Midnight Sun

by Stephenie Meyer

  "It's charming. Does it have a name?" Esme asked.

  "Not yet."

  "Is there a story to it?" she asked, a smile in her voice. This gave her very great pleasure, and I felt guilty for having neglected my music for so long. It had been selfish.

  "It's...a lullaby, I suppose." I got the bridge right then. It led easily to the next movement, taking on a life of its own.

  "A lullaby," she repeated to herself.

  There was a story to this melody, and once I saw that, the pieces fell into place effortlessly. The story was a sleeping girl in a narrow bed, dark hair thick and wild and twisted like seaweed across the pillow...

  Alice left Jasper to his own devices and came to sit next to me on the bench. In her trilling, wind chime voice, she sketched out a wordless descant two octaves above the melody.

  "I like it," I murmured. "But how about this?"

  I added her line to the harmony--my hands were flying across the keys now to work all the pieces together--modifying it a bit, taking it in a new direction...

  She caught the mood, and sung along.

  "Yes. Perfect," I said.

  Esme squeezed my shoulder.

  But I could see the end now, with Alice's voice rising above the tune and taking it to another place. I could see how the song must end, because the sleeping girl was perfect just the way she was, and any change at all would be wrong, a sadness. The song drifted toward that realization, slower and lower now. Alice's voice lowered, too, and became solemn, a tone that belonged under the echoing arches of a candlelit cathedral.

  I played the last note, and then bowed my head over the keys.

  Esme stroked my hair. It's going to be fine, Edward. This is going to work out for the best. You deserve happiness, my son. Fate owes you that.

  "Thanks," I whispered, wishing I could believe it.

  Love doesn't always come in convenient packages.

  I laughed once without humor.

  You, out of everyone on this planet, are perhaps best equipped to deal with such a difficult quandary. You are the best and the brightest of us all.

  I sighed. Every mother thought the same of her son.

  Esme was still full of joy that my heart had finally been touched after all this time, no matter the potential for tragedy. She'd thought I would always be alone...

  She'll have to love you back, she thought suddenly, catching me by surprise with the direction of her thoughts. If she's a bright girl. She smiled. But I can't imagine anyone being so slow they wouldn't see the catch you are.

  "Stop it, Mom, you're making me blush," I teased. Her words, though improbable, did cheer me.

  Alice laughed and picked out the top hand of "Heart and Soul." I grinned and completed the simple harmony with her. Then I favored her with a performance of "Chopsticks."

  She giggled, then sighed. "So I wish you'd tell me what you were laughing at Rose about," Alice said. "But I can see that you won't."

  "Nope."

  She flicked my ear with her finger.

  "Be nice, Alice," Esme chided. "Edward is being a gentleman."

  "But I want to know."

  I laughed at the whining tone she put on. Then I said, "Here, Esme," and began playing her favorite song, an unnamed tribute to the love I'd watched between her and Carlisle for so many years.

  "Thank you, dear." She squeezed my shoulder again.

  I didn't have to concentrate to play the familiar piece. Instead I thought of Rosalie, still figuratively writhing in mortification in the garage, and I grinned to myself.

  Having just discovered the potency of jealousy for myself, I had a small amount of pity for her. It was a wretched way to feel. Of course, her jealously was a thousand times more petty than mine. Quite the fox in the manger scenario.

  I wondered how Rosalie's life and personality would have been different if she had not always been the most beautiful. Would she have been a happier person if beauty hadn't at all times been her strongest selling point? Less egocentric? More compassionate? Well, I supposed it was useless to wonder, because the past was done, and she always had been the most beautiful. Even when human, she had ever lived in the spotlight of her own loveliness. Not that she'd minded. The opposite--she'd loved admiration above almost anything else. That hadn't changed with the loss of her mortality.

  It was no surprise then, taking this need as a given, that she'd been offended when I had not, from the beginning, worshiped her beauty the way she expected all males to worship. Not that she'd wanted me in any way--far from it. But it had aggravated her that I did not want her, despite that. She was used to being wanted.

  It was different with Jasper and Carlisle--they were already both in love. I was completely unattached, and yet still remained obstinately unmoved.

  I'd thought that old resentment was buried. That she was long passed it.

  And she had been...until the day that I finally found someone whose beauty touched me the way hers had not.

  Rosalie had relied on the belief that if I did not find her beauty worth worshiping, then certainly there was no beauty on earth that would reach me. She'd been furious since the moment I'd saved Bella's life, guessing, with her shrewd female intuition, the interest that I was all but unconscious of myself.

  Rosalie was mortally offended that I found some insignificant human girl more appealing than her.

  I suppressed the urge to laugh again.

  It bothered me some, though, the way she saw Bella. Rosalie actually thought the girl was plain. How could she believe that? It seemed incomprehensible to me. A product of the jealousy, no doubt.

  "Oh!" Alice said abruptly. "Jasper, guess what?"

  I saw what she'd just seen, and my hands froze on the keys.

  "What, Alice?" Jasper asked.

  "Peter and Charlotte are coming to visit next week! They're going to be in the neighborhood, isn't that nice?"

  "What's wrong, Edward?" Esme asked, feeling the tension in my shoulders.

  "Peter and Charlotte are coming to Forks?" I hissed at Alice."

  She rolled her eyes at me. "Calm down, Edward. It's not their first visit."

  My teeth clenched together. It was their first visit since Bella had arrived, and her sweet blood didn't appeal just to me.

  Alice frowned at my expression. "They never hunt here. You know that."

  But Jasper's brother of sorts and the little vampire he loved were not like us; they hunted the usual way. They could not be trusted around Bella.

  "When?" I demanded.

  She pursed her lips unhappily, but told me what I needed to know. Monday morning. No one is going to hurt Bella.

  "No," I agreed, and then turned away from her. "You ready, Emmett?"

  "I thought we were leaving in the morning?"

  "We're coming back by midnight Sunday. I guess it's up to you when you want to leave."

  "Okay, fine. Let me say goodbye to Rose first."

  "Sure." With the mood Rosalie was in, it would be a short goodbye.

  You really have lost it, Edward, he thought as he headed toward the back door.

  "I suppose I have."

  "Play the new song for me, one more time," Esme asked.

  "If you'd like that," I agreed, though I was a little hesitant to follow the tune to its unavoidable end--the end that had set me aching in unfamiliar ways. I thought for a moment, and then pulled the bottle cap from my pocket and set it on the empty music stand. That helped a bit--my little memento of her yes.

  I nodded to myself, and started playing.

  Esme and Alice exchanged a glance, but neither one asked.

  "Hasn't anyone ever told you not to play with your food?" I called to Emmett.

  "Oh, hey Edward!" he shouted back, grinning and waving at me. The bear took advantage of his distraction to rake its heavy paw across Emmett's chest. The sharp claws shredded through his shirt, and squealed across his skin.

  The bear bellowed at the high-pitched noise.

  Aw hell, Rose gave me t
his shirt!

  Emmett roared back at the enraged animal.

  I sighed and sat down on a convenient boulder. This might take awhile.

  But Emmett was almost done. He let the bear try to take his head off with another swipe of the paw, laughing as the blow bounced off and sent the bear staggering back. The bear roared and Emmett roared again through his laughter. Then he launched himself at the animal, who stood a head taller than him on its hind legs, and their bodies fell to the ground tangled up together, taking a mature spruce tree down with them. The bear's growls cut off with a gurgle.

  A few minutes later, Emmett jogged over to where I was waiting for him. His shirt was destroyed, torn and bloodied, sticky with sap and covered in fur. His dark curly hair wasn't in much better shape. He had a huge grin on his face.

  "That was a strong one. I could almost feel it when he clawed me."

  "You're such a child, Emmett."

  He eyed my smooth, clean white button-down. "Weren't you able to track down that mountain lion, then?"

  "Of course I was. I just don't eat like a savage."

  Emmett laughed his booming laugh. "I wish they were stronger. It would be more fun."

  "No one said you had to fight your food."

  "Yeah, but who else am I going to fight with? You and Alice cheat, Rose never wants to get her hair messed up, and Esme gets mad if Jasper and I really go at it."

  "Life is hard all around, isn't it?"

  Emmett grinned at me, shifting his weight a bit so that he was suddenly poised to take a charge.

  "C'mon Edward. Just turn it off for one minute and fight fair."

  "It doesn't turn off," I reminded him.

  "Wonder what that human girl does to keep you out?" Emmett mused. "Maybe she could give me some pointers."

  My good humor vanished. "Stay away from her," I growled through my teeth.

  "Touchy, touchy."

  I sighed. Emmett came to sit beside me on the rock.

  "Sorry. I know you're going through a tough spot. I really am trying to not be too much of an insensitive jerk, but, since that's sort of my natural state..."

  He waited for me to laugh at his joke, and then made a face.

  So serious all the time. What's bugging you now?

  "Thinking about her. Well, worrying, really."

  "What's there to worry about? You are here." He laughed loudly.

  I ignored his joke again, but answered his question. "Have you ever thought about how fragile they all are? How many bad things there are that can happen to a mortal?"

  "Not really. I guess I see what you mean, though. I wasn't much match for a bear that first time around, was I?"

  "Bears," I muttered, adding a new fear to the pile. "That would be just her luck, wouldn't it? Stray bear in town. Of course it would head straight for Bella."

  Emmett chuckled. "You sound like a crazy person, do you know that?"

  "Just imagine for one minute that Rosalie was human, Emmett. And she could run into a bear...or get hit by a car...or lightening.. .or fall down stairs...or get sick--get a disease!" The words burst from me stormily. It was a relief to let them out--they'd been festering inside me all weekend. "Fires and earthquakes and tornados! Ugh! When's the last time you watched the news? Have you seen the kinds of things that happen to them? Burglaries and homicides..." My teeth clenched together, and I was abruptly so infuriated by the idea of another human hurting her that I couldn't breathe.

  "Whoa, whoa! Hold up, there, kid. She lives in Forks, remember? So she gets rained on." He shrugged.

  "I think she has some serious bad luck, Emmett, I really do. Look at the evidence. Of all the places in the world she could go, she ends up in a town where vampires make up a significant portion of the population."

  "Yeah, but we're vegetarians. So isn't that good luck, not bad?"

  "With the way she smells? Definitely bad. And then, more bad luck, the way she smells to me." I glowered at my hands, hating them again.

  "Except that you have more self-control than just about anyone but Carlisle. Good luck again."

  "The van?"

  "That was just an accident."

  "You should have seen it coming for her, Em, again and again. I swear, it was like she had some kind of magnetic pull."

  "But you were there. That was good luck."

  "Was it? Isn't this the worst luck any human could ever possibly have--to have a vampire fall in love with them?"

  Emmett considered that quietly for a moment. He pictured the girl in his head, and found the image uninteresting. Honestly, I can't really see the draw.

  "Well, I can't really see Rosalie's allure, either," I said rudely. "Honestly, she seems like more work than any pretty face is worth."

  Emmett chuckled. "I don't suppose you'd tell me..."

  "I don't know what her problem is, Emmett," I lied with a sudden, wide grin.

  I saw his intent in time to brace myself. He tried to shove me off the rock, and there was a loud cracking sound as a fissure opened in the stone between us.

  "Cheater," he muttered.

  I waited for him to try another time, but his thoughts took a different direction. He was picturing Bella's face again, but imagining it whiter, imagining her eyes bright red...

  "No," I said, my voice strangled.

  "It solves your worries about mortality, doesn't it? And then you wouldn't want to kill her, either. Isn't that the best way?"

  "Forme? Or for her?"

  "For you," he answered easily. His tone added the of course.

  I laughed humorlessly. "Wrong answer."

  "I didn't mind so much," he reminded me.

  "Rosalie did."

  He sighed. We both knew that Rosalie would do anything, give up anything, if it meant she could be human again. Even Emmett.

  "Yeah, Rose did," he acquiesced quietly.

  "I can't... I shouldn't... I'm not going to ruin Bella's life. Wouldn't you feel the same, if it were Rosalie?"

  Emmett thought about that for a moment. You really...love her?

  "I can't even describe it, Emmett. All of a sudden, this girl's the whole world to me. I don't see the point of the rest of the world without her anymore."

  But you won't change her? She won't last forever, Edward.

  "I know that," I groaned.

  And, as you've pointed out, she's sort of breakable.

  "Trust me--that I know, too."

  Emmett was not a tactful person, and delicate discussions were not his forte. He struggled now, wanting very much not to be offensive.

  Can you even touch her? I mean, if you love her...wouldn't you want to, well touchier...?

  Emmett and Rosalie shared an intensely physical love. He had a hard time understanding how one could love, without that aspect.

  I sighed. "I can't even think of that, Emmett."

  Wow. So what are your options, then?

  "I don't know," I whispered. "I'm trying to figure out a way to...to leave her. I just can't fathom how to make myself stay away..."

  With a deep sense of gratification, I suddenly realized that it was right for me to stay--at least for now, with Peter and Charlotte on their way. She was safer with me here, temporarily, than she would be if I were gone. For the moment, I could be her unlikely protector.

  The thought made me anxious; I itched to be back so that I could fill that role for as long as possible.

  Emmett noticed the change in my expression. What are you thinking about?

  "Right now," I admitted a bit sheepishly, "I'm dying to run back to Forks and check on her. I don't know if I'll make it till Sunday night."

  "Uh-uh! You are not going home early. Let Rosalie cool down a little bit. Please! For my sake."

  "I'll try to stay," I said doubtfully.

  Emmett tapped the phone in my pocket. "Alice would call if there were any basis for your panic attack. She's as weird about this girl as you are."

  I grimaced at that. "Fine. But I'm not staying past Sunday."


  "There's no point in hurrying back--it's going to be sunny, anyway. Alice said we were free from school until Wednesday."

  I shook my head rigidly.

  "Peter and Charlotte know how to behave themselves."

  "I really don't care, Emmett. With Bella's luck, she'll go wandering off into the woods at exactly the wrong moment and--" I flinched. "Peter isn't known for his self-control. I'm going back Sunday."

  Emmett sighed. Exactly like a crazy person.

  @

  Bella was sleeping peacefully when I climbed up to her bedroom window early Monday morning. I'd remembered oil this time, and the window now moved silently out of my way.

  I could tell by the way her hair lay smooth across the pillow that she'd had a less restless night than the last time I was here. She had her hands folded under her cheek like a small child, and her mouth was slightly open. I could hear her breath moving slowly in and out between her lips.

  It was an amazing relief to be here, to be able to see her again. I realized that I wasn't truly at ease unless that was the case. Nothing was right when I was away from her.

  Not that all was right when I was with her, either, though. I sighed, letting the thirst fire rake through my throat. I'd been away from it too long. The time spent without pain and temptation made it all the more forceful now. It was bad enough that I was afraid to go kneel beside her bed so that I could read the titles of her books. I wanted to know the stories in her head, but I was afraid of more than my thirst, afraid that if I let myself get that close to her, I would want to be closer still...

  Her lips looked very soft and warm. I could imagine touching them with the tip of my finger. Just lightly...

  That was exactly the kind of mistake that I had to avoid.

  My eyes ran over her face again and again, examining it for changes. Mortals changed all the time--I was sad at the thought of missing anything...

  I thought she looked...tired. Like she hadn't gotten enough sleep this weekend. Had she gone out?

  I laughed silently and wryly at how much that upset me. So what if she had? I didn't own her. She wasn't mine.

  No, she wasn't mine--and I was sad again.

  One of her hands twitched, and I noticed that there were shallow, barely healed scrapes across the heel of her palm. She'd been hurt? Even though it was obviously not a serious injury, it still disturbed me. I considered the location, and decided she must have tripped. That seemed a reasonable explanation, all things considered.

  It was comforting to think that I wouldn't have to puzzle over either of these small mysteries forever. We were friends now--or, at least, trying to be friends. I could ask her about her weekend--about the beach, and whatever late night activity had made her look so weary. I could ask what had happened to her hands. And I could laugh a little when she confirmed my theory about them.