It was like his family was able to take their first real breath of fresh air since turning into an undead, unbreathing creature, and it was all thanks to Lettie.

The first week or so was extremely tense, each of them walking in eggshells despite Edward's insistence that seeming loose was the object, that their tense nature was one of the many reasons the humans feared them. It was near comical to watch the normally confident Rosalie interact meekly with the humans, and nearly painful to watch overzealous Emmett fumble his first interactions with minimal limitations, but both had progressed nicely once they got the hang of it. Rosalie and Avery weren't friends, and probably never would be, but Rosalie was aware enough to greet her smile with a small nod, and that seemed to satisfy her locker mate well enough. Emmett still sat with them at lunch, but more than a few people came up to chat quickly, eagerly wondering his opinion on some game or another. It was a relief for both Edward and Jasper, who usually had to feign interest to keep Emmett's spirits up.

Jasper and Alice had played their parts with little to no interference from him. Alice blended in with her tech crew faster than even Edward would have expected. She used the Winter Musical as a good excuse to work through lunch, chatting up a storm with everyone who would let her. For the first time in a long time, it seemed that Alice had found her people, and was grasping on tightly. It was a shock to no one that Alice was the first to be invited to a party, a sleepover that she regrettably had to decline, but it made her so happy just to be invited that she couldn't stop smiling the rest of the day. Jasper, on the other hand, had fully solidified himself in 's good graces. All it seemed to take was Jasper redirecting a group of students from catching their teacher smoking, and the usual grump allowed Jasper to spend his free periods locked away in the classroom, occasionally engaging in quiet conversations. Their complete juxtaposition played perfectly into their family's outward dynamic.

Though he was initially reluctant, Edward's new approach to walking the hallways blasting music was working out beyond his expectations. A few times he was reprimanded by teachers for listening during school hours, but it only added to their normality - what adopted kid went to school with a perfect record? Anyone who dared approach him was conveniently ignored, and his study period became so much more bearable without the disruption of whispering conversations. He missed Lettie's voice; the few times he could hear her talking in class were nothing compared to the old days. And, if her new habit of grabbing some part of him while he wore his headphones was any indicator, she missed him just as much.

But, it wasn't just her touch. Whenever Edward wore his headphones, Lettie seemed to shrink in on herself, a fleeting glimpse of what she looked like every time he left the clearing over the summer. His heart, if it could, thumped loudly in his chest whenever he saw her, reaching out to offer some comfort, which worked on occasion, a small ingenuine smile pulling at her lips. It seemed almost routine now for Edward to curse whatever caused him to not hear her thoughts, and now with the music, completely hide her altogether.

He had an inkling of sorts as to what was bothering her. Sometimes her eyes darted between the board and Edward's open book so frantically it nearly gave him a headache. When she would ask about whatever confused her later, he could hear the frustration of not understanding, especially when whatever was confusing her required Edward to provide more context than the class studied.

Sometimes, it would be the flash of fear in her eyes whenever Edward had to gently remind her of something. Lettie seemed to possess a memory far superior to the average human, but in comparison to a vampire, with their near-perfect recall, she seemed to forget the insignificant things. Edward's gentle reminders were always met with thanks, but the more he did it, the more he saw that look, the momentary vulnerability she usually kept hidden. He tried his best to reassure her, but it was practically second nature to always know the facts, and corrections fell out before he could stop himself. She always forgave him for doing so.

Small things were fine - forgetting the color of the floor of the building they just exited did little to upset her - but, when she tried to recall her own schooling, there were lapses in her memory that sent her mind spinning. She would desperately push through her memories, but it was more akin to someone pushing through a closet of fur coats than picking a brightly colored fish out of a clear lake. In those instances, he could do nothing but sit and reassure her, taking extra time to go through their conversation again. She clung to his every word for a while after that.

Sometimes, it was her physicality. At home, it was easy to pretend that everyone could see her. She easily memorized his family's favorite seats, taking care to position herself as close as possible without being in the way. Edward would catch her watching the family as they went about their business, eyes curious but a content smile on her face. When it was just the two of them, she was able to act as human as possible, hands eager to reach out and touch another person without fear of passing through them. But, when they were at school, there wasn't any place she could go without having someone pass through her. Teachers waved their hands through her head as they walked down the aisles, students stepped through her as they walked between classes, and her seat was often taken out from under her as she sat with the family at lunch. She'd only gotten worse at hiding her flinch the more it happened. It hurt to watch when it was a stranger, but it hurt even more when it was his family, the one group of people he'd always shared everything with. A hundred students could walk through her and it never gained the same response as when Esme tossed a pillow on the chair she was occupying, or Carlisle accidentally passed a book through her as he put it away. Edward's gentle, reassuring touch could only do so much to alleviate her hurt.

And, sometimes, it was simply the overwhelming newness of everything. Cars roar louder, buildings were taller, and the small comforts she took solace in were nearly nonexistent. As accepting as she was, there were things so ingrained into her being that she visibly recoiled before adjusting her thought process to approach with curiosity instead of fear. Just like the other things, there were moments when Edward wanted to coo at her, enjoying the small bit of innocence she carried. The first time she walked in on Emmett and Jasper wrestling shirtless nearly added a stitch to his side from laughter. Her amazement at Esme's food processor was the closest Edward had been able to be near a cat in decades. But the time they stumbled upon a fallen electrical pole, line still crackling, or even listening to a normal conversation between teenage peers, there was little her curiosity could do to combat the inherent fight or flight that she seemed to carry over from her human life, too overwhelmed with the unknown to calm herself.

All of this, all the time, slowly built and built and built, until she completely broke.

"Then carry the 3," Edward said slowly, gesturing with his finger. Lettie simply stared, mind replaying the last few minutes of explanation to wrap her head around the problem. He felt a little guilty, having her in such an advanced math class when she hadn't had to even think about numbers for years, but she was insistent she would be able to keep up at the beginning of the year. The lack of practice, and the multitude of new terms, were finally catching up. "Once you do that-"

"Should these numbers increase in difficulty, I fear it may split my head," Lettie joked lightly, but the implication was clear: break time. Edward's smile was confirmation enough, and Lettie arched gracefully, like a whale breaching the water, and flopped onto her back, leaves crunching under her. Alice predicted it would begin to snow within the next week, which meant their mountain hideaway would be for hanging out only - though they didn't feel the effects of the weather (or, in Lettie's case, chose not to feel), their homework fared better in a drier environment.

"You're doing better." From his seated position, her disagreement was clear to see. "It's true. I wouldn't lie to you."

"You may, if only to spare my delicate sensibilities."

"You are the furthest thing from 'delicate'."

"Did you not promise me a moment ago your tongue would bear no lies?"

"Not about math." She swatted at his leg. "Anyway, I didn't lie."

She wasn't looking at him but rather had her eyes trained to the sky above. Barely beginning to darken, the sunset was fast approaching. Though she preferred sunrise, they always took a break to watch the sky rearrange to its warm-toned descent. Her face would contort forlornly as they did, though her thoughts never revealed why.

It was as if the two were connected, Lettie's sadness and the sunset.

"Your confidence brings me great happiness." She closed her eyes. "I feel as if I may break apart at any moment."

The words were said quietly, whispered to be heard only by the speaker, but they both knew better. That Edward would always hear.

He laid beside her, heads knocking together lightly, an offer of comfort. Lettie's hand reached out across the rocky floor, fingers grazing his sleeve. He moved his arm closer, and she curled her fingers around the fabric, grounding her to the moment.

"My apologies."

"For what?"

"Your kindness has been a great source of comfort, however, despite my greatest attempts, I find my mind clouded with lingering doubt."

"Doubt?"

"The family, your existence as a…vampire, it is beyond my comprehension. Though I am no longer…human, I still maintain my unreliable memory, the kind that allows the loss of simple things, no matter how precious they are to me." She smiled, but the corners were too pinched to be relaxed. "I clung to the memory of my Father, so I would not forget his face, but what of the rest of my time alive? My dearest friend, my teacher, my first love. Their faces are merely smudged versions of what they once were, as if the artist has run their hand over wet paint."

She turned her head to look at him, her small puff of air from eyelashes lingering on his cheek. Her eyebrows were drawn together, irises complimented by the orange leaves she rested her head on.

"I can not fathom ever forgetting you, your kind soul, your name. It would destroy me."

"Lettie…" Edward could do nothing but move his arm, pushing himself further into her hold and grazing his hand against her leg, going for a reassuring sooth as he rubbed his index finger back and forth.

"And I…I have come close to forgetting…" But whatever she was going to say was too horrible to say aloud.

Behind her eyes, the memory of the dark attic overtook her mind. It was almost exactly as he remembered it, though the furniture and clothes looked better, their shape still somewhat presentable, as opposed to the limp heap they found that summer. It was nearly pitch black, the faintest light fighting its way to be seen through the stained glass window. Lettie was hunched over the floor, looking just as perfect as she always did, but there was a deep sorrow on her face, eyes wide with panic. Her hands were trembling as she gripped a needle, the pearl tip indicating it had once been used to fasten a dress. Lettie was exhausted, more tired than he ever recalled being as a human, and even more than he could recall being a vampire, but she didn't stop moving, tip dragging roughly against the wood walls. The lines were minuscule, almost blending in with the grain, but faintly, he could start to see the beginning of her name.

"How desperate you are, Little Lettie." Edward nearly flinched, but Lettie didn't even seem to register the poltergeist, eyes firmly fixed on the wall. Samuel cackled beside her ear, winding around and around her head, delighted smile on their face as they watched her carve. Too weak to maintain contact anymore, the needle slipped between her fingers, passing through her crouched knees and disappearing between the deep grooves of the floor. Lettie let out a sob that sent a shiver down his spine, fumbling to grasp the needle once more before deciding it was hopeless. Instead, she reached out, nails scratching painfully against the wooden walls to continue her work. Samuel's vile smirk widened at her desperation. "Too stubborn to thank me for my kindness, but I guess the price of always remembering me when you recall your name is good enough."

"Edward." His eyes snapped to Lettie's, her real eyes, his mind finally tearing itself away from the cruel memory. Gone was the sadness of the past, and gone was the sadness she displayed only a moment ago. Instead, her eyes were lowered, pinched into a menacing look he had never seen on her before. His fingers, without meaning, had reached for hers, running gently over the fingernails, despite knowing that there would be no evidence of her past. As soon as he registered their skin-to-skin contact, he pulled back, but the damage was already done.

Oh, how he wished he had said something sooner. Without the usual busybodies around them, it was all too easy to focus his energy on listening to Lettie's often obscured thoughts, more than he had to with anyone else. A mistake was bound to happen at some point, he only wished it wasn't his name that revealed the secret he had tried so desperately to hide.

Furious wasn't the word to describe the monologue running through her head. Shock. Embarrassment. Skeptical of her own conclusion. Betrayed. Each new way he identified her thoughts sent a knife into his head. She had to physically distance herself from him, pacing as far away as their little area aloud.

"How could you?"

"Lettie-"

"For how long have you kept this from me? From the moment we met?" When he didn't answer immediately, she spun on her heel to face away from him, digging her hands into her hair. Her thoughts were the loudest he had ever heard, practically drilling into his mind his own betrayal. "My memories are not yours to view at your leisure! Nor are they a spectacle for you to enjoy!"

"You think I enjoyed watching that?" This got her to look at him, even if it was with pure anger. It was better, he reasoned, than never getting to see her eyes again.

"You should never have had a reaction to it at all!" She rocked on her heels, debating to get closer to him, but she decided against it, keeping the distance between them. "Since our first meeting, you have been privy to my intimate thoughts, even those that I never wished to share with another soul. How could you reason that it was not pertinent to inform me of your ability? Would I have remained unaware for the entirety of our friendship?"

"I tried," he reasoned, but it sounded weak, even to him. "There were times when all I wanted to do was tell you, but there was never a good time."

"'Never a'-...have we not been engaging in improper behavior with our constant time alone? I cannot think of a better moment than these past encounters! For whom would I gossip about your abilities? I have no one, Edward. No one but you…" her voice trailed off quietly, before she sighed, her anger cooling to hurt. "And I had placed all of my trust in you. How could…-?"

"It was never supposed to go this far." Edward launched himself up from the ground, crossing the distance in a few short strides, but Lettie raised her hand, gently pressing against his chest to keep him from stepping any closer. He reached out, grasping her wrist gently. The silk was just as soft as it always was, but there was something deeply wrong with this situation, something that he knew was about to change their relationship for good. "I just-you are-..." The words became jumbled in his mouth, truths and lies tangling together until he was too tongue-tied to do anything but stumble.

"Have you ever, for a moment, reflected on your actions? That I may not want your ability to be used on me?"

"I can't hear you, not all the time." He was desperate to have her forgiveness. "At school, it's too loud for me to hear even a stray thought from you."

"But at your home? At our mountain?" His mouth opened and closed, but not a sound escaped. She sighed again, taking another step back, tugging her hand gently from his grasp. He let go with reluctance. "Have I not earned your confidence?"

"A hundred times over," he promised earnestly.

"Why? Why have you kept this from me?"

"It's not easy to just say it aloud. My family has always known, rare friends of Carlisle know, but there has never been anyone else to tell. I don't even know how to go about doing it." He chuckled humorously. "I've thought about just saying it. Say it with no remorse and deal with the consequences as they come. But I didn't want to scare you. Not you."

"And yet, you have." Edward felt unstable on his feet. Lettie was refusing to let his eyes stray from hers, demanding to know whether he'd lie at a time like this, but he wouldn't dare, not when her thoughts revealed how precarious their relationship had become. "I'm frightened of what else you may be hiding."

"Nothing!" He stopped himself from reaching out again. "You know everything else that's mine to tell."

"Even I know that is far from the truth." A single look was enough to silence him.

How had it gone all wrong? Only a handful of minutes ago they were as close as ever, Lettie trusting him so much she was bearing her deepest vulnerabilities to him, even though everything about her thoughts wanted to keep them hidden away until they or she disappeared. This was their space, far away from any disturbances, the one place they were supposed to feel the safest to be themselves, and yet, he broke that very trust simply by being himself.

He felt all the worse as the truth of her words weighed down on him. The countless hours they spent together, and what has he actually revealed? His vampire life is no secret to her, but what does she actually know for certain? She's known of his siblings, and has seen Alice and Jasper use their abilities, but did she know what they were, what they actually could do? She knew of their appetite from blood, but he never allowed her to go with them on a hunt, too self-conscious to show that animal part of himself. She knows nothing of his human life, despite the impact it's had on his new existence, and the countless chances he's had to open up to her.

So, what was holding him back?

When Edward remained silent, Lettie sighed, the last of her anger leaving her body. In an instant, he wished she would yell at him again, if only so she wouldn't have such a sad look on her face.

"I've only ever wanted to know you."

"I believe I need…I need…-" Space. She needed space to think on her own, to hide from Edward and his abilities, to have a moment alone. But, she, as well as he, knew that was impossible in the rarest of instances. The necklace burned hot in his pocket. He was surprised it didn't melt a hole and escape on its own.

"I'm sorry, but I can't allow-"

"Though I may not have the ability to move about at my leisure, I am still a being with needs and desires. I would ask that you do not take that from me as well."

They returned to the house in deafening silence.