What Happens When You Lose Your Heart's

When I Write A Story, It's Not Like I'm Thinking About What I'm Doing

Charlie Took My Hand And, In A Symbol As Old As The World, Placed It In Edward’s. I Touched The Cool Miracle Of His Skin, And I Was Home.

I Didn't Want To Be The Monster! I Didn't Want To Kill This Room Full Of Harmless Children! I Didn't Want To Lose Everything I'd Gained In A Lifetime Of Sacrifice And Denial!

That Was The First Night I Dreamed Of Eward Cullen.

I Tensed, Waiting For The Fury - Both His And Mine - But It Was Only Quiet And Calm In The Darkness Of His Room. I Could Almost Taste The Sweetness Of Reunion In The Air, A Separate Fragrance From The Perfume Of His Breath; The Emptiness When We Were Apart Left Its Own Bitter Aftertaste, Something I Didn't Consciously Notice Until It Was Removed. There Was No Friction In The Space Between Us. The Stillness Was Peaceful - Not Like The Calm Before The Tempest, But Like A Clear Night Untouched By Even The Dream Of A Storm.