Summary: Edward despises Valentine's Day with a passion. What will he do when love is in the air? Set during Twilight, so pre-EdwardxBella.

Disclaimer: Roses are red, violets are blue, I don't own Twilight, so please don't sue.

February 14, 2005.

Love was contaminating the air of the Cullen household. I had escaped to my room, but I could not escape my family members' thoughts. Try as I might to give them privacy, there was only so much I could avoid seeing. Esme was painting a picture of cupid, and the cherub had an uncanny resemblance to her lost son; Carlisle was carefully arraigning the dozen each of red and white roses he had gotten for Esme; Jasper and Alice were staring into each other's eyes in Alice's room; Emmett and Rosalie were "detailing" the back of her M3. I gagged at the last one. It was enough to make me want to bash my head against my bedroom wall.

I sighed audibly.

Esme appeared right outside my bedroom door, apparently done with her newest masterpiece.

"Come in, Esme," I uttered as I turned off my sound system. She entered my room and sat down gracefully on my couch.

"You look heartsick, Edward, and I don't think it is entirely due to the date. Has a certain human caught your eye?" Esme looked entirely too hopeful as she questioned me.

"No. She has just unfortunately caught a monster's nose," I replied to her initial question.

You aren't a monster, Edward. "Even monsters need love, you know." Don't shut her out just because she's human. She's the only one who's ever had this much effect on you.

"If love is as insane as the couples in this house, I think I'll stay out of it."

"Who says you have a choice, Edward?" asked Esme sweetly.

"I don't have a choice, Esme," I replied, slightly irritated to have this topic broached again. "I'm not allowed to speak with her. For her sake and ours."

"What about for your sake?" You deserve to be happy. She's changed you in ways you might not have noticed.

"No," I replied shortly.

You usually aren't this touchy around Valentine's Day.

Why was everyone sensing a change in me? I was the same person. I did the exact same things. I tried to go back to how I was before I met her. After all, my family was convinced that she was a danger to us, and I was convinced that she was a danger to me — and herself. I had to suppress a smirk at that idea. Even while I ignored her, I wasn't blind enough to miss her absolute lack of grace. How could I answer Esme's implicit question? I went the simple route: "I'm fine."

No, you aren't. You're even more secluded than normal. You sit up in your room for hours. You only speak with us when it's absolutely necessary. We miss you.

"I'm sorry." I didn't know what exactly I was apologizing for, but if Esme was upset about something, it was unforgivable to leave her unhappy.

You don't have to apologize for anything. I just want you to be happy. You've been alone too long, Edward.

"And who do you suggest for me? Who could possibly share eternity with me? Who would love me like you love Carlisle? No, Esme. I'm complete alone."

But Bella's mere presence has changed you. Don't you see the potential? You've saved her once! She could save you! Esme was nearly bursting with the 'could-bes.' I had to stop her before this got out of hand.

"No, Esme. Even if there was any potential, I'm forbidden contact, remember?"

There's so much you can say without words, Edward. Flowers, for instance. I'm sure she'd love roses.

At that moment, Rosalie entered the room and saved me from Esme's ponderings. However, it wasn't entirely welcome.

Rosalie was glaring at me, of course. "Edward knows he's not allowed to interact with the girl more than absolutely necessary." I nearly flinched at the way in which Rosalie spit out the word 'girl', but I wasn't going to act on my human impulse to protect her. I'd already come to the conclusion that Bella needed protection against me. I was the worst candidate for her guardian angel. "Esme, you're simply encouraging dearest Edward's angst. Leave him alone." And you, Edward, leave Esme alone. Her hope can be dangerous.

"I didn't start this!" I spat at Rosalie. For her to insinuate that I wanted this attention was cruel. I just wanted to be left alone.

"But you could have finished long ago! If you hadn't interfered with fate, this wouldn't be an issue at all!" shouted Rosalie.

She imagined a tombstone with Bella's name on it. I could not hide my cringe this time. She'd dealt a low blow, but if she thought I'd let it go, she was wrong.

"Don't blame me simply because I saved a human from this. Don't hate the girl just because she has a path that you can never get back." I emphasized the last three words to further the cruelty.

"Edward. Rosalie. Stop." This came from Esme. I'd nearly forgotten that she was there.

Again, I couldn't deny Esme's request. "Fine." As peeved as I was with Rosalie, I would not make Esme suffer too. She deserved it least of all.

I descended the stairs and settled at my piano bench. Beethoven's Fifth rushed from my fingertips. Perfect. The keys were the medium of my anger, and the melody was the cue for my family to stay away from me. Thank God that they actually listened to common sense and the music; it was my not-so-subtle hint that I truly wanted to be left alone.

As my fingers caressed the keys, I began to feel better. The intricate melodies took over my brain, and I was soon able to entire block the thoughts of my family. With the activities that they were planning, they most definitely needed mental privacy. For my sanity.

The piece drew to a close, but my fingers never stilled. The raw emotion channeled into a softer melody, full of longing, tenderness, but with an undertone of pain. Carrying me unwillingly along, the piece wrote itself. Then it clicked: it was a lullaby for Bella.

No! I was forbidden by my family to see her, talk with her. The piece, however, seemed to have a life of its own. It would not obey my mind. The melody's roots were an enigma, just like Bella Swan.

How charming and cliché, I thought to myself. I had written a lullaby on Valentine's Day for Bella Swan — la mia cantante.

A/N: Thanks to my lovely beta Kat for her much-needed help. :-) Please don't be afraid of that little "submit review" button… It really means a lot! Thanks in advance.