edward's eyes shift from the ribbon to my face and suddenly I feel shy.
"I thought it was pretty," I murmur.
He lifts his hand. I hold my breath as he reaches towards me and his long pale fingers touch the tip of the ribbon, then brush gently against a curl of my hair.
"Very pretty," he whispers. Then he slowly drops his hand. "Tomorrow, then," he smiles, and then he's gone.
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A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long. But, the next chapter is basically complete and should be posted before the end of the weekend :)
Thank you to Edward's Eternal for her beta prowess and friendship :)
And thank you for all your reviews and messages, they are appreciated more than I can say :)
The Keepsake made it into the Top Five for the Fic of the Week on The Lemonade Stand! That's incredible and I want to thank those who nominated and voted for me - your support means so much :)
Next chapter before the weekend is over :)