“Don’t laugh at me, Edward!” she said, her tone clear with false authority, “this is standard operating procedure…”

I tilted my head back towards her with implication, raising one brow.

“Oh yes. You are quite the survival expert. Vampire fiancé’s and werewolf friends…”

As I spoke the word fiancé, I felt a little thrill. It was petty, but it was my appropriate title for now. A variation on a theme.

She glowered from the bag at the use of the word. She was beyond adorable. I smiled widely back at her, attempting to dazzle her. In that moment, as I watched her hop, I marveled at her ability to alter and affect my frequently shifting moods. My morning was torn into agonized pieces, but with her here with me, I felt whole and complete. I felt…happy.

Edward 1, Bella 1…it was a tie…

I chuckled at her again.

She rolled her eyes, turning away from me to resume her hopping. After completing a few successful hops, she turned her head to smirk at me, raising her brow. She was impressed by her own balance. Her teeth chattered in a spurt of quick, sharp noises. I gave her a look of concern. She stuck her tongue out at me. She was enjoying herself. She took two more careful hops towards the makeshift bed I’d set up for her.

She tried to lower herself to lie down on the bed and almost fell sideways. I rolled my eyes. I caught her swiftly and lowered her down on the impromptu bed.

"Bella…seriously…"

"What?" she smiled. "That was pretty good, admit it, Edward!"

I couldn't help but laugh. Her eyes were glowing with an almost childish light in them. I shamelessly admired her. She was completely enveloped in the tunnel of the sleeping bag. I smiled at her, only half-heartedly. She'd never looked more beautiful. She'd never looked so fragile. She let out a breath, resigning to her new, less dangerous position. Instantly, her scent swirled around me. I barely noticed the venom. I barely noticed the burn.

Just then, the loud moan from the forceful wind shook the tent with unprecedented ferocity. She looked back at me with wide eyes. And then, almost in immediate response, the temperature took a steady dip. I looked down at her delicate frame and for the first time felt a little fearful that the storm may be too much for her, perhaps we acted in haste coming this high up, this quickly? Would a lower elevation have been more appropriate for her?

The wind whistled. I broke from her gaze and listened to the force of the wind. There was a change, although it was slight. It would be below forty degrees soon.

“We’ll be okay, Edward…” she said, sensing my concern.

In an effort to look courageous, she beamed at me, thinking thoughts I would never hear.

The wind then blew the most elaborate gust yet, shaking the tent and rattling our provisions in the corner. The temperature dropped again. This time the noise startled her. Her brittle body moved as another uncontrollable shiver shook her.