You. Are. Not. Leaving. Me.

But If You Ever Bring Her Back Damaged Again - And I Don't Care Whose Fault It Is; I Don't Care If She Merely Trips, Or If A Meteor Falls Out Of The Sky And Hits Her In The Head - If You Return Her To Me In Less Than The Perfect Condition That I Left Her In, You Will Be Running With Three Legs. Do You Understand That, Mongrel?

That’s Edward. He’s Gorgeous, Of Course, But Don’t Waste Your Time. He Doesn’t Date. Apparently None Of The Girls Here Are Good-looking Enough For Him.

I Stared Into Her Eyes, Wide Under The Thick Fringe Of Lashes, And Yearned For Sleep. Not For Oblivion, As I Had Before, Not To Escape Boredom, But Because I Wanted To *dream*. Maybe, If I Could Be Unconscious, If I Could Dream, I Could Live For A Few Hours In A World Where She And I Could Be Together. She Dreamed Of Me. I Wanted To Dream Of Her.

I Was An Empty Shell. Like A Vacant House―condemned―for Months I'd Been Utterly Uninhabitable. Now I Was A Little Improved. The Front Room Was In Better Repair. But That Was All―just The One Small Piece. He Deserved Better Than That―better Than A One-room, Falling-down Fixer-upper. No Amount Of Investment On His Part Could Put Me Back In Working Order.

Do I Dazzle You? - Edward Frequently - Bella