Midnight Sun (Twilight #1.5)(142)

"And the others?" she insisted on more information.

"Nomads, for the most part. We've all lived that way at times. It gets tedious, like anything else. But we run across the others now and then, because most of us prefer the North."

"Why is that?" she asked, and I realized I gave more information than I intended.

I parked her truck in her driveway then, and turned the truck off. I decided I wouldn't mention anything about the Southern Wars at this moment.

"Did you have your eyes open this afternoon?" I teased. "Do you think I could walk down the street in the sunlight without causing traffic accidents? There's a reason why we chose the Olympic Peninsula, one of the most sunless places in the world. It's nice to be able to go outside in the day. You wouldn't believe how tired you can get of nighttime in eighty-odd years." I mused.

"So that's where the legends come from?" she asked, interested.

"Probably," I smiled.

"And Alice came from another family, like Jasper?" Bella inquired.

She had so many questions, but I answered anyways, "No, and that is a mystery. Alice doesn't remember her human life at all. And she doesn't know who created her. She awoke alone. Whoever made her walked away, and none of us understand why, or how, he could. If she hadn't had that other sense, if she hadn't seen Jasper and Carlisle, and know that she would someday become one of us, she probably would have turned into a total savage." I explained to her.

Suddenly, her stomach made a rumbling noise. I suddenly realized that through the day I had forgotten to feed her! I was instantly angry at myself for not making sure she was taken care of.

"I'm sorry, I'm keeping you from dinner." And I was sorry.

She tried to play it off, "I'm fine really." But her stomach was still making hungry grumbles.

"I've never spent much time around anyone who eats food. I forgot." I tried to explain, hoping she wasn't angry at me, like I was with myself.

"I want to stay with you." She admitted.

I wanted to stay with her too, very much so.

"Can't I come in?" I asked, hoping for an invite.

Her eyes sparkled then, like she never thought of this idea before, "Would you like to?" she asked, excitement in her voice.

"Yes, if that's all right." My excitement over powered me and in one second I was out the driver's side door, and opening the passenger's side.

I never wanted to leave her, and the feelings that were pulsing through me were extremely pleasant. Bella didn't flinch at my instantaneous movement.

"Very human," she complimented, sarcastically.

"It's definitely resurfacing," I teased.

Bella stepped out of the car and we slowly made our way to her front door. I walked closely beside her, reveling in her warmth and beauty. Bella glanced my direction several times, like she was checking to make sure I was still there. Before we arrived at her front door, I strode ahead of her to swipe her key from the eave and open the door for her. She began to walk in, but paused in the door frame, realizing something, "The door was unlocked?" she questioned me.

"No, I used the key from under the eave," I admitted to her, instantly realizing my mistake.

She had never used the key in front of me that she knew about. She stepped inside the house and turned to flip the porch light on. She stared at me dubiously and raised her eyebrows. I knew I had to tell her the truth.

"I was curious about you."

"You spied on me?" she said, with little inflection in her voice.

She hadn't convinced me she was angry, I knew I'd be forgiven, "What else is there to do at night?" I explained.

She turned away from me, and I quickly raced by her and entered the kitchen before she did. I sat in a chair at the kitchen table. Bella's eyes didn't leave mine for several moments. She finally looked away. I hated it when she looked away from me; I could no longer see inside her mind by means of her deep brown eyes. I watched her curiously. She rummaged through the fridge until she pulled something out. It smelt like tomatoes and oregano, blah. I watched her place the food onto a plate and put it in a microwave. She never took her eyes off the plate of food as it rotated in the microwave.

"How often?" she questioned.

"Hmmm?" I asked. I was distracted by my internal babbling.

She still didn't turn around when she spoke, like she knew she was able to hide things easier when I couldn't read her expressions. "How often did you come here?" she asked very softly.

"I come here almost every night," I admitted, hoping she would forgive me for being the peeping tom.

She whirled around then, the vortex of air she made sent her warm aroma all around me and I took her scent into my lungs. My throat ached dully. "Why?" she gasped.

"You're very interesting when you sleep." I suppressed a laugh, "You talk." I explained.

"No!" she gasped, with a little O of horror on her face.

I heard her pulse begin to hammer rapidly, and watched as the blood made its way swiftly up to her cheeks, coloring them red. She leaned into the kitchen counter, grasping it for support, I assumed. If she were to fall, I'd catch her. She didn't say anything else; her face was expressing many emotions, embarrassment, fury, and annoyance. I was immediately displeased by my actions, would she ask me to leave now?