We sat in silence for a while after that, Edward kept his head down. And I played with my fingers under the table.
This was my fault, I was the reason he was suffering.
"I'm sorry," I apologized softly.
He dismissed me with a sharp, "Stop saying that."
I pressed, insisting, "But it's my fault."
"It's not," he argued. "You're a victim of especially poor luck, nothing more."
"I could have stayed with them, I should have," I objected.
"Bela," He whispered my name almost too low for me to hear.
There was no argument, he was right. So why? Why did I feel so guilty?
If I can't apologize what else can I do?
"Then…thank you." I said in a small voice, looking up at him. "That's twice now."
He looked up at me and smiled slightly, "Let's hope this is the last time."
I nodded slowly. He placed his hands under the table and leaned toward me
"Bela, I followed you to Port Angeles," he admitted, speaking in a rush. "I've never tried to keep a specific person alive before, and it's much more troublesome than I would have thought. But I've never dealt with someone with a death wish before." He paused waiting for a reaction.
Yelling at him would have been rational.
Moving away from him would have been rational.
But I did neither, instead a small smile crept across my face, warmth rising to my cheeks and my body stiffen if only slightly.
It's scary, genuinely terrifying to think about how happy that made me. How fuzzy and warm I felt at the idea of him stalking me.
He just watched me.
First, his eyes were remorseful, embarrassed, ashamed. But it quickly faded into confused disappointment.
He clearly thought better of me and I looked away ashamed to admit he was wrong.
And I couldn't understand why, why was I calm? Why did I move closer to him?
Why was the confusion and fear overwhelmed by the joy, the Pure happiness of knowing that he wanted me? That he cared enough to follow me.
I was an idiot, completely irrational, helpless.
Softly under my breath, I said, "Maybe you should just let me die. It feels like my number was up with the van, and now we're just fighting fate."
"Not with the van," he whispered, his lips barely parting, his head down like he was praying. "From the moment I saw you…" His voice trailed off, tightened like he was about to cry.
My mind shifted back to the day we met, the fear that made me skip class. The violent animalistic glare in his eyes.
I thought that he was going to attack me.
I knew he wanted to kill me.
And I was right.
I scratched at the table, my legs twisting and turning uncomfortably. They wanted to run.
Too bad my mind didn't want to listen.
"You remember." His voice was fragile, almost inaudible. This wasn't a question.
"Yes." I also looked down.
"You truly have a death wish." He laughed, a sharp dry laugh, clearly he couldn't believe it.
"Maybe," I answered honestly, "I never really thought much about my life… It's scary how little I thought about it."
You're born, you make choices, you live with those choices and you die. I was aware of that, I'd always been aware of that.
So why did I never think of my life, why was I unconsciously moving around the world like a ghost?
And why did this consciousness suddenly surface?
"That's what's scary?" He laughed gently.
"I thought I knew myself better than this, the choices I would and wouldn't make…" My voice trailed off and I laughed, "but look at me talking to my stalker."
He winced as I said it out loud and I asked, "How did you even find me today?"
He took a deep breath sitting up, his face was calm, almost empty like a switch was flipped. He stared at me through narrowed eyes.
"You eat, I'll talk," he bargained. "We'll be here all night if you don't."
I stared down at the food, I wasn't hungry… but he wanted me to eat.
If that's what he wanted, I quickly scooped up another ravioli and popped it in my mouth.
"It's usually easier… to keep track of people. It's very easy after I've heard their thoughts once." He kept his eyes focused on his hands as he talked anxiously playing with his fingers.
"But you can't hear mine…" I muttered under my breath. He looked at me, than the still full plate. I made myself swallow, then stabbed another ravioli.
"That's why I was using Jesse, he's simple, easy to track from a distance." He said with a small smile that slowly faded into a far away look.
"I went to the store Alex pointed out to you," he let out a dry nervous laugh, "But of course you decided to randomly roam the streets."
He rolled his thumbs over each other, "I ended up driving in circles still listening for you. The longer you were missing the more I…" His voice trailed off, "by the time it got dark I was already on foot That's when-" he stopped, not just his voice but everything. I am sure he wasn't even breathing.
"When?" I whispered. He looked at me but seemed to stare right past me.
He clenched his teeth together and let out a low growl, "I heard what they were thinking."
He paused his lips curling slightly back like a animal baring its teeth, "I saw your face in his mind."
He suddenly leaned forward, one elbow appearing on the table, his hand covering his eyes. The movement was so swift it startled me.
"It was very... hard - you can't imagine how hard - for me to simply take you away, and leave them... alive."
His voice was muffled by his arm and his leg bounced nervously below him, so fast it shook the table slightly. "I wanted to leave you with Jesse and Alex, I told myself that was what I should have done, but if I was alone… if I didn't have you with me.." He admitted in a whisper.
He stopped bouncing and hissed weakly, "They weren't even going to let you die in peace…"
We sat in silence after that, his face still in his hand as still as stone, not even breathing.
Me staring up at the ceiling, trying to make sense of my thoughts. The incoherent urges in my body, the dizzy queasy feeling in my stomach.
For a moment, I thought shock had finally come. Maybe I was dead, and this was all some elaborate fantasy my mind created as I bled out in the street.
I took a deep breath and sat back up, he was staring at me like he was scared I would disappear, "Are you ready to go home?" he asked.
"Yeah," I replied with a nod.
We had a hour-long ride home, a ride where I was supposed to tell him my theories. Though he wasn't even attempting to hide anymore, it had to be said out loud. He had to know that I knew.
The waitress appeared as if she'd been called. Or watching.
"Is everything okay?" She was looking at me now.
Edward answered, "We're ready for the check, thank you." His voice was quiet, rougher, almost scary.
She didn't say anything, almost like she was frozen until he looked up at her, cold and empty.
"S-sure," she stuttered. "Here you go." She turned to face him, pulling a small leather folder from the front pocket of her black apron and handed it to him.
There was a bill in his hand already. He slipped it into the folder and handed it right back to her.
"No change." He stood up in one fluid motion, and I scrambled awkwardly to my feet.
She backed up slightly and looked away her face red. "You have a nice evening."
"You as well," he said softly.
He then turned to me, "We should go."
Walking quickly to the door, I followed closely behind him.
He held the door open for me again.
While outside, he stood close, guiding me to the car with his hand on my arm. I'm sure if the streets were empty he would have just thrown me over his shoulder.
I just kept my head down. I looked at the sidewalk, grateful that he couldn't read my mind.
He opened the passenger door, holding it for me as I stepped in, shutting it softly behind me. Then by the time I turned he was at his door already opening and getting in. I probably should have been used to it, how fast he could be, but I wasn't. I had a feeling Edward wasn't the kind of person anyone got used to.
Once inside the car, he started the engine and turned the heater on high. It had gotten very cold, and I guessed the good weather was at an end. I was warm in his jacket, though, breathing in the scent of it when I thought he couldn't see.
Edward pulled out through the traffic, apparently without a glance, flipping around to head towards the freeway.
"Now," he said, putting emphasis on his words "it's your turn."