Stupid Red Notebook

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

AH, and I hope it's in character.

POV: Edward

I was a bad person. A bad bad bad bad bad person. If there was a hell I was sure to burn in it. Why was I such a bad person? Because I was in love with one of my students.

I had been so ready the leave this place. I had gotten my masters degree and I was ready to go out into the world. But upon my graduation the head of the music department had come and offered me a job. It was just one class. They needed someone to teach the Classical Music Appreciation class. If I did well they might offer me a permanent position. I though why not? It's a chance that most students don't get.

So here I was, teaching a class. I had been warned about many things by other, older teachers. Always be prepared in case the computers fail. Don't be surprised if the kids never do their homework. There had been a lot of advice like that. The biggest piece of advice had come from one of the male English teachers.

"Edward, you are very attractive young man. I can already tell that many of your female students are going to be giving you a lot of attention. Don't be intimidated by this. It happens all the time. But you also have to remember that you cannot date a student who is in one of your classes."

He was right, many of my female students were attracted to me, but I was able to ignore it. I was too frustrated by the fact that she obviously wasn't attracted to me.

I knew nothing about her. I didn't know her major. I didn't know why she was in this class. I didn't even know her name.

When I had still been a student, the year before, I had always hated it when teachers tried to get to know the students with their stupid games or asking random questions that they would never remember the answer to. I had promised that I would not subject my class to that, but now I wanted to desperately.

I felt like she was teasing me. She would always be the first to class. She would sweep in past the desk that I stood behind most of the class, never making eye contact, settle down in her seat and open a book. I knew that she liked to read, but I never got close enough to see what. I had once considered asking her about her reading but she gave off a do not disturb vibe so I never bothered her. She would read as the other students filed in. Then, the second I would turn the projector on to begin that days lecture; she would close her book and pull out her red notebook.

That damn notebook. I knew she wasn't taking notes. She never looked up the entire class. Her eyes never moved off of the pages of that notebook that she was always writing in. I wanted to stop her, to take it away, to make her pay attention, but I forced myself to remember what the other teachers had told me: "Don't get upset if you have a student or two that isn't paying attention. If they don't care then you shouldn't care."

But I did care. Too much. That was the problem.

I watched her far too much. She sat in the second row of the miniature lecture hall, so she was right at my eye level. She was very pretty in a subtle way. She had soft brown hair and gorgeous brown eyes. She was pale, she practically glowed. I was going to hell.

She was constantly straining my self-control. She seemed to have some kind of oral fixation that drove me insane. Everything seemed to go in her mouth. Her hair, her fingers, the pendant on her necklace, she would even chew on the edge of her pencil when she paused in the middle of her writing. It was a good thing I spent most of the class behind a desk or else my frustration would have been evident to the rest of the class.

Then, one day, as I had been warned, the computer broke down. I was prepared though and managed to scribble the notes up onto the board for the students to copy. Much to my displeasure though, this meant that I was forced to sit down at the piano in the corner of the room that I had been avoiding since my first class. I was talented but I didn't want anyone to think that I was showing off. Part of me wanted to call it a day, but I was a teacher and I was being paid to teach my class.

I sat down at the piano and opened the lid with a sigh. I could feel the eyes of the students on me. I hoped that her eyes were on me, but I had a feeling that they weren't.

I touched the keys and tried to forget that the room was filled with watching eyes and focused entirely on the melody. I lost myself in the music. I know that I looked a little silly when I played, but that just meant that I was really into what I was doing.

I finished the song and closed the lid, hoping to go straight back to the lecture, but was stopped by my class. I could deal with the clapping. I could deal with the hooting. I could even deal with the "Wow, Mr. Cullen"s that came from the back of the room. What I could not deal with however was her. She was looking at me, her brown eyes wide. She had a gentle smile on her face, she looked so peaceful. Then her eyes turned back to the notebook. She began scribbling furiously and I began the lecture from where I left off.

I didn't look up as my students left the class that day. I shuffled my papers and kept my head down, waiting to lock up the classroom. I didn't look up because she was always the last one to leave. Always.

The air by the desk was filled with the smell of freesia, then the door closed and I knew she had gone. She always smelled like freesia. I loved that smell. It reminded me of my birth mother before she died and I became a Cullen.

I moved to turn the light off and leave when I noticed something was out of place. The red notebook, her stupid red notebook was sitting on her desk. How had she forgotten it? I never saw her without it.

I picked up the book and turned it over in my hands. There was no name on the cover. I sighed. I would have to return it to her tomorrow.


They had given me an office. Well, it was more like a broom closet with a desk inside it. I only had the one class, but I was required to stay for office hours, so after my class I would sit behind my desk playing chess on my laptop.

The red notebook was teasing me. I had set it out on my desk so that I would not forget it. All I could do was stare at it. I wanted, needed to read it. I needed to know why she never looked at me.

Knowing that it was an invasion of her privacy I pulled the notebook towards myself and opened the cover.

I am in love, was written in delicate handwriting. Me, of all people. I had never thought that I would meet someone that I could possibly want to be with, but I've met him. I want him. I need him. But I can't have him

Well that was it. She was in love with somebody. I felt my heart crash. That was what I got for snooping. I turned the page, another passage jumped out at me.

Listening to him talk is the most hypnotic thing that I've ever heard. His voice is like velvet. I wonder what it would be like to hear him sing. I would probably faint. I'm lucky enough to get to hear him talk every day. If I didn't have that I think that my life would lose all meaning.

She had written pages and pages of this stuff, but never her own name. I found it hard to read, I was jealous. I shouldn't have been. I was this girl's teacher. It was not allowed even of she did like me.

I turned to the last page with writing on it. I hadn't planned to read it, but at one point her handwriting suddenly became frantic.

OH MY GOD! He's walking over to the piano. Is he really going to play? I think I can die happy now. He's so amazing. His focus and passion. I'm melting. I had heard that he was a prodigy. I had never expected to see him play. That was the most beautiful sound that I could ever imagine. I never thought that music could sound that way. He has so much passion for it; I guess that's why it sounds so much better coming from him.

She was talking about me? I re-read the passage over and over again. How could she have been talking about me? She never showed the slightest interest in my class. I had figured that she had just needed the credits or something. She couldn't possibly have thought that way about me.

I closed the notebook and set it on top of my closed computer. Was it possible that this girl, this sweet beautiful angel might return my feelings?

There was a soft knock at my door. It must have been another teacher. No student had ever come to my office hours.

"Come in." I tried to look busy.

The door opened and the tiny room was filled with the smell of freesia. I froze, staring at my desk.

"Mr. Cullen?" She had a voice like bells.

I forced myself to look up at her and smile. "Yes?"

"Um, I left my—"

I picked up the notebook and handed it to her. "I thought you might want this back. You don't want to lose your notes." I didn't want her to think that I had read it.

I handed her the book. She looked slightly disappointed by my statement.

"Well, thanks." She turned to leave. I had to stop her. There was no way I was going to let her go that easily.

"You seemed particularly moved in class today. Why was that?"

She turned back to me and smiled. "Clair de Lune is my favorite song. My mother always had classical music on at home. I haven't heard that song since coming here. I hadn't realized how much I missed it."

"Forgive me, but I don't know your name."


I frowned. I had memorized the names on the roll sheet, desperately wondering which was hers. There was no Bella.

"Isabella Swan."

Ah. That name was on the roll sheet.

"I don't like Isabella," she shrugged, "but its easier than training the teachers. I didn't expect you to know it anyway." She blushed slightly.

Silence filled my office. I tried to think of anything to say to the girl, anything besides 'I love you,' that is.

"Well, I should go. Thank you sir."

"Please don't call me sir."

"Sorry, Mr. Cullen."

"Bella," I loved the way her name felt as I said it, "I'm only a few years older than you are. Last year I was a student, just like you. Please call me Edward."

She nodded, a smile on her perfect lips. "Edward. See you tomorrow in class."

"Yes, tomorrow."


She still didn't look at me that whole class. Her pencil barely moved, but she wouldn't look up. I growled. At the end of class she walked up to the door at the top of the stairs instead of passing by the teacher's desk as she usually did.

I had wanted to watch her leave. The notebook was in the center of her desk again. It didn't make sense. "Bella," I said, stopping her before she reached the door. "You left your notebook again."

She paused and looked her desk, and then she looked at me and smiled coyly. "Yes, I did. See you tomorrow."

Before the door had shut completely behind her I was across the room and had the book in my hands. I flipped to the last page with words written on it.

I'm in love with you Edward. Can't you see that? Was all that she had written today.

I felt so much joy that I had to resist the urge to dance around the classroom. But then I remembered the rules. I was not allowed to date one of my students. Why did she have to be in my class?


She breezed past my desk into the classroom. I held out her notebook to her. She smiled and took it from me. I didn't speak. She frowned slightly and turned to walk to her desk.

"Bella," I stopped her. "We can't. You're my student. We can't."

"I could drop the class," she said quietly, her eyes wide.

"Bella, you have the highest grade in the class and you don't even pay attention."

She made a face. "I pay attention."

"You don't pay attention to the lectures. I can't let you just drop the class. We can't."

She turned and walked to her desk. "I can wait until I'm not your student anymore."

I was about to respond but at that moment another student came in the door effectively ending the conversation.

She continues to write throughout the lecture. She still refused to look at me. I couldn't understand it. I felt like, in fact I knew, that she was the only student I even looked at. All I wanted to do was look at her, why didn't she want to look at me?

She just wrote. I knew that she was writing about me, but I'd rather she looked at me. I wanted to meet her eyes. I wanted…I wanted things that I couldn't have.

Out of frustration I dismissed the class early. She packed up at her usual speed. She moved past my desk. I tired to ignore her as she ignored me. There was a thump and the notebook landed on the podium next to the computer.

"See you tomorrow," she called over her shoulder just as the door closed.

I had managed to restrain myself until I got home that evening. Once back in my apartment I took the time to carefully read each page. I memorized the loops in her handwriting. I laughed at the small designs and patterns that decorated the margins.

The one thing that got a little tedious was the constant descriptions of my face. How does she even know what I look like? I thought bitterly. She never even looks at me. I was not interested in hearing about myself. I wanted learn about her. There was only so much I could gain from her writing.

That days entry, the last page with writing, had a different tenor.

I wish I knew more about you, she wrote. All I know is that you just graduated and that this is your first class. I couldn't believe it by listening to your lectures, but you really don't look anywhere near old enough to be a college teacher. You can't imagine how frustrating it is to only know your name. I begged to differ. I feel like I'm in love with you, but I barley know you. Is it possible to love someone you don't know? Oh God I hoped so. You must have read all of this and think that I am some sort of simpering idiot. A schoolgirl with a crush. I'm not. I promise. If I was I would have the decency to leave you alone. I should leave you alone. I'm just some girl. I'm not worth your attention. Were you just being nice this morning? Trying to let me down easy? If so, I understand. Just say it and I will leave you alone. I promise.

I nearly jumped out of my seat. I had to find a pen. As if I was running out of time I frantically searched for something to write with so that she would not think that I didn't want her. I had to stop myself, slow down enough to remember that I didn't have to give this back to her until tomorrow.

Take your time, I thought. And don't sound desperate.

Bella, I wrote, how could you possibly think that I am not interested in you? To be honest you captivated my attention the minuet you walked into the classroom. I've been obsessed with you from the beginning. You can't believe how I feel to know that you feel the same way. Don't let my distancing myself put you off. If you really want to pursue a relationship with me once class had ended then I need to keep my distance now. Do not feel silly either. I felt silly to. But the fact that we both feel the same way is out of our control and obviously means something. I fear my feelings for you, Bella, and I don't know how long I can last before I give in. I do understand your frustration not knowing anything about me, I feel the same way about you. This is all so strange to me.

I decided to leave it at that. I really didn't know what else to say to her. I felt nervous before class. Part of me wanted to rip out the page and just tell her everything, but a lack of contact between the two of us was going to be essential in order to last till the end of the semester.

Another part of me didn't want to give the book back, not right away at least. If I didn't give it to her then maybe she would look at me for once. Then I got an idea.


She sat down in her seat, not taking any notice to the book placed in the center of her desk. She just sat down and read, per usual. I began the class and she very timidly opened the notebook. I had started the class by playing a song specifically so I could watch her reaction to my words uninterrupted.

My stomach turned over as her face filled with relief and excitement. She was glowing. I watched as her eyes traced my last sentence. She paused, bit her lip, then, with a twinkle in her eye, began to write.

It had been a good thing that I had decided not to read her response until I got home. I flipped the notebook open, finding my own handwriting and the final sentence that I had added moments before she entered the room.

How come you never look at me?

It had been a simple question, with, what I had assumed would be a simple answer. Apparently it wasn't.

I'm relieved to see that you feel the same way. I was worried that I was bothering you. Why do you even have to ask if I would want to pursue a relationship after this class is over? I would drop the class today if you let me.

Why do I never look at you? I simply can't. I don't think I could handle looking at you. The sound of your voice excites me to no end. Your proximity makes me shake.

How could I begin to look at you? From the moment I walk into the classroom I feel as though I am made up of hot coals. If I look at you I believe that I will actually catch on fire. When you speak I am forced to shift in my seat to hide my excitement. If I forced myself to meet your eyes I don't think that I would be able to restrain myself from touching myself.

I gulped. Had she actually just written that? The sound of my voice aroused her? She couldn't look at me because she wouldn't be able to stop herself.

This was an area that I was not familiar with. In high school and college I had been too focused on my studies to ever notice any girls. I knew that plenty of them noticed me, but I never had the time nor did I really care. Then the first girl I even have feelings for not only notices me, but is turned on by the sound of my voice? What did I do to deserve this?

All I ever do is think about you, Edward. Not just in this class, but in every class that I go to. You are all that I can think about. At night I dream about you. You are all I can focus on. When I brush my hair out of my face I pretend that it's your hands and not mine. When I go to sleep at night I dream about you and me together. You have consumed me.

I sighed. I wasn't really sure if I could last till the end of the semester.


We went on like that for several weeks. We never spoke to one another, just wrote. We got to know each other through the notebook. She now knew about most of my life, and I hers. More than anything, though, she liked to tease me. Sometimes she would switch topics and her words would suddenly become sultry. She wrote things down that made it hard for me to look at her in class without wanting to do something very stupid. I was in love with a girl I had only spoken to twice in my life.

My sister Alice and her fiancé Jasper had come to visit me. Alice and I had always been close, but this trip she had been annoying me.

"Something is different about you Edward. Something big is about to happen to you, I can feel it."

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, Alice. We all know that you are psychic."

"Well," Jasper swooped in to defend her. "You are radiating happiness. Normally you go around with a storm cloud over your head, Edward. It's refreshing to not have to suffer one of your bad moods."

"You're in love," Alice said, suddenly.

"Alice, no."

"You are!" she squeaked. "I can tell. Don't worry everything will work out perfectly," she paused, "eventually. What's keeping you two apart?"

I turned my back to my sister in another failed attempt to ignore her. "Nothing."

"She's one of your students."

"Alice." My sister noticed the threatening tone in my voice and simply let it go. I should have guessed that it wouldn't have been that simple.


I was bored, and I was lecturing. Two thirds of the way through the semester is when the students always start to become more apathetic. There were several empty seats today, though luckily Bella's was not one of them.

My only saving grace for that day was getting to watch her scribble in that book, knowing that later I would be able to take in more of her thoughts.

I was mid sentence when the door to my classroom opened. I stood there with my mouth hanging open as Alice danced into the room.

"Hey, brother. I was hoping that I could sit in on a class?"

I glared at her. I knew her plan. Part of me wanted to turn her out, but I knew that she wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.

"Class," said through my clenched teeth, "this is my pesky little sister. She is visiting me from out of town. I guess she's going to watch the class today. Alice," I tried not to growl her name, "if you must, then please take a seat so I can get back to work."

Alice smirked at me, then turned to take in the classroom. I knew she was searching, and I hoped that she wouldn't find what she was looking for. To my distress she skipped over to the empty seat next to Bella. How did she always know? Bella was looking at my sister in awe.

"Hi," Alice said quietly. "I'm Alice. Is it okay if I sit here?"

"Sure," Alice took the empty seat. "I'm Bella."

"Bella," Alice repeated, smirking at me while I tired to regain my composure. "What a beautiful name."

I tried not to hate my sister while she sat next to the girl of my dreams. I grumbled slightly as the students rushed out of my class at the end of the hour. Alice stayed next to Bella and watched her pack up. The pair sauntered over to my desk and paused. Alice seemed to block the doorway, as if she was trying to keep Bella there.

"I guess you have office hours now huh?" she asked. I nodded. "Well I don't want to sit around by myself and wait for you," she whined. I knew my sister well; Alice was a very good actress.

"I don't have class," Bella beamed at my sister. "You can hang out with me until Edward is off."

Alice shot me a look when Bella said my name. Bella smiled at me and didn't even attempt to be subtle as she placed the notebook in my hands. This was getting weird.

"You don't mind?" Alice asked.

"No, not at all."

Alice smiled at her and led her out the door. "We are going to be good friends, I can tell."


Back in my apartment I resisted the urge to strangle Alice.

"Why did you have to do that? Why must you interfere with everything I do?"

"Because you're my brother," she grinned, "and besides, I'm helping you out."

"How on Earth does that help?"

"Edward, calm down." Jasper placed a hand on my shoulder and I steadied myself.

"Just so you know," I said to him, "the only reason I'm not killing her at the moment is because I know that you kinda like her."


"Edward, really I'm helping. This will work."

"You have thirty seconds to explain to me how this helps."

"You can't date her because she's a student, right? And even once she isn't people are still not going to like it. Well, instead of your plan of there suddenly being a relationship once class has ended, I've given you an excuse. She's my friend. You got to know her. Bada bing! Less mess."

I wanted to answer, say anything, and find some kind of flaw in my sister's plan. I knew there had to be at least one. My rage kept me silent, though. Instead I just stalked off into my room with Bella's notebook where I intended to spend the whole night sulking.


"I hate you so much right now." Alice had been pushing my buttons all week, but tonight she was going to die.

It was her last night here before she and Jasper had to head back home to plan the wedding. The last night, which meant that she wouldn't be spending any more afternoons getting to know Bella. But then she sprang this on me.

On Alice's last night here she decided to invite Bella over, to say goodbye and thanks for being a friend for the week. Now Bella, my Bella, was coming over to my apartment.

Both Jasper and I would be shocked if I didn't managed to tear pieces out of Alice before the night was over.

"No, you love me so much that you just think you hate me," Alice sang as she danced around my apartment, cleaning.

"That doesn't even, make sense!" I growled, ready to grab her the next time she danced past me, not that I was sure of what I would do with her if I actually managed to catch her.

"Calm down, Edward," Jasper said for the millionth time that week. "I'm getting tense just being around you. I could feel you all the way in the kitchen."

Alice skipped over to Jasper and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. "He just doesn't want to admit that this is going to work. I can feel it!" Alice squeaked. "Ooh! Here she comes!"

I gave her an exasperated look. "How do you kn—?" The doorbell rang. I stared at my sister for a moment, expectantly. "Well, aren't you going to get it?"

"No," she responded bluntly.

"She's your guest," I hissed through my teeth. I was seething.

Alice smirked at me. "But it's your apartment. Go," she waved me out of the room, "get the door. And take your time!" she shouted after me.

I took two deep breaths and opened the door. Bella stood on the other side looking nervous. The moment my eyes met hers all of my anger and frustration from my sister melted away. For a moment I even forgot that Alice even existed. Bella was here to see me.

"Hi," I managed to stutter out.

"Hi," she blushed.

I stared at her for a moment, and then remembered that she was still outside. "Oh, right, come in." I moved away from the door to allow her access to my home. She blushed and walked past me, filling the hallway with the smell of freesia and cold night air. I offered to take her coat, and then nearly choked as I pulled it off when I took in the dress she was wearing underneath it.

It was dark blue, making her pale skin glow in the soft light of the hallway. The dress was cut in a way to just be modest enough that I could imagine Bella wearing it, but just revealing enough that I knew it wasn't her idea.

"You look lovely," I murmured.

"Oh," she blushed again and looked down at the dress. "Alice picked it out." Of course. "Your sister is something else."

"That's a way to describe her, I guess." Recently I tended to use more swear words when describing my sister.

I guided her into the living room. "I love your apartment."

I glanced around the room. Mostly everything was dark. There were several filled up bookshelves in the corner and an old upright piano opposite the front window. Bella ran her hands over the lid of the piano, looking at it longingly.

"Do you play?" I asked.

She shook her head and lifted the lid. She gently let her fingers trail across the keys, only making the lightest sound on the highest pitch possible. "It's very beautiful."

"It's a poor substitute," I said off handedly. "I miss my grand piano, but my apartment is too small. It's still at home."

Bella had closed the lid of the piano and was now examining the family portrait that sat on the top. "Is this your family?" she asked, brushing her fingers across the delicate pattern of the silver frame.

"Yes," I managed, too caught up in the path of her fingers to notice anything else.

"There's you and Alice," Bella prompted me.

"Yes, and that's our brother Emmett."

"He was adopted like you?"

"We're all adopted. Esme can't have children. That's here there, and that's Carlisle, my father."

"So Esme is actually your aunt."

"Yes," I was glad she remembered.

"These are the twins?"

"Yes, Carlisle's niece and nephew."

"So that's the famous Jasper," she smiled at me.

I opened my mouth to respond but Alice's laughter of tolling bells announced to me that we were about to be interrupted.


"I had a really nice time tonight," Bella was standing in the entrance hall, putting on her coat. I could tell that Alice was attempting to come up with some reason for Bella to stay, but I also knew as well as she did that none was possible. "It was very nice to meet you, Jasper." Jasper smiled at Bella and nodded. "Alice, you will call me, right?"

"Of course," my tiny sister bounced into Bella's arms.

"Maybe we can see each other the next time you come to visit Edward."

Alice rolled her eyes. "Oh, trust me Bella, we will be seeing each other a lot sooner than that."

I tried to control my growl. I was becoming well aware of the fact that Alice believed that she had finally found her last bridesmaid.

"Goodnight," Alice squeaked, leaving the two of us alone together.

"Edward?" Bella looked up at me, her eyes alight with fire. I did not respond to her, merely reached out and ran my fingers gently down the side of her face. She leaned her head gently into my palm and sighed.

"Four more weeks," I muttered.

"Four more weeks."


"So class, your final is next Wednesday at noon. Please try not to forget any materials that you may need, such as pencils or your brains." I got a few laughs from the students. "If you have any questions for me about your grade then you must ask me before Friday and five o'clock. That's when I turn in your grades. After five o'clock on Friday I am not longer your teacher," I looked at Bella longingly and she responded with a look filled with passionate excitement. "So don't come whining to me after that."

The class tittered once again, more for my benefit than their own, and all got up to leave. I smiled to myself as I packed my things away. A cloud of freesia surrounded me and I was able to look into my beautiful Bella's eyes.

Her face was flushed and she smiled at me. "See you on Wednesday, then."

"Wednesday," was all I was able to reply.


The clock hands in my office ticked by at an uncontrollably slow rate. It was four thirty on Friday afternoon. I my grades had been done for hours. I had checked and re checked them again and again. They were sitting in an email to the administration on my laptop. All I had to do was press 'send' and it would be over.

I clicked the button and held my breath. The message sent and that was it. I waited. I looked blankly at the screen. I had told Bella five o'clock. I could not expect anything before that.

Several games of computer chess later I looked up at the clock. Five minuets after five. I looked longingly at the door. Was she going to come?

I tapped my fingers uneasily on the table. I checked my email. I sighed in relief when I saw that there was a message in my inbox. It was from Bella. The message contained nothing more than an address. I threw my things together and locked my office door for the last time.

I did not recognize the street name that she had given me, which concerned me. Once at my car I realized that it was not a street name, but a dorm name. She lived on campus.

I threw my laptop into the backseat of my car and turned right around, heading back to the school.

She lived at the top floor or her building. The hallways were mostly empty. Finals had finished on Thursday and most kids had already headed home for the holidays. Bella must have been going home tomorrow.

Her dorm room door was closed. I knocked on it gently, trying my best to not be to eager. The door was swung open and Bella's brown eyes met mine.

She stood back and I silently walked into her room. The room seemed fairly neat, on half was decorated in various shades of pinks and purples. Pictures of girl I did not recognize with her friends lined the walls. The other half of the room was subtler. Bella didn't have a lot of things with her. She didn't have any pictures aside from once shot of her with a young woman whom I assumed was Bella's mother.

"Jessica left yesterday," Bella said offhandedly.

I nodded. I couldn't think of anything to say so I kissed her.

Kissing Bella was the single most amazing experience of my young life. I had never kissed a girl before and was relieved to find out that I liked it. Bella went limp in my arms, putting my reflexes to the test. I managed to catch her and she wrapped her arms around my neck in an effort to hold herself up.

I pulled away to look at her. After all these weeks I finally had her in my arms. After years and years of being alone I had finally met a girl that felt right.

Bella leaned her head into my chest and sighed. Her hair felt like silk as it slipped through my fingers. Her small delicate frame fit perfectly against me. I was in heaven.

I felt her smile against my chest. "What?" I asked her.

"I just—I never imagined that this would work out. It was so hard for me to believe that this hasn't been going on in my head. I've spent the last three days terrified that you were not going to come."

"How could I not," I muttered into her hair, "when the girl of my dreams was waiting for me." I forced her to look up at me. Her chocolate eyes sparkled at me. "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else but here."

I leaned my chin on her head. I was content to stand like this, holding her close in my arms, until we both died of starvation.

"What are we going to do with that?" she asked me.

I followed her gaze to her bed. On it lay the red notebook, open to the last pages of our conversation. I looked at the notebook that I once despised so much. That stupid bundle of paper that, in my mind, kept her from me.

"I was thinking that we could get it laminated," I mused. "I want to keep it forever."

Her sweet musical laughed joined mine joined mine, creating the most beautiful harmony that I had ever heard.

This is the first thing that I've ever written that I've allowed other people to read. I hope somebody likes it.