A/N: Hello, gorgeous people. I hope you're having a glorious last day of August.

Let's see how our kids are doing with this awkwardness.


"Are you…blushing?"

Edward let out a little huff of a laugh, his steps faltering as they got closer to his door. "I was second-guessing myself; trying to think of something, well, else we could do."

"No." A quick step brought Bella up beside him, and she bumped her shoulder against his. "The deal was you show me your favorite new hobby."

They'd had three successful coffee dates. Quick things where they discussed safe-ish topics. They already knew their hobbies overlapped in the great outdoors. Both of them had scaled a mountain or two in the time they'd been apart. But when Edward tried to search for the words to explain his other interests, she'd told him to save it for their next date.

Not a quick coffee date, but an extended date. At his house.

"I have a lot of interests," he said. "I could have taken you to a baseball game."

She wrinkled her nose. "Favorite new hobby. I'm still not a fan of sports. Some things don't change."

He paused, his hand on the door. He was so aware of her nearness, the occasional brush of her body against his. He found her eyes and allowed himself a long look.

"No," he said, voice rough and low. "I suppose some things don't."

Her breath stuttered.

He couldn't help it. His eyes darted to her lips.

And just as quickly, he looked away, opening the door to let her inside.

"This is an upgrade," Bella said, doing a little spin as she took in the open floor plan of his little house.

"It seemed like a good investment. Emmett's kids are going to need somewhere to escape him for a few hours at some point," Edward said.

The day he signed the papers closing on the house had been surreal. It seemed strange, as if he was moving on, though he hadn't been able to put his finger on what he was moving on to. The postage-stamp-sized apartment he'd had after Bella left him was just a place to sleep. The house, he supposed, was where he was meant to have a life—one without Bella in it.

And yet, there she was. In his home.

She paused, her gaze lingering on yet another bay window.

Edward winced against the memory. The lightning. The downpour of rain. Bella—face drawn, shoulders stooped, furious and broken, and as desperate with sadness as he was. Bella—tucked under his chin for the last time, curled up in his arms, finally warm.

The second worst night of his life; though, it felt like blasphemy to think of it as such. How dared he? When he'd been given a gift so far beyond his wildest dreams. How dared he think of it as such a black night, when she'd come to him, she'd listened, she'd let him spill all the words that had been storming in his head since he'd said the godawful things that had made her leave. For chrissakes, she'd let him take her in his arms one more time.

And then, she'd left. Again. And he'd only barely survived. Again.

But there she was, letting him earn her smiles and her laughter; giving him bits and pieces of the life she'd lived without him. He was living in the moment. There was no sense in acknowledging what would happen if she left again. That ship had sailed the moment they'd locked eyes across a rocky clearing a split second before literal lightning struck.

He tilted his chin up and flashed a smile at her. "Okay, well." He pointed to a doorway. "The kitchen is through there. Everything is set up."

Bella followed him into the kitchen and stopped short. "I…whoa."

Edward grimaced. "It's okay if you want to make fun of me. Emmett does."

She snorted. "'Because Emmett did it' isn't a ringing endorsement to do much." Her tone was fond. She'd had such a special relationship with Emmett that his older brother had grieved when she left. "No, it's not that." She gestured at the table with a dismissive hand wave. "We'll get to that in a second. But what is that amazing smell?"

Edward had been so nervous about showing Bella his hobby that it took him a second to process what she was talking about. "Oh. Dinner." He pointed to one crockpot. "Pulled pork. The hoagies are almost done. They're in the oven." He pointed to the other crockpot. "Green beans with bacon."

"You're…baking bread?"

Edward squirmed, but a small smirk played on his lips. "Bread is another hobby I've picked up. Kneading the dough is therapeutic. And it's useful for any kind of gathering. Fancy homemade bread makes me the star of any potluck."

A strange look came over Bella's face; something so inexplicably tender, Edward sucked in a quiet breath at the way it made his heart stutter. It was such a familiar look; one of those expressions people who had been together a long time still gave each other in those moments when one of them had done something the other found cute or charming.

"There you are," she murmured.

"Here I am?"

She seemed to realize the change in the air between them. Her eyes went wide for a split second before she looked away, her features tight with something like indecision. She flexed her fists at her side, and then looked up at him, somewhat shy.

"That's what this whole thing is supposed to be about, isn't it? Dating." Her nose scrunched, and he had to smile.

Yeah, three dates in, and it was still strange to be dating this woman who still felt like the other half of his soul.

"I've been trying to figure out…" Bella knitted her brow and glanced at him. "I couldn't tell if you'd lost your muchness for good."

He recognized the Alice in Wonderland reference, but still didn't understand what she was trying to say. He waited, and she smiled.

"You were always such a show off, Edward. Good at everything you ever did, and not afraid to let everyone know. So confident."

"Most people call that arrogant," he said with a smile.

"Yes." She grinned.

"Well, go ahead." He gestured at the table. "Take me down a peg or two."

She pressed her lips together, her eyes dancing. "Is that a dollhouse?" she asked, tilting her chin at the dollhouse on the table.

"Not…classically." His cheeks were still hot, but he wasn't quite as uncertain as he had been. "It's the same basic idea, I'll admit, but it's for grown-ups. This—or something similar—is how I started, but I don't use the kits anymore. Id on't actually do many houses anymore. I'm on to other things, and I do everything by hand." He pointed at the space across from where Bella was meant to work. In front of her seat was a whole house—two-story, simple, and empty. In front of his seat were parts—a miniature construction zone.

She crossed her arms. "You don't think I could put something together from scratch?"

"I think you could do anything." He winked at her, enjoying the fact he could still make her blush when he did. "But it is harder than it looks. And this kit isn't exactly easy. Look."

The kit was a book nook. There were shelves on which tiny books could be stacked and sorted, a ladder, a comfy couch, wood floors, an end table, and a carpet.

"And look. It's got working lighting." He showed her the bag with the fairy lights that were meant to provide the tiny room with a soft, welcoming glow.

It was clear, by the time Edward was done explaining, that Bella was pleased by the kit he'd bought her and the idea of spending this date putting it together.

"And what are you going to be doing over there?" She quirked an eyebrow at the miniature construction site on his side of the table.

"Well, it's a pool…during a zombie apocalypse."

"A…what?"

He rubbed the back of his neck and gave her a sheepish grin. "Once you start building your own, themes tend to appear. I saw something similar on YouTube. Building the pool and the pool area are the hard parts. But after I have the epoxy resin filled, you just have to put some zombies in the pool and a poor guy trapped on a floaty."

"Epoxy resin pool," she muttered under her breath. "Show off."

He smirked, pulled out her chair, and they sat down and set to work.


A/N: What a nerd, amirite?