Dating Edward Mason Cullen wasn't entirely intentional. There were things in life that just happened, and you went along with it because it felt natural. And for Bella, this was one of those times.
She had met Edward exactly two months ago, at the start of the semester. He had sat at the opposite side of the lecture hall, and she hadn't noticed him at first. But this professor was a truly social creature, and had made everyone stand up to introduce themselves. Bella had groaned inwardly at the attempt at ice breaking, but had gotten up to give her spiel nonetheless.
"I'm Bella. I moved to Washington two years ago from Arizona." She squinted at the powerpoint to read off the remaining list of questions she had to answer. "My favorite ice cream flavor is vanilla. And when I die, I want to be remembered for…" She stared at the question on the screen, then found that she was taking too long. She glanced around the room. "… probably nothing. Not many people are remembered after they're dead."
When she sat back down, she felt entirely stupid and morbid. Her own self-criticism tuned out the introductions of others, but she found herself occasionally paying attention to people who naturally made the room laugh.
But then Edward stood up, and the room once again fell into silence. His hands had been stuck deep into his pockets, and he smiled at the class.
"My name is Edward Cullen," he began, and Bella was instantly hooked at the sound of his voice. "I moved to Washington a few weeks ago. My favorite flavor of ice cream is strawberry." He looked around the room, and Bella could have sworn his eyes landed on her for the briefest of seconds. "When I die, I want to be remembered for my music. I play the piano."
A light round of applause followed his introduction, as customary.
With a heavy syllabus packet in her hand, she had almost made it out the door before Edward Cullen had appeared next to her. "Bella from Arizona," he had said in the form of a hello. "It's nice to meet you."
With him that close, Bella's brain had failed to function for what felt like eternity. Yes, with him up close, Bella's mind blanked on the regular. What she had perceived as natural, unfair beauty, was actually just Edward embodying his vampiric ability. Vampires, she soon came to realize, were supposed to be attractive. It was just the way they lured you in.
"Yes," she had told him. "Bella from Arizona, stuck in gloomy Washington."
"Is the gloom so bad?" They had begun to walk out together. "You seem pretty gloomy yourself."
Bella had found herself tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. Something she would instantly classify as drastically cliche. "Gloomy?"
"You don't think you'll be remembered after you die?"
Ah, she had thought. That. And she had wanted to further dig herself into the ground. "It was silly."
"Perhaps the truth. I'd say realistic."
"And realistic is gloomy nowadays." She had thought for a second. "I don't think I'd even want a funeral. Why waste money on the dead?"
Edward had ducked his head in acknowledgement.
"Edward, right?" She had asked, even though she perfectly well knew his name. "How are you liking Washington?"
And from then on, Bella's life had taken an interesting turn. It wasn't until a few days later that she had realized how Edward tended to pull away slowly. He would engage her in conversation, but then always have some sort of excuse to leave. Their conversations would be pleasant and insightful, yet weirdly short.
Some days, Edward would skip his classes entirely, which never boded well for Bella. She was liking him, but she had already begun to judge him for not taking his education seriously. And there was this douchy quality she decided to ultimately sweep under the rug: sunglasses indoors. She didn't understand why, but she also didn't question it.
By the end of their first week together, Bella had already snagged his phone number. She'd text him that she was in the library, or at the cafeteria. He'd arrive shortly after, and they'd walk to class on the days they had HIST 202 together. She had already been crushing on him, and given the time he had dedicated to her, she figured he had been feeling similarly.
Bella knew she was in trouble when she spent three extra dollars on a higher-end mascara at the drug store. She wanted to impress this man. Edward Cullen had been becoming a daily excitement—a reason for her to want to get out of bed each morning.
The cute little library dates turned into dinners. And during dinners, Bella wouldn't quite notice how little Edward would eat. She would notice, however, that he would always pull her chair out, open her door, and pay for anything that was purchased.
"What are you thinking?" He would ask her as they split garlic bread at a pleasant Italian cafe in Port Angeles.
She would take a bite and smile at him, consistently impressed by his interest in her mind. "I'm thinking about the amount of olive oil these things are soaked in."
Edward would grab a piece, but by the end of the night, it would remain seated on his plate. Ripped into two, but uneaten.
Things between them were normal, for the most part. After a few weeks of their newfound relationship, Edward would show up at her house. The first time, he had brought roses. Pink ones—the kind that said, "I'm into you, but I also want your dad to know." Which was why there were twelve of them. A dozen.
Her father, Charlie Swan, had awkwardly set them up on the kitchen counter as they had their very first dinner together. Bella had noticed her father's eyes slide over to the flowers every now and then, as if to continuously judge the seriousness of their relationship.
After Edward had left that night, and they were washing dishes together, Charlie had said, "He's a good kid. Nice flowers."
Yes, Bella had thought. Good kid. Nice flowers.
But the good kid wasn't actually a kid. And the flowers wilted in a week, which was when Bella began to suspect that something was a little off.
Edward would bail on sunny days. They'd had a picnic scheduled and rescheduled three times at that point, and Bella had begun to question his reliability.
The next time they met—indoors, at the library—Edward had seemed aware of her frustration. For that, he had brought a single red rose. Had Bella been younger, it would have worked. At twenty, she had a little more mind on her than a blubbering teenage girl.
"If you can't commit to our dates, we shouldn't go on them at all," she had told him firmly, though still slightly dazed by his proximity.
Her reaction had visibly surprised Edward, as if he had expected that flowers and gentle words fixed it all—which had admittedly irritated Bella.
After profuse apologies, his desperation had shown through, and Edward planned right then and there that they would have dinner. It hadn't been a question.
"Seven o'clock. We're going to Razzy's."
Bella had sat there, staring up at Edward, her hands sprawled over notes from her classes. "I have class tomorrow morning. Early."
"Tomorrow night?"
Bella had sighed. "How about a nice outdoor lunch tomorrow?"
And Edward had immediately pulled back. "I can't."
Then, Bella had stood, trying to level with him. "You can tell me if you have some sort of aversion to the outdoors. Allergies? Sunburns? What is it?"
"It's nothing," he had said with such fervor, Bella instinctively had taken a step back. And Edward had seemed to realize that he had scared her, even if in slight. And he'd had. Bella had watched the eerie way his golden eyes darkened into a deep yellow. There was something just so odd with the way his face tightened into something animalistic and raw. Bella couldn't explain anything about it, she just knew it wasn't like anything she'd seen before.
Then, he would reel back. The regret on his face had touched something in her. He'd avert his eyes and apologize each chance he'd get for showing his anger. He knew exactly how to tug at her heartstrings. So, Bella had given in that night, and they had gone to Razzy's.
But this time, Bella had paid very close attention to just how little food and drink Edward had actually consumed. Bella didn't understand why, but she tucked in away the detail for later. Edward didn't really eat much at all, though he appeared very well nourished. He was mildly muscular, and Bella knew that it was something that was hard to maintain without a proper diet.
"Did you not like the food?" She had asked that night as Edward laid down his credit card to pay.
"It was good."
"You've maybe taken four or five bites."
Edward had solely focused on signing the receipt and tipping, and taking his sweet time as he did so. "I wasn't too hungry."
But Bella wasn't stupid. They'd spent most of the day together, and she hadn't seen Edward eat once. Come to think of it, did he even own a water bottle? Bella had lugged hers around the entire day.
Edward had stood and grabbed her hand, which had felt colder to her than usual. His skin had felt like ice to her at that moment, and she was burning up.
"Are you okay, Bella?" He had asked her.
No. She wasn't okay. There was something here that she couldn't put words to. Edward had pulled her outside into the cool, crisp evening, but his touch froze her the most.
She had been about to say something. Something embarrassingly accusing like, what are you hiding from me, without any real evidence of anything. But then Edward had leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.
With wide eyes, she had looked up at him. They had been going out together for almost a month, and the kiss was long overdue. A lot of things were long overdue, by Bella's book. She couldn't hide her irritation this time.
Edward had given her a step, but truthfully, she'd wanted to be running by now.
So, she had taken his face in her hands, his skin freshly cold against her heating palms, and pressed a firm kiss to his beautiful lips.
Finally. She had sighed into him. But his lips had been cold, and static. After a few seconds, Bella had the nagging feeling that he hadn't wanted to be kissed after all. So, she immediately pulled away, and Edward had his back to her.
How had he turned around so quickly? She had found herself feeling dizzy.
"Edward—"
"One second, Bella," he had said, but his voice was low. A growl. She hadn't been able to see his face, but dread had bubbled up her chest and into her throat. There was tense air between them, and she rightfully took one small step back.
"Are you—"
But Edward had vanished into thin air right in front of his eyes. He had disappeared. One second he was in front of her, his back to her, and the next, there was nothing but air.
She had remembered the two tears streaming down her cheeks. She hadn't been sad due to the failed kiss. No, she just found that she didn't understand.
That night, Bella had felt a shift in her life.
The world, she soon realized, wasn't what it seemed.
A/N: Bella's maturity is important here.
