Sweating out confessions
The undone and the divine
'Cause this is his body, this is his love
Such selfish prayers and I can't get enough
Florence & The Machine

Bella

I was laying contentedly. Completely relaxed.

So many things I could hear—cars flying down the freeway miles away, the gentle babble of the stream a few hundred yards from the house. Quiet breaths of seven other people, all of them tasting the air as I was doing. Soft music was playing—Tchaikovsky. An intoxicating scent was closest to me; perfumed and recognisable. I knew this person, as I knew the others I could detect further away.

There was no warmth or cold in my body. I wasn't sore or numb. I was simply well. Something told me all these things were going to be even more joying than I'd realised. Excitement crackled and I slowly opened my eyes.

A beautiful face—divinely beautiful.

Edward.

My heart was burning again but it was exquisite instead of painful. The heat flashed through me, spilling out of my chest and into every cell of my body. I was drowning once more—the notion a sweet relief. I was drowning in Edward. My mate. Everything he was, I was. And everything I had been before and would become was his too.

"My Bella."

Edward leant down to kiss me, sealing the bond that had shrouded me the moment I saw him again. Electricity skittered across my skin and I lost myself in the fathomlessness of the kiss but then became aware that his hands were warm on my jaw.

I frowned. That wasn't right, was it?

We both got to our feet and I drew his hands away and examined them. They were strong and comforting; I remembered that. Pushing at my foggy human memories, I pulled up how icy he was. I touched his palm to my cheek. Why wasn't that there?

He smiled. "We're the same temperature now."

Oh, of course.

My fingertips traced his lips then travelled over his nose and brow, and into his hair. He closed his eyes at the feeling, humming contentedly. I remembered this too. Edward had always been beautiful and now I could finally see just how much.

"Edward."

My voice was clear and familiar. I repeated his name, just for the pleasure of it, then became aware of the others again.

Turning in Edward's embrace, I saw the rest of my family, almost for the first time. My gaze flitted over them, grinning. This was happiness too. They were all smiling excitedly. My eyes flicked to the person at the end of the group and I froze.

My every instinct activated—danger. I bared my teeth at him in warning; venom covered them, ready to attack.

Edward's arms tightened around me, soothing, but I was already relaxed.

Jasper. I knew him. My brother. This was a man of war, death was no stranger to him. His hundreds of slashes from vampire teeth were unfathomable. There were eighty-three on his neck alone.

"Do they hurt?" I asked, agitated.

Jasper's voice was warm. "No."

"I'm sorry I got scared."

"Don't worry about it. Everyone does."

"That's not fair."

"I'll give you a pass. Since you're so young and all," he teased.

Young? Was that what this feeling was? Every sensation caused excitement and eagerness, and other things I couldn't quite identify. I knew there was a way to tell I was young but couldn't recall it.

Edward put his hand under my shirt, wordlessly reminding me that I was naked beneath, before asking; "Do you want to see what you look like?"

I nodded vigorously—that was the way to tell, I knew that now. He lifted my shirt over my head and turned me to Alice's gilded mirror that was propped up against the wall, the object I'd used to model the outfits she'd made for me.

"I'm glad you had your priorities straight."

"I brought it in before Edward injected you," she defended.

Edward released me so I could see myself fully.

My skin was white as marble. My sharp eyes zeroed in to search for blemishes and I couldn't see a single one; the ridges of my scars were gone, only the lines remained. My long hair was incredibly dark, the disparity between it and my skin extreme; I threaded my fingers through it, feeling the silkiness. The curves of my body were even and my face had a more attractive symmetry that I remembered hadn't been there before.

But I was still me. I recognised my smile and my shape.

"You're almost as pretty as I am," Rosalie laughed.

I wrinkled my nose at her reflection; the human response I'd goaded her with before blinking mutedly to my mind.

Only my irises made me pause—the thing Edward had been talking about, the thing that marked me as young; unstable and violent. Memories came, others who'd had these eyes, and those memories brought fear.

"They'll lighten," Edward reminded me comfortingly, drawing me back into his arms.

"Yours as well?"

"Yes. Yours will take longer."

"How?"

"Animal blood."

Now that he'd said it, I knew that was the answer. My mind called up all the recollections I had of this topic; Edward hunting, Charlie hunting—deer, mountain lions, turtles, snakes—my blood in a jar, crimson and delicious. Wait, why had I thought that?

"You drank my blood," I remembered.

"It was wonderful; like nothing else—"

"Cantante," we said together.

"Why can't I remember everything yet?" I asked anxiously. "I know who you are, I know all of you. But I can tell there is so much missing …"

"Things will come back," Carlisle promised.

Carlisle's voice reminded me of something else.

"Did the injection work?" I asked. My fingers went to my ribs automatically, feeling for the site but there was nothing.

"It did; two days instead of three. Although it … burned just as much." His expression was pained, as was everyone else's.

"Something happened. Something that made you all afraid," I said, lifting my gaze to Edward as well. His terror was seared into my brain. He had been looming over me, crushing my chest as he tried to force my heart to pump blood around my body.

That same look was on his face now.

"I thought your heart had stopped," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "We thought we'd made it work too hard with the injection. We always had trouble hearing your heart and lungs and the sounds disappeared completely towards the end as you grew stronger. But you were still alive. It had been your shield."

Racing to save him; the red eyes of a covetous ancient vampire; Edward wanting to die because he thought I was dead; a newborn army; throwing my shield from my palms; sharp teeth tearing my arm … hundreds of others memories flooded in.

I brought my hands to his face, soothing him. We were both safe now and always would be.

"Shield?" I repeated, needing him to clarify my recollections.

Edward smiled. "It stops Jasper, Alice, and I from seeing and hearing you, although it's much stronger now."

"I can't see you at all," Alice said morosely. "You're completely indistinct, even twined with our futures. You're in them, I just can't picture your reaction. It happened the same moment—we'd thought—"

Reaching for her, Alice enveloped me and Edward in a hug, the rest piling in, making me laugh. My brief sadness was immediately chased away.

When they released us, Jasper stood in front of me.

"Can I see if it's changed as well?" he asked.

I smiled, putting my hand in his. There was nothing anymore and by his expression, he couldn't sense me either.

"Sorry."

Jasper was wary. "It's going to make controlling you much harder. Newborns are stronger than us anyway but with your shield as well … I don't think we'll win a fight, even with so many of us."

"I'm not going to fight you!" I cried, alarmed.

"You won't do it on purpose," he said pacifyingly. "But newborn thirst is different."

"You'll be fine, Bella," Edward promised. He shot Jasper an annoyed look. "You've been preparing. You're already very focused."

"Am I?"

It didn't feel like it. My mind had a million thoughts at once as I took in everything. Even as we'd been talking I'd been taking note of the size and layout of the room, calculating how near and far things were, how many scents I could detect. Memories were spinning around as all these things sparked recollections from when I was human. But Edward's hands were on me too, and I loved that—so many of those feelings were quickly at the forefront and I was completely distracted.

Edward smiled amusedly at my new expression and bunched up my shirt, putting it back over my head and helping me work my arms into the sleeves.

He traced his thumb over my lower lip. "Hunt first."

I wanted to argue but then became aware of the dry scratch in my throat—it grew more painful as I fixated on it, driving out everything else.

Breathing deep, I searched for the warm blood that would slake my thirst. Dozens and dozens more scents came into my lungs but none were right. I was conscious of Edward's fingers woven with mine and my family following in my wake, but little else.

Edward nudged me into the woods. The softness and scent of the trees made me recall the last time I'd been here; Edward kissing me, thanking me for my blood. I wanted his mouth on mine again.

I jerked to a stop and it caused him to overbalance, almost swinging into me. That reaction didn't fit with any of my memories of him and I froze.

"It's okay," he soothed, kissing my fingers. "You're strong, that's all."

"Did I hurt you?"

The many times he'd asked me that rushed in.

"No, nothing like that hurts," he reminded. He squeezed my hand and pulled me deeper into the woods.

Ferns and moss; pine, spruce, maple, cottonwood … other trees I didn't have names for yet. Earth and stone, algae, lilies, water … I could hear the rustle of bird feathers miles away, the scurrying of worms and critters in the soil as they raced away from us. Water winked on a spider's web that was strung between two twigs seven yards to the left. Tiny beetles scooted over leaves.

I reached out to feel the texture of a branch and my fingers went through it; the end of it falling to the ground. Darting forward, I grabbed at sticks and bushes with the same result, and picking up small pebbles made them turn to powder in my hands.

I became conscious of Edward's hand in mine; tense.

"That wasn't supposed to happen?" I guessed, smoothing my fingers together.

I looked down at my shirt and it occurred to me I probably shouldn't touch it in case I disintegrated that too. It was one I liked even if I couldn't recall exactly why.

"You'll learn to control it, your strength."

"No playing Edward's piano until you do though," Esme twittered.

Edward's fingers flying across the keys, weaving beautiful melodies.

"How do you do it?" I demanded. "Touch stuff all the time?"

"Practice."

"How much?"

His smile faded a little. "A while."

"No piano? No CDs? No books?" These notions were horrifying.

"We'll help you," Carlisle said. "It gets easier. And it's all right if you break something."

Edward had undressed me and lifted me down the stairs. Emmett had opened the front door.

"Oof. Maybe I should stay outside."

My family laughed as if I'd said something funny and that made me grin suddenly; it was pleasing.

The wind shifted and I caught a new scent—rosewood and blood. I whipped my head in the direction of it and my mouth opened though I knew it was some distance away. Thirst burned fiercely and my venom flowed.

"What is it?" I managed to ask.

"Elk," Emmett complained. "What a dull first go around."

Dull? That didn't mean much, I was parched. I raced after the scent impatiently. Everyone kept pace but let me lead. My thirst was such that I drained the two largest ones. The remaining scattered but no one followed them. My pained throat was eased only a little so I dashed after the straggler and caught that too.

I turned back to my family, frowning. "Doesn't it go away?"

"You're young," Carlisle explained. "It will lessen in time."

I wanted more. Sprinting through the trees, I breathed in, wanting to find other appealing blood. Edward was next to me and his posture brought up an emotion; running like this was exhilarating.

Laughing, I pushed myself faster, thirst forgotten. Edward fell behind a bit, my legs stronger than his, and I cackled again. I could smell water and silt—diving into the lake with Edward, splashing together in inky water—zipping towards it, I plunged neatly into the water.

I sank the bottom, just for fun. Edward had followed me; he pressed his mouth to mine then picked up a handful of mud and slathered it over my hair. The water was too dense for it to stick but I tackled him anyway, both of us wrestling; Edward playfully holding my hands to stop me getting at him. He grabbed my calf when I went to swim away from him and he lifted me into his arms when he brought us to the bank.

Once I was standing, Emmett shoved me back in, his strength skidding me far. Edward collared him and the two of them crashed into the water as well. Alice splashed Rosalie who immediately whined and soon more mud was flying through the air as they pelted each other. Esme pretended to squeal in fright when Carlisle leapt into the lake with her and I repeated the sound underwater when Edward yanked on my foot, enjoying that he laughed when I did. Edward's laughter was one of my favourite things.

Paddling lazily on the surface, I watched the clouds meander above. Rain would be coming soon; the scent of it was drifting down from the mountains.

"Not too far, my heart. There are people nearby."

"Where?"

"A few miles. In the campground."

"I can't smell them."

"No, but hold your breath if the wind changes."

His words made my body stiffen a little. "Why don't I like that?"

"You're nervous. I won't let you hurt anyone."

"Can't I have them?"

My mind pushed back on the words as I spoke. My thirst was strong even without any blood on the air but the notion of actually finding the humans made me uneasy.

"We're too close to the house. I'll take you to others if you want."

"I didn't like that answer either."

Sinking underwater seemed safest. There were no scents at all here, no temptations. Decaying trees littered the floor. Stretches of shale rose and fell. I dropped to a small sandy bed, watching the sunlight get weaker and weaker. Edward took my face in his hands, calming me. Still in his grip, he walked us backwards, showing me we could.

I trilled excitedly at him and he chuckled, his response making me even more delighted. I couldn't hear the others anymore, the sounds not travelling through the liquid to where Edward and I were. Edward was blowing bubbles to be funny but I didn't have any air so I stuck my tongue out at him instead.

The ground sloped up and we picked our way back to the bank where everyone else was, except for Rosalie and Alice who were bathing in the shallows to clean the mud off their clothes.

Jasper touched my wrist, his frown deepening.

"She's fine," Edward told him. "We'll help her."

"I don't think we can."

"Jasper," Edward complained.

"If I can't calm her and we can't stop her, what then?" he demanded.

"Stop what?" I asked.

"Jasper thinks you'll expose us. Which is ridiculous, she's so calm already."

"You are doing very well, Bella," Carlisle agreed.

"I'm happy," I told them. That emotion was easy to place.

Edward grinned but then made a noise of annoyance. "Jasper wants you to hunt some more."

I would have done anyway, to please him, but now it was all I could think about. Dry, baking thirst—I was desperate for blood to extinguish it.

I lead us into the mountains, hoping to find something more substantial than elk. My curiosity was rewarded; mountain goats and a cougar. I nipped after the goats, enjoying the catch and release before I fed, but Jasper also made me stop my game and get the cougar. It tried to swipe at me, petrified, but I drained it quickly.

The rain found us. Water pattered down, bouncing off branches and leaves. Tiny divots emerged in the earth where the drips struck. Droplets sluiced off my skin, unable to find any purchase.

"I like this," I explained merrily, wanting Edward to tell me why.

His eyes were brilliant. "Because it felt cold to you; you loved the cold."

Edward's tongue was in my ear, his hand on my throat, both of them caressing my skin. He had been wonderfully cold, I remembered, but even with the iciness gone his skin still made currents race up and down my body. We were kissing again, desire fizzing where he touched me.

He pulled back and I pouted.

"Later," he said, grinning. "One thing at a time."

"You always say that," I grumbled.

"We need to wait until you can focus more completely. I can't have you running off in the middle, what would that do to my ego?" he jested.

"I've got to keep you on your toes."

Edward laughed loudly. "You have always done that, my heart."

"It feels strange not having you on my back," he observed once we started to race down the crag after the others. "That's how we always moved out here."

Coiling, I leapt into his arms but miscalculated and we both fell back against an outcrop. Edward's shoulders left a depression in the stone and my hand sank into it as well. Amused, I did it twice more. It was thrilling that I could do this but was unsure why.

"I wanted this very much," I guessed.

There was such a rightness. Even when Edward said I was nervous, that had still been swirling underneath.

"Yes," Edward confirmed. "I think that's why you're doing so well."

"And you wanted it."

Edward had changed me. He'd held me all through my searing pain.

"I did. But it took me some time to realise why you did."

"This is who I'm meant to be."

"I know."

"Are you still thirsty?" Alice called. "There's going to be another cougar over that crest in a few minutes."

That was a hard question. My throat was on fire but thirst wasn't quite there anymore. Carlisle had said I felt this because I was young, meaning the thirst would dim as I grew older. That was comforting.

I smiled. "No."

Edward nicked his palm through the indentations we'd left in the stone until it was nothing but a broad hollow with crumbled pebbles beneath.

"No evidence," he explained.

We strolled back to the house. My family pointed out scents to me as we went, naming them. Some were familiar, most were new. I slowed us often, wanting to learn them all, but no one complained.

Back inside, Esme handed out towels. Edward flung one over my head and scoured me. I was giggling as this action reminded me of the day he told me he was a vampire.

"I keep thinking you're cold," Edward grinned. "Hours in the rain and you're not even shivering."

"I know what will make me shiver," I quipped and Emmett pretended to gag; the noise doubly insulting since it was a human gesture.

I elbowed him in retaliation but then gripped his wrist as I remembered something else. "I can beat you in a fight."

Emmett chortled. "You could do that before too. With your shield."

Esme's hands came over mine. "Not in the house! Take it outside."

"Not yet, Bella," Jasper said, his brow creasing. "You need to learn to control your normal strength first."

I nodded. We were in the living room, within sight of the kitchen table where I'd sat writing and planning … these instructions of his were familiar.

I returned Edward's smile as I remembered the first step of our plan.

For days and days, Edward told me everything, describing every moment of ours.

"I noticed your eyes very early on. They were chocolate brown, beautiful and fathomless. And so old for someone so young."

"You moved around a lot when you were a child, with your mother. You liked it at first but not when you understood what it meant."

He led me all over the house, through the meadow; the woods, lake, and rivers that surrounded our home … we ventured out of our territory again briefly when he took me back to the beach where we'd fallen in love, the little glade where we'd pledged ourselves to each other … all the places that were sacred to us.

In the glade, Edward arranged me in his lap, pulling my legs around him. He'd explained that this conversation took place in Charlie's house but neither of us wanted to go back there, even if it might be empty. "This is how you were when I explained you were my mate. I think about this moment a lot."

"I'd never felt like that before," I said softly. "I used to think I wouldn't ever fall in love. People never seemed to like me enough. But with you, it was effortless. I didn't have to think about loving you, I already did. It was like finding something I'd always had."

Edward lifted my chin, gently levelling his thumb across my lips before he kissed me, just as immeasurable as all the others. Each one was as if we were experiencing it for the first time again, that fizz of excitement and lust and joy all blending together.

He also recited our every conversation, every word.

"'Driver's ed doesn't have a luxury edition'. 'You can't complain about my driving until you've had a go.' 'I hope you're okay with me crashing this. And I'm not parking.'"

"'Want to spin?' 'I can barely stand up as it is.' 'I'll catch you.' 'You'd better.'"

Edward also recited all the conversations I'd had with others that he'd been present for or heard later in their minds.

The rest of my family did this for themselves too, starting with everything they'd said to me from the day I'd met them until the day I'd awoken; describing our joined anecdotes and memories.

I listened, enraptured. Their words filled so much of my memory, like puzzle pieces clicking. Feelings were answered by their stories and vice versa. Nothing in my life was blank because they remembered everything, and Edward remembered every single second of our life together. And so I would soon know everything too.

After this, they all became my instructors; they'd done this many times. There were an abundance of other things I needed to learn and re-learn too.

Every item had different textures and points where tension would cause it to snap—I needed to catalogue each one and remember the movements, my frustration growing when I needed to remember it every movement.

Emmett had made me a chair to practice with—simple pine rather than one of the delicate ones that were about the rest of the house—and had to keep rebuilding it as I broke it. Sometimes I didn't even have to sit in it; the arm crunching when I tried to move it. He'd also made me a short flight of stairs so I could practice for the longer ones in the house. It was soon peppered with my footprints; they helped me to the upper floors when I wanted to move. I also couldn't wear shoes yet—humans did but when I had a pair of my sandals on my feet the soles depressed flat and wouldn't right themselves; the soft texture needing a more careful application than the floors in the house.

They brought me fruit and crackers from the grocery store and I used these to practice how I would touch other breakable things like keys and coins. Apples became rudimentary human skin and it felt … something vaguely strange when I often pulverised them.

Every tiny flex of my fingers had to be accounted for. I'd been excited when I finally picked up one of the biscuits but when I turned my hand to put it in Jasper's, it crumbled. I was annoyed for the next attempt; my fingers leaving dimples in the metal tray they'd arranged everything on for me to practice with.

Jasper levelled the bumps away until it was as relatively smooth as before.

"You didn't even hesitate," I complained, trying to copy his motion and instead jabbing another hole through the metal. I had to hold myself back from punting the whole thing across the room in frustration. None of the others threw things when they got angry.

"I've had lots of practice," he soothed. "You'll get it soon."

Standing in my and Edward's closet was also irritating. Racks and drawers of lovely and familiar clothes and I couldn't touch any of them. Alice had made me some new things; to motivate me, she said. She'd been unperturbed by my sour retort but it caused Jasper to step in between us and Edward to grip my upper arm, pulling me away from her to make me lose my focus.

The others changed their clothes every day so they could go to work or college, but so far Edward and I had only done so after spending time outside. I could never keep my attention like the others could, exploring everything and anything, streaking my clothes with sap and other debris whenever I was in the wilderness; Edward compelled to follow my impulsive meanderings closely to make sure I didn't stray into something I shouldn't. I would've liked to not bother with clothes at the moment but recognised that avoiding it all together wouldn't help me learn. As it was, Edward still had to dress and undress me. I couldn't even do my own laundry.

"I know you're frustrated, my heart," he said, rolling up the sleeves on my clean shirt so I wouldn't rip them accidentally. "It'll get better."

"It doesn't feel like it," I grumbled, resisting the urge to tear the fabric completely from my body.

He'd told me I'd soon be so used to things that the tenses of my body would happen in the back of my mind, nearly automatically, and then I'd feel more content. But Jasper couldn't project what this contentment was supposed to feel like so I had nothing in my repertoire to know whether I was getting closer.

"When you feel it, it'll catch," Edward promised. "It'll work even without Jasper."

They put flyers in my hands so I could practice how to turn pages—colourful confetti littered the floor within moments. This was the most frustrating; there would be no holding books until I mastered this skill. I applied experimental pressures over and over, trying not to tear them. Edward always had his fingers in mine when I began with something new so he could let me feel the level of strength he used, but it was difficult to replicate.

Whenever he saw I was about to lose it, Edward would lead me outside and we would caper about in the woods; my mood quickly soothed. I didn't have to pay attention to how I touched Edward, who often went about shirtless right now so I didn't rip his clothes, and the forest had always brought me comfort.

The sun was rising, real sunshine; bright beams slowly extending down from the canopy to the pine needle-strewn floor.

"I've been trying to decide the best way to show you this," Edward said, his brow creasing. He was only wearing jeans and I had shorts and a t-shirt; a lot of our skin would be exposed.

My memories of Edward and the others in the sun had been dazzling but Edward had warned me that it wouldn't be exactly the same to my new eyes.

"I want to go first," I insisted.

"The sun won't hurt me."

"You'll feel sad about it."

"I won't."

I considered, then nodded. "Can we do it together?"

Edward smiled faintly and took my hands in his. He walked us to a patch of sunbeams, his step never hesitating.

Diamonds winked on our skin, rainbows flickering across. We weren't pale anymore, we were iridescent. Not diamonds but miniature flames, each of the cells igniting mutely, and harmlessly, in the fire of the sun.

My instinct was to be wary of it. Any vampire that might be in the vicinity would be alerted to my presence, my skin acting like a beacon. The only thing that kept me from sprinting for the safety of darkness was knowing that there were no strange vampires around here, and I was in the company of my mate; my family close by.

Edward tucked my hair behind my ear. "I won't let anyone hurt you."

I knew that. "I trust you."

I was so thirsty that I wanted to feed almost every day; sometimes it was all I could think about. One of the others would follow Edward and I when we hunted, whoever was home at the time, making sure there was extra strength to help Edward if I got out of control. They'd herd me to water if I was focused enough or slap their hand over my mouth and nose if the wrong scent travelled on the breeze and I wasn't able to listen.

We were out of the brace of wind. "I'm going to let go now," Edward warned. Slowly, he lifted his fingers one by one off my mouth; he and Alice keeping firm hold of my hands.

I made a noise of disgust when I caught the new scent he'd wanted me to pay attention to instead. Bitter almonds, almost; something not as sweet nor nearly as appetising as the pair of humans.

"I don't want the bear," I complained.

"People will search for them," Alice said, shaking her head.

"How do you know?" I demanded. Alice had told me she couldn't see my future.

"Edward decided to hunt them."

Both scents were forgotten. "What? Don't do that!" Edward didn't want to hunt humans; he hadn't for years.

"It's all right," he soothed. "I did it to see what would happen if you did."

Even as parched as I was, Edward hunting humans with me was unsettling in some way—it had so many emotions tied to it that I couldn't untangle them all just yet. As soon as he'd finished reciting everything, Edward had held out a notebook for me that he'd said had been marked with my human hand. Reading it brought so many more things back but didn't help my cravings. Edward said it was because I'd been human, with human perceptions, and so these cravings were new to me; not having existed when I wrote it.

Carlisle had explained it all. Humans had lives and ambitions and plans, the same as we did. They too felt happy and sad and angry and frustrated. He said they were easy to catch—no different to the mountain lions—and they also feared us the same way the other animals did. He'd told me I had to go to Seattle or Olympia if I wanted to feed after my newborn phase, showing me the distance on a map. To protect our family from exposure, he'd said.

All of that made sense. That was logical. These emotions with Edward deciding it did not. There was something of … betrayal? … but not of me. Edward would be betraying himself—he didn't want to hunt humans; he didn't like it. Not the way I did.

"Don't do that," I told him firmly. "Don't make yourself upset for me."

"I'm not upset."

"Oh." Had I got it wrong?

"Tell me."

"Angry. But not at you. Or myself. I'm angry about you wanting to hunt them and knowing you don't really want to. That you'd be upset if you did. 'None of us want to be murderers.'"

Edward smiled. "Sympathy. You think I'll feel sad so you feel sad."

"Are you sad?" I didn't want that. I'd do anything to make sure that didn't happen.

"No."

More annoyance. "Why do I feel something you don't?"

"Our emotions won't always be the same. You're frustrated at the moment and I'm not," he pointed out.

"I want it to go away."

"It will," he promised. All of them told me this repeatedly but it was hard to believe it. Only their calm demeanour made me hope that control would come soon.

Edward kissed my nose and both he and Alice laughed at how quick my expression changed.