The next morning, Bella woke to the sound of her alarm with the disorienting sensation of having lived through the most vivid dream of her life. She lay still for a moment, staring at the familiar water stain on her ceiling, trying to separate reality from the impossible memories that felt both crystal clear and utterly surreal.
Had she really spent last evening having dinner with Edward Cullen? Had he really confessed to being a vampire who'd been seventeen years old for nearly ninety years? Had she really sat in his car and calmly discussed superhuman senses and animal hunting like they were talking about weekend plans?
The rational part of her mind insisted it had to have been a dream. Vampires didn't exist outside of novels and movies. Teenage boys didn't casually mention being over a century old. People didn't sparkle in sunlight unless they'd been attacked by a particularly enthusiastic craft store.
But then she caught sight of her clothes from the previous evening, draped over her desk chair exactly where she'd left them after her shower. Her jeans still smelled faintly of the restaurant, and her sweater carried the lingering scent of expensive leather and something indefinably masculine that made her heart skip a beat.
Edward's scent. Which meant it had all been real.
Bella sat up in bed, running her hands through her sleep-tangled hair as the full weight of the previous evening settled over her. Edward Cullen was a vampire. A real, actual vampire who could read minds and move faster than human eyes could follow and apparently hunted bears for breakfast. He'd told her he was dangerous, had warned her away from himself, had confessed that being near her was like torture because he wanted to drink her blood.
And she'd told him it didn't matter. That she wasn't afraid of him. That her only concern was making him happy.
"Oh God," she muttered, burying her face in her hands. "I'm in love with a vampire. This is my life now."
The absurdity of it would have been funny if it weren't so overwhelming. Three weeks ago, the most complicated thing in her life had been whether to eat lunch alone or attempt to navigate the social dynamics of the cafeteria. Now she was apparently dating someone who'd been alive during World War I and could probably bench press a truck without breaking a sweat.
The shrill beeping of her alarm clock jerked her out of her spiraling thoughts, and a glance at the digital display made her stomach drop. 7:15 AM. She'd been so lost in processing the previous evening that she'd let her alarm run for fifteen minutes without getting up.
"Shit, shit, shit," she muttered, throwing off her covers and stumbling toward her closet. She was going to be late for school, which meant rushing through her morning routine, which meant she'd probably trip down the stairs or spill coffee on herself or do something equally mortifying in front of Edward when she saw him in biology.
If he even wanted to see her.
The thought stopped her cold, one leg halfway into her jeans. What if Edward had spent the night regretting everything he'd told her? What if he'd realized that trusting a human with his family's secrets was the worst possible decision he could have made? What if he'd decided that the safest course of action was to go back to avoiding her, pretending she didn't exist, maintaining that careful distance he'd tried so hard to establish in the beginning?
Bella forced herself to finish getting dressed, pulling on a navy blue sweater and running a brush through her hair with more force than was strictly necessary. She was being ridiculous. Edward had looked at her last night like she was something precious, had smiled when she'd said he wasn't getting rid of her easily. He wouldn't just disappear on her. He wasn't that kind of person.
Was he?
By the time she made it downstairs, Charlie had already left for work, leaving behind only a hastily scrawled note about leftover cereal and a reminder to drive carefully in the fog. Bella grabbed a granola bar and her backpack, cursing herself for oversleeping as she headed for the front door.
The morning was thick with the kind of heavy Pacific Northwest fog that reduced visibility to maybe twenty feet and made everything look like it belonged in a Gothic novel. Bella was halfway to her truck, keys in hand and mentally calculating how fast she'd have to drive to make it to school on time, when she realized there was another vehicle in her driveway.
A familiar silver Volvo, its engine running quietly, exhaust visible in the cold morning air.
Bella stopped so abruptly she nearly dropped her keys, staring at the car like it was a mirage that might disappear if she looked at it too directly. Through the fog-dampened windshield, she could make out Edward's distinctive silhouette—the elegant line of his neck, the way his bronze hair caught what little light filtered through the gray morning. Even from this distance, she could see him watching her with what looked like careful attention.
He'd come to pick her up. After everything that had happened last night, after all the warnings and confessions and impossible revelations, Edward Cullen was sitting in her driveway at 7:30 in the morning, waiting to drive her to school.
Relief flooded through her so suddenly it made her knees weak. He hadn't changed his mind. He hadn't decided she was too much trouble or too dangerous to be around. He was here, solid and real and impossibly beautiful in the gray morning light.
Edward climbed out of the car as she approached, moving with that fluid grace that was even more noticeable now that she knew what he was. He was wearing dark jeans and a charcoal gray sweater that made his bronze hair look like burnished copper, and his golden eyes were lighter than they'd been the night before—proof that his hunting trip with his brothers had been successful.
He looked, Bella thought with a flutter in her chest, like a Renaissance sculpture that had decided to take up modeling for expensive cologne advertisements. All sharp cheekbones and elegant lines, with an otherworldly beauty that should have looked out of place in small-town Washington but somehow made everything around him seem dull by comparison.
"Good morning," he said softly, his voice carrying easily through the fog-muffled quiet of the morning. "You look like you were about to be late."
"I was," Bella admitted, clutching her backpack strap with suddenly nervous fingers. "I overslept. Too much thinking last night, I guess."
Edward's expression shifted, something that might have been anxiety flickering across his perfect features like clouds passing over sunlight. His head tilted slightly—a movement so subtle it was almost imperceptible, but somehow achingly graceful. "Regrets?"
"No," Bella said quickly, the word coming out more forceful than she'd intended. "No regrets. Just... processing. It's a lot to take in, you know? The whole vampire thing."
The tension in Edward's shoulders—shoulders that looked like they'd been carved from marble by someone with very strong opinions about aesthetics—seemed to ease slightly, though his golden eyes remained fixed on her face with careful intensity.
"I know," he said quietly, his voice carrying that precise enunciation that spoke of careful breeding and probably several decades of practice. "I was worried you might wake up this morning and decide you'd made a terrible mistake."
"The only mistake I made was not setting three alarms," Bella said, finally allowing herself to smile. "I hate being late. It's like my one phobia, besides public speaking and those really deep puddles where you can't tell how deep they actually are."
Edward's answering smile was so bright it seemed to push back the fog surrounding them, transforming his face from ethereal sculpture to something warmer, more human. The expression made him look younger somehow—less like an ancient creature masquerading as a teenager and more like someone who might actually be seventeen.
"Deep puddles," he repeated, his mouth quirking with what looked like genuine amusement. "That's oddly specific."
"You never know what's down there," Bella said seriously. "Could be three inches, could be three feet. Could be a portal to another dimension. You just don't know."
"Ah yes, the notorious puddle portals of Forks, Washington," Edward said solemnly, though his eyes were dancing with mischief. "Very dangerous. I should have warned you about those along with everything else."
"See? This is why I need a supernatural boyfriend. Someone to warn me about the really important stuff." The words slipped out before Bella could stop them, and she felt heat rise in her cheeks. "I mean—"
"Boyfriend?" Edward asked, and there was something almost wondering in his voice, like she'd offered him something he'd never dared to hope for.
Bella bit her lip, looking down at her sneakers. "Well. I mean. Unless you prefer 'centuries-old bloodsucking creature of the night I have inappropriate feelings for.' But that's kind of a mouthful for casual conversation."
Edward's laugh was soft and surprised, like she'd caught him completely off guard. "Boyfriend is considerably more concise," he agreed, moving to open the passenger door for her with that impossible fluid grace. "Though I should point out that technically, I'm your centuries-old bloodsucking creature of the night boyfriend. For accuracy."
"I'll make a note," Bella said, settling into the passenger seat and immediately being surrounded by the scent of expensive leather and something indefinably Edward. The car was warm despite the cold morning, and she realized he must have been sitting here for a while, waiting for her to emerge from the house. "God, how long were you out here? I hope my neighbors didn't see you and call the cops about some suspicious character lurking in driveways."
"Only about ten minutes," Edward said, climbing into the driver's seat with movements that looked like they belonged in a ballet rather than a high school parking lot. "And I wasn't lurking. I was... strategically positioned."
"Strategically positioned," Bella repeated, grinning at him. "Is that what we're calling it?"
"I prefer it to stalking," Edward said mildly, reaching into the back seat to retrieve a charcoal gray wool coat that looked like it cost more than her father's monthly mortgage payment. "Though Alice insists there's very little difference between the two."
"Alice has opinions about your dating methodology?"
"Alice has opinions about everything," Edward replied, offering her the coat. "Here. The heater takes a few minutes to warm up properly, and you look cold."
Bella accepted the coat, her fingers brushing against his as she took it. His skin was just as cool as she remembered, marble-smooth and impossibly perfect. She pulled the coat around her shoulders, and immediately the scent of it—clean and masculine and distinctly Edward—seemed to wrap around her like a warm embrace.
"Better?" Edward asked, putting the car in reverse and backing out of her driveway with the kind of smooth precision that spoke of decades of practice.
"Much," Bella said, settling deeper into the coat. It was too big for her, the sleeves falling past her fingertips, but somehow that made it even more comforting. Like being wrapped in a piece of Edward himself. "Thank you. Though I have to ask—do you just keep spare designer coats in your car for emergencies? Because this feels very planned."
"I may have anticipated that you might be cold," Edward admitted, his mouth quirking in that small smile that was becoming her favorite expression. "And I may have wanted an excuse to see you wearing my clothes."
"Edward Cullen," Bella said, turning in her seat to stare at him with mock scandalization. "Are you being possessive?"
"Vampires," Edward said delicately, "are naturally territorial creatures."
"Territorial about what, exactly?"
"Everything that matters to us," Edward replied, his voice growing softer. "Which, in your case, means everything about you."
The casual way he said it—like her entire existence was something precious he wanted to claim and protect—made something flutter in her chest. Bella found herself studying his profile as he navigated the familiar streets toward school, noting details she'd been too overwhelmed to process the night before. The sharp line of his jaw, the way his bronze hair fell across his forehead in artfully disheveled waves, the careful control he maintained even while doing something as mundane as driving to school.
He looked like he belonged in a music video, she decided. Something atmospheric and expensive, with lots of dramatic lighting and close-ups of his hands on piano keys. The kind of thing that would make teenage girls across America develop impossible crushes and start writing bad poetry.
"What are you thinking about?" Edward asked suddenly, glancing at her with curious golden eyes.
"That you look like you should be on the cover of Rolling Stone," Bella said honestly. "Or in one of those black and white Calvin Klein ads that don't actually advertise anything except how beautiful the model is."
Edward blinked, looking genuinely surprised. "I look like what?"
"You know what I mean. All cheekbones and artistic lighting." Bella gestured vaguely at his face. "Like you're about to brood attractively while playing a piano in a thunderstorm or something equally dramatic."
"I do play piano," Edward said slowly.
"Of course you do. What else? Do you write poetry? Paint watercolors? Compose symphonies in your spare time?"
"I compose music, yes. No poetry, though I do read quite a bit of it. And I've never tried watercolors." Edward's expression was growing more amused by the second. "Are you creating a mental catalog of my potential pretentious artistic pursuits?"
"Maybe. I'm trying to figure out if you're the type to quote Sylvia Plath at inappropriate moments or if you're more of a mysterious brooding type who communicates primarily through meaningful glances."
"I prefer Byron, actually," Edward said with perfectly straight face. "Though I have been known to brood."
"Byron. Of course." Bella shook her head, grinning. "Lord Byron, the original bad boy of romantic poetry. I should have known."
"You're familiar with Byron?"
"I read. Shocking, I know." Bella settled back in her seat, pulling Edward's coat more tightly around her shoulders. "Let me guess—you probably knew him personally. Had lengthy discussions about literature and the nature of existence while wearing elaborate cravats."
"I was born in 1901," Edward pointed out mildly. "Byron died in 1824. Though I appreciate your confidence in my age."
"Details," Bella waved a hand dismissively. "I'm sure you would have gotten along famously. Both beautiful, both dramatic, both probably way too intense for your own good."
"You think I'm intense?"
"Edward, you just told me that vampires are territorial about everything that matters to them, and then you claimed that everything about me falls into that category. If that's not intense, I don't know what is."
Edward was quiet for a moment, his hands shifting on the steering wheel. When he spoke, his voice was careful, controlled. "Does it bother you? The intensity?"
Bella considered this, studying his profile in the gray morning light. There was something almost vulnerable in the way he asked the question, like her answer mattered more than he wanted to admit.
"No," she said finally. "It should, probably. I should be running screaming in the opposite direction from the boy who just told me he wants to claim territorial rights over my entire existence. But..." She paused, searching for the right words. "I've never had anyone care about me like that before. Like I'm something worth being territorial about."
"Bella." Edward's voice was soft, wondering.
"Plus," she continued, aiming for lightness, "I figure if I'm going to have a vampire boyfriend, he might as well be the dramatic, intensity kind. It would be disappointing if you turned out to be the type who worries about normal things like test scores and whether your jeans make you look fat."
"I don't wear jeans that make me look fat," Edward said solemnly.
"See? This is what I'm talking about. You're too beautiful to have normal insecurities. It's refreshing."
"Too beautiful," Edward repeated, like he was testing the words for hidden meaning.
"Don't fish for compliments, Edward. You own mirrors. You know what you look like."
"I know what I look like to other vampires," Edward said quietly. "I wasn't sure how I appeared to... to someone like you."
"Someone like me?"
"Someone human. Someone whose opinion matters." Edward's voice grew even softer. "Someone I care about impressing."
The vulnerability in his voice made something twist in Bella's chest. Here was Edward Cullen—impossibly beautiful, supernatural, probably more sophisticated than half the adults she knew—worried about whether she found him attractive.
"Edward," she said gently. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen. Like, aggressively beautiful. The kind of beautiful that makes people forget how to form complete sentences. If I were the type to have celebrity crushes, you'd be at the top of the list, except you're actually here and apparently interested in me for reasons I still don't entirely understand."
"You don't understand why I'm interested in you?" Edward's voice carried genuine incredulity.
"Not really. I mean, I'm pretty solidly average. Brown hair, brown eyes, pale skin because I live in the Pacific Northwest. I read too much, I'm clumsy enough to be a liability in most social situations, and my idea of a wild Friday night is watching CSI reruns with a bag of microwave popcorn." Bella shrugged. "Not exactly the kind of girl who usually catches the attention of mysterious supernatural beings."
"Bella." Edward pulled into the school parking lot and turned off the engine, turning in his seat to face her fully. His golden eyes were intense, serious in a way that made her breath catch. "You're extraordinary. Not despite being human, but because of it. Because you see the world in ways I'd forgotten were possible. Because you're brave enough to trust me despite knowing exactly what I am. Because you look at me and see Edward, not just the vampire or the monster or the thing that shouldn't exist."
"You're not a monster," Bella said automatically.
"I could be," Edward replied quietly. "With you, I could be the worst kind of monster there is. And instead, you make me want to be better than I am. Better than I ever thought I could be."
The intensity in his voice, the raw honesty of it, made Bella's heart skip a beat. She found herself staring at him, taking in the perfect angles of his face, the way the gray morning light caught in his bronze hair, the careful way he held himself like he was afraid of his own strength.
"Edward," she said softly.
"Yes?"
"You're doing it again."
"Doing what?"
"Being intense," she said, but her voice was warm, affectionate. "It's very attractive, but if you keep looking at me like that, I'm going to do something embarrassing like swoon. And I refuse to be the type of girl who swooons, even over century-old vampire boyfriends who quote Byron."
Edward's smile was slow and devastating, transforming his face from marble sculpture to something warmer, more human. "I'll try to contain my intensity," he said solemnly. "Though I make no promises about the Byron quotes."
"I can live with the Byron quotes," Bella said, reaching for the door handle. "It's the swooning I'm worried about."
"If it helps," Edward said, climbing out of the car with that impossible fluid grace, "you're not the only one in danger of swooning."
"Vampires swoon?"
"This vampire does," Edward said, appearing at her side of the car before she'd even fully opened the door. "Constantly. It's becoming a serious problem."
He offered her his hand as she climbed out, and she accepted it without hesitation, marveling at the contrast between his obvious strength and the careful gentleness of his touch.
"We should probably work on that," Bella said, allowing him to help her out of the car. "Can't have you swooning all over Forks High School. People will talk."
"People are already talking," Edward pointed out, glancing around the parking lot where other students were beginning to emerge from the fog, backpacks slung over shoulders as they made their way toward the school building.
Bella followed his gaze and immediately noticed the way heads were turning in their direction, the way conversations seemed to pause and restart as people caught sight of Edward Cullen and Bella Swan standing together in the morning fog.
"Jesus," she muttered. "We're already the school's entertainment for the day, aren't we?"
"I'm afraid so," Edward said mildly. "Jessica's phone call last night was apparently quite thorough. By now, half the school knows I drove you home from Port Angeles."
"And the other half?"
"Will know by first period," Edward said with that small smile that suggested he was enjoying this more than he probably should. "High school gossip networks are remarkably efficient."
"Great. So I can look forward to a day of meaningful looks and whispered conversations and people asking me if we're dating." Bella glanced around the parking lot again, noting the way Tyler Crowley was blatantly staring at them from across the lot. "This is going to be fun."
"Are you embarrassed?" Edward asked, and there was something careful in his voice, like her answer mattered more than he wanted to admit.
"Embarrassed? No." Bella considered this for a moment. "Overwhelmed by the attention? Yes. But embarrassed to be seen with you? Never."
"Even knowing what I am?"
"Especially knowing what you are," Bella said firmly. "Edward, you could be a serial killer who collects vintage postcards, and I'd still be proud to be seen with you. The vampire thing is just... bonus points for uniqueness."
"Vintage postcards?" Edward asked, his eyebrows rising in elegant incredulity.
"Very specific serial killer," Bella explained solemnly. "The kind who leaves elaborate clues and probably has strong opinions about typography."
"I do have strong opinions about typography," Edward admitted.
"See? You'd be excellent at it. Though I prefer you as a vampire. Much more romantic."
"Vampirism is romantic?"
"When you do it, yes," Bella said, then immediately felt heat rise in her cheeks. "I mean—"
"When I do it?" Edward's voice carried obvious amusement.
"You know what I mean. All the brooding and the artistic suffering and the century of loneliness. It's very Gothic novel. Very..." She gestured vaguely at his face. "Very you."
"I'm a Gothic novel?"
"You're the hero of a Gothic novel," Bella corrected. "Mysterious, beautiful, tormented by your dark nature but ultimately redeemable through the power of love. It's a classic."
"And you're the heroine, I suppose?"
"I'm the plucky but naive heroine who doesn't have the sense to be afraid of the dark, mysterious stranger," Bella said cheerfully. "It's a very traditional dynamic."
"Plucky but naive," Edward repeated thoughtfully. "I'm not sure naive is the right word. You figured out what I was without any help from me."
"True. Maybe I'm the unusually perceptive heroine who asks too many questions and refuses to let mysterious strangers maintain their air of mystery."
"That," Edward said, his smile widening, "is much more accurate."
They were walking toward the school building now, and Bella was very aware of the way other students' heads continued to turn to follow their progress. She could practically feel the weight of curious stares, could hear the whispered conversations that started and stopped as they passed.
Edward Cullen and Bella Swan, walking to school together like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Like they belonged together.
"So," Bella said, partly to distract herself from the attention and partly because she was genuinely curious, "where are your siblings this morning? Usually you all arrive together, don't you?"
"They took Rosalie's car," Edward said, his mouth quirking in something that might have been amusement. "I think they wanted to give us some privacy this morning. Alice was particularly insistent about it."
"Alice was insistent about us having privacy?" Bella asked, filing away the information about Alice's apparent investment in their relationship for later consideration. "Should I be worried about what that means?"
"Alice likes romance," Edward said diplomatically. "She finds our situation... entertaining."
"Our situation?"
"The dramatic star-crossed lovers dynamic," Edward explained. "Alice has always been fond of love stories, especially complicated ones."
"Star-crossed lovers," Bella repeated. "Wow. We really are a Gothic novel, aren't we?"
"Complete with supernatural complications and probably a tragic ending," Edward said, his voice growing more serious.
"Hey." Bella stopped walking and turned to face him, noting the way his expression had shifted from amused to something darker, more troubled. "None of that. No tragic endings. This is a modern Gothic novel, which means the heroine gets to be more proactive about avoiding unnecessary tragedy."
"Bella—"
"Nope," she interrupted, reaching out to touch his hand. "No brooding about tragic endings before 8 AM. It's bad for morale."
Edward stared down at their joined hands, his expression cycling through emotions too quickly for her to identify them all. "You're very optimistic for someone dating a vampire."
"I'm very stubborn for someone dating a vampire," Bella corrected. "There's a difference."
"Is there?"
"Optimism is hoping things will work out. Stubbornness is refusing to let them not work out." Bella squeezed his hand gently. "Guess which one I am?"
"Stubborn," Edward said immediately, his smile returning. "Definitely stubborn."
"Good answer."
"Speaking of my siblings," Edward said, glancing around the parking lot, "you might want to prepare yourself for the sight of Rosalie's car."
"Why?" Bella asked, following his gaze. "What's wrong with Rosalie's car?"
"Nothing's wrong with it. It's just..." Edward paused, seeming to search for the right words. "Subtle isn't really Rosalie's strong suit."
"Subtle how?"
But before Edward could answer, Bella spotted it. There, parked in the far corner of the lot like a beacon of automotive excess, was a red convertible that looked like it belonged in a luxury car dealership rather than a high school parking lot.
Bella stared at it, her brain struggling to process what she was seeing. "Is that...?"
"Rosalie's BMW M3," Edward confirmed with obvious resignation. "She has strong opinions about German engineering."
"That's a BMW?" Bella's voice came out slightly strangled. "Edward, that car probably costs more than my dad makes in two years."
"Rosalie likes nice things," Edward said mildly, but Bella could hear the amusement lurking beneath his careful neutrality. "Actually, we all do. We've had a long time to accumulate resources, and we tend to invest in quality."
Bella turned in her seat to stare at him. "What else am I going to find out about your family? Do you live in a mansion? Do you have a private jet? Are you secretly funding some kind of vampire space program?"
"No space program," Edward said, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Though Emmett has suggested it. Apparently he thinks vampires in space would be 'totally badass.'"
"Please tell me you didn't seriously consider it."
"Carlisle had to explain the logistical difficulties," Edward admitted. "Emmett was disappointed."
"Of course he was." Bella shook her head, trying to wrap her mind around yet another aspect of vampire existence she hadn't considered. "So you're all rich?"
"Comfortable," Edward corrected. "When you have several decades to make careful financial decisions, money becomes less of a concern."
"Several decades of compound interest," Bella said slowly, the pieces clicking into place. "Right. Of course. Why wouldn't vampires be good at long-term financial planning?"
"Emmett prefers the stock market. Alice has an intuitive gift for predicting trends. Jasper understands human psychology well enough to anticipate market fluctuations." Edward's expression grew fond. "Carlisle has had the longest to practice, so he's become quite good at it."
"And Hadrian and Daenerys?"
"Hadrian and Daenerys have their own methods," Edward said carefully. "Usually through means that don't require traditional employment."
Bella was quiet for a moment, processing this new information. "Are you telling me that Hadrian and Daenerys are basically supernatural criminals?"
"I'm telling you that they're very good at getting what they want," Edward said diplomatically. "And they've been doing it for a very long time."
"That's not exactly a denial."
"No," Edward agreed. "It's not."
The way he said it—with that careful neutrality that suggested hidden depths—made Bella even more curious about Edward's mysterious siblings. Everything about Hadrian and Daenerys seemed designed to intrigue her, from their impossible eye colors to their apparent talent for acquiring things through questionable means.
"Speaking of Hadrian and Daenerys," she said, settling back in her seat and pulling Edward's coat more tightly around her shoulders. "You said they usually don't ride with you to school?"
"Hadrian prefers his motorcycle," Edward explained. "He says it gives him more freedom to take alternate routes if necessary. Daenerys rides with him."
"Alternate routes?"
"Hadrian is very concerned with having multiple exit strategies," Edward said with a small smile. "It's one of his more endearing quirks."
"Exit strategies for what?"
"Everything," Edward said simply. "Hadrian doesn't like to be trapped. He always wants to know he has a way out if things go badly."
"Things go badly often enough that he needs to plan for it?"
"Let's just say that Hadrian and Daenerys have had some... interesting experiences over the years," Edward said carefully. "They've learned to be prepared."
Bella nodded, filing that information away with everything else she was learning about the Cullen family dynamics. It was starting to become clear that each member of Edward's family had their own distinct personality, their own preferences and quirks that had developed over decades of supernatural existence.
"What about Katherine and Elizabeth?" she asked. "Do they drive something equally ridiculous?"
"A red Chevrolet Corvette," Edward replied without hesitation. "1969. Katherine restored it herself—apparently she has a gift for mechanical work."
"Of course she does." Bella laughed, though she wasn't entirely sure why she found this information so amusing. Maybe it was the mental image of elegant, composed Katherine Cullen with her hands covered in motor oil, bent over the engine of a classic car. "Let me guess—it's pristine condition, probably worth more than most people's houses?"
"Probably," Edward agreed. "Though they're more sentimental about that particular car than the others are about their vehicles. It has... history."
"What kind of history?"
"The kind that Katherine and Elizabeth will tell you about themselves if they want you to know," Edward said with that diplomatic tone that suggested the conversation was straying into territory he wasn't comfortable discussing.
"Right. More family secrets." Bella glanced around the parking lot again, noting the way other students continued to stare in their direction. "You know, for a family that's supposed to be blending in with human society, you all really suck at the inconspicuous thing."
"What do you mean?"
"Edward, you drive a Volvo that I managed to pick out of the parking lot on my first day of school because it was so obviously expensive. Rosalie drives what appears to be a BMW that costs more than most people's houses. Katherine and Elizabeth drive a classic Corvette. And apparently Hadrian has a motorcycle." Bella shook her head. "That's not blending in. That's like... aggressively not blending in."
"The cars are supposed to be our compromise with fitting in," Edward said, looking slightly defensive. "They're practical."
"Edward, there is nothing practical about a BMW convertible."
"It gets good gas mileage?"
"Try again."
"All right," Edward admitted. "The cars are Rosalie's doing. She insists that if we're going to pretend to be teenagers, we should at least pretend to be teenagers with good taste."
"And Carlisle just... goes along with this?"
"Carlisle has learned to pick his battles," Edward said diplomatically. "Besides, the cars make us happy, and happy vampires are less likely to cause problems."
"Happy vampires," Bella repeated. "Right. Because unhappy vampires are presumably bad for property values."
"Among other things."
Before Bella could ask what 'other things' meant, the shrill sound of the first warning bell cut through the morning air, signaling that they had five minutes to get to their first classes.
"Come on," Bella said, reluctantly pulling away from the warmth of Edward's coat and reaching for the door handle. "If I'm late for first period, Mr. Mason will make me diagram sentences for the rest of the week."
Edward was out of the car and around to her side before she'd even fully opened her door, moving with that impossible speed that was becoming familiar. He offered her his hand as she climbed out, and she accepted it without hesitation, marveling at the contrast between his obvious strength and the careful gentleness of his touch.
"Your coat," she said suddenly, starting to shrug out of the charcoal gray wool.
"Keep it," Edward said, his hands stilling her movements. "At least until the fog burns off. You'll be cold without it."
Bella looked down at herself, swimming in expensive wool that smelled like safety and something indefinably masculine. "Edward, this probably costs more than my car."
"Probably," he agreed with that small smile that was becoming her favorite expression. "But I'd rather you be warm."
"You'd rather I be warm, or you'd rather see me wearing your clothes?"
"Both," Edward said without hesitation, his golden eyes dancing with mischief. "Though I admit the second reason is significantly more compelling."
"Territorial vampire boyfriend," Bella said, but she was smiling as she pulled the coat more tightly around her shoulders. "I should have known."
"You should have," Edward agreed solemnly. "We're very predictable that way."
"Are you? Predictable?"
"When it comes to you?" Edward's voice grew softer, more serious. "Absolutely. I want to keep you safe, keep you warm, keep you close. I want to make sure nothing hurts you, including me. It's not particularly complicated."
The casual way he said it—like her wellbeing was his primary concern in life—made something flutter in her chest. Bella found herself studying his face, noting the way his golden eyes had grown serious, the careful way he held himself like he was afraid of his own strength.
"Thank you," she said softly, not just for the coat but for everything—for picking her up, for trusting her with his secrets, for looking at her like she was something precious instead of something to avoid.
"Thank you," Edward replied, his voice just as soft, "for giving me a reason to do those things."
They walked toward the school building together, and Bella was very aware of the way other students' heads turned to follow their progress. She could practically feel the weight of curious stares, could hear the whispered conversations that started and stopped as they passed.
Bella found that she didn't mind the attention nearly as much as she'd expected. Let them stare. Let them whisper. Let them wonder what the strange new girl had done to capture the interest of the most beautiful, most mysterious boy in school.
She knew something they didn't—something impossible and dangerous and wonderful.
She knew that Edward Cullen was a vampire who'd been seventeen years old for nearly ninety years, who could read minds and move faster than human eyes could follow, who sparkled like diamonds in direct sunlight.
And she knew that despite all of that—or maybe because of it—she was completely, irrevocably in love with him.
Everything else was just details.
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Hey fellow fanfic enthusiasts!
I hope you're enjoying the fanfiction so far! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. Whether you loved it, hated it, or have some constructive criticism, your feedback is super important to me. Feel free to drop a comment or send me a message with your thoughts. Can't wait to hear from you!
If you're passionate about fanfiction and love discussing stories, characters, and plot twists, then you're in the right place! I've created a Discord (HHHwRsB6wd) server dedicated to diving deep into the world of fanfiction, especially my own stories. Whether you're a reader, a writer, or just someone who enjoys a good tale, I welcome you to join us for lively discussions, feedback sessions, and maybe even some sneak peeks into upcoming chapters, along with artwork related to the stories. Let's nerd out together over our favorite fandoms and explore the endless possibilities of storytelling!
Can't wait to see you there