“In my dream it was very dark, and what dim light there was seemed to be radiating from Edward's skin. I couldn't see his face, just his back as he walked away from me, leaving me in the blackness. No matter how fast I ran, I couldn't catch up to him; no matter how loud I called, he never turned. Troubled, I woke in the middle of the night and couldn't sleep again for what seemed like a very long time. After that, he was in my dreams nearly every night, but always on the periphery, never within reach.”

Stephenie Meyer
Time Dreams Positive

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“Edward stood, motionless as a statue, just a few feet from the mouth of the alley. His eyes were closed, the rings underneath them deep purple, his arms relaxed at his sides, his palms turned forward. His expression was very peaceful, like he was dreaming pleasant things. The marble skin of his chest was bare―there was a small pile of white fabric at his feet. The light reflecting from the pavement of the square gleamed dimly from his skin.I'd never seen anything more beautiful―even as I ran, gasping and screaming, I could appreciate that. And the last seven months meant nothing. And his words in the forest meant nothing. And it did not matter if he did not want me. I would never want anything but him, no matter how long I lived.”


“And Edward was staring at me curiously, that same, familiar edge of frustation even more distinct now in his black eyes.I stared back, surprised, expecting him to look quickly away. But instead he continued to gaze with probing intensity into my eyes. There was no question of me looking away. My hands started to shake."Mr. Cullen?" the teacher called, seeking the answer to a question that I haden't heard."The Krebs Circle," Edward answered, seeming relucant as he turned to look at Mr. Banner.I looked down at my book as soon as his eyes released me, trying to find my place. Cowardly as ever, I shifted my hair over my right shoulder to hide my face. I couldn't believe the rush of emotion pulsing through me - just because he'd happened to look at me for the first time in a half-dozen weeks. I couldn't allow him to have this level of influence over me. It was pathetic. More than pathetic, it was unhealthy.”


“That I wasn't mad at you. Can't you see that Bella?" He was suddenly intense, all trace of teasing gone. "Don't you understand?""See what?" I demanded, confused by his sudden mood swing as much as his words."I'm never angry with you - how could it be? Brave, trusting . . . warm as you are.""Then why?" I whispered, remembering the black moods that pulled him away from me, that I'd always interpreted as well-justified frustration - frustration at my weakness, my slowness, my unruly human reactions . . .He put his hands carefully on both side of my face. "I infuriate myself," he said gently. "The way I can't seem to keep from putting you in danger. My very existence puts you at risk. Sometimes I truly hate myself. I should be stronger, I should be able to-"I placed my hand over his mouth. "Don't."He took my hand, moving it from his lips, but holding it to his face."I love you," he said. "It's a poor excuse for what I'm doing, but it's still true."It was the first time he'd said he loved me - in so many words. He might not realize it, but I certainly did.”


“I peeked up at him one more time, and regretted it. He was glaring down at me again, his black eyes full of revulsion. As I flinched away from him, shrinking against my chair, the phrase if looks could kill suddenly ran through my mind.”


“Melanie still grieves for Jared," she stated. I felt my head nod without willing the action. "You grieve for him."I closed my eyes."The dreams continue?""Every night," I mumbled."Tell me about then." Her voice was soft, persuasive. "I don't like to talk about them.""I know. Try. It might help.""How? How will it help to tell you that I see his face every time I close my eyes? That I wake up and cry when he's not there? That the memories are so strong I can't separate hers from mine anymore?”


“I'd never seen anything more beautiful - even as I ran, gasping and screaming, I could appreciate that. And the last seven months meant nothing. And his words in the forest meant nothing. And it did not matter if he did not want me. I would never want anything but him, no matter how long I lived.”