I am so sorry for the delay! There is no excuse for leaving you all hanging as I did. I was on vacation and lost all motivation to work on this fic… Which is weird because I was literally in Forks. That's right! I went to the Pacific Northwest with a few other Twilight girlies and saw Forks and La Push. It was beautiful and perfect and amazing. I wish there was a way to share all my pics with you guys! I watched New Moon for the first time since it was in theaters and Eclipse for the first time ever! (We only watched the wedding and honeymoon of BD, so I still have no idea what goes on lol).

I think the rest of this fic should wrap up quickly…. Let's cross our fingers for weekly updates because I might be on track for that.

B-POV

I purposefully dropped my breakfast at Edward's feet on my doorstep. Yogurt splattered over his shoes. Almonds rolled down the steps and scattered in the grass. He wasn't fooled by my innocent smile or what-can-you-do shrug. With an indiscernible frown, he bent down to pick up the newly bruised apple, scanned my head—presumably looking for a bump or bruise that would explain my odd behavior—and offered to take me to breakfast without question.

We strayed off our beaten path towards the dining hall, conveniently placing Edward and me on the route that Jessica and Angela took to their morning class. Naturally, Mike and Ben were with them, walking them to class. I grinned. It all went according to plan. I couldn't help it. I was too excited to see Ben and Mike's reaction to Edward. According to Emmett, Edward was all smiles right away. The misanthrope refused to admit it, but he was thrilled to talk to people without their thoughts in his mind. I didn't blame him.

Ben and Mike smiled when they spotted Edward. Actually smiled.

"Hey! There's the slayer himself!" Mike called out, waving to Edward.

Still awkward in person, Edward ducked his head. However, there was an unmistakable glint of glee glistening in his golden eyes. Along with the begrudged smile that often appeared on a boyfriend's face when his girlfriend was right, and he was wrong. It only took one friendly chat with Mike and Ben to make conversation easier for Edward. Long gone were the distracting thoughts of disdain. Not while Edward was their slayer.

"Good morning," Edward said, unsure of what to do with himself when people actually liked him. My smile grew.

Angela's face was a perfect picture of patience as Ben excitedly regaled her with the tale of Edward's impressive skills. During the conversation, Jacob lumbered up to our group. I watched his expression go from friendly to hostile as he saw who Mike was talking to. He greeted his friends, careful to ignore Edward and me.

"The guy was born to be a vampire!" Mike tacked on to Ben's story with a laugh.

Panic seized me. Edward placed a steady hand on my back. Still, it was a struggle to remain calm, even under his touch. This was what we wanted, I tried to remind myself. We needed Jacob to think vampire things around Edward. Mike's comment was helpful, not hurtful.

"He's got that old world charm," commented Jessica, a bit too charmed herself.

"My money's on vampire Bella," Ben teased, "she acts like my grandma."

"Dresses like her, too." Mike elbowed Ben.

Edward was a far better actor than I was. While I stared at Mike with wide, incredulous eyes, Edward gently laughed. He smoothed the fabric of my vintage peacoat. "Then your grandmother has impeccable taste."

As the group discussed the possibility of Lauren being the vampire, Edward tenderly wrapped his arm around me, angling me so my face was hidden from Jacob's scrutiny. His own expression was unreadable.

Eventually, Angela looped her arm through Jessica's, "We have a class to get to. You all can continue this rousing discussion without us."

"Same time tonight?" Mike asked Edward, his expression hopeful.

"Not tonight. I have a prior commitment with my brothers."

"Aight, just message us when you're going to be on, and we'll join." Mike held out his fist for Edward to bump. Edward regarded it for a long moment before he gently pressed his fist to Mike's. Then, both boys hustled after their girlfriends.

Which left us with Jacob. I was too much of a coward to look at him, but I could feel his stare on the back of my head. I couldn't imagine what he was thinking. Hopefully, it was something useful for Edward.

"Dude!" Mike called back. I cowered against Edward. "You coming?"

Jacob yelled something that had Mike in stitches. I didn't hear what the joke was—I was too busy willing him away.

It was too late to grab anything for breakfast, but I wouldn't have been able to eat anything, anyway. My stomach was in knots. The other students in our first class were too bleary this early in the morning to pay us any notice. Unlike the other classes where people carelessly gawked at Edward, no one looked up to see that I was shaking with fear as we took our seats in the back.

"It's alright," Edward took my hand and held it between the aisles, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb, "Nothing was shared that Jacob didn't already know."

"He's going to tell them," I gulped, "They're going to hate you."

"He won't tell anyone," Edward's voice was so low, I could barely hear him. The closest person to us sat two desks away, his head covered by his arms, probably asleep. "Hunters want to keep our presence a secret as much as we do. They don't want any innocent people to put themselves in harm's way trying to hunt themselves."

"That's very noble of them," I muttered, bitterly.

"They are noble," Edward agreed, only he was sincere. "Hunters are technically the good guys. If Jacob is any good at his job, he's done more good for this world than I have."

I scrutinized Edward's beautiful face. Surely, he didn't believe that. He offered a wistful smile, and nothing more.

We continued our conversation after the professor concluded the lecture. Ambling through the crowds of students, Edward deftly guided me with his hand on the small of my back.

"Did you catch anything good from his thoughts?" I asked, hopefully.

Edward's mouth hardened. "I have yet to catch a thought from his head that I was particularly fond of. As of right now, he's looking for definite proof before he goes to his leader. They recently had a false alarm and they're being extra cautious. My eye color is throwing him off—they're used to black or red. He suspects contacts."

"So, vampire vegetarians are as mythical to Hunters as they are to everyone else."

Edward nodded—the smallest inclination of this head. His thoughts were elsewhere: back in Jacob's head. "He's thinking of ways to provoke me. Force me to move too quickly. Lift something too heavy. It won't take him long to realize all he has to do is threaten you. It wouldn't take a genius to see I would risk anything—everything—to keep you safe."

I tightened my hold around his fingers, limply laced through mine. "Then it's a good thing Jacob's as thick as he is tall."

Edward didn't smile at my joke. Judging from his vacant expression, I wasn't entirely sure he heard it. "Perhaps we should stage a breakup. Cut ties. Get you off their radar entirely."

"No!" I gasped, horrified. I skid to a grinding stop right outside our next class. Students bumped into me, throwing me glances with a wide range of emotion from concern over my obvious distress to irritation over the sudden stop. Edward pulled me aside, angling himself between me and the flow of students to shield my horror from curious eyes. It took three shaky breaths to find my voice again. "That's a terrible idea, Edward."

His face was grave. "Bella, your safety is a bigger priority than our… personal feelings."

I would have slapped him if the action wouldn't have left me with a broken hand. "That is about my safety!" I lied, first, then thought of an excuse. "What are you going to do when Jacob is by my side, every day at lunch, while you are forced to stay far away because we've supposedly broken up? How are you going to protect me if you couldn't come near me in public without stringing together a bunch of lies?"

Just as I suspected, he didn't have an answer.

"If anything, separating will put me more at risk. Jacob will see right past the ruse. The second we break up, he'll strike. Then it'll be me on my knees, my blood split to taunt you."

He flinched.

"Then, it's settled," I declared, sauntering into class with my chin held high, "You stay right here with me, where you belong."

Despite my bravado, Edward's ill-conceived plan shook me to my core. My skin was flushed, and my heart fluttered like a hummingbird's wings. I needed a distraction. "What are your plans with your brothers tonight?"

"Hm?"

"The plans with your brothers. The reason you couldn't log on or whatever with Ben and Mike."

"Oh," understanding smoothed his features. "There aren't any plans. I'm not going to play that game anymore."

"What?" I demanded. "I thought you had a good time!"

"I did."

Class began at that moment, so I had ninety minutes to sit and stew. Edward could tell a storm was brewing. He kept his gaze fixed on his notebook, never looking up once. I pounced before the professor finished their concluding sentence. "Why would you lie to our friends like that?"

"I'll do something with Emmett and Jasper tonight, so it's not a lie. Will that make you feel better?"

"That's not the point!" I cried. Several students looked in our direction. Edward paid them no notice as he gathered my belongings on my behalf. "You were having a good time with them."

"I'm sorry, Bella," his voice was hard, yet sincere. I reluctantly let him help me into my coat and usher me out the door. "You must trust me, my love. It's better for everybody in the long run if I keep my distance."

"What about Jacob? The plan was for you to get close to him. How are you going to do that without Ben and Mike?"

"I have an hour with him every day at a public lunch table. We don't need any more than that."

I huffed. "Why can't you play just to have a good time again?"

"I told you—,"

"Bullshit," I snapped. Edward blinked in surprise. I surprised myself, as well. I rarely cursed. "Better for who? Better for you?"

"Better for everyone!" he repeated, emotion leaking through. "How would you feel if you discovered your friend knew every deep, dark secret you ever harbored?"

"Seen and supported."

"You'd feel violated," he answered over me.

"Why do you think that's the only outcome? Because from what I can tell, the only person bothered by your gift is you. No one in your family cares that you can read their thoughts when they're dancing with you or creating art with you or…"

"Rosalie does."

At the sight of Edward's crestfallen features, I bit my tongue. Rosalie had been nothing but kind to me during every, single one of our encounters, but her hatred for Edward was palpable. It was in her every look, her every word. She absolutely despised him.

"It doesn't matter how I act or what I do." The anger burning in his voice was aimed internally. "I know more about everyone than I have any right to. I invade everyone's privacy, taking what I need. I'm a parasite. A literal leech—down to the blood I drink."

"That's not true!"

At this point we were outside the dining hall, arguing under the awning. Jessica flagged us down. I was too irritated with Edward to rearrange my expression into something more welcoming. Right when she reached us, she took a step back.

"Is now not a good time?" she asked, dark eyes flickering between the two of us.

I squeezed my eyes shut, "What is it, Jess?"

"Did you bring your lunch?"

"No. I skipped breakfast, too," I recalled. At the same moment, I realized I was ravenous. It was probably why I was so annoyed with Edward.

"Great call!" she commended. Before I could ask what she meant by that, a box of protein bars was stuffed into my hands. "Jake says his friend is a personal trainer at that fancy boutique gym and he swears by these for weight loss. Surprise!" she added with a little flourish.

Her smile was so sweet, so genuine, it was hard to gather the proper fury. "Thank you."

"You better watch out," she wiggled her eyebrows at Edward, "your girlfriend is going to be a real heartbreaker."

Edward didn't return her smile, but Jessica didn't stick around long enough to notice. She breezed into the dining hall, leaving me with a scowling boyfriend and a box of strawberry-flavored meal replacement bars.

"I am going to break her arms," Edward said, resolutely.

"Don't," I said, begrudgingly. "She's being nice."

Very gently, Edward placed his finger under my chin and tilted my face up to meet his golden gaze. His eyes were sad as they traced my features, dropped with dejection. "I disagree."

I fell into his arms. Had he been human and lacked the necessary grace and speed, we would have tumbled to the ground. But as Edward always did, he caught and steadied me.

"You can read her mind. You know better than anyone that she's acting with kind intentions."

"In all the years I've lived, I've learned the thoughts in someone's mind aren't what matters most." He spoke with the sage wisdom that came with immortality. "If someone thinks ill of another, yet acts with kindness towards them, isn't it the kindness that matters? Not only does the cognitive decision to rise above pettier thoughts speak of the person harboring them, but the recipient only feels the benefits from the kindness shown towards them."

"Then, I'm right not to be upset with her," I concluded. "Because if her thoughts about me are worse, I should be happy with what I have."

"Jessica's actions reflect her thoughts. I'm suggesting the hurt you feel matters just as much—if not more—than the thoughts behind Jessica's actions."

"But I know her heart is the right place," I said on her behalf for the millionth time.

"Well, I think it's about time we move it someplace else."

"How do we do that?"

"Well, think of the time in that vintage store with Emmett and Rosalie, where a minor misunderstanding caused a tiff. Rosalie's outrage mattered just as much as Emmett's good intentions. All it took was a short conversation and the realization of what the other needed to set things right."

I frowned. "You told Emmett what Rosalie was thinking. What are you going to do? Tell Jessica what I'm thinking?"

"No. But you can tell Jessica what you're thinking. Jessica thinks she's being nice. She wants to be nice. Simply tell her how to be nice to you."

"I can't possibly do that."

"Why not?"

It was difficult to put into words. It seemed too easy, too convenient. Voicing my feelings would inevitably hurt Jessica's. Wasn't it better not to stir the pot? In my opinion, her thoughts did matter, and I could stomach her ill attempts at kindness as long as kindness was behind them.

"You deserve to be treated with the kindness you want to receive. It's okay to tell people what that is."

"You know how to be kind to me. I don't have to tell you."

"That's because I was created to make you happy," he said simply. "You're not going to eat those, are you?"

I frowned at the box of meal replacement bars. "I don't want to. But I also don't want to ignore Jessica's gift right in front of her. She was so excited."

Edward sighed. The sound was torn between disappointment and adoration. "Come on," he took my hand once more, "I'll take you somewhere off campus. Do you want some soup?"

He truly was created to ensure my happiness. Content, I nodded. With another kiss on my hair and a squeeze around my hand, we made our way back to the commuter lot.

"Why isn't it the same for you?" I asked while we were in the car. The heat was at full blast to combat the chill. Edward turned down the music—some retro Scandinavian thing he was trying to get me to like—and returned his hand to my thigh.

"Hm?" he hummed.

"Why aren't your actions more important than what's in your mind? As far as I know, you've never acted upon what someone has thought."

"I only do that to keep my telepathy a secret."

"No," I shook my head. "It's beyond that. You choose to look past thoughts and judge solely on actions. So, why isn't that more important than you having too many thoughts in your mind? Who cares if you know too much if you never act upon it."

"It's…" he struggled to come up with an answer.

"I'm right," I decided. I scooped his hand into both of mine. "I'm sorry that Rosalie feels the way she does. I'm sorrier there's nothing that can be done other than what you already do. But you shouldn't base your conclusion around the outlier."

"I knew we shouldn't have taken Statistics this semester."

I ignored him. "Everyone else in your family loves you just as you are, trusting that their thoughts are safe with you. Because they are, aren't they? They're safe with you. By your own logic, that's what matters more."

"I'm not entirely faultless."

"No one is.," I rubbed my hands down the length of his forearm. "You're not nearly the burden you think you are."

I watched his expression as that sunk in. It remained stoic, unmoving. When he finally reacted, he flexed his jaw, a challenge in his eye. "Fine. You know what? I will continue to reach out to your friends on one condition: Tell Jessica how you feel. If she doesn't want to change for your benefit, then I don't want to be friends with her boyfriend, anyway. How's that?"

"Fine." I agreed, immediately. If Edward was created to make me happy, then I was created to claw happiness out of my miserable, lonely vampire piece by piece.

E-POV

After class, I found Rosalie in her happy place: in the garage, wedged under her latest creation. Years ago, she surpassed my mechanical skill simply to be petty but truly found her passion. While I merely appreciated the classics for what they were, Rosalie built her own models.

She could tell who was approached by my tentative footsteps. No one else needed to be mindful of their approach. She readily welcomed every other member of the family.

I knocked on the trim of the door. "Hey."

Once she thought of a song to efficiently distract her thoughts, she slid out from beneath the car. Grease smeared on her face, donned in a tiny pair of denim shorts, she looked like a model on the cover of a car magazine. She looked at the empty space beside me, expectantly. Then, her frown deepened. "Where's Bella?"

I nodded towards the house, "With Esme and Alice."

"She likes them."

"She likes you, too. You could hang out with them in the studio."

She snatched a towel from her toolbox and wiped her hands, "You know arts and crafts have never been my forte."

I grinned. "You only caused one, little fire."

"You love to bring that one up." she groaned, playfully.

"I do believe modern sewing machines have built-in safety guards. Though, I'm not sure foot pedals have ever exploded like that for anyone else, even when there was a risk."

She raised an eyebrow in challenge. "You want to talk fires? No fire will ever be worse than yours in 1933. I've never seen flames so high." She laughed—the sound was like ringing bells, "Or heard your voice so high pitched."

I joined in on her laughter.

"Thank God none of Carlisle's art was caught in the fire. Or Emmett's bigfoot evidence."

"That's because I lived apart from you all," I recalled, with a frown.

"Right," Rosalie agreed, the playful energy in the room dissipating. "We lived in a townhouse in the city… You were in a cabin."

"I, um, came out here because I was hoping you'd help me with the Vanquish." It wasn't the real reason. Since my conversation with Bella in the car, I wanted to test her theory with Rosalie. If I could prove to my sister it didn't matter what she thought around me… I wasn't sure what it would mean quite yet. I was terrible with change. I figured I would try, anyway.

She frowned. "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing," I said, quickly. "Just time for a tune-up, I believe."

She nodded. Moving at a slow, human pace, we gathered the appropriate tools and walked over to the garage I used to store my cars.

"What are Bella, Esme, and Alice making?" she asked, attempting to make pleasant conversation.

"Alice is teaching Bella how to sew."

"Oh, I didn't realize Bella was into fashion."

"She isn't really," I explained. "She likes the stories behind vintage clothes more than the clothes themselves. She wanted to learn to sew to tailor things for herself."

The song in Rosalie's head grew louder, more oppressive as it kept her thoughts at bay. I moved the conversation right along. "They're working on making dresses with Esme's embroidery. Yours was completed first. It's fitted, yet elegant. You'll love it."

She smiled, picturing herself draped in Esme's beautiful, handmade fabric. "And the others?"

"I stole some of the fabric to make the skirt Bella's shorter," I admitted. "It backfired. They found old green fabric to supplement."

"You dog," It reminded her of something Emmett would do, so Rosalie had to smile. "It's not a total waste. She looks pretty in green—goes great with her coloring."

"I know," I sighed, longingly. Bella looked pretty in everything. "Alice's has the fullest skirt you'll see on someone other than a ballerina" I grinned, thinking of the absurd amount of tulle.

When you look like a twelve-year-old boy, you need all the help you can get, Rosalie thought. Then, cursed herself.

I spoke over the thought, hoping to turn it into water under the bridge. "Esme's is similar to yours…" As much as I wanted to, I didn't judge Rosalie for her first thought, but the ones that followed: she loved Alice, Alice was a talented seamstress and beautiful in her own, perfect way.

But the deed was done. Rosalie was furious at herself for her vein thought, and even angrier at me for witnessing it. Her eyes hardened. Our fragile comradery crumbled into pieces.

"What's your problem?" she demanded.

"There's no problem…"

"What? You sought me out just to flaunt being the bigger, better person?"

"No! Rose…"

She was angrier at herself than she was at me, which only made her more upset. "God, you're so annoying," she seethed. "Why do you have to seek me out? Why do have to be here at all!?"

"I'm sorry…"

She dropped her toolbox before she could crush it between her hands. It hit the ground with a thundering thud. Tools ricocheted against the metal, prolonging the sound. "What good are you? All you've done is endanger the family with your recklessness. Twice someone figured out what you are! Twice you've put us all at risk!"

I had no argument in me. As she always was, Rosalie was right.

"The one thing you can do—the one fucking purpose you have—you failed at! Your human had to figure out who the Hunter was because you're too preoccupied with lording your gift over the family than keeping us safe. Leave—before you inevitably cause any real damage. Everyone is better off without you."

Throwing her dirty towel in my face, she stormed off. Presumably to find Emmett.

I remained where I was a few moments after, to give her a gracious head start. If Bella wasn't in the house, I would have left entirely. Spared Rose from having to see me at all. She was more hurt than I was. Her words weren't anything I hadn't heard from Rosalie or thought about myself. In fact, I expected them. Conversations with Rose always took such a drastic turn.

When the coast was clear, I returned to the house. I figured Bella would be in the studio with Alice and Esme, but I found her in my room, sitting cross-legged in the center of my bed. Her sweater was tied around her waist. Her dark hair was tied up into a knot on the top of her head. There was a textbook to her right, a plate of cheese and apples to her left, and a notebook in front of her.

She blinked up at me. "Where have you been? I thought you would be up here."

"In the garage." It wasn't a lie, necessarily.

Just as I knew she would, she wrinkled her nose. She wouldn't pry further and risk any sort of car talk. Careful not to jostle the books or cheese, I joined her on the bed, lounging lengthwise. I pulled her back by the waist and coaxed her to lean back against me. I left my arm draped across her lap as she nibbled and studied. Comforted by the scent of her skin and the feel of her under my arm, I let my eyes flutter shut.

"I was hoping you were in the basement, playing that game with Ben and Mike."

I struggled to maintain a neutral expression. I secretly wished she would leave the subject alone. Yes, the comradery was nice. For now. I recalled Rosalie's ire and envisioned it on Angela's sweet, gentle face. I cringed away from the mental image. So far, Bella's friend hadn't thought anything she didn't voice or put into action, which made her so much easier to talk to. Ben and Mike weren't particularly cruel, either. But all it took was one bad day, one moment of weakness on their part, and I would breach their trust and privacy.

If Rosalie—someone who knew my intentions and understood I was a prisoner of my own gift—couldn't forgive me, how could I expect them to?

I couldn't have friends. Just as Rosalie implied, being a member of this family was a gift I didn't deserve.

Bella would be disappointed. Hopefully, she would understand. My isolation was nothing like her insecurities, caused by the ignorance of others. I ran my hand over her stomach, slowly, savoring the softness. I circled her belly button twice with my pinky before I finished the slow journey. My hand stopped at my favorite part of her body: the soft part under her waist, leading up to the generous curve of her hip. How anyone could wish her body away was beyond me. Every curve, every dip, was perfection.

"What are you doing?" she murmured, "I need to have this memorized before our quiz tomorrow."

I splayed my fingers out. "Just a little memorization of my own."

I gave her one more squeeze before I backtracked across her stomach, with the intention to repeat the circuit. Then, she yawned, stretched, and collapsed over me. It was dangerously appealing. The bed and the dainty, lace camisole she wore under her sweater certainly didn't help matters. I shifted so we lay in the same direction. Despite the layers of pillows behind us, she rested her head on my arm.

"I mean it, you know," she said, seriously, referring to our conversation in the car. "You can have friends."

"I know."

"There's nothing to fear."

"I know."

She sighed, seeing past my pretenses. She always did. "I want you to be happy."

"You make me immeasurably happy."

She truly was all I needed to be happy. To show her, I kissed her in earnest. She gasped at the sudden intensity but immediately matched my kiss with a fervent passion of her own. This time, I was slightly less gentle as I trailed my fingers across her stomach, squeezing as went, ensuring every part of her was thoroughly groped. Lewd as it was to touch her in such a manner, I couldn't help myself. Her shirt was thin, her skin was soft, her body was warm. I pulled her on top of me, positioning her legs so they straddled my torso. I left my hands there, on her thighs. Senselessly squeezing as my hands traveled to the back of her thighs.

She began to sit up, to break the kiss. I wasn't quite ready. I followed her up, pressing gentle kisses to her bottom lip as we rose simultaneously. She placed a hand on my cheek. I let her push my face back.

"I love you," she said, her eyes clear and miles deep.

I smiled back, pleased that her thoughts were safe from me so I could earn that love.