The rest of that week went by in an amazing blur of gazebos, cookies, and damp brown hair. The nights were always the best. It was kind of fucked up how night used to be my least favorite time of day, and now it had completely changed.

I had taken time to set some ground rules with myself regarding this entire arrangement. First and foremost, I could not make Bella uncomfortable in any way. With her strong aversion to men, I knew even the slightest mistake would upset her. The second was that I couldn’t acknowledge Bella at school. This was a given, but it was a rule I had to set regardless. The third was – where I could protect Bella without inadvertently giving this whole thing away and facing the wrath of Alice and tons of other people – I would.

That Tuesday night, I had ushered Bella into the twisted symphony that was my world of music. She would take an ear bud, and so would I. Then I would show her my favorite tunes while staying a very careful distance away from her, as to not be the reason for “Weird Random Emotional Breakdown Number Five”. I started out with the lighter stuff, of course. A little bit of classical before easing her into more heavy genres. She seemed oddly curious about everything I showed her, like she had never fucking ventured into the outside world before. She always surprised me by her reactions to songs. Sometimes I’d play something and hold my breath, waiting for her to grimace in disgust, when instead she would turn one side of her mouth up and bob her head along to the tune playing. My girl had good taste.

Eventually she turned to me with a cautious expression. “Did I see you with Mike today?” she asked in a tone insinuating disapproval. I panicked a bit, not knowing she had seen us together, and as such never coming up with an appropriate cover story.

I grimaced. “I just needed to speak with him about something that happened at the party Friday.” It wasn’t a lie. Technically he did approach Bella at the party, and technically I did speak to him. She looked like she was going to question me further about the Newton situation, so I conveniently changed songs to something hard and loud. Which to my extreme surprise, Bella seemed to almost enjoy. She never brought it up again.

And the next day at school, Newton kept those devious eyes of his trained on the blackboard when Bella entered Bio. I was thankful one day had gone by without me receiving any news of “Weird Random Emotional Breakdown Number Five”. And thankfully, Jazz kept his fucking mouth shut about Bella, instead focusing all his attentions on what Brandon was doing. Good boy.

Wednesday night greeted me with a slightly distraught Bella. It was something I was starting to notice though. She had fallen asleep. I could always tell the way she darted her eyes around the yard with an air of tension around her. Instinctively, though I had been trying to keep things light, I knew she needed to get it off her chest. So I just cut the shit. I put on my best concerned and soft Edward look and hoped it was comforting to her as I took my seat at the bench.

“What was it about?” I asked softly while grabbing a cookie. She looked slightly taken aback at my question, likely not expecting it to be so noticeable. And to others, it probably wasn’t. But she let me see the Real Bella, like I let her see the Real Edward. Reluctantly she began recalling the events of her latest dream. It was much like the last. Exactly like the last as a matter of a fact. But this time she didn’t edit. She went into excruciating detail. Noting the sound of her finger breaking when she tried to resist, and how much blood came from her lip when he punched her. She told me about how she could hear the screams of her mother through the walls in the dark silence of her closet. And then at the mention of her mother, Bella did something that completely fucking stunned me. She cried. Not hard sobs or anything, just trails of tears soundlessly pouring down her pale cheeks. It fucking broke my heart to see her cry. I was itching to comfort her, to do something other than just sitting there on that bench like a statue. But I knew better. The best I could do was listen. So I did.

When she got the remorseful look on her face at ‘burdening’ me with her dreams, I automatically told her about the one I had the day before; I showed her mine. Tit for tat. Blood for Fire. And after we were done spilling the horrors of our dreams, we just sat and listened to more music while eating cookies. Attempting, and succeeding, at regaining our previous, lighter atmosphere. Both silently refusing to let those Goddamn dreams ruin yet another second of our lives that wasn’t completely fucking necessary.

That’s what Thursday night was like too. Just me and my girl sitting around a bag of cookies snickering quietly at stupid band names. She told me a little about her life back in Phoenix, leaving out everything that was directly related to her mother. Then I found out Bella and I shared one more thing in common.

“You were in a group home?” I asked incredulously. I had been in a few group homes before Carlisle adopted me. They fucking sucked.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “I didn’t want to burden Esme and all.” She mumbled and shrugged. It sounded just like Bella to be selfless like that. “But… eventually I had to get out of that place. There were just too many… people.” She mumbled looking down at the iPod intently. I knew when she said ‘people’ she meant men. Boys. Whatever. I felt amazingly sympathetic. She risked all that bullshit and Weird Random Emotional Breakdowns just to spare Esme her presence. She had a look of regret on her face as she put the iPod back on the table with hunching shoulders, likely at the thought of her failing plan to stay put in Phoenix. And because we were tit for tat, I showed her mine.

“I was in a few group homes before Daddy C.-” I pointed over my shoulder at the house with a thumb, and grabbed the iPod up. “-over there adopted me.” I continued distractedly while flipping through the music. “It was all pretty fucked up. People always wanting to test you and shit, like some territorial pissing contest.” I snorted and shrugged remembering all the fights I got into at group homes in Chicago.

Bella had a thoughtful silence before she spoke again. “How did you and Dr. Cullen meet?” she asked quietly.

Ahh. This was a better memory for me, and automatically I smiled. “I was sick in the hospital with the flu. Carlisle was my doctor there, back in Chicago. We were kind of close while I was there. My foster bitch came in one day completely fucking irate because someone stole something from her-” I paused and looked over at Bella shaking my head “Stupid fucking foster home drama. Too many kids crammed into one building tend to do that.” I rolled my eyes and continued. “Anyways, so Daddy C. walks in and sees this crazy woman yelling at me, lying in the hospital bed all sickly and disgusting, and he-” I paused then chuckling and smiling brightly at the memory which I recalled with perfect clarity. “He told her to get the fuck out of his hospital and come back when she found whatever shriveled organ it was she had sitting in for her heart.” I openly laughed now, full and hearty. That was a defining moment of my existence. Lying sick and sweaty on the hospital bed, near death, and the look on my face when I heard cool and composed Daddy C. say ‘fuck’ was probably a Kodak moment. Bella was laughing with me, soft and musical with her head thrown back and her dampened hair swaying in the misty breeze.

Once my laughter died down, I continued shaking my head. “So, when he fixed me up and I was better, he just brought me home with him one night, did all the legal shit, and brought me and Emmet here a month later.” I said with a shrug.

“He seems like a wonderful man to take you in like that. You must love him very much.” Se said softly with a small smile gracing her lips.

“I do love Carlisle in my own way. He tries not to be so fatherly with me mostly… because of my past… but he’s pretty fucking cool.” I said sincerely.

We spent a good portion of the night sharing group home horror stories. I had some pretty good ones. But so did Bella. Some were sad, some were hilarious. I was enjoying the fact we had something else in common.

Eventually the conversation drifted back to school and the awful people who frequented it. At Bella’s mention of Jessica Stanley I reflexively grimaced in disgust.

“What?” she asked with a small amused smile, popping a cookie into her mouth. I put my cookie down, because the sound of that name made me nauseous. I was slightly reluctant at discussing my romantic history with Bella because I was afraid it would make her uncomfortable.

“What? You have to tell me!” She said chuckling, still amused. And because my girl had that kind of power over me, I knew I had to spill my guts about the Stanley bitch.

I shook my head and sighed. “It’s nothing. Just Jessica and I had a sort of…” I paused and furrowed my brow, cocking my head to the side a bit, trying to find the right word for what we had, and failing. “…thing.” I finished lamely. Something momentarily flashed in Bella’s eyes, though I couldn’t quite place it. Immediately she put on the emotionless mask she used at school. I didn’t like that shit. She was supposed to be Bella around me, and now I had said something to fuck that up, and broken rule number one.

“Oh.” She said quietly. “What kind of thing?” She asked still wearing that emotionless mask I fucking hated. Immediately I knew there was no way I was going to tell her about my one night fling with Stanley. Instead I back tracked, not wanting to lie, but knowing I might need to in order to get that goddamn mask off her face.

I snorted casually in a mocking sense. “She’s got crazy stalker tendencies that briefly included yours truly.” There. That was not a lie. I prayed it was enough and I didn’t have to full out create a story. Thankfully, it was. She just shook her head and muttered something about “slutty blondes” which made me laugh. After a few jokes at the expense of Newton, the mask was gone again, and the night salvaged.

We were tired. Immensely so. And when Bella walked into Bio the following Friday afternoon, I knew she had to catch some sleep. Her eyes were completely unfocused, slightly rolling around in her head. I could get an hour or two at home after school every day, but it looked like Bella was just roughing it out. Nervous that she might be heading into dangerous territory, and taking notice of the substitute teacher we had, I decided to break one of my rules. Shredding off a piece of paper from the sketchbook I was drawing in, I wrote her a short note.

I’ll wake you up. It said everything that needed to be said. She would understand what I meant.

I folded it and slid it onto her side of the lab table when I noticed no one was looking, all too occupied with the freedom of Mr. Banner’s absence to notice anything else but their conversations. She opened it slowly, squinting to read the words, before crumpling it up with a heavy nod, and then hesitantly laid her hooded head down on the table.

I took my job very seriously, knowing exactly how much Bella didn’t want to dream. So I listened intently as her breathing immediately slowed into a soft steady rhythm. After a few moments I began hearing the soft almost-snoring sound that my girl always made when she slept. It was the most peaceful, lulling sound. It made me even drowsier than I already was, but I fought to stay alert, hanging on to her every breath… waiting for the dream to begin, and hoping like hell it never would.

But it did. Forty Five minutes later, I heard it. It was a faint difference really; the way her breathing got grainier… grittier, and sped up minutely. I took it as my cue, and lifted my boot from the ground and tapped her on the leg lightly without looking up from my sketch book. Nothing. Harder this time, right on the shin.

She shot up, darting her bloodshot eyes around the classroom. Luckily the room was loud in conversation and no one noticed the disturbance. She rubbed at her eyes furiously and sent me a fleeting grateful look, before she dove into her bag and pulled out a book to read intently.

I had been feeling shitty all day long. I figured I was coming down with a cold of some sort when I sneezed for the hundredth time that day, jamming my hand into my bag to look for tissues. I blew loudly, not really giving a shit that people were turning around to look at me. I just gave them a look that clearly said Fuck. You. All.

Bella glanced at me from under her veil of hair for a moment with a look of concern on her face, but I just kept sketching. Just a cold, no big deal. That’s what happens when you spend 5 hours a night in November outside in the cold misty rain. It was worth it.

When the bell rang, I dragged my tired, feverish, snotty ass out of the class and decided I really did feel shitty enough to go home early. I spotted Jazz in the hall on his way to class and told him to ride home with Rose. He looked like he was about to bitch at me before really taking in my appearance. He let that shit slide. Sick Edward is a fucking pissy Edward.

I went by the hospital first to tell Daddy C. what the deal was, and maybe get some good drugs. Passing all the nurses who knew me by name, I made my way to Carlisle’s office, sniffling and feeling like ass, and deciding maybe I had better stay in tonight. My shoulders hunched in a bit at the thought.

Carlisle took one glance at my red nose and bloodshot eyes and got a knowing look on his face. “You’re sick.” He said with a frown as I plopped into the lush leather chair across from his desk. I just nodded at him and blew my nose, groaning in disgust.

He smiled reassuringly, but proceeded to run a shit load of tests on me, worrying about me getting the flu again. After much poking and prodding and resistance from me, he concluded what I had already known. Common fucking cold. Thanks a lot for the needles Daddy C. He sent me home with some medication and I spent the entire night feeling miserable. Because I was sick, because there was no fucking way I was going to go out in that cold wet shit all night, because for the first night in a week, I wasn’t going to see my girl.

I was alone in the kitchen again on a Saturday night, like I used to do before Edward came along. I kept a careful eye out the window every now and then, making sure he was really staying in again tonight as I stirred the batch of vegetable soup. I knew he was sick. Rose had told Alice after school when she sent a questioning glance to Jasper’s hunched form in Emmet’s Jeep. So I wasn’t surprised when he didn’t show up at the gazebo last night. In fact, I was glad. I didn’t want him getting any more sick because of our nightly sessions.

This last week was divine. Edward came every night with his iPod, showing me a very private side of his world. I adored every part of it. I adored how he liked classical music even though you’d never guess just by talking to him. I adored how much he loved my cookies and always made it a point to tell me so. I adored the way he politely kept his distance from me when we were listening to music without me even having to ask. I adored the way he could tell when I had a dream and needed to talk about it. I adored how he always showed me his so I wouldn’t feel like such a freak.

He had his flaws, of course. I’m not completely blind. Sometimes I got the feeling he was not telling me the complete truth. Carefully editing his answers so as not to lie to me, but keeping things from me at the same time. The Mike thing for instance…I knew there was more to that whole story. I would never pry though. Because he would never do it to me. I wanted to, so badly it nearly choked me, when he told me about Jessica. I got a brief flaring of jealousy for a moment before I could put my mask up. I prayed he couldn’t see it, but was afraid he did when he tip toed around the subject. The thought of him being with that… brainless slut made me want to wretch. It wasn’t fair. That someone like Jessica Stanley could be with Edward, but I was forced to sit four feet away from him every night so I wouldn’t go into hysterics at his touch. I could never pursue something like that with him. In the words of Edward… it pissed me off.

But I bit back the snarky and bitter comment I wanted to make about how he could do so much better, and just let it go. Because even if I didn’t have this crazy aversion, who’s to say he’d even be interested anyway? Where Edward was concerned, I would have to take what I could get. And I’m fairly certain Edward was being more open and honest with me than he ever was with Jessica Stanley. That’s the only thought that kept me sane that night as he poked fun at Mike.

Then at school Friday, he broke his own rule, and slipped me a note in a class full of people. It wasn’t much really. But it made me feel good knowing he was watching me close enough in school to see how exhausted I was. Probably not as much I watched him, but… again… taking what I can get.

But now he was sick, and I couldn’t help but feel slightly responsible. Sure, I didn’t force him outside every night to spend time with me, but for some reason I just felt badly. And as I stalked my way across the darkness of the Cullens’ back yard to the lattice covered wall of his mansion wearing an old book bag on my back full of Caramel Comfort cookies and hot soup, hoodie drawn up stealthily, I told myself that’s why I was doing this. I felt badly… responsible even. It had nothing to do with the fact that I had been shamelessly nursing the raw need to see him for the past thirty two hours. Not that I’m keeping count or anything. To make sure he was okay, at the very least. I mean, sure Carlisle was a doctor, but sometimes you need more than medicine to get better. And Edward’s household sorely lacked that particular type of caring presence.

So I was standing below his balcony staring at his lit windows with nervous anxiety and excitement at seeing him again. I could do this. I can do this. I had seen Edward do it many times before, so I just had to follow his example. Nervously, I stepped my foot up onto the lattice, testing it’s strength against the whole one hundred and five pounds of Bella it was about to acquire, and I began to slowly climb, feeling more and more pathetic with each step that brought me closer to the third floor balcony. Who the hell am I kidding? We left pathetic days ago.

I climbed higher, nearing the balcony and feeling even more nervous as my heart thudded loudly against my chest. I was afraid to look down, so I didn’t, I just kept on climbing. It seemed like it was higher than it looked when I was on the ground.

Finally, I reached his balcony and climbed a little higher to save me some space to climb over. Lifting my leg over the railing as quietly as I could, my foot gently reached the footing of the balcony floor. I let out a deep breath when I shifted all my weight to that foot. Slowly I guided my left leg over the railing, and eventually I was standing on Edward Cullen’s balcony. I spun to face the French doors leading into his room. They were quite heavily curtained, so I couldn’t make out anything inside.

Suddenly I began to panic. Edward’s words rang loud in my head, choosing a frustratingly inconvenient time to come to surface in my memory. Crazy stalker tendencies. I grimaced at myself as I lifted a fist to the glass doors. Cursing myself and my crazy stalker tendencies, I lightly tapped at the glass with my knuckles, and stood back, holding my breath. I took a moment to contemplate how bad it would be if I jumped off this thing. Then I realized the mortification I would feel if the fall didn’t kill me, and I was found injured by Dr. Cullen tomorrow morning as he looked out the kitchen window. Suddenly it felt much darker outside. I could feel the darkness suffocating me as I waited for Edward to answer the door.

Suddenly, one of the glass doors flung open, startling me. I stared with my mouth slightly hung open in shock as I stared unabashedly at Edward in the doorway. His eyes were a mix of confusion and shock, and he looked awful. His perfect straight nose was red and shiny, and he had a blanket wrapped around himself tightly. His hair was even more unkempt than usual, and he was unusually pale.

Standing there on his balcony in the cold wet air, wringing my hands nervously, I realized I had to do something, and quick. He was just staring at me with an unreadable look on his face.

“Bella?” He rasped out. I winced at the sound of his thick, nasally voice. Not really trusting myself to speak, I just swung my bag over to my front and unzipped it quickly, bringing out the large covered bowl of soup that was still steaming hot. I held it out to him with my head down, feeling like a four year old giving their daddy a dirty picture they drew, staring at my wet boots.

After a moment, I felt the bowl being removed from my hand, so I chanced a look up. And I almost collapsed in on myself in relief when Edward turned one side of his mouth into his half smile and quirked an eyebrow up at me. Letting out a baited breath, I decided I should take the opportunity to explain my being here. But looking into the intensely deep green eyes of the person before me, I said the worst possible thing.

“I promise I don’t have crazy stalker tendencies.” I blurted before I could gain enough control to stop myself. Immediately my face grew hot. Oh, you have got to be kidding me…

Edward stood still for a moment before throwing his head back in a raspy laughter. I was debating if that was a good sign or not, so I just stood still, waiting for him to compose himself from his laughter. Hopefully at Jessica Stanley’s expense, and not mine.

Eventually he quieted and looked down at me, eyes filled with quiet mirth and amusement. “Fuck, Bella. That’s the first time I’ve laughed in two days.” He said through a scratchy throat before moving into the room and calling over his shoulder. “Get your ass in here before you get sick too.”’

With a smile so wide I thought my face might break in half, I walked into the warmth of Edward’s bright bedroom, shutting the glass door on the darkness behind me.