"I feel like she's going to take one look at me and laugh."

He doesn't look up from his pad as he responds, but his eyebrows furrow in deep thought.

He has really bushy eyebrows.

Clearing his throat, he continues. "Have you talked to anyone about this? Jasper?"

I wipe my shaky hands on my pant legs and stare at the clock on his desk. Garfield stares back. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, -

"Edward?"

I glance at him quickly. 7, 8, 9, 10.

"No. I have not."

Isabella Marie Swan is 23 years old. She's from Atlanta, Georgia. She's getting her Masters Degree in Sociology. She has at least one sister named Rosalie and her parents are married. Happily married? I don't fucking know.

She's a reader, but she also loves to go to the movies. Mainly for the popcorn, but the movie is a bonus if it's good. She doesn't like to hold hands. She doesn't like anything romanticized but she likes romantic gestures.

She bites her bottom lip when she's deep in thought, but she also plays with her hair when she's nervous.

I've noticed all of these things over time. Yes, I've eavesdropped on conversations. Yes, I'm kind of a stalker. I know that much.

I don't go out of my way to follow her or anything, but I do make it a point to sit where I can see her or hear her when we're in the same space.

It's been a minute though. A hot minute since I've actually done any of these things. The main reason is because it's becoming a problem.

Another reason is because someday soon, I'm going to approach her, and I want to make sure I'm in the right frame of mind.

Well, as right as it can be.