"So."

  "So."

  "We have until midnight."

  Bella looked up at me, her dark eyes shining mischieviously, reflecting the first stars above. Her hair was splayed around her pale face like a halo on the grass, catching the rays of dying twilight that fell across the meadow. She raised her hand and traced my jaw with her fingers, the touch lighter than a feather. I breathed in, her scent sweet and warm.

  "That's not long," I told her, gazing up at the darkening sky.

  "It's long enough," she said, "Besides, it was you who imposed this time keeping upon us. If it had been up to me…"

  I supressed laughter but could not disguise the smile. It seemed strange that it was I who was trying to maintain the human tradition of not seeing the bride on the wedding day, not the human herself.

  "It's important to me," I replied, taking her hand in mine, "Just as you are."

  The sound of her heartbeat accelerating fluttered in my ears. I touched her fingers to my lips experimentally, and sure enough, the pace quickened. I looked at her, amused by the red tint of her cheeks.

  "You did that on purpose," she chided, but not angrily.

  "Me? I didn't do anything," I said innocently. I examined her hand, saw the crescent scar that sat nestled in her palm, and my mood blackened, pain burning in my throat. The eternal question crept unbidden into my mind: was I really doing the right thing? Was I merely leading her into more danger. The thought frightened me more that rogue vampires or the Volturi. I paused, my fingers millitmetres from the scar.

  "Edward?"

  Bella's voice interrupted my thoughts. Her wide eyes appraised me anxiously.

  "I think you might like this one better," she murmured, tugging her hand from my grip, and giving me her other one. My lips turned upwards unconsciously. She was right. I did like this hand better. I turned it over, so I could see more clearly the ring on her finger.

  "Yes. Much better," I whispered, and kissed it, the metal cold on my lips.

  Bella snuggled into my arms, her head rested in the crook between my neck and my head. Her hair tickled my face. I kept my hand tightly around hers.

  "I love you, Edward," she breathed sleepily.

  How could I reply? How to voice how I felt, to tell her I would build cities, destroy countries, kill anybody to keep her safe; to tell her that everyone person I knew and loved could die, and I could cope if she was at my side; to tell her that sometimes the love I felt for her seemed to much for one person to bear, and I felt I would explode; to tell her that tomorrow there never had been, and never would be, a man happier than I? There were no words to express all this.

  "I love you, too" I said, kissing her head.

  When I looked down she was fast asleep.