* This is an outtake written for Fandom Fights the Floods. With their approval, I am now free to post for your enjoyment *

Fandom: Twilight

Rating: M

Warning: This is just a little citrusy ;)

Summary: Tingles and her notebook filled his thoughts compulsively.

A/N: This is the EPOV of my "Beautiful Edward" contest entry entitled "My Masterpiece".

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Characters are all Stephenie Meyers' creations. I just enjoy twisting their stories.

Smooches to CorrinaTFF for betaing this little baby for me & Gabbysway2 for pre-reading

~ 0 ~

It was Thursday…that meant I would hopefully see Tingles. I tried not to make it a habit to know the comings and goings of customers, but sometimes it was too hard not to notice. Like the first time she had stumbled—and I do mean stumbled—into my father's club, Midnight Sun. It was impossible not to notice her; a perfect creation of warm brown eyes that blinked gently from a soft, pale face. Her hair fell like a river around her shoulders, curling loosely at the very ends. She looked so impossibly fragile, and yet an inner strength shone from within.

That first evening, I'd gone against everything my father had ever taught me—and against the policies of the club—and given her a free drink. From the moment she emerged from the staircase, she looked like she needed one. Her pretty face was drawn and tight, and I could see the stress practically rolling off her as she limped toward the bar painfully slowly.

I made her a Fruit Tingle, something easy to put together, and my sister Alice's go-to drink when she was having a bad day. Because of how many I had made, it was a cocktail I could put together with my eyes shut—which was important because my eyes refused to budge from the picture of perfection in front of me.

She stopped in front of me and rested her hands lightly on the bar. She stared at me blankly, as if she had lost all capacity for thought.

I wanted to ask what was causing such a beautiful girl so much stress, but I knew it went against the non-fraternisation policy my father insisted on. Our little bar was famous for having quiet, discreet bartenders who didn't ask questions, and I was already pressing the issue with the free drink.

"On the house," I offered with a smile. As I pushed it toward her, I took the opportunity to brush my fingers across her skin, curious as to whether it could possibly be anywhere near as smooth as it looked. It wasn't…it was smoother. I wondered if she felt the small jolt that jumped from my fingertip to her skin.

Something certainly roused her because she shook her head and slid the drink back toward me. "I can't."

"I insist," I said, amused by the way she backed away as if I were some crazy stalker.

She stopped but shook her head ever so slightly.

I couldn't believe she was turning down a free drink, but then I realised she was probably just being cautious, so I shrugged. "Well, if you really don't want it..." I grabbed the glass and brought the straw to my mouth. I took a deep drink to show her that it was wasn't spiked or anything.

I don't know what happened next, but she was suddenly crying out in pain and falling to the floor. Instinct took over, and I knew I needed to get to her as quickly as I could. I put the glass down on the counter before pushing myself over the bar. I was lucky nothing smashed as my feet skimmed the tops of the bottles of booze by the post-mix machine.

I reached her in an instant and scooped her into my arms without thinking it through any further. I lifted her onto one of the barstools and took in her now even paler appearance. I wondered whether she was going to go into shock, so I pushed the drink toward her to encourage her to get some sugar into her.

She drank deeply. The sight of her lips surrounding the straw and her cheeks hollowing out as she sucked hard on it had immediate reactions on my body. I tried as hard as I could to turn away, but the sight was mesmerising.

"What is that?" she asked, her voice low and urgent.

I laughed nervously; she was making me blissfully uncomfortable. "It's a Fruit Tingle. They were always my sister's go-to drink." Using our proximity to my benefit, I leaned into her a little to see whether she smelled as good as I imagined she would. She didn't…she smelled better.

I ensured she remained at my station, giving her as many damn fruit tingles as she wanted throughout the night. I had intended to throw caution—and the non-fraternisation policy—to the wind and ask her out, but before I had the chance to build up the courage, she had disappeared…and so had my favourite pen.

I was devastated when I'd realised she'd left, and I hadn't even had the chance to say goodbye, or ask for her phone number. I was certain I would never see her again, and that thought was the most depressing one of my life.

To make matters worse, my father demanded a meeting with me after my shift. Apparently he'd been watching in the office when I'd done my bar gymnastics and said while he was happy I had helped out a customer in need, he hoped I would be a bit more careful and discreet in my future dealings. He'd lectured using the multi-visual aid of the security tapes of the event. As I watched her on screen, his voice faded out, and I became transfixed by her beauty , feeling a renewed sense of loss wash over me.

After promising to perform within company guidelines, I left my father's office with a sorrowful heart—and the original videotape of my beautiful girl. I had no idea what her name was, just the way she made me feel. My body sung for her, all the hairs on the back of my arm stood at attention—they definitely weren't the only things that were erect—and I felt like I was getting a series of mild, and pleasant, electric shocks. I had nicknamed her after that feeling; so from that day forth, she was Tingles.

Despite my fear that I would never see her again, Tingles returned the next Thursday, and every Thursday after that. She had returned on exactly twenty-nine different Thursdays, always finding a spot in the section I was tending. At first, I worked the front section and had naturally assumed she just liked that spot. But then, a few weeks later I was moved to the back—apparently my father was aware of my less than gentlemanly urges when it came to Tingles—and she dutifully took a seat on the last stool in my section.

It suited me perfectly to have her in that position. She was far enough away that I could concentrate for brief periods of time—long enough to serve the other customers—and she wouldn't notice me glancing surreptitiously in her direction, but close enough that she was still mine—or at least seated in my section.

Each Thursday for the past twenty-nine weeks, I had snuck into my father's office and stolen the security video of my section. I convinced myself that I'd taken the tapes purely because I wanted to see whether they would reveal any secrets about what she scribbled madly into her little book each week, but I knew it was more than that.

I knew because I had watched the videos repeatedly, and eventually edited them all into one collection of 'favourites'; her drinking deeply from her straw, her brow furrowed as she concentrated hard on her doodling, her shaking her hair out or running her fingers across her cheek. I had made the video with entirely innocent intentions, but I soon found myself using it to fuel my fantasies. No matter how much I tried to force it out of my head, the soft curves of her cleavage hidden by nothing more than a thin layer of material invaded my thoughts and her smile held my dreams captive.

After a few viewings, I began to use the video for more nefarious purposes. It had felt so wrong—but oh so right—the first time my hand had begun exploring my body while watching her lips do wicked things with her drinks.

My fingers had made light work of the fastenings on my jeans and pushed them down to my ankles along with my boxers. As the video moved onto her smiles, I clasped my erect cock tightly, working my fingers over the engorged head and down toward the base.

I imagined my name on her perfect pout as I slid my fingers up again. The video showed a blush that gently crept over her face, and I pictured that image beneath me in bed. I groaned and tightened my hand around myself, running from base to tip and back again, watching Tingles on the video. Her fingers began to caress a glass, running from rim to the base; I mimicked her movement pretending her fingers were tracing like that over my chest, teasing me playfully as she straddled my hips.

I tipped my head back and groaned as desire overtook me with the images of Tingles playing in my mind. I worked myself harder and faster before tipping my head forward and searching for her eyes on my computer. I met them just as I spilled my seed over my hand and thigh with a prolonged groan.

The pictures of Tingles repeatedly flashed across my mind as I cleaned myself up. I realised that I wasn't going to be able to get her out of my head until I was able to take her…on a date at the very least. But I also knew I wouldn't be able to take her out as long as I worked at Midnight Sun. I made the decision then and there that I needed to find a new career.

"Dad," I greeted after he picked up his phone—I was too much of a coward to tell him face to face.

"Edward, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I need to take some time off."

"Okay, I'll get the roster," he said smoothly. "Now, how much time do you need?"

"I mean, I need to take an extended amount of time off…at least a good few months…if I come back at all."

"Oh. I see." His voice was filled with surprise over my decision.

"I'll work my shift tonight though," I said. I wasn't going to miss that for the world, I just hoped Tingles would be true to form and turn up. Otherwise, my quitting would be pointless.

I prepared for work as usual, although maybe I took a little more time getting dressed up than normal. I knew my shift was going to be my first, last, and only chance to get her phone number—unless I became a crazy stalker. Although where Tingles was concerned, that wasn't necessarily a bad idea.

~ 0 ~

She took her usual seat, and I made her usual drink. I wanted to talk to her some more, but she pulled out her book and started scribbling away, effectively ending any potential conversation.

I had given her a second drink, and she had smiled politely before dipping her head right back down to her drawing.

Between her inattention and how unusually busy the bar had been, every opportunity I might have otherwise had during the night was squandered away. I felt my frustration growing until, at the very end of the shift, fate gave me the perfect moment. The bar was emptying rapidly, but Tingles was still lost in her scribbling.

"Earth to Tingles," I said, trying to get her attention.

She started and stared up at me with those beautiful doe-brown eyes. They widened and she looked slightly like a deer trapped in headlights. She quickly scooted closer to the bar, in what I was sure was supposed to be a stealth manoeuvre. Her beautiful blush crept slowly up her cheeks and down into her cleavage. I desperately wanted to know just how far down it went.

"Sorry," she muttered.

I shrugged. "It's okay. I live to be ignored by people unless they want something." I would be ignored by you until the end of time if it meant being close to you.

She gasped quietly, and I had to stifle a chuckle. She was always so skittish, but instead of being annoying it somehow added to her charm. I leaned toward her, resting my elbows on the bar.

She glanced around surreptitiously. "Quiet night?" she asked.

I grinned, she really hadn't been paying attention—she'd been sitting in the seat for hours. "Closing time," I chuckled.

Her face fell suddenly, and she looked distraught. "Oh shit, I'd better go," she stammered, pushing everything in front of her into her bag.

I reached out grabbing her arm and clutching it lightly, terrified that she would rush out and my chance would be lost. "Wait!" I almost shouted.

She turned back toward me, confusion written on her features. She looked down and I followed her gaze to my hand where it connected with her arm.

I knew the polite thing would be to let go, but I couldn't. My brain refused to listen to the polite part anymore—especially after experiencing the tingles running through my fingers wherever our skin met.

"I was just wondering..." I started before realising I sounded like a tool. "Wait... what I mean is..." I glanced up at her, my voice leaving me completely once I saw the look on her face. It was trepidation mixed with elation. I had no idea what caused it, but I wanted to see it again and again. Her eyes held me captive until finally, she turned them down to look at something else and my voice returned.

"Can I have your number?" I blurted out before my voice failed again.

She blinked at me and I was completely stunned.

I knew I needed to explain myself if I wanted any chance of gaining my prize—her digits. "I'm not supposed to do this," I blathered. "If I wasn't already leaving, I would probably lose my job over it. There are strict 'fraternisation with customers' rules you see?"

She shook her head and my world ended. I wanted to laugh at myself for thinking that she could possibly be interested in me, but even that seemed too difficult a gesture for my aching heart. She looked panicked, as though I had scared her off…and now she probably thought I was crazy to boot.

"I understand," I murmured, dropping my hand from her arm—the delicious electricity turning into a nasty burn now that I knew I would never experience it again.

To my surprise, she pulled out a pen—that looked a lot like my old favourite pen—and wrote something down on a napkin. I glanced at it quickly and saw that it was a name and a phone number. I just hoped they were hers.

"Bella," I read, trying out what I hoped was her name for the first time, instantly recognising its meaning in Italian. "Beautiful," I murmured to myself. It seemed perfectly appropriate, so appropriate in fact, that it could have been a cruel joke. I took a chance and extended my hand toward her. "I'm Edward."

"It's lovely to meet you, Edward," she said my name in such a delicious fashion. I wanted to hear what it would sound like when she screamed it.

She smiled at me beautifully. "I look forward to your call."

I watched her ass as she moved toward the stairs. "I look forward to calling," I murmured quietly before turning to retrieve one last video tape.

~ 0 ~

I wanted to call her as soon as my shift was finished, but I knew 2 a.m. was an unreasonable time to call anyone-especially if that anyone was a loose acquaintance met through work that I hoped to date. I knew the 'money' thing to do was wait three days before calling her–I had seen swingers after all—but I couldn't wait that long. Her phone number was burning a hole in my nightstand, and I wasn't sure I could wait until I woke-even though I knew I had to. I put the napkin on top of my cell phone, ready to call as soon as I woke. I kept such odd hours that she was sure to be wide awake by then.

~ 0 ~

My alarm blared to life and my hand shot out instinctively to silence it. I banged on the nightstand a few times to find it, pushing everything out of the way to get it. I snoozed it quickly and settled in for a few moments of stolen sleep.

When it went off the second time, I reluctantly returned to the land of the living—or at least the awake. I'd been having such wonderful dreams about Tingles—Bella—and I wasn't willing to leave them yet. Until I realised that I had her number and could call her.

I reached over to rescue the napkin from my nightstand, but it wasn't there. My heart fell as I remembered the paper towel I had pushed out of the way to snooze the alarm on my phone. I searched the floor anxiously, turning over all the dirty clothes and bed sheets that had spilled onto the floor during the night. I couldn't find it anywhere. I couldn't believe that I had gone so far as to get her number, only to lose it before I called her. My panic grew and I wanted to kick my own ass for not immediately programming the number into my phone. I pulled my furniture away from the walls piece by piece until I found the little scrap of paper, which had managed to become wedged between the solid wood headboard and the wall.

I unfolded the little note and almost cried when I realised the writing had been smudged. The second to last number could have been a six or an eight, and the last number could have been a three, a five or possibly even another eight. That gave me six possible combinations to try. I sighed before pulling out my mobile and starting with the first possibility.

Finally, on my fourth attempt—just when I was thinking that maybe she had given me the wrong number after all—I found her. I knew instantly it was her when I heard her angelic voice.

"Yes?" she snapped.

"Umm, Bella?" I asked, worried I had caught her at a bad time, but that slipped immediately away when I heard her next word.


I almost groaned at the way she said my name. She somehow managed to infuse so much sex appeal into those two syllables.

"Sorry... you caught me in the middle of something." She sounded distracted, and I wondered whether she regretted giving me her number.

I decided to just come out with it. I took a deep breath and blurted, "I was wondering if you'd like to catch up this afternoon?"


I was seriously beginning to think she didn't want to meet up with me after all. But I was relieved she hadn't denied me flat out. I blew out a small sigh of relief, and offered her an alternative just in case she really didn't want to date me. "Well...seeing as though you know where Midnight Sun is, why don't we meet up there and find something to do from there? Maybe we can grab a cup of coffee?"

I waited for her response.

And waited.


"Bella, are you still there?"

"Yeah," she answered but sounded distracted, and then I heard a series of small bangs.

"Would it be better if I called you back?" I asked, seriously wondering what was going on at her house.

"No, now's perfect. Coffee's perfect. Everything sounds..."

"Perfect?" I ventured, hopeful.

I pinned down a time before hanging up and giving a little fist pump that I managed to get a date with Tingles—my own personal movie star.

With that thought, I added the latest video to my highlights reel. That blush creeping across her chest just made my heart melt. I got a little bit distracted with my editing and ended up running late for our little date. I showered, dressed, and left my house as quickly as I could, knowing there was absolutely no chance of making it to our designated meeting place on time.

I was walking past a florist when I saw some bright flowers in the front window. They instantly reminded me of Tingles—Bella—and I knew I needed to get some. I threw over my credit card and demanded a bouquet of them. I hoped they would be enough to win back her affection, if it wasn't already too late—if I wasn't.

~ 0 ~

As it turned out, I wasn't too late. Bella was waiting for me, and thankfully the flowers went over an absolute treat. Despite my concerns that Bella didn't really want to be out on a date with me, the afternoon quickly morphed into a long and interesting night together. We ended up at Midnight Sun for a few drinks—my father cocking his eyebrow at me from the corner. I was fully aware how the situation appeared; I had no doubt he thought I was leaving purely so I could chase a little tail. Which was technically correct, but it was an over simplification of the truth. I wanted Bella—so badly—but I wasn't after her just for her looks; I wanted to crack the enigma of her mind as well. What was so important to her that she scribbled all night long each Thursday? Was she an artist or a writer, or something else entirely? And, just how far down did that scarlet blush travel?

After Midnight Sun started to close, I led her upstairs and was just about to ask her for a repeat performance on another night when she invited me back to her place. My entire body leapt at the chance, my cock already straining against my pants, but my mind wanted her to be more than just a one night thing. She was the sort of girl one dated a few times first. At the risk of sounding too cliché, she was the kind of girl you took home to meet your mother.

She seemed utterly despondent when I told her no.

"Bella, I've had a great time today," I tried to assure her. "I just don't want to ruin what-"

She cut me off by pressing her lips to mine, silencing my mind's arguments as my body took complete control. Her lips were soft and smooth and melded with mine perfectly. She tasted like fruit tingles, and I knew I would never again be able to make the drink without becoming aroused. Her hands grasped at my hair, her nails gently trailing across my scalp. Every nerve-ending in my body sang at her touch and sounds escaped through our joined lips that I didn't think were possible.

"Please?" she begged her voice needful velvet and just sexy-as-fuck.

I was trapped and nodded before pulling her back to me. I needed to see if her lips tasted as good when caressed by my tongue. They didn't…they tasted better. My body ached for her desperately and my cock twitched as our tongues met for the first time.

She pulled away, and I almost sobbed for my loss, but then she grabbed my hand and practically ran away from Midnight Sun in the opposite direction of my apartment.

As we half-ran, half-walked toward her place, I traced my thumb along the contour of her hand. I could spend a lifetime studying her silk skin.

I glanced down on her repeatedly, still uncertain that the whole evening hadn't been a figment of my imagination, dreamt up by my subconscious to taunt me with what I could never really have. We said very little as we made our way through the darkened streets, stopping occasionally to kiss and caress. I realised I was a fool for even trying to turn away from her—what if this one night was all I had? I would have regretted not following her for the rest of my life.

We climbed the staircase in her apartment with hands on bodies and lips on skin. As she unlocked her door, I trailed kisses along the back of her neck. I couldn't get enough of her, and she seemed equally as eager to take all I had to give.

Before I could comprehend exactly how swiftly the evening would progress, I was lowering her onto her bed in just a matching set of lacy pink lingerie. She panted heavily as she watched me through lust-filled eyes.

"Are you sure, Bella?" I murmured, as I climbed onto her bed and ran my hands along her smooth skin, watching a pink tinge spread across her body.

She nodded, and I could have wept with joy.

I lifted her gently off the bed with one hand and used the other to unfasten her bra. I kissed her hard. I couldn't fathom a way to get my fill of her. I tossed her bra across the room before sighing in intense pleasure as my eyes raked over her beautiful body. I had never coveted anything more than her. I wanted her to be mine. I dipped my head and took one of her breasts into my mouth, moaning with delight at her perfect taste.

I planned to worship every inch of her, because that's what goddesses deserved.

She pulled back from me, and at first I thought she was having second thoughts, but her fingers tugged my hair closer to her body. She wanted me and that knowledge gave me a sexual prowess I would never have imagined I could possess.

I lavished her body with kisses and touches, running my fingers and tongue across every piece of bare skin available. Finally, I could ignore the beacon of her arousal no more. My fingertips trailed from her bellybutton to the band on her panties. I ground my teeth together to keep myself from crying out with pleasure as my fingers brushed against her warmth and wetness. She didn't restrain the groan that rose in her throat, and the sound made me want to pleasure her until I had heard every noise in her repertoire—and then until I had heard them all again.

"Oh, God!" she cried out as I tugged her panties off.

I smiled against her skin, knowing that she was more than ready for anything I could dish out. I trailed soft wet kisses across her stomach before licking slowly across her centre. I hummed as the taste of her danced on my tongue. She was everything I could have imagined and yet so much more. I swirled my tongue once around her clit.

"Jesus Christ!" she cried, wriggling back up the bed—my mouth never leaving her as I followed her slow progression. She panted so heavily I wondered whether she was beginning to hyperventilate.

I stilled my tongue and looked up her body, greeted by the sight of two perfect mounds begging for some attention of their own. The moment was so perfect that I couldn't help but smile when she raised her head and looked down at me. I chuckled softly as she threw her head back, grasping her headboard and mewling slightly..

I turned my attention back to her centre, running my tongue across her once more. I wanted to see her come undone for me—because of me—and I wanted to feel her. I pushed a finger deep inside her while kissing her clit fiercely with my tongue and lips. I was rewarded moments later with a loud cry, almost a scream, of pure pleasure. I felt her clench around my finger and kissed her through her orgasm. I was so entranced with the sounds and sensations of her that I barely noticed the cascade of material falling around me and over Bella. I wondered where the material had come from, quickly running through my memory. I recalled a large purple curtain behind her bed that I hadn't paid too much attention to because, well let's face it, who gives a shit about a curtain when a goddess is almost naked right in front of you.

I looked up at the spot the material had once covered, wondering whether there was a window or perhaps an unsightly mark on the wall. Instead I saw me. My eyes, my hands, my face. Me. Staring down at me from the wall. I blinked, uncomprehending.

My eyes flicked from me to Bella and back again. I didn't know where to start, so I asked the only question that arose to my lips. "Bella? Why do you have a painting of me on your wall?"

My eyes fell back to Bella, and she had that 'deer in headlights' look on her face again. I was stunned. Why? And why me? I turned back to the painting on the wall, and realised it was actually a damn fine likeness; not exactly like looking into a mirror, but it was clearly me.

My eyes darted between Bella and me again,and I realised it had been a few minutes since she'd said anything. I looked back at Bella once more, but this time I really looked at her and found out exactly how far the blush extended down her body.

"Oh my God," she whispered, humiliation burned into every syllable. She clutched the curtain tightly around herself as if trying to use it as a cloak of invisibility or something. She looked like she was close to tears, and all I wanted to do was comfort her—and laugh—and cry—and run—and hug her—and scream at her. I was still so stunned, I couldn't work out exactly what to do.

I sat on the bed, staring between the painting and Bella again and again. My mouth gaped open and shut, no words would escape me.

Bella moved around the room quickly, still burning red and issuing a near constant stream of profanities. I didn't realise what she was doing until she threw a handful of clothes at me.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, before turning away.

I pulled on my clothes quickly, my brain still not functioning correctly. It's not like it was an everyday occurrence to see my face staring down at me from a girl's bedroom wall, especially not a girl whom I had admired from a safe distance for over six months. I wasn't sure whether to run with fear or grab her and hold tight, knowing that she was obviously as crazy about me as I was about her.

The decision was swiftly taken out of my control, because the instant I was dressed, her hands pushed me gently, but forcefully, toward the door. I was in the hallway with the cool painted wood of her door pressed firmly against my nose before I fully realised what was happening.

I banged on it. "Bella!"

There was no response.

"Bella?" I banged on it again. Still no sounds issued from within.

I realised that I had just been thrown out by an obsessed, crazy, kooky, but absolutely fucking hot girl. I turned and leaned on her door for support while I tried to wrap my head around it. On the one hand, she had never appeared dangerous or crazy in the bar and even on our date she never did anything to indicate that she was crazily obsessed—she didn't know where I lived and had never waited outside to meet me in a darkened alley. But that mural wasn't an overnight thing. It had numerous pencil lines, partly erased and painted over. The eyes had at least five different shades of green dotted around them. It had been painstakingly agonized over. Clearly she had been trying to get the details just right and that demonstrated a certain level of obsession which I wasn't sure I was able to handle…except I had done the same thing.

After all, wasn't my video montage of Bella highlights exactly the same thing? Wasn't that an example of how her beauty had entranced me? Even as I closed my eyes, I could see parts of the highlights reel. I could see her lips pursing around her straw—and could imagine them doing the same thing around certain parts of myself. I knew the travelling distance of her blush, and wanted to see it pass across her skin with passion and lust again, not embarrassment. But I did want to see it again, which made my decision about what to do next obvious.

I left.

I practically ran to my house.

I was gasping for breath when I got there, but I knew it was quicker than waiting for a taxi so late at night. I charged straight through the rooms until I came to my study. I booted up my computer, tapping my fingers on the desk impatiently while I waited.

I found the file I wanted and burned it to a disc. I waited as the progress metre travelled ever so slowly from one side to the other. I hadn't realised the file was getting so big. The instant the disc was finished, I ejected it and slipped it into a protective casing and then ran from my house back into the cool night.

My lungs were on fire when I arrived at Bella's—I'd almost completely lost my breath around halfway back. I knocked quietly on her door, not wanting to wake her neighbours at such a ridiculous hour. There was every chance that she had gone back to bed or left entirely, but I pinned my hopes on the fact that she was mortally embarrassed and unable to sleep. When there was no response to my first knock, I knocked again, a little louder.

"Bella…it's me," I whispered against the door.

I was greeted by silence.

I placed my hand on the wood, hoping she was on the other side. "Tingles? Please!" I said a little louder.

"Go away!" came a muffled sob from within.


"Please? Just go away…" she sobbed a little louder.

"Not until you have seen what I want to show you," I demanded.

"What?" her voice was a little closer to the door.

"I have something that…that I think you should see." My heart was clenched into a tight fist at the thought of what I was doing. I was about to show her a whole lot more than I had ever planned to.

The door opened, but a chain was latched so I couldn't see her. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and stuck the DVD through her door. I felt that tug that indicated she had it and slipped my fingers back out to safety.

"I'm going to go again now," I said. "But please, promise me you'll watch that."

I heard a mumbled acceptance through the door.

Although I'd said I was leaving, I honestly couldn't tear myself away from her door. I had just handed over a piece of myself. But so much more than that, I had just put my father's club on the line. If she were so inclined, she would no doubt be able to take it to the police who might be interested in security footage being stolen and used in such a way. At the very least, she could leak the video to a newspaper which could quickly ruin Midnight Sun's discreet reputation.

I rested my hand on her door, imagining I could feel her through it. Please understand, I thought, even though I wasn't sure I understood. I sighed and then settled in for a long wait against her door.

~ 0 ~

Tingles invaded my dreams, the taste of her as I kissed her tenderly, the feel of her hair brushing against my bare skin and the red tinge of her skin as she'd blushed from head to…

My world fell in on me.

One second Tingles had been assaulting my every sense, and the next second I was on the floor looking straight up at her. My head fell between her feet and she screamed slightly in surprise. In my disorientation at being woken so harshly, I realised she had very shapely calves and great ankles. I wasn't sure how those details had escaped me before, probably because I'd been so fascinated with her top half.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked, bending down to help me up.

I scrunched my eyes and thought back to the previous night. What a night it had been! I sat up and asked the most burning question. "Did you watch it?"

She looked at me and then nodded. "It was me." Her eyes dropped from my eyes to my lips. "Why was it me?"

I raised my hand to cup her cheek. "I've been crazy about you since you first fell over in the bar."

Her eyes snapped back to mine. "Oh."

The little 'o' shape her mouth had formed was just perfect. I longed to kiss it, but I wasn't sure where we stood. "So, I guess we are both a little obsessed?" I asked, trying to bring up the mural but without making her run for the hills.

She bit her lip and blushed as she looked toward her bedroom door. "I guess so. You know, I just wanted you in my bedroom…anyway I could."

I smirked at her. "You know, all you had to do was ask."

She grinned. "Edward…would you like to come into my room?"

"Tingles, I would love to."

~ 0 ~

When we finally told our family of our unorthodox beginning, my father had been so impressed he'd asked to see a sample of Bella's work. She showed him her mural—which she'd since completed after having her model at hand whenever she desired. On the spot, he had commissioned her to redesign the walls of Midnight Sun.

I took my old job back—just so I could watch her work.

~ 0 ~

A/N:- I hope you enjoyed & his reaction was everything you hoped for ;) I'd love to hear what you thought.