Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

The moment he stepped out of his car he sighed in resignation, the light drizzle that had been falling steadily all day turned into a full blown downpour.

The grating of a nasal voice swearing at the rain and the season in general pulled his focus from his inner musings. "This is why I hate this stupid time of the year. Stupid untimely rain is going to make my hair all frizzy now. Ugh! I don't know how you stand it, Eddie."

Closing his eyes, he cursed his thrice damned sister-in-law in silence. How could Rosalie set him up with this woman on a blind date of all things? Blind dates just weren't his thing. All he wanted to focus on was his work, obviously, his family had a problem with how he chose to spend his time. So his nosy sister-in-law had taken it upon herself to make sure that Seattle's most eligible bachelor wasn't left without a trophy wife, much like her.

Edward let out a breath slowly to calm the anger rearing its head inside him and responded mildly, "I prefer Edward, nothing else, Ms. Denali."

Like the daft air-headed bimbo she was, Tanya Denali made a noise through her nose that possibly suggested her displeasure before saying, "But everyone else calls you Edward. I want to be different from them. If it makes you feel better, you can call me Tan."

Glancing at his date for the evening, Edward noted that there was nothing tan about her. Her eyes were this weird shade of burgundy which was probably due to contact lenses. Seriously why would anyone wear burgundy contacts? he wondered before saying, "Thank you, Ms. Denali."

Half an hour later—twenty minutes of which, Tanya spent in the ladies' room—Edward got a call from Rosalie.

"What did you do this time, robot?" his sister-in-law greeted him.

"Hello to you too, Rosalie," he said, attempting to be polite. "What did I do about what?"

"About my friend, you dumbass!" Rosalie was pretty much screaming on the other side of the phone. "Tan called me and told me that she hates me for setting her up with a stiff."

Edward couldn't help but recall something similar happening in the past. "So ..." he asked slowly. "I'm guessing she left too like the other girl from last week?"

"Who, Lauren?" Rosalie asked. "Oh no! Tan didn't even want to face your robotic ass on her way out so she climbed through the bathroom window."

The image of Tanya Denali in her perfectly fitted thigh-length cocktail dress climbing down the bathroom window made him laugh. "Guess I'm a chick-repellant, Rose," he stated with no small amount of glee. "So you should quit setting me up and leave me be."

"Oh no you don't!" Rosalie grumbled in his ear. "You were purposefully being an ass to her, weren't you? Why did you do it? What was wrong with her? I know you didn't like that Lauren was self-centered, but what was wrong with Tanya, Edward?"

"She hates fall," he replied simply. "I know it's stupid, but I don't want to be with someone who hates the nature just because it ruins her hairdo."

Rosalie growled something like "You're impossible".

"It's true … she said she hates fall ..." Edward started to say but the line was already dead.

"How can anyone hate fall?" A sweet voice asked from behind him, making him turn around and then stop breathing for a moment. There, standing in front of him, wearing a simple navy blue t-shirt and a pair of light blue skinny jeans with a server's apron tied around her waist, was the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on.

"I just love fall," the girl said. A quick glance at her nametag revealed that her name was Isabella. "I mean how can you not love the smell of burning dry leaves and the feeling on season's first raindrops falling from the sky and ..." Isabella was saying.

The elderly manager of the music café, Jake, stepped in then. "Bells," he sighed loudly, making his beer-belly jiggle a little. "Not again, kid. People come here to eat, not listen you fantasize about burning leaves!"

The old man's chastisement made her blush, and Edward watched with fascination as her alabaster skin flushed pink making her dark eyes look even more beautiful than at first glance. "Oh! I'm so sorry," Isabella said sweetly, taking bows left and right in a show-man style. "Me and my Fall serenade are leaving you to eat in peace. Bon appetit, lovely people."

Her exuberance made the diners smile and laugh and she beamed back, blew a kiss at Jake and walked off in the direction of the kitchen.

When she brought Edward his bill, she said in a conspiratorial voice, "Don't make compromises about what you love."

"What?" he asked, confused.

She blushed and smiled. "Your date … she was a pansy if she couldn't handle a little fall rain."

So full of life! Edward thought as he watched her walk away with the check, her long brown ponytailed hair swishing with her steps.

After once more getting his ass chewed off by his sister-in-law … this time for taking her friend to a music café instead of a swanky restaurant (The I thought it would make me seem less uptight excuse didn't work with Rosalie), Edward headed back to his house on the other side of the town.

Designed by his big brother, Emmett, and decorated by his mother, his house usually felt like a sanctuary to him … a home away from home.

However, that night, with the chill fall wind rustling the leaves of the tree next to his window, Edward felt utterly lonely.

Broken images of hairs being caressed by the wind and hands brushing against each other to seek warmth flashed through his brain .

Fall means hope of something new, a voice from a long forgotten dream whispered in his ears.

But he firmly closed the door to that place in his mind before it consumed him.

Avoiding that thought, he tried to think of the bright sun peeking through the clouds and crunch of leaves getting crushed under feet as he took the steps to move forward, leaving the ghosts of the past where they belong—in the past.

The last thought that crossed his sleep-deprived mind was that Isabella's chestnut hair was a darker shade of the crunchy fall leaves she said she loved.

Two days later, Edward found himself taking a detour on his way home to Black's Music Café. He was surprised at his impulsiveness, it had been a while since he broke his routine. So why did he suddenly feel the urge to come here?

They play live music, he told himself. I've always loved music.

However, the moment he stepped through the door and his eyes met those deep chocolate ones, he knew he was kidding himself. It wasn't the music that pulled him there, it was her.

With a smile on her slightly disproportionate yet perfect lips, Isabella walked up to greet him. "Hi. Welcome to Black's Music Café. I'm Isabella and I'll be your server this evening."

Something inside him seemed to twist painfully as he realized she hadn't recognized him. She probably smiles at all her customers, he thought sadly. But then, she smiled and whispered. "Hey, how are you?"

"Yo-you remember me?" He had to ask.

She nodded. "The Fall Fanatic. I recognized your hair. It's ..."

Edward ran a hand through his hair, wishing it's perpetual messiness would give him a break. "It's a mess, I know," he said.

She giggled at his expression of helplessness. "I was going to say it's a beautiful shade of bronze … almost like fall leaves."

Edward felt the tips of his ears get warmer. "So why did you greet me like that if you recognized me?" he asked, trying to divert the conversation.

It worked. Isabella pointed to an octogenarian man sitting in a wheelchair and said, "That's Billy, Jake's dad. He wants us to be formal with our guests."

"Oh!" He smiled then, feeling silly for thinking too much into it.

After setting down his ordered drink and double-cheese burger in front of him, Isabella said playfully, "You really shouldn't eat those greasy foods or you'll get a beer-belly like Jake."

Edward couldn't help but laugh at her remark. "Do you always warn your guests against health hazards of greasy foods?" he asked her.

"Nope," she responded, shaking her head so that her ponytail swished around too. "Just the ones too pretty to grow a beer-belly."

He snorted. "Pretty? I think that's the first time I've been called that."

Isabella gave him an indignant look. "Well you are pretty. No men should have eyelashes that long."

He batted the said eyelashes at her teasingly. "So you're jealous of my eyelashes, Miss …?"

"Swan," she said, rolling her eyes. "And yes, maybe I am."

"You're calling me pretty? Do you know how beautiful you are?" he wanted to tell her, but held his tongue. Instead, he grinned. "You're welcome to borrow my eyelash curlers, if you want."

Narrowing her eyes, she asked, "What's your name?"

"Edward," he answered, taking a bite of his burger.

"Well, Edward ..." she started before stopping and poking her tongue out at him.

One moment.

For one long moment, they stared at each other before breaking into laughters.

That day, Edward realized that he still could laugh and more importantly, it felt good to laugh again.

After that evening, Edward found himself going back to the café every week, and despite what he told himself, it was not the food or the music that called out to him. No, it was those dark eyes and the sweet smile of Isabella Swan.

Almost a month after their first encounter, Edward was on his usual morning jog when he saw a now familiar shade of chestnut a few yards ahead of him. The way her hair swung across her back as she ran was almost hypnotic as he ran to catch up to her. "Bella!" he called.

The figure stopped and turned to face him and then he was granted the sight of that beautiful smile. "Edward? Fancy seeing you here. Are you trying to lose all the greasy burgers from Black's?"

"Maybe," he grinned back. That's when he took in the entirety of her appearance. Dressed in perfectly-fitted shorts and a figure-hugging tanktop, Isabella Swan looked sinfully delicious. As soon as the thought entered his head, he felt himself harden, his eyes unable to look away from the perfection standing before him.

Taking slow calming breaths, he asked in a voice hoarse with arousal, "I've never seen you here before. Do you live closeby?"

She nodded. "Just around the corner."

Edward felt his eyebrows pull together in confusion. "But that's where the State University is ..."

She lifted an eyebrow as if to suggest he was missing the obvious. "I live in the dorm there."

"Dorm?" He asked, feeling his throat drying up. Oh God! he thought. I had such improper thoughts about such a young girl? Fuck, Cullen, what have you done?

"Edward?" It was the sound of her voice that clued him in on the fact that he had zoned out wondering if he was a creeper for flirting with her.

"I ..." He closed his eyes to take a deep breath before opening them and looking at an invisible spot a foot over her head. "I have to go. Have a great day, Isabella."

Before she could say anything to him, he turned around and ran in the direction opposite to her, all the while chanting in his head, stupid stupid Edward!

He ran away.

"One day, you'll find someone who'll make you smile for no reason," a voice seemed to whisper in her ears as she watched him start to jog away in the opposite direction.

For a moment, she remembered how she held the frail hands of her ailing mother and the way those deep brown eyes of hers turned glassy with unseen dreams for a happier future for her daughter.

After losing her father in an early age, Reneé, her mother, used to be her everything until cruel life decided to take her away from her too. That's when Isabella had decided to flip life the bird and be happy no matter how hard life tried to pull her down.

It had been sometime since she had found herself getting interested in a man. But with Edward … it was like he was in sync with her. The time she had spent talking to him in between her breaks and their meetings at Jake's, it felt like he was the other half of her soul. She didn't know how to explain how that man made her feel, but she knew that he did.

With her last boyfriend, Mike, it had never been so … deep … like this. The way one mere look from Edward seemed to make her catch on fire … that was definitely a first. She found herself smiling at the way he seemed to flirt with her. He makes me smile, Mom, she wished she could tell her mother.

That's when Isabella Swan decided to show Edward Cullen by her actions how she was falling for him. Does he feel the same? She wondered as she slowly picked up her jogging again, her mind full of Edward Cullen.

He tried really hard … for one whole week to resist that invisible pull he felt toward the café—or if he was being honest to himself—to Isabella Swan.

The way she smiled at him, the way she moved around him, serving the guests and the sway of her hips as she ran was embedded in his mind. After that day, he happened to run into her every morning on his morning run. Every time their paths crossed he seemed to discover something else about her that just added to her beauty in his eyes.

No matter how much he tried to reason with his foolish heart, the following week, his feet seemed to have a mind of their own and unsurprisingly, they led him right back to her.

As he walked through the door, making the small bell chained on top of it tinkle sweetly, old Jake's eyes found him. When Edward offered a polite smile in response to the probing stare of Jake's beady eyes, he jerked his head to the side as if to indicate where he should seat himself before hollering, "Bells, your friend is here."

Isabella, who had just entered the dining area from the kitchen, looked at the table Edward usually occupied. One look at him, and a beautiful smile lit up her face. "Silly lovesick girl." Jake muttered under his breath next to Edward and then walked off to attend to the guests a few tables away.

The words spoken by the elderly owner made Edward stop breathing for a moment. Lovesick girl? he wondered. He can't mean lovesick for me, right? No! I'm way too old for her.

"Hey there, stranger," Isabella greeted him, bringing him out of his reverie. "I thought you forgot your way to me."

There was something in her voice that made his throat dry up. I'm not right for you, Isabella, he wanted to tell her. Instead he said with an air of nonchalance, "What can I do? I'm in love with your burger."

Her face darkened for a moment before she smiled again. "Well, now that I know you exercise, you can indulge every now and then," she said with a small wink. "So what can I get ya? You usual?"

He let out a sigh of relief as the conversation turned to food and nodded enthusiastically. "Please."

However, when Isabella brought out two burgers instead of one and walked up to him without her apron, he was confused. "I'm taking my break now," she said in a manner of explanation. "Mind if I join you?"

Yes, I do mind, because when I'm with you all I can think of is you; and that can't be right, he wanted to say, but nodded toward the seat opposite to him instead.

"Thanks," she said sweetly before taking her seat.

Edward's burger was forgotten as he watched her unwrap the savory goodness and take her first bite. The moment she let out a soft hum of pleasure, he knew he was in trouble because all he could imagine was all the ways he could make her hum like that and none of them involved food.

Cullen, you're fucked! He told himself as he watched her try to lick a drop of cheese from the corner of her lips.

He cleared his throat and moved in his seat to give his tightened pants some breathing room. That seemed to catch her attention. She looked up from her food and frowned. "Why aren't you eating? You don't like it?"

"Not hungry," he mumbled. In a desperate attempt to divert his mind from venturing further into the gutter, he asked, "How old are you, Isabella?"

"Twenty two," she answered with a questioning look on her face. "You?"

"Thirty four," he replied. And much too old for you.

"Oh!" She looked at him closely before adding in a soft voice, "My mom always said I'm older than my age though. She used to call me an old soul."

Edward caught the note of melancholy in her voice. "Used to?"

"She died when I was eighteen. Brain tumor."

Before Edward knew what was doing, he had placed his hand on top of hers and was squeezing it. "I'm sorry," he said, not knowing what else to say.

She shrugged. "It was a long time ago." For a few moments, there's nothing but silence surrounding them before she flipped their hands and grazed his fingers with hers. "This is nice," she whispered in a low voice as if it was meant to be just for herself.

"Isabella ..." Edward said, his tone a mixture of warning and apology.

Shit! Shit! Shit! Isabella's brain kept chanting as she cursed her foolish heart. Too soon!

From the moment she had heard this man speak so passionately about her favorite season, she had taken a keen interest in him.

She closed her eyes, regretting the words her heart had spoken without the permission of her brain. Don't back down now, a voice very much like her mother's said in her head. So she opened her eyes and looked into his eyes, her chocolate brown finding the bottomless sea green of his. "Edward, I know it's too soon to say this, but I guess I can't keep it in anymore," she started. "I like you, Edward. A lot."

One.

Two.

Three.

She counted her heartbeats before Edward asked in a hoarse voice, "What?"

She swallowed and then repeated, "I said that I like you."

He blinked rapidly before letting out a low hmm.

"Say something," she urged.

"Thank you." That was all he said, probably not knowing how those two words broke her heart.

"Okay ..." she started, trying to contain her aching heart inside her chest. "I just wanted you to know. You don't have to like me back anyway ..."

"Isabella," he said, stopping her word vomit mid-sentence. "Did you hear how old I am?"

She frowned. You don't look that old to me, she wanted to say, but held her tongue and simply nodded.

He sighed, running a hand through his already messy hair in frustration. "Don't you see how wrong I am for you, Isabella?" he asked.

She shook her head.

His jaw clenched, a hardened look coming over his face. "Well, you should," he almost spat the words out at her. "You're just a naive girl with a silly school girl crush. Trust me you'll get over it," he said, standing up from his seat and reaching for his wallet.

She held up a hand then. "It's on me," she said simply. Just as he was turning toward the exit, she called out to him. "Edward?"

He let out a huff. "Yes, Isabella?"

She stood up to look him in the eyes. Her eyes stung with unshed tears but she held her ground. "I'm not naive, you are," she told him. "One day, you'll realize that." Then before he could see her tears, she walked away from him, feeling like there was a gaping hole where her heart used to be.

"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" he cried out, cursing himself for the way he had acted in the past hour or so. He punched the wall next to his head where he had been busy banging it as he wished he could take back the hurt he had caused her. But even he knew he couldn't take it back no matter how much he wanted to. With his head resting against the wall in resignation, he whispered, "Charlotte, I wish I could talk to you … I need my best friend now."

Charlotte, he realized, would have had a lot in common with Isabella … including himself.

After eleven days and six hours of trying and failing miserably to think of anything else but Isabella, Edward found himself standing in his brother's kitchen with his twin nieces on either arm.

The girls blew raspberries at each other and then started to giggle, making him smile after what felt like forever.

"Hey little brother," Emmett greeted him as he walked in. "These monkeys driving you crazy already?"

Edward shook his head. "Nah. I love spending time with the giggle-bears," he replied, which of course made the girls giggle.

"Thanks for babysitting, bro," Emmett said, taking baby Erica from him and handing him a beer. "Rosie and I appreciate it a lot."

"I'm happy to do it."

Rosalie came in that moment and held out a phone to Emmett. "Carlisle wants to talk to you," she murmured, handing him the phone and taking the baby from him. They watched Emmett walk out of the kitchen to talk to his father. It wasn't until Edward let out a soft sigh that Rosalie broke the silence. "Wanna talk about it?"

"About what?" Edward asked, pretending to be confused.

Ever the brash one in the family, Rosalie said, "About why you look like you are trying to shit a brick."

"It's nothing," he said, hoping she'll let it go.

Of course he wasn't that lucky.

"It's a girl, isn't it?" she asked, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

Realizing that there was no chance of escaping her inquisitive eyes, he nodded slowly.

"Finally!" she exclaimed, looking heavenward as if to thank the God for this miracle. "So ..." she started sitting up straighter. "Tell me about her. Who is she? Do I know her?"

In the face of all her questions, he blurted out the only thing he had been thinking of all evening. "She's twenty two."

For a moment, Rosalie said nothing, as if waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn't, she asked, "So what?"

He frowned. "So she's young! Way too younger than me."

"Wow … you're kidding, right?" she asked, looking flustered for the first time since he had met her. "Edward, who cares how old she is?"

"I should!" he replied indignantly as much to himself as he did to her.

Rosalie sat there in silence for a minute before saying, "Just tell me one thing, Edward, do you like her?"

"Yes," he whispered, unable to deny it any longer.

"Close your eyes for a second," she requested. When he complied, she asked in a hushed voice, "What do you see in your future?"

When he thought of a future, in the darkness behind his closed eyelids, a myriad of images flooded his senses … the faces of his parents … his nieces … his brother ... a framed photograph of Charlotte and then … all the images blended into a point of light. Edward felt his mind following the glow of that light. The light kept moving forward, enticing him to go after it. After a moment, the light stopped moving and began to shine brighter than ever. He saw a figure standing underneath it, cradling something.

"Hello?" Edward felt his voice ask.

The figure slowly turned around with a beautiful baby in her arms … a child with bronze hair and deep chocolate eyes.

"Edward?" sound of his sister-in-law's voice made him snap his eyes open. "What did you see?"

Shaken up by the revelation, all he could say was a name. "Isabella."

Isabella … Isabella … Isabella … he felt himself chant her name in his heart as he moved closer toward the closed doors of the café … the place he had come to associate to Isabella in the past few months they had known each other.

When the doorbell tinkled with his entrance, he saw Jake's gray-haired head poke up from the cash register. He thought there was a flicker of something in the old man's glance as he nodded toward him. Taking a seat in his usual table, Edward checked his watch. It was time for her usual shift. He craned his head to see if she was approaching his table, but all he could see was Jake's cold eyes drilling holes in his head as he approached him … a tray in his hands.

"Hey, Jake," he started but was quickly stopped in mid-sentence as the man held up a wooden plaque from the tray in his hands. It read, "We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone". Looking at Edward with wrathful eyes Jake said, "You're not welcome here anymore. So get moving."

"What?" he asked, dumbfounded.

Jake narrowed his eyes at him then. "Don't you think you've done enough, buddy? You've made her unhappy."

Unhappy? Edward thought, feeling his heart break as he remembered the despicable way he had talked to her the other day. "Where is she?" he asked the older man desperately. "Please, I need to see her."

"She's not here."

"Jake, please," he pleaded. "I need to see her. Please tell me where she is. I need to tell her how sorry I am."

"Why should I tell you?" Jake asked roughly. "So you can go and hurt her all over again?"

"Please," Edward begged, starting to sound like a broken record to himself. "You don't know how I feel about her."

"Do you?"

His question made Edward take a deep breath. Then he nodded, his eyes downcast. "I do now."

Jake looked at him with suspicion for a long moment. "You won't hurt her again?" the older man asked slowly.

"Not if I can help it," he responded.

His misery seemed to melt the stone hearted Jake Black as he sighed and said, "She hasn't been in for the last two days. She called in sick."

Sick? Isabella is sick. My Isabella is sick … It was all Edward could think of as he requested Jake for her address.

The moment Jake handed him a piece of paper with her address on it, he pretty much ran out of the door, desperate to get to where he now knew his heart lay.

The sound of someone knocking hard on her door woke her up. Feeling disgruntled and achy all over, she gathered the covers around her and shuffled toward the door. The knock came again, harder this time.

"Sheesh, Jake! You're about to break down my door," she grumbled as she unlocked the door and threw it open. The sight that greeted her was something she had been having hallucinations of in her flu-ridden mind. "Oh crap!" she murmured, closing her eyes and waiting for her delusional mind to make the dream-Edward disappear.

However, unlike the last times, this Edward didn't go away. Instead, she felt cold hands cupping her heated face and pulling her face up to meet his eyes. Have his eyes always been so green? she wondered. Then because she was so sure he was just a figment of her overactive imagination, she asked, "Did you know your eyes look like fresh green leaves?"

He blinked in response and then a smile came over his lips … those damned kissable looking lips. "You like my eyes?" he asked, his breath fanning over her face, making her dizzy with her good his cologne smelled in her head.

"I like everything about you," she replied. She was in the middle of listing off all the things she liked about him when she remembered how his words had hurt him a few days ago … or was it weeks? She had lost sense of time moping in her self-pity. Not anymore, she told herself.

Pulling away from his embrace, she pointed an accusing finger at him. "You're a jerk, Cullen," she snapped. "You think I'm a little girl, do you?"

He sighed. "I did."

"Well, you're wrong. I'm not a girl. And you're not the old grandpa you think you are, mister," she was saying, finally on a roll to get all her thoughts out of her heart. "You think I'm not woman enough for you?"

Instead of arguing with her like her hallucinatory Edwards did, this one said sadly, "You are, but I don't deserve you."

She felt her anger flare up at his tone. "Who gives you the right to decide who deserves me or not? You're such a dumbass ..." that was all she could get out before her exhaustion got the better of her and she felt the world around her become dark.

Edward managed to grab her in his arms before she could fall to the ground. "Fuck!" he cursed out loud as he realized she had fainted. How sick was she, he wondered, feeling a strange pain twist his heart as he moved a lock of her hair to look at her.

So pure … so perfect …

Slowly moving to cradle her in his arms, he carried her toward the bed covered in a fluffy violet duvet. When he reached her bed, he laid her down carefully on the bed and went to the kitchen sink making a washcloth from his handkerchief and the cold water so he could bring her back to consciousness. As he was about to put the wet cloth on her forehead, he couldn't help but kiss her skin, feeling how soft it was and how sweet she smelled.

Sprinkling her face with cold water, she opened her beautiful and unusually bright eyes to look at him. She gasped, scurrying to get away from him. "You're real!" she whispered after a bit.

He pretended to look at himself in awe and said, "So I am."

She glared at him and asked, "How are you here?"

"Jake gave me the directions to your dorm, and the girl in the room downstairs, Laura, I think, led me to your door."

"Lauren," she corrected before asking again, "I mean why are you here, Edward?"

He thought of all the things he could tell her … all the things he had been dying to tell her and instead, he said simply, "Because I couldn't stay away."

She scoffed at him then. "You're really weird, you know that?" she asked, her voice breaking a little because of the strain.

He held out the glass of water he had gotten for her, and she drank from it gratefully before looking at him. "You think I'm a young child, but you know what, Edward? You're the child here. You think I'm your plaything, don't you? So you can play with me when you please and when you get bored, you'll simply push me away?"

"Isabella, no ..."

But she wasn't done yet. "You can't just come waltzing into my life and make me fall for you and then run away when it doesn't suit you, Cullen!"

He reached out to place a hand on hers, silencing her with his eyes, begging for a chance to tell his side of the story. "Isabella, please, may I speak?"

She sighed, suddenly looking tired. "Not tonight, please. I'm tired and I ache everywhere. We'll talk when I can think clearly, okay?"

He nodded, knowing she needed to rest. "I'll be here when you're ready," he responded, leaning in to kiss her temple as she drifted off to sleep.

Isabella woke with a start. She had just had the most vivid nightmare. She had dreamt that he was here and had kissed her. She took a deep breath, hoping against hope that it wasn't all a dream. As she lifted her head to find a messy head of fall-tinged hair resting against her bed cover, she let out the breath she was holding in. So it wasn't a dream.

Without really knowing what she was doing, her hand reached out to touch his hair, a sudden softness came onto her as she looked at his face. Sleeping with his hair all tousled and his way-too-long-for-a-man eyelashes resting against his cheeks, he looked so peaceful and innocent that a soft sigh escaped Isabella.

The sound of her breath seemed to wake him up. With a confused look on his face, he raised his head from where it was resting next to her hand, making Isabella drop her hand quickly. He looked around him with frown lines marring his forehead and then his eyes found hers. "Oh! I'm sorry ... " he mumbled. "I didn't plan on falling asleep here. I was going to stay up all night and take care of you … and instead I fell asleep."

He looked so adorable in his self reprimand that she couldn't help but tease him just a little. "You'll make the worst nurse ever." The tips of his ears grew red at that as he smiled that shy smile he rewarded her with sometimes when he came in to the café.

The café.

Like a landslide of emotions it all came crashing back to her. Instead of handing him his ass like she had done the night before, she simply asked again, "Why are you here, Edward?," genuinely curious this time.

He closed his eyes and when whispered, "Because I got tired of trying to stay away from you."

That made her happier than she had been since the night he left her lonely and broken at Jake's. Trying to hide her smile, she asked, "So what's for breakfast?" She was trying to make him flustered, but instead, he grinned and bowed to her. "Pancakes, if you want them, milady."

He stood up and helped her out of bed and then as if he couldn't help himself, he leaned down and brushed his lips against her temple. "I'm sorry," his whispered apology lingered in the room when he walked out

By the time Isabella got out back from taking a shower, she could smell something mouth-watering coming from her room. Stepping inside, she was greeted by Edward Cullen holding two plates of pancakes and wearing a bright smile. "You breakfast is served, Miss Swan," he said with a wink.

"You made me pancakes?" she asked in surprise.

He glanced at the coffee table set for two with a package marked iHOP on it, looking a little guilty. "If we were at my home with fire extinguishers around, I'd have given it a try ..."

She stopped him midway by shaking her head. "This is perfect."

When they were sitting down together to eat, he started talking. "Isabella, I can't tell you how sorry I am for the way I acted that night at Jake's."

She felt her eyebrows pulls together. She took her time to chew the mouthful of the fluffy buttery goodness and swallowing it before saying, "I don't want an apology, Edward. What I want is an explanation. Did I read all the signs wrong? If you say that you've never felt anything for me, I'll walk away from your life without saying another word."

This time, it was he who stopped her by placing a hand on hers. "You weren't wrong," he said. "I was scared … of how you make me feel."

"What do you mean?"

"I have a past, Isabella," he replied, his eyes not meeting hers.

"Hey," she said, nudging his calf with her bare foot. "We all have some kind of a past, it doesn't matter to me as long as it doesn't eclipse the future."

" … as long as it doesn't eclipse the future."

A future.

A future with her … his beautiful fall-loving girl.

A future with Isabella.

The more he thought about having a future with her, the more he wanted her in that future. So he took a deep breath and started talking. "I loved a girl once—Charlotte Williams. She was my highschool sweetheart. We had planned to get married fresh out of college. But before we could graduate, she died."

"Fuck!" she cursed under her breath before placing a warm hand on his. "What happened?"

"Car accident," he said, surprised at how the tears that always seemed to find their way down his face were absent that day. "She was coming from her school to meet me, but on the way, her car hit a patch of black ice and crashed into a tree. By the time someone found my number on her phone and called me, she was already gone."

"Oh Edward!" Putting down her plate, Isabella moved closer to put her arms around him in a hug.

Edward found himself holding her close to himself, his thirsty heart finally quenching its thirst for love in her embrace. "I'm so sorry," she was saying, her face hidden in his neck. Then, as if an invisible damn had been broken, she was speaking, letting out what seemed like an ocean of hurt. "I know how it feels to lose someone you love. My dad was killed in the line of duty when I was just six years old. I barely remember him. But my mom, she was my best friend and the only family I had."

"Will you tell me about her?" Edward asked, itching to ease her pain.

"Brain tumor," she answered his unspoken question. "I was seventeen when she was diagnosed. Three months from the time the doctor told us is all I had with her before death took her away from me."

Edward felt his eyebrows pull together. "Then you've been alone all these years?"

She raised her head to meet his eyes and nodded, putting on a brave smile. "Yes." And in that moment, in the light from the fall sun filtering through her dormitory window, Edward felt himself fall in love again … this time, hard and fast.

As if of their own volition, his arms pulled her until she was sitting on his lap and the way her big beautiful brown eyes looked up at him made him feel like he couldn't breathe. Her lips were so enticingly inviting.

"Isa...Bella?" he asked softly.

"Hmm?" she hummed, her fingers playing with the small hairs in the back of his head.

"I want to kiss you."

Her lips parted, revealing her beautiful smile before she whispered, "I think I'm not opposed to that."

Holding her face in his hands, he leaned in, brushing his lips against hers … once … twice … and then once more before a fire seemed to ignite inside him and he pressed his lips more firmly to hers.

Instead of pushing him away, like he half-expected her to do, she tangled her fingers in his hair and kissed him back with equal fervor.

Bella … my Bella, he thought as he drowned himself in the oblivion of her love.

Three weeks later

Edward felt her squeeze his hand softly as they took a stroll through the park. "What is it?" he asked.

"This is nice," she responded, her face uplifted as if to greet the fleeting fall sun as twilight grew closer.

"It sure is," he said, his eyes fixed on her instead of their surroundings. "I still think you could do better than this old man I hear you're dating."

"Hey!" She opened her eyes to look at him reproachfully. "That's my man you're talking about. And as it happens, I love that man."

Four words. Four simple words was all it took for him to stop dead in his tracks. She tugged on his hand a little. "Edward? Baby?"

"You … love me?" he asked quietly, wishing he hadn't heard her wrong.

She nodded, biting her lips in that shy way he adored. "I do."

He simply stared at her for a few moment, his heart racing like a butterfly's wings at her declaration. She loves me … my Bella loves me … was all he could think.

Seemingly he had been quiet for too long, because she started talking fast like the way she did when she was nervous. "It's okay. Really. You don't have to say it back. I just wanted to tell you how I feel. It's probably way too early anyway ..."

The rest of her rant was cut off by his passionate kiss. He kissed her like his life depended on this one kiss. Both breathless, he parted his lips from hers and said, "I love you too, Bella."

Her big chocolate brown eyes were full of surprise with a twinkle of hope in them. She asked between breaths, "You do?"

He nodded, wishing they were at somewhere private so he could properly show her just how much he loved her. Instead, he decided to tell her with his words. "I love you, Isabella Swan. You're like the sun to me. When I was dreading the winter of life, like an fall sun you dawned on my life, sprinkling sunlight all over it, making life seem magical once more."

By the time he was finished, a steady stream of tears was running down her cheeks, making her the most beautiful woman in his world. "Without you, I was living, but I wasn't alive. I was drifting like a crunchy fall leaf, floating around aimlessly … vulnerable to being crushed at any moment. But then you came into my life. You make me feel alive, Edward Cullen, and I love you with all my heart."

Like the old man he was, he answered, "Ditto, baby," making her giggle sweetly as he pulled her lips to his once more.

Host's Note: Thank you for reading, and please don't forget to review. Public voting runs November 7th to November 13th. Please remember to keep this contest anonymous by not leaving hints or theories as to who the author may be.