AN: As mentioned, here is another chapter :) Thank you all!

Gravity: Sara Bareilles

A soft knock at her bedroom door pulled Bella from the depths of sleep. She barely registered it at first, groggy and disoriented, her brain sluggish as she cracked one eye open.

"Yeah?" she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

The door creaked open just enough for Edward to poke his head in. He looked irritatingly awake—dressed in running gear, hair slightly tousled but otherwise infuriatingly put together.

"It's time for our run," he said simply, like this was a completely normal thing to be saying at—

Bella turned her head, squinting at the clock on the nightstand. 5:00 AM.

"You've got to be kidding me," she muttered into her pillow.

Edward, the absolute menace, didn't even dignify that with a response. He just smirked, pulled the door shut behind him, and left her sitting there, dumbfounded and blinking against the dark.

For a moment, Bella seriously debated flopping back down and pretending she'd imagined the entire thing. But before she could act on that very reasonable plan, Jake let out an excitedhufffrom the foot of the bed, his tail thumping rhythmically against the floor.

Traitor.

With a groan, Bella dragged herself upright, rubbing a hand over her face. She barely remembered falling asleep last night, exhaustion having hit her like a freight train after the weight of the past twenty-four hours. Now, her body protested every movement as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stumbled toward her duffel bag.

She dressed in a haze—leggings, a long-sleeved shirt, running shoes—tying her hair back in a messy ponytail that she didn't bother to check in the mirror. There was no point. She probably looked like death warmed over.

By the time she made it downstairs, still rubbing sleep from her eyes, Edward was already by the door, waiting. He had one hand on Jake's leash, the other resting casually against the doorframe, watching her with a knowing expression.

Bella let out a slow exhale, crossing her arms as she blinked blearily at him. "We didn't talk about this."

Edward tilted his head slightly, looking completely unbothered. "Didn't we?"

She narrowed her eyes. "No."

"Huh." He didn't sound remotely apologetic.

Bella groaned, shaking her head as she crouched down to lace up her shoes. "You can't just wake people up at five in the morning and expect them to function."

Edward smirked. "You're standing, talking, and getting your shoes on. Seems like you're functioning just fine."

She shot him a glare as she finished tying her laces. "I hate you."

"No, you don't. Besides, you would do this every morning."

"Sure, but my life was a lot duller back then."

Bella sighed, rolling her shoulders as she stood. She was still half-asleep, but the biting morning air filtering through the door was already waking her up. "Are we actually running," she began, glancing at him skeptically, "or am I about to get thrown into some crazy training regimen?"

Edward opened the door, stepping aside to let her go first. "Guess you'll find out."

She squinted at him, deeply untrusting. "I really hate you."

This time, Edward grinned. "You're getting closer."

The forest trail stretched ahead of them, bathed in the muted gray light of dawn. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine. They ran in easy silence, the rhythmic pound of their feet against the dirt blending with the rustling leaves and the steady breaths they exhaled into the cool morning air.

Jake trotted a few paces ahead, tongue lolling out as he kept pace. Bella stuck close to Edward, but she could tell—without a doubt—that he was holding back. His breathing was barely affected, his strides smooth and unhurried. He wasn't running. He was humoring her.

Bella shot him a sideways glance, her competitive streak bristling. "You don't have to slow down for me."

Edward smirked but didn't look over. "Oh, I know."

Bella narrowed her eyes. "Then go ahead. Run like you mean it."

That got his attention. Edward cast her a look, one eyebrow arched. "You sure?" His voice was laced with amusement, as if he already knew how this was going to end.

Bella huffed, already regretting this but too stubborn to back down. "Yeah. Show me what you've got."

His lips twitched into something smug before he murmured, "Don't say I didn't warn you."

And then he was gone.

It wasn't just speed—it was effortless. One second, he was beside her, and the next, he was pulling ahead, his long strides eating up the trail with ridiculous ease. Jake, delighted by the challenge, took off after him.

Bella clenched her jaw and pushed harder, ignoring the burn in her legs as she tried to keep up. But Edward was fast—unfairly fast.

"Goddamn show off," she muttered under her breath, forcing her body forward.

She leaned into the run, willing herself to move faster, to close the gap. But as she rounded a sharp bend, she misjudged her footing—her sneaker caught an uneven patch of dirt, and before she could correct herself, she was stumbling forward.

Shit—

Before she could hit the ground, she collided with something solid.

Edward.

Apparently, he had stopped abruptly—probably to smirk at her suffering—but now, with Bella barreling into him at full force, there was no stopping the inevitable.

They crashed to the ground in a tangle of limbs and startled expletives, hitting the dirt with a hard oof. Bella landed sprawled across him, her hands splayed against his chest to brace herself.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

Bella's breath caught as she registered the position they were in. Her legs were straddling his waist, her palms pressed to the warmth of his body, his firm grip steadying her at her waist. The world around them seemed to blur, the only sound her pounding heartbeat and the faint rustle of leaves.

She hesitantly lifted her gaze and found Edward already staring at her, his eyes just as shocked as hers. His lips were slightly parted, chest rising and falling beneath her hands.

"Well," he murmured after a beat, voice rich with amusement. "If you wanted me on my back, you could've just asked."

Bella's stomach flipped. Heat bloomed in her face, spreading down her neck like wildfire. "Oh my God," she muttered, burying her face in her hands.

Edward chuckled beneath her, the sound low and warm. "I mean, I get it. I'm irresistible, but damn, Bella. Knocking a man to the ground just to get on top of him? Bold move."

She groaned. "Shut up."

"I'm just saying," he continued, feigning deep contemplation. "Most people start with dinner. Maybe a drink. Not attempted manslaughter."

Bella scowled, finally daring to look at him again. "You're enjoying this way too much."

Edward grinned, his fingers tightening subtly at her waist, his thumbs grazing against the fabric of her shirt. "Maybe," he admitted, his voice softer now, teasing but undeniably laced with something else.

Bella's pulse kicked up a notch. The warmth of him beneath her, the way his eyes flicked down to her lips for just a second—it sent a rush through her so sharp, she almost forgot to breathe.

"Bella…" His voice was quieter now, lower.

She swallowed hard. She wasn't sure what she was doing—only that she didn't want to move away. She hesitated, just for a second, then leaned down, brushing her lips lightly against his.

It was brief—barely more than a touch, but it sent something electric crackling between them, something undeniable.

For the first time since meeting him, Edward seemed speechless. His fingers flexed slightly against her waist, his breath hitching just enough for her to notice.

Bella pulled back an inch, eyes searching his. "Still feel like cracking jokes?" she whispered, her own breath a little unsteady.

Edward blinked once, then exhaled a small, breathless laugh. "Not… at this exact moment, no."

And then, without thinking—without overanalyzing—she kissed him again.

This time harder.

A small, helpless sound escaped the back of her throat, and Edward's hands flexed against her hips, fingers pressing into her skin through the thin fabric of her shirt. He didn't hesitate—didn't pull away. Instead, he met her halfway, his lips warm and insistent, the tension between them finally snapping like a stretched wire.

Bella's fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him as she tilted her head, deepening the kiss. Edward's hands skimmed up her sides, slow and steady, his touch restrained. Every movement felt purposeful, like he was memorizing her, testing the limits of what she'd let him take.

She gasped when he shifted beneath her, the sudden friction sparking something hotter, something that had been simmering beneath the surface for days now.

Her pulse thundered.

She was kissing Edward.

And he was kissing her back.

The realization hit her like a truck, but instead of making her stop, it only made her want more.

Edward kissed like he did everything else—with precision, with control, with a type of intensity that made her mind blank—but Bella felt the way he exhaled shakily against her mouth, the way his fingers dug in just a little tighter, as if he was barely holding himself back.

God, she wanted to wreck that control.

But just as she shifted again, her hands sliding up to his jaw, Edward tensed beneath her.

And then he was pulling away.

Not harshly. Not like he regretted it. But like he had to—like something in him demanded it.

Bella blinked, her chest rising and falling as she tried to process what just happened. Edward's hands lingered at her waist for a moment before he let go completely, exhaling sharply as he stared up at the sky for half a second, as if recalibrating himself.

And just like that, the moment was gone.

Her heart dropped into her stomach.

Edward sat up slowly, rubbing a hand over his face before looking at her, his expression unreadable. The shift from what they were just doing to the quiet, neutral mask he now wore was so jarring that Bella felt a rush of something close to panic.

Had she misread this?

Had she done something wrong?

Edward's voice came quiet, rough. "We should get back."

That was it. No teasing remark, no smirk, no indication that what just happened had affected him in the same earth-shattering way it had her.

Bella swallowed, nodding even though her throat felt tight. "Right. Yeah."

But she didn't move.

Neither did he.

The space between them felt thick, suffocating, and Bella's skin still burned with the phantom imprint of his hands. She searched his face, looking for something—anything—to tell her what he was thinking, but he was back to being an enigma.

And that scared her.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she slid off of him, the loss of contact sending an ache through her chest she wasn't ready to acknowledge. Edward stood, and for a split second, Bella thought maybe he'd say something—give her some indication that she hadn't just completely miscalculated this whole thing.

But he didn't.

Instead, he simply extended a hand.

She hesitated only for a second before taking it. His grip was firm, steady, but he let go as soon as she was on her feet.

Her stomach twisted.

Neither of them spoke as they started back toward the house, but the silence between them was no longer comfortable. It was heavy. Stifling.

Bella bit the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to stare straight ahead as they walked, her mind racing.

Had she ruined something? Had he just been caught up in the moment, only to realize it was a mistake?

She wasn't sure what terrified her more—the idea that he regretted it or the idea that he didn't but was determined to pretend it never happened.

Either way, the weight of it settled deep in her chest, an unwelcome pressure she couldn't shake.

Jake trotted ahead of them, blissfully unaware of the tension thick enough to choke on. Bella envied him.

She snuck a glance at Edward, but his expression was blank, his gaze fixed ahead like nothing had just happened between them. Like he hadn't just had her pressed against him, kissing her like she was something he wanted.

Her throat tightened.

The silence stretched.

And Bella had never hated it more.

When they reached the house, Bella hesitated just outside the door, her breath still uneven, her mind a tangled mess. Edward reached for the handle and pushed it open for her without a word, his movements as smooth and controlled as always.

She stepped inside first, mumbling a quiet, "Thanks," barely trusting her own voice. The second she crossed the threshold, she veered toward the kitchen, her hands still trembling. She needed something to do, anything to ground herself, so she went for the glassware, pouring herself a cup of water she didn't actually want.

Edward followed her in, but he didn't speak. He just leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching her. His gaze was steady, unreadable, and the silence that settled between them was unbearable.

Bella took a slow sip of water, hoping it would somehow settle the storm inside her, but it did nothing. Her lips still tingled from the kiss, her body still remembered the press of his hands. And worst of all, her mind couldn't decide if she was more overwhelmed by how good it had felt—or by the way he had pulled away like it hadn't happened at all.

She set the glass down carefully, exhaling through her nose before finally forcing herself to meet his gaze. "Are you okay?" Edward asked, his voice low.

The question almost made her laugh. Was she okay?

Her body was still thrumming from the kiss, her heart was tangled in a mess of confusion, and in a few hours, she would be risking her life in a mission she wasn't even sure she was ready for.

So, no.

She wasn't okay.

But she couldn't bring herself to say that.

Instead, she nodded slowly. "Yeah. I'm just…" She swallowed, pressing her palms flat against the counter to steady herself. "Processing."

Edward's expression softened, just slightly. "Me too."

His voice was quiet, but there was something in it—something that made Bella's chest tighten. Was he processing because the kiss had meant something to him too? Or was he figuring out how to politely pretend it never happened?

The uncertainty gnawed at her, but she wasn't about to ask.

They stood there, neither of them moving, the quiet between them shifting from tense to something more contemplative. Edward's brows furrowed, like he wanted to say something else, but instead, he pushed off the counter and nodded toward the hallway. "We should get ready," he said, his voice back to its usual even tone. "Alice is going to want a full update when she's up, and we need to make sure everything is good for tonight."

Reality crashed back over her like a wave. Right.

The mission.

The whole reason they were even here.

The kiss, the tension, all of it—it didn't matter.

She forced a nod. "Yeah. Okay."

Edward hesitated, his eyes lingering on her for just a second too long, like he wanted to say something else. But then he just gave a small nod and turned, disappearing down the hall.

Bella let out a breath, gripping the edge of the counter like it might somehow keep her upright.