Aaaaand here's the next one.

Heart of Glass- Miley Cyrus

Willow- Tindersticks ft. Robert Pattinson

"I, um, c-can I ask for a f-favor?" Edward questioned, crushing an uncooked noodle between his thumb and index finger so the fractures flew across the counter. I brushed them into the sink and dried the last glass, handing it to him to put away.

The spaghetti was sitting heavy in my stomach. Charlie had been kind enough to invite me to stay for dinner after we had come back from Port Angeles, and to his understanding I had only seen Edward for a few minutes the day before, when I dropped him off after coming home from the camping trip.

Alice had been surprisingly chipper for someone a few days post- first hangover, and she flitted about a boutique in Port Angeles with me at her side, chattering about the just war doctrine and Iraq in a tone that was a bit too light for such a loaded topic. Otherwise, though, she was entirely herself- that is to say, completely unique and more than a little eccentric. When Alice pulled out a pair of shears and took it to a tunic of painted silk, slicing it into ribbons in a pattern that I couldn't visualize, I though the salesgirl was going to have an aneurysm until I pulled out a sleek black credit card and assured her we would be buying the top. Even with the generous commission I knew she would be earning from Alice's purchase, she seemed relieved when Alice and I left to pick Edward up from therapy.

It was still amazing to me that two such different people in every way could have once shared a womb. He was characteristically quiet but for the bounce of his leg and the tap of his fingers on my knuckles as our hands stayed weaved together while I drove us back to Forks. And he had remained near silent but for hums and monosyllabic answers to direct questions until after dinner.

"Of course," I said, wiping my hands on the damp towel and putting it out to hang so I could give him my full attention.

"Could I…" he trailed off, and I let him think and waited for his question. He took a deep breath, then another, before continuing. "Would you m-mind if I had s-some t-time alone t-tonight?" he asked, gaze dropping to look at the clean sink as he rolled a pebble of the broken noodle between his fingers.

"What?"

"I… I know th-that even when you're n-n-not here, s-s-someone's always around. S-someone's always listening?" He looked for confirmation, and I nodded slowly. "I j-just n-need a little time alone t-tonight. Actually alone."

"Actually alone?" I repeated, the words turning to sand in my mouth and dripping down my throat like an hourglass, counting down the time until I left Edward. Because I would, of course, do anything he wanted.

"Just f-for a little while."

I chewed on my bottom lip, the skin unyielding and cool under my sharp teeth. "Should I go now?"

"I d-don't w-want to kick you out."

"You're not kicking me out," I promised.

"It feels like I'm k-kicking you out."

"I'll stay until I would usually pretend to leave."

"Which is in b-basically a few m-minutes," he observed, and I shrugged in response.

"Can I ask, why?" I asked quietly, feeling small in more ways than one as I looked up at him.

"I j-just n-need a little time alone," he repeated, adding, "T-to work on s-s-something."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Did you think I would chain you to me and never let you leave?" I joked, and Edward's mouth upturned, one corner slightly higher than the other so that a dimple formed at the crease of his smile.

"B-bring on the shackles," he said, but instead of him to me, he encircled my wrists in his own and used his hold to draw me into him.

"You're a little cryptic sometimes, you know that?" I asked, propping my chin up on his chest to look at his face and offer my mouth to him, if he wanted.

"Am I?" He retorted, arching a brow.

"Absolutely," I confirmed, but when I opened my mouth to tease him further, my words were replaced by his tongue in my mouth, dangerously close to my teeth that I had to soothe him back and suck on his top lip.

I quickly released Edward's mouth from mine and broke his grip on my hands when Charlie cleared his throat and loudly told Alice he was going to get a drink, asking if she wanted anything. It was a not subtle but very sweet warning, and I took the opportunity to pick up a dish rag and throw it to Edward so he could look busy while I twirled a ladle of leftover spaghetti into a Tupperware container.

"Dinner was great tonight, Bella," Charlie said, popping open a beer with the refrigerator door still open.

"Oh, it was nothing," I said truthfully.

"Your mom did a real good job teaching you how to cook. No one makes spaghetti like you two."

"Oh, Charlie." I tried brushing off the compliment, but Edward interrupted.

"It's the p-pasta water."

"What?" Charlie asked, looking at Edward as he wrung the damp towel in his hands.

"The p-pasta water. Bella, and Esme, they both put some of the water they boil the pasta in in the sauce."

"I didn't know you noticed that," I said. "It's the starch. It gets released in the water when it boils, and adding it to the sauce thickens it and helps it bind to the pasta."

"Ah," Charlie said, politely listening but obviously disinterested.

"Well, I better be going," I said, clicking the Tupperware closed and leaving it on the counter to cool. "Esme's planning on repainting, and I better get home before I end up with a bright pink room."

Charlie laughed, and Edward led me out of the kitchen and into the foyer, softly rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"There's nothing for you to be sorry for," I promised, sweeping his hair from his face as the bronze strands brushed against his lashes.

"I d-don't want you to th-think-"

"I doubt I'm thinking what you think I'm thinking."

"I never know what y-you're th-thinking," he laughed, twirling my hair in turn. "That's p-part of the p-problem."

"I told you I don't lie," I objected.

"And I t-told y-you, I know y-you edit," he retorted.

"When should I come back?" I asked, changing the subject. I hadn't even left yet, but I was anxious to get back.

Edward blushed, the tips of his ears pinkening with his neck, and as alluring as the rush of blood was, I was vexed by the reason.

"Can I g-get an hour?"

"You can have all the time you need," I promised.

"An hour's fine."

"An hour it is."

And it was an inordinately long hour. Since meeting Edward, time had lost the meaning it once had. I had always thought of a minute as sixty seconds, and sixty minutes an hour. But somehow, hours blinked by, or minutes stretched on outside of the bounds of rational understanding of linear time.

With all this extra time that seemed to exist within the hour, I wondered. It seemed like I was doing an awful lot of that lately. Privacy was… understandable, I guess. I knew humans appreciated space and alone time, the ability to decompress and relax. But I thought I could give him space and still stay within earshot. So what could Edward be up to that he didn't want me to hear?

I guessed it had something to do with Alice. He was still concerned about her, and they hadn't spoken about what had happened that weekend, what with the party and the drinking. If Edward needed to make sure no one would overhear that conversation, even me, then I would respect that.

I didn't particularly like it, though. I stayed as close as I could without being able to hear, and ran quick circles around the perimeter. Never, not in months, had Edward, or even Alice, been home without someone watching over them. But maybe I was just being overcautious. I mean, I left Edward alone when he was in therapy, including that afternoon in Port Angeles.

There was nothing alarming in the area. The only non-animal scents within a ten-mile radius were of my family, trails crossing throughout the forest from our comings and goings.

I had somehow run lap after lap and only minutes had passed. The forest was dark and misty, humidity clinging to the air from another day of endless rain, though the clouds in the sky were translucent.

I circled around so fast a less-steady creature would have been dizzy, peeling through the forest and streaking across the streets at a speed that a human would have seen as a mere blur if any had been around to witness. I wasn't exactly being cautious, but I didn't have the patience or wherewithal to stop and wait for cars or people walking their dogs.

"Bella?" I heard on one of my laps, and I stopped for the first time since dropping my car off a few blocks from the Swan house. It wasn't a surprise. Carlisle wasn't trying to sneak up on me, and I could hear him coming since he stepped out of the hospital.

"What are you doing running around outside on a Friday night? No hot parties in town?" he jested, and I snorted out a laugh.

"Yeah, you caught me streaking from a frat party," I joked.

"More like training for a marathon."

"Oh, please," I scoffed, pushing in front of Carlisle to walk over to the hospital.

He followed behind me, both of us walking at a human pace and carefully emerging from the brush into the parking lot, looking casual and as normal as two vampires pretending to be human can look. "I think you could have outrun Rose just now," he said, swiping us through the side entrance of the building.

It was, as typical, a quiet night. There were only a smattering of older model cars in the lot, and even the emergency department was empty but for one child with a broken arm and his scared parents. The smell of dried blood lingered and mixed with industrial cleaning solvents in a way that I figured even a newborn wouldn't be tempted by the scent, and the hallways were brightly lit so that the white paint seemed almost reflective and our pale skin glowed under the fluorescence.

"Did you have something you needed to talk about?" Carlisle asked, opening the door to his office for me and closing it behind us. It was a warm little room with a mahogany desk covered with stacks of case files and a welcoming and worn leather couch that I immediately collapsed into.

"Not particularly."

Carlisle sat in the high-backed chair behind his desk and folded his heads, giving me an appraising stare.

"There really is nothing to talk about," I insisted. "Edward is with Alice, and I'm just trying to kill time."

"And your shoes, apparently." He quirked his brow and pointed towards my feet, where the sneakers I had bought only a few weeks ago were forming holes along the toe and the sole was beginning to peel off.

"These are old," I lied, but Carlisle saw right through me.

"I don't blame you for needing to burn off some… extra energy."

"Carlisle," I gasped, prompting a playful grin from my longtime companion.

"No, really. I know Esme and Rose spoke to you, but if you need a different perspective…"

"I never thought I'd be two months from my five hundred and thirty first birthday, and still need a second sex talk. Exactly how oblivious do you think I am?"

"There's a difference between the theoretical understanding, and the practical application."

"And like I told Esme, it's a long way off."

Carlisle shook his head and shuffled through some of the paperwork, flipping open a folder and beginning to fill out a chart. "I disagree."

"And why do you think that?" I asked, knowing that Carlisle and Rose and Esme were all wrong. They hadn't been there when I felt Edward against me in the kitchen, and they didn't see how he had fallen apart. They didn't hear what he had been through for years at the hands of his foster parents. Maybe they had an idea, but they didn't know the details, and for that they didn't understand that it was the whole picture that made me so sure any increased intimacy would be in the distant future.

"He loves you."

And it seemed just that simple. He loved me. Maybe it wasn't to the same supernatural strength with which I loved him, the degree of unconditionality and irrevocability, but it was love all the same. And how far had we come in such a short period of time? He thought I was making fun of him when I first pursued him, and constantly struggled with such severe self-doubt that the slightest kindness could set him off in a spiral of panic.

And then, at first, our touches were so gentle, so chaste. We simply held hands, or a soft-closed mouth kiss was enough. And now… Well, the mere fact that the instance in our kitchen that day a few weeks ago happened was a testament to how much Edward had healed, and how we'd grown together.

It wasn't fair of me to so totally discount him, and clearly my family was seeing something I wasn't. Edward loved me, and he was thinking about sex.

"Bella?" Carlisle asked again.

"I'm scared," I said, voice almost shaking.

"It can be scary," he said, nodding. He got up and walk around his desk, pulling one of the upholstered chairs to sit in front of me.

"What do I need to know?" I asked, voice small. Carlisle smiled softly, reaching over to hold my hands in his, warm and comforting. It was so clear why he was the best doctor in the world. He was one of the most attractive vampires I had ever met, but unlike with Rose or Heidi, it wasn't intimidating or overwhelming. Every aspect and feature of Carlisle was just good, and it shone through. If there was ever a being I would go to for advice or help, it would be him, and even the most tragic of terminal patients would be comforted by Carlisle.

"I assume you know how to use a condom?" he joked lightly, and I couldn't help but crack a smile in response. "Beyond the mechanics of it all, the emotional aspect can be overwhelming. And you cannot be overwhelmed with a human. I'm sure you've found yourself hyper-focused at one point or another?"

I thought of not only kissing Edward, but the moments where I was consumed by my love for him. It could be something simple, like he would be playing piano, and I'd find myself staring at his fingers and unable to look away or devote a significant amount of attention to anything else.

"Imagine that, but exponentially more potent. We're instinct-driven creatures, and the drive to mate is nearly as strong as the desire for blood. However, given that you've never experienced that kind of frenzied thirst, you have no frame of reference for this.

"I can only suggest that you take it slow, and you let Edward know that you need to be careful. This is beyond anything either of you have experienced, and it's also supernatural, so he can't expect a normal human encounter. You need to be communicative, and find a way to keep focused on some kind of touchstone. If you find yourself spiraling, think of one thing, and center yourself around that instead of the experience. Also, have some sort of physical outlet. Hold on to something that isn't Edward, something disposable. As you've heard, pleasure, for us, can be… destructive."

That, I knew, and suddenly I found myself with a new worry. On top of the insecurities and uncertainty, I also needed to think about potentially physically hurting Edward. Entertaining that hypothetical was almost inconceivable to me.

Carlisle seemed to sense my bubbling panic, and squeezed my hands in his own to bring me back to him. I stared into his eyes and let myself feel warmed by the molten gold color and complete acceptance.

"You're not going to hurt him," he promised, wholly sure of his words.

"How can you be sure? Anything could happen!" I shrieked, voice climbing by octaves. Carlisle shot me a look, and I sighed and settled down before the nurse in the exam room two doors down was alerted and came to check on us.

"I am sure. I know you. I know Edward. And I am as sure that you are completely incapable of hurting Edward, in any situation, as I am that the sun will rise in the east tomorrow."

I sucked in a breath, the scent of fresh blood from a suturing a few doors down coating my throat. I swallowed back the reflexive venom that began to flow, easily ignoring the tickling phantom of thirst.

"See, that right there is proof," Carlisle said, pulling one hand away to gesture to me.

"What is?" I asked.

"That's fresh blood, not four feet from us, and you've never been tempted by it. Not even as a newborn did you lose control. It is unparalled-"

"You-"

"No," Carlisle interrupted my interruption, shaking his head. "You can't compare yourself to me like that. I spent two centuries to perfect this. You know, you were there." It was true. Carlisle wanted to pursue medicine, and I helped him with the gradual exposure to fresh blood until he was desensitized. But the drive and compassion was always there. If anything, his dedication was more admirable than just not experiencing that thirst in the first place the way I did, but Carlisle would never capitulate to that argument.

"So what now?"

"Well, that's a question as old as time."

"I mean, sex, Carlisle? Sex?" I voiced the fixation that had been echoing for days in my head.

"'It is the experience of our total humanity, stripped of every shred of alienation, stripped of every premise of aggressive civilization. It is complete self and social actualization'," he quoted to me.

"You've got to stop spouting Taoist wisdom to me," I scoffed.

"Lao Tzu was one of the greatest, most profound thinkers in history. You just don't like the optimism," Carlisle retorted, dropping my hands and leaning back in his chair.

"And still, it's not relevant. I am not human."

"But you do retain your humanity. Otherwise, how could you love? Really, actually love, not the instinctual phenomenon of mating."

"That's…" I sighed, leaning back and folding my hands behind my head. "That's true. And relevant. I'm sorry."

Carlisle brushed my apology off. "Just keep what I said in mind. In my experience, it's accurate. The self-doubt, the insecurities- all of the faults that are facets of our humanity are shed, and in place is just love in its most distilled, purest form."

"But what if-"

"Stop," Carlisle interrupted, holding his hand up and shaking his head. I felt chastised, and shrunk into the couch. "You love Edward. He loves you. That will be enough."

I hung my head in my hands, chewing on my bottom lip so that my teeth almost sliced through the marble skin. It didn't feel like enough. Because how could I be sure how much Edward loved me. Enough to see past the flaws? Our physical differences? I still wallowed in the conflict that brewed over something as small as going swimming, because there was so much exposure in that. We were so different. How can I compare? Human women had warmth, they had softness, they were tender and pliable and everything that human men were biologically designed to want. Other vampire women far surpassed me in basically everything, from beauty to speed to strength- the traits our kind valued.

"You should talk to Tanya," Carlisle said, stopping my spiral.

"What?"

"Tanya. You should speak with her. Or Kate or Irina, but given that Tanya is the most controlled, I'd suggest Tanya."

"Why do I need to talk to Tanya?" I asked, off-balance. We had minimized our contact with our cousins from the north since coming back from Canada, trying to keep them distanced from us in the absolute worst case of implication in any wrongdoing when I went to Volterra. But what did Tanya have to do with Edward, besides being interested in him as the man I had fallen in love with?

"They have the most experience in this. Maybe not the emotional aspect, but physically, she understands more than anyone what sex is like with a human man. Maybe she'll have some tips or advice firsthand that I don't know."

"Oh, of course," I said. "I don't know why I didn't even think of them. Of course."

Carlisle smiled, pulling me off the couch and into a hug. I wrapped my arms around his waist and let him hold me, squeezing tightly enough that we could both feel the pressure. The ends of his blond hair curled at the collar of his starchy white shirt and tickled at my forehead, and I tucked them to the back of his neck and sighed into his shoulder.

"It will be okay," he promised, kissing the top of my head tenderly. "I know it seems complicated and convoluted now, but everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end."

"From Lao Tzu to John Lennon?" I joked, unwrapping myself from Carlisle's embrace and sighing deeply.

"I think he was being facetious, anyways," Carlisle said dismissively.

I bent down to tie my sneakers up and tuck the rubber sole back into the canvas. "Well, that's not very reassuring," I said, tapping my feet down to test the sturdiness, the sole springing back into place. I would have to throw them out when I got home, hopefully without Esme noticing. I almost outpaced Rose in going through shoes, and the waste drove her crazy since we were so conscientious about donating all our excess.

"Emmett mentioned wanting to play a game sometime this week. Can you make time?" Carlisle asked as I walked to the door of his office.

"I don't see why not. Edward seemed to enjoy watching us fight, I don't see why he wouldn't enjoy a vampire sporting event."

"Excellent, I'll let him know," Carlisle said cheerfully, reshuffling his charts. It was clear that I was dismissed, and I was anxious to leave anyways. As uncomfortable as discussing intimacy was, it sure did consume some time, and the end of the hour was fast approaching.

I was grateful to be leaving the hospital. Even after spending decades working with Carlisle, I didn't care for the pungent scent of cleaner that clouded every hallway and corner, and the brisk smell of rain and evergreen was far more favorable.

I ran back to Edward, the moondark air giving me space for thought as it dropped its motes of stardust in the blinkings of rain that misted the night.

It was an interesting proposition that everyone kept insisting on, though I couldn't see it for myself. But logic dictated that if Edward was interesting in sex, it was likely to be with me. And my body burned in yearning to just be touched by him, so I knew I wouldn't argue. I had been trying my best to respect his boundaries and not push him, but even as a vampire, I was still a woman. If anything, the non-human nature just enhanced the desire and made me ever more hopeless.

Edward was sprawled across his small bed, one arm over his hands and looking exactly like a male Psyche, ready to be revived by his Cupid as in Canova's brilliant sculpture work. I crawled through the window, relieved that he was safe and I had nothing to panic about on that front, and crossed the room to cradle his head and take my position as Cupid.

"I missed you," I confessed, hovering over him and gently cupping the back of his neck, where his soft hair curled playfully. "Is that crazy to say?"

"No," he promised, bringing up his hands to weave them into my hair, and I let him pull me down to him so our lips pressed together gently. "I always m-miss you, too. Is that c-crazy?"

"No," I mumbled into his mouth, unable to bear the distance. I was curious about what he had been up to, what he needed privacy for, but I wasn't going to press, and my curiosity certainly didn't overrule my lust, however tame and muted I had to be. I kept one hand on the back of his neck and let the other travel up to his damp hair, twisting through it so I could hold him to me as I rolled on top of him in the small, creaking bed.

It didn't last very long. Edward's kisses began to slow, and I had only been in the room for a few minutes by the time he was fast asleep, breathing heavily and steadily in a deep slumber.

I smiled, unable to hide the giddiness. He was adorable, mouth slightly open and his lavender eyelids fluttering softly as they hid the mysteries of his dreamscapes. In the floor above us, both Charlie and Alice were still awake, moving about their respective spaces in the early hours of the night. I noted no perceptible difference in either of their behaviors, and I wondered what Edward had spoken to Alice about.

If he had spoken to her.

Carefully, without disturbing Edward or moving the mattress, I rolled off of Edward and onto my side next to him. It wasn't rational, but I needed to check that he was, in fact, physically okay.

I carefully folded back the sleeves of his sweater on both arms, and skimmed my finger along the scarred skin of his forearms. I sighed in relief. There was nothing new there, and I felt a little guilty for even thinking there would be. It had been months since he engaged in an act of self-harm, and he wasn't notably anxious or worried when I saw him. I would have been able to tell if he had had some sort of episode of panic, and I certainly would have been able to smell the blood.

But there was something, a different scent in the air that I couldn't quite place. Mixed with the smell of clean shampoo and Edward's natural scent was… something salty? Something sweet? Perhaps some kind of human snack that I was unfamiliar with, though I couldn't imagine why it wasn't abhorrent to me, as all human food was.

I rolled down his sleeve and curled into his side, letting him wrap one leg around my own and tucking my arm under his waist so we were thoroughly tangled together. I closed my eyes and matched my breathing with his, and pretended to sleep so I could join him in whatever world he was experiencing in his unconscious mind.

This became part of our routine. Our days were much of the same, spent lounging around, reading, watching movies, talking. Once the weekend approached, I took Edward to my home so we could go play football, which Edward seemed to find exceedingly entertaining.

"H-how does vampire football w-work, anyways?" he asked, picking up the newly unpacked ball. He had laughed when I told him what our plans were for the day, but he laced up his sneakers and zipped up a raincoat and seemed more than interested in how exactly we managed to play football with just five of us, more than a quarter the size of a normal team.

"The same as the human kind, just a lot faster," Emmett said, bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. He wanted to go already and show off for Edward, but Carlisle and Esme were still getting ready, and patience wasn't exactly his strong suit.

"Usually either Esme or Carlisle play permanent quarterback, so the teams are an even two each," I explained.

Emmett strapped the bag of spare footballs across his back and said, "It's usually Esme. Carlisle cheats."

"I do not!" Carlisle objected from upstairs, and he darted down the stairs so Edward could hear him. "I do not cheat," he insisted, looking at Edward.

"Yeah, you do," I laughed, tucking into Edward's side so his warmth encompassed me. "It's really apparent, too," I explained to Edward. "We have to deliberately over- or under-throw, so it's obvious when he does it."

"Carlisle, I c-can't believe you would ch-cheat," Edward said, smiling crookedly and shaking his head. I curled into him and hid my laughter in his chest as Carlisle stutteringly defended himself to no avail. We all knew the last time he quarterbacked, he threw the game in my favor because Emmett had been annoying him about some debunked paper he had written- under a pseudonym, of course- almost eighty years ago. While it wasn't Carlisle's fault that science had evolved and most everything we knew so long ago was obsolete, Emmett thought it funny to tease him over it, and Emmett paid for it in spades.

We made the game a quick one, mostly for Edward's benefit since he was standing in the rain, though mostly shielded under a towering maple tree and insulated in his jacket. I teamed up with Rose, and we were basically unstoppable against the boys. Emmett was just too easily distracted by Rose, and I could read Carlisle like an open book. It was too easy to predict the kind of route he would run, and we won the game handily.

I carried Edward back to the house, and once he had showered off and warmed up, he and Rose spent the rest of the afternoon at the piano. They had been working on it at least once a week, with Edward practicing reading and writing music and Rose showing him how to use the pedals on an actual piano, since he had only ever played on an out-of-tune and old keyboard. The next day, Edward was again back at my house, this time spending much of the day playing some violent sort of video game with my brother, which also became built into our routine.

Each night, I gave him an hour or so of space to do whatever it was he needed to do without supernatural ears overhearing. And in our days, we spent the time however we pleased, be it with my family or just each other. We shared stories of our parents, shyly explaining that they were memories neither of us could place from deep in our pasts.

I showed Edward the portraits of my parents that I had held on to and travelled with. I had to take the frame from the canvas when Carlisle and I left Volterra, so I unrolled it and stretched the paintings out for him to survey, a finger gently brushing the fading acrylic as he traced the profile of my mother's portrait. I felt beyond dated, ancient even, as he studied the medieval dress and antique style of painting, but he just remarked that I looked like both of them, but shared my father's dark hair and face shape.

Edward dug out a folded, worn photograph of his parents, each holding one of their infant children. I could see what Alice had meant when she told me how strongly Edward favored their mother- they had the same bronze hair, the same straight nose, the same curved lips turned up in a crooked smile. She had been absolutely stunning. And his father was toweringly tall, his dark hair disheveled in such a familiar way that matched both of his children, and I could tell from how he cradled the baby in one arm and held his wife in the other that he had adored his family.

"Alice told me about how you stuck gum in her hair and your mother had to cut it all off," I laughed, tracing along the silhouette of her in the photo. "She seems like a real no-nonsense woman."

"Yeah," Edward agreed, looking at the family image. "B-but wait. She t-told you it was because of th-the gum?"

"Yeah?" I said. "I don't think she's still mad, though. She seemed to find it quite funny."

Edward's brows knitted together, and he reached over to capture the hand I had resting on the photo to thread his fingers through mine. "No, no, I get that. And I d-did put gum in her hair. It w-was at a park, and I s-stuck t-to the ends of h-her h-hair. But that wasn't why our m-m-mom c-cut her hair off."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, th-the gum in her h-hair was j-just at the bottom. S-sure, a f-few inches were cut off, but it w-wasn't like her head was shaved."

"I'm not following," I admitted, and Edward sighed heavily and massaged the bridge of his nose with his free hand, smoothing out the concerned wrinkle between his brows.

"It w-was from a foster home. Th-the first one, b-before… before th-the others. It was just temporary p-placement, but it t-took a while because not a lot of p-people w-want to take in two little kids of th-the opposite s-s-sex. They had two b-biological kids, and one older foster k-kid. But they didn't want us to w-wash our hair in th-the sh-shower. They didn't want our h-hair in the drain. S-s-so we tried using the h-hose, but it was freezing outside. The older k-kid ended up helping us ch-chop our hair off so we d-didn't d-die of hypothermia."

"They showered outside? In Washington?" I asked, incredulous.

"Not them. Just us."

"What?" I asked, repressing the natural rage bubbling in the pit of my stomach.

"Yeah. The f-foster parents and their b-biological k-kids showered inside. If we w-w-wanted to wash our hair, we h-had to d-do it outside."

I was speechless, but Edward didn't seem at all bothered by it. "I'm glad Alice d-doesn't remember. I d-didn't know that she had b-blocked out s-so far back."

I gathered my wits, trying to be as blasé about it all as Edward was. "I thought the amnesia was from being hit on the head?" I asked, remembering the altercation with James he had told me about- the last time either of those disgusting people had been seen. With this new set of foster parents, I would have two more names to add to my list as soon as I could get them. What exactly I would do with this list, I hadn't quite figured out for myself. But having it helped sate the rage that triggered the venom pooling in my mouth, and I swallowed it back dutifully.

"Yeah, in p-part, I guess. But I th-think she was always b-better at blocking out the bad s-s-stuff. At c-compartmentalizing." He flipped open the scrapbook of family memories Esme had put together that I had handed him with the paintings of my human parents. Then, under his breath, he muttered, "Some p-people have all the l-luck."

"Do you wish you could forget?" I asked, curious.

He shrugged, not meeting my gaze as he stared blankly at the yellowed photograph of Emmett and Rose in their first marriage. "It's n-not really an option, so wh-what's the point of th-thinking about it."

"It could be an option," I said softly, this time staring at the scrapbook when Edward looked up at me.

"What?"

"I shouldn't have said anything," I said, reaching over to flip to the next page, and pointed at the offensive Polaroid. "Wasn't fashion horrible in the eighties? Even Rosalie couldn't perfectly pull off those puffed sleeves." And I looked even worse, I added mentally.

Edward barely gave the wedding photo a glance, though. "What d-did you mean? F-forgetting c-could be an option?" he pushed, and I sighed and sat back in the bed.

"I don't want to pressure you," I admitted, though in actuality I really did want to pressure him. I wanted to push, I wanted to beg, I wanted to do everything I couldn't, all because of James and Victoria. "It's just that, well, human memories fade away with the change. Like how I don't remember much of my parents, or of my human life in general." Edward's brows rose in surprise, and I could see thoughts begin to brew. "But," I added, "Everyone works differently. I still remember an extremely embarrassing night quite clearly. Emmett remembers almost nothing at all, while Carlisle, Esme, and Rosalie all remember particularly emotional or traumatic events. It's not a catch-all, which is why I shouldn't have mentioned it."

Where I expected anger or frustration, there was none. Edward reached over and caught my hand in his, and he snaked his threaded his fingers through mine so our hands rested between us on the bed. "Thank you for t-telling me," he said, green eyes deep and earnest. "I w-wasn't looking for a s-s-solution, or a cure. And I appreciate th-the information, s-since it's s-s-something I'll be experiencing eventually."

He seemed firm in his words, and his heart beat steadily as his gaze remained the same. But he couldn't be as sure as he seemed. He just couldn't.

"You s-seem surprised," he guessed, studying my expression.

"This isn't really something we've discussed in depth."

"No, but I've had p-plenty of t-time t-to think about it." We, of course, had different metrics of which to judge how much time could be plentiful. A few short months was barely long enough to select a suitable flooring type for a home remodel, but he had somehow decided on this.

"You don't have all the information," I said.

"We d-discussed it once b-before. I have an idea of what t-to expect."

"You don't understand," I started, but Edward pulled his hand away, using it to run through his hair and scrape at his scalp in frustration.

"You're s-so s-stubborn," he said, flipping the book closed and setting it aside so there was no longer anything between us. "To me, it's s-simple. Maybe it's n-not t-to you, but it is f-for me. I'm going t-to be with you for as long as y-you want me."

"I'll always want you," I said forcefully, wholly and completely sure. It was the most universal, most profound truth. The earth could turn out to be flat and gravity a lie, but I would still know that I would love Edward as deeply as I did.

"Then it's forever."

"That does sound nice," I admitted, but I was determined not to become to attached to the idea. Even if Edward seemed sure now, even if he thought he wanted me in the physical sense, even if he thought he loved me… It could all change. He could finally realize that I wasn't good enough.

"You d-don't believe me," he said, sad but smiling so that his full lips turned up more at one side than the other. "But that's okay. I h-have all the t-time in the world t-to c-convince you." He untucked his legs so that he could sit up on his knees, and leaned forward to kiss me.

"If this is your idea of an argument, count me in," I said against his lips, and he laughed and pulled away, sitting back on his heels.

"We should t-talk about t-timing," he said.

"For your change?" I asked, eyes widening. "I'd imagine we have a few years before we have to think about it."

"Not j-just that. I want to know exactly when y-you're going to leave. When y-you're g-going to g-go to Italy."

"I was thinking September," I reiterated, since I had mentioned it once before, when I had first told Edward that I needed to make the trip.

"I think," Edward started, closing his eyes briefly and inhaling before staring back at me. "I think it w-would be helpful, for me, t-to have a c-concrete d-date. To have p-plans and a schedule, s-s-so I can prepare and know what t-to expect."

I chewed on my bottom lip and processed his request for a moment. "Give me a second," I said, hopping off the bed and running to Rose's room to grab the sleek silver laptop she had purchased to ease the task of online shopping. I was back in my own room in a few seconds, and I sat on the bed next to Edward instead of across.

I opened the web browser and navigated to an airline site, filtering out dates when flights from Seattle to Volterra were available.

"Which one?" I asked, tilting the screen so he could look. He scanned the list, mouth tightening into a line. "What," I asked, unsure of the source of his flare of anger.

"I d-don't want you t-to go," he whispered, lips turning down, and I taste the smell of the tears that he blinked back, then rubbed away angrily with the sleeve of his shirt.

"I don't want to go either," I promised.

"The sixteenth," he said sadly, pointing at the discarded screen.

"That's a good day," I agreed, clicking through the confirmation steps and typing in my credit card number from memory.

"It's l-less than t-two months."

"Six weeks and two days," I clarified.

"What am I g-going to do?" he sighed, staring down at his hands. I reached over to hold one, and scooted myself closer to him on the plush mattress.

"You're going to be fine," I said, an idea coming to me. I grabbed the computer and opened up the document processing app. "Here, we know that you have therapy on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I'm assuming you'll keep the appointment times?" I asked.

"Yeah," he confirmed, and I typed it in.

"And you've been enjoying piano lessons with Rose, right?" I asked, and Edward nodded. "So let's set a time for that. And if you've got time blocked off for Rose, Emmett's going to want some, too. Video games, chess, maybe he can teach you how to play football?" Edward nodded along with me, and my fingers flew across the keyboard. "And I don't want to be presumptuous, but I think maybe a little extra help with math wouldn't be out of line, right?"

"Ugh," Edward groaned. "Calculus."

"Yes, calculus," I laughed. "Esme or Carlisle would be more than happy to help with that. Do you think every day, or three days a week?"

"Maybe every w-weekday would be the s-s-smart move," he said, and I typed it in. "Know your w-weaknesses, r-right?"

"Not excelling in math isn't a weakness," I scoffed. "If anything, it's an essential America trait."

"You're good at m-math," he pointed out pointlessly.

"Technically, I'm not an American," I laughed. "Besides, being a vampire has its perks, math skills being one of them."

"The f-flawless m-memory doesn't hurt."

"It's an advantage," I agreed, finishing the calendar and handing Edward the laptop to review. He read through the days, each one detailed out so far as to when he needed to wake up on schooldays, and his evenings divided between time with Charlie and Alice, time with just Alice, and time with my family. There was flexibility, sure, but there was also structure, and I understood that was what he needed. He needed to have some measure of predictability after a lifetime of instability, and I certainly wasn't helping anything.

"Is everyone g-going t-to be okay with this?" he asked, handing me the laptop back. "That's a lot of t-time j-just t-taking care of me. They shouldn't b-be obligated t-to-"

"Who's being absurd now," I interrupted, using his own words against him. "Emmett would spend as much time with you as I do, if he had any say in it. And for that matter, Esme, too."

Edward flushed a bit, but seemed a bit more comforted. "Are y-you implying that Rosalie and Carlisle d-don't l-like me?" he teased, and I laughed and tossed the laptop across the bed to hug myself to him. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders, and I fell into him on the bed.