Disclaimer: I own none of the characters or the original story.

Final chapter! Yay! I feel disgusted by my fluffy self, and I'm never writing fluff again. Anyway, I hope you like it. I feel like I got a little out of character, but that's bound to happen when someone who isn't the original author is writing these characters. I seem to have put a lot of my own awkwardness into them. The whole lip-biting thing, I do that a lot. In fact, I found I was doing it whenever I wrote about them doing it.
Anyway, fluffy. Mildly angsty (or else I would die). Bye, and thanks for reading!

A Brief History of Tofu

3: Traditionally used as a food offering

He really did try. He tried not to watch her over the top of his art history textbook. He tried not to pretend that his fingers splayed in her hair. He tried not to grin uncontrollably as he did these things. Stalkers, generally speaking, did not get the girl.

But there was no way to overcome. No taking his eyes off her, no stop to the daydreams. No reprieve. Not that he particularly wanted a reprieve, but either way, he couldn't stop.

Every now and then she would glance up and catch his eye, only to blush and drop her eyes back to her book, accompanied with the slightest upturn at the corners of her mouth. Each time, this would cause him to bite his lip and he would feel the warmth rising in his own cheeks.

Beside him, Jasper just pretended to be absolutely engrossed in his book. He was the only one actually succeeding in self-control. Edward knew that he would get a few choice deadpan comments later, but he was completely willing to deal with that.

Edward still had one problem though: he'd never been in a relationship before. Not really. Back in high school, he'd experienced the occasional drunken hook-up, which always ended up too awkward for words. Even without those experiences, he didn't have an inkling as to how to go about asking Bella out on a date. He worked himself up a few times, but somehow all his confidence kept getting shot. What if it ends badly? What if she realizes she doesn't like me? What if I hurt her?

He wanted to be selfish, but too many possibilities floated out there in the atmosphere. So for the moment, getting lost in his head sufficed.

Jasper shocked him out of his thoughts with a sharp jab in the ribs. Edward jumped, his text slipping between his fingers and hit the table with a slap, disrupting the silence of the library. A roomful of eyes darted in his direction, some glaring, some barely interested. "What?" he hissed under his breath.

"Why haven't you asked her out yet?"

"I'm working on it."

"You know, I think it'd be better for everyone if you just… did it. In one fell swoop." Jasper had this way of talking very directly without actually making eye contact with anyone. Through experience, he knew that it was the best way to convince Edward of doing something.

"Like a band-aid?"

"Exactly. Except it won't be that painful."

Edward scowled, looking down at a Caravaggio splayed across the two pages in front of him. He hadn't even realized these pages had no text. "Nobody really knows that." Jasper sighed in exasperation, shaking his head. He never took his eyes away from the battered book in his hands.

"Both of you are being really immature. Just step up to plate, please, and save the rest of us the torture." Finally, Jasper looked askance at Edward, who met him with a glare. The room felt smaller, more suffocated. Edward decided he had to leave, find somewhere else to go. With any luck, one of the private practice rooms would be open and he could play something. He hadn't sat down in front of a piano in ages, and his fingers itched for the keys. Casting one final look at Bella, who sat in the same seat, typing furiously, Edward shoved his text into his backpack and slipped out the door.

Outside, a fair amount of snow had melted, although a fine dusting still littered the ground. It was supposed to start snowing again that night, so he figured he had to enjoy the freedom to move across campus while he had it.

As soon as he sat on the bench, whatever tension in his muscles melted away and he immediately began to play. A month without practice made some transitions sloppy, and his fingertips flew across the keys with far less dexterity than he had hoped. Nevertheless, he pushed every thought out of his mind and focused on the music. Stumbling only lightly, he moved from a Dvořák waltz to Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. He finished that, and set his fingers down on his lap, twisting them and intertwining them, lost completely in thought.

"That… was gorgeous…"

Edward started, turning to stare at his company. Completely unbeknownst to him, Bella had crept into the room during his play. "How long have you been standing there?" he asked.

"Not very long. I only caught the end of that last piece."

"I messed up a lot. It's been a while."

"I didn't notice," Bella said. He noticed that he hands hid behind her back, and her warm eyes couldn't exactly focus on him. "I'm not all that up on my classical music, though. Would you mind if I listen while you play?"

Edward shook his head as he felt that same smile creep onto his face – the one he sometimes wished he could hide around her, though it never listened. "Do you want to sit?" He motioned to the space on the bench next to him. Bella lifted one foot, but almost immediately stepped back, huffing slightly.

Involuntarily, his fists balled and he narrowed his eyes. He felt like he was boiling underneath his skin. If he weren't so surprised by the sudden anger, he probably would've stayed angry for a while. Not that it was so much anger as frustration. Or maybe it wasn't even that.

The confusion made him want to scream.

Instead, he found his voice coming out soft, almost a purr, but with an unnecessarily hard edge to it. "Bella, I'm confused."

"About what?" Her voice came out twisted, muffled.

"You." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Sometimes when I'm with you, it's like you're not entirely there."

"Oh." That was all she could say. The sound was low, almost like she'd only made the shape with her lips without speaking. Quickly, he realized that their conversation was getting nowhere. However, he stayed rooted to his seat, watching her warily.

He found himself sighing, except that now he felt calmer. The frustration still lingered just below the surface of his voice, but he worried he might scare her off. He worried far too much, he thought. "Okay. I don't know how to say this any way except bluntly, so… I'm just going to say it."

He couldn't. Bella looked at him expectantly. A few more deep breaths and he could speak. He just needed to not worry so much about her reaction, that was all. "I think… I'm falling in love with you."

"Oh." Again, Bella was barely audible.

"Sometimes, I think you feel the same way – or at least, similar – but then you sort of detach. I get lost, and I don't know what to say, or how to act. I like spending time with you, but every now and then there's this wall that ends up between us. I want to break it down, Bella. I want to be able to look at you and not feel embarrassed that you know. I want…" He stopped.

Across the room, back pressed against the door, Bella shook her head. Disbelief flooded his face, combined with something far more tortured. He thought he could endure the "just friends" aspect, but he was wrong. A part of him constantly nagged at the back of his mind (or, rather, more towards the front) saying that she didn't reciprocate. He didn't want to lose her as a friend, but it was live without being able to reach out and touch her, or live with the rejection and move on.

The rejection completely floored him. His breathing slowed and he felt dizzy; his cheeks increasingly got hotter as he realized how much of an idiot he'd made himself out to be. The entire time, he'd imposed himself on her. He was a burden.

"Could you talk?" he asked, trying to hide the mounting hurt and annoyance, the latter of which was directed at himself.

"Um… give me a second," Bella said. Without warning, she sank to the floor and looked directly at him, eyes full of too many emotions for him to identify and list. "You're saying that you like me?" Edward wanted to be annoyed at that, but he couldn't, so he nodded. "I'm confused."

"You're confused?"

"Yes. Just… hold on… let me… ugh, I don't understand this. That makes no sense. It doesn't happen."

"Why not?"

"You are joking with me, aren't you? This is some kind of sick joke. It's not funny."

"Bella, I am not playing a joke on you." He paused. "I'm trying to talk to you. I'm trying to be honest. If you don't feel the same way, tell me and then kindly leave."

"That's the thing, Edward. I do. But we can't be together."

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic."

"I'm not being melodramatic," she said incredulously. "I'm just saying, this doesn't make sense to me."

"Why not?"

"Exhibit A – look at you. Now look at me." He just stared blankly at her. "You have your own fan club, Edward. You have your pick of just about any girl on campus. First of all, you play piano like a professional, you like to read, you love coffee, you're funny, you do well in school, and you're gor… you're easy on the eyes. There's no reason why you should pick me over everyone else here, or in the entire state of Vermont. I'm not interesting. I'm a klutz, I don't get along well with others, I'm… well, not so easy on the eyes…"

"You're very, very wrong about that last part," he muttered wearily, though he felt the familiar smirk coming on. "Bella, you're being a little bit crazy, you know that?"

"No, I'm not. I'm trying to be rational here. What if you get bored with me? What if you realize that I'm not what you want?"

"I can't imagine that happening. Besides, we've known each other for a few weeks, Bella. We can only figure this out as we go along. But right now, I can't picture going on another second without having you with me. In everything. Well, maybe not everything, but…" He paused, picking himself up off the bench and walking over to her. Luckily, the room was only about ten feet across, so he took a few strides over to her, crouching a foot or so away. "I know this is mildly ridiculous, but I look at you… and I feel… I don't even know."

"And you're usually so eloquent," she said. She was playing with him. Playing was good.

"Shut up." Very quickly, his demeanor changed. "Bella, what I'm trying to say is… you're exactly what I want. How could I want anything else?"

"Easily."

"Do I have to show you how serious I'm being, Bella?" Without waiting for an answer, he took her cheek in hand, cupping it gently, and pressed his lips to hers. She didn't move a muscle.

Once again, he felt that powerful wave of rejection swelling in his stomach. "Okay," he murmured, drawing back. Edward expected Bella's face to be flushed, bright red; rather, she looked chalky pale, and her eyes inquisitive. She stared directly at him, locking his gaze. Then her huge grin – the one he pretended was only for him – broke out, and she threw her arms around his neck.

Suddenly, everything felt very bright and saturated, as though he hadn't seen real light in weeks. Her lips moved against his slowly at first, but when he placed both hands on her hips, she pushed into him, opening her mouth slightly. The rush of warm air between their lips exhilarated him, electrified him. Her fingers grabbed at his hair, pulling gently so that he was closer to her, so that there would be almost no space between them. His legs grew tired, but he didn't care. The thought of letting go, of creating space between them again, drove him crazy and he tightened his hold around her waist.

Then her lips left his, though their foreheads touched and they shared identical smiles (as identical as two very different people's smiles can be). He hadn't even thought he needed to breathe.

"How very cliché of us," Bella muttered. "It's like we're in some bizarre romantic comedy."

"Yes, well… I unfortunately can't come up with anything witty at the moment. Bear with me." He kissed her lightly on the nose. "And I have class in about ten minutes."

"Then we'll discuss this later. When you're out of class," she said breathlessly, staring deep into his eyes.

"Right. You'll have to remind me where we left off." The blush he found so endearing had returned to Bella's cheeks as she realized the position they were in: her back pressed against the doorway, him crouching with his hands awkwardly around her waist. Her arms had never left his neck. "You'll also have to let me go," he said quietly.

They both stood on shaky legs, and before he turned to leave, he pressed a kiss to her cheek and whispered, "Thank you." Then she stood alone, save for the piano.

He couldn't concentrate through his entire French class. His memory was far too good. Bella's hair, her eyes, her lips, those warm cheeks: they were all his. Technically. At least, for the moment. He didn't let his mind wander in that direction. Between the two of them, they had enough insecurities to make up for every arrogant person in history. As soon as the class finished, he sprang out the door. Just down the hall and around the corner, Bella stood waiting for him, coffee in hand. All smiles.

The two of them wandered to one corner of the campus where people rarely ventured at this time of day. Along the walk, their hands had drifted closer and closer together until their mittened fingers laced together.

"Bella, talk," Edward said through a sip, watching her as her face became more and more drawn, her eyebrows knitting in thought.

"I'm still confused."

He rolled his eyes and squeezed her hand. "Please, don't be. Listen, we won't know whether or not this will work unless we try. Personally, I'm ready to go to hell and back for you, and I barely know you, so I'm hoping beyond hope it will work out." He stopped, and then laughed at himself. "Okay, I need to stop taking cues from romance novels." She smiled back at him. "Let's try this again. Bella."

"Edward."

"I was wondering if maybe you would be interested in going out to dinner with me some time."

"What?"

"I'm trying to be proper here, bear with me." He brushed one hand across her cheek. Even beneath the cotton-hemp blend of his mitten, he could feel the heat radiating off of her. Pure bliss. "Would you like to go out to dinner with me, yes or no?"

"Yes," she said, laughing.

"Now, do you remember what you were being hysterical about before?" Edward asked. He was immediately treated with a scoff and an eye-roll. "About how you don't think you're good enough for me? May I say that you are possibly the most absurd person I've ever met for thinking that?"

"You already made that clear."

"Then why does your face keep falling that way?"

"What way?"

"The way it did whenever you seemed like you were second-guessing yourself around me." She averted her eyes, but he caught her chin in his hand and gently forced her gaze back up. "Bella, every part of me wants us to work out. If it doesn't, my bones might break or something equally as dramatic. I don't want you to ever feel like you're second-best. I don't ever want you to feel unworthy. Hell, if anything, I feel unworthy half the time I'm around you. You amaze me."

"Right."

"You do. Honestly, Bella, you do," he said in earnest, leaning ever closer to her. "Please believe that. If neither of us can get over whatever's holding us back, this relationship will crumble."

"What's holding you back?" she asked, eyes widened with interest now. Edward fell silent. "Oh, c'mon, Edward. I want to know."

It was his turn to look away. "I worry that I'll end up hurting you, or that you'll never fall for me the way I've fallen for you." Instead of speaking, Bella simply crushed her lips against his, and then pulled back quickly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to do that," she stammered.

"That's okay." He pulled her closer, catching her in another soft kiss. "I could get used to this, silly girl." She smiled against his mouth, and he pulled her closer. "Silly, silly girl," he murmured into her lips. When they pulled apart, breathless despite the relative tameness of the kiss, he knew he wouldn't be able to let go again. "I can't believe I've waited a month for this."

"I can," Bella said, smirking. He pushed her gently before taking her up in a tight hug. Her hair tickled his nose with the strong scent of strawberries, leading him to plant his lips on her forehead.

"Bella, can I ask you something?" All of a sudden, something hit him. It seemed completely out of place, really.

"What?"

"How did you know where I was earlier? I mean, it's not that I'm not thankful you dropped in, but how'd you find me?"

Already, Bella's cheeks had turned bright red, practically matching his mittens. "Um… that's a good question…"

"Are you going to tell me?"

She bit her lip, weighing her options. The act, so incredibly simple, made him reach down and kiss her again, catching her off guard. This time, his tongue darted into her mouth, exploring a little bit. Just as suddenly as he had begun, he pulled away again, Bella pouting slightly. "I'm sorry. I seem to be moving very quickly." Bella only shrugged, inciting a laugh from Edward. "Anyway, tell me, please?"

"Jasper told me where he thought you were going. He sort of caught me off-guard."

"What'd he say?"

"Something about how we're both blind and that I should go running after you before we dug ourselves into pits of despair."

"That's more words than Jasper has ever spoken to anyone besides Alice and I, I think, in his entire life. Anyway, you listened to him, then?" There she went, always quick to blush.

"Curiosity got the better of me. I wasn't expecting anything quite so… substantial by following you. I still can't believe I did it. I'm not usually so forward"

Edward snorted. "Forward? Bella, on a scale of one to ten, ten being stalker, you're probably about a two."

"Would you have followed after me?" Bella asked.

"Maybe." Actually, he didn't know. Because of all the times Bella seemed so disinterested in him, he doubted he would believe anyone that said they were meant for each other. Jasper seemed convinced of it already. "Probably not," he admitted.

"See. Forward. Maybe even desperate."

"Anyway, enough of that. Dinner plans. You said I could take you out on a proper date, and I plan on doing just that."

Bella stopped dead in her tracks. "Just so you know, I'm not giving up meat."

"Not yet," Edward said with a trademark crooked smile. "Baby steps."

"I don't know if I can do that." The look on her face was of pure terror.

"Trust me," he murmured, kissing the top of her head. The two of them continued to walk down the path, and Edward pulled her closer to him, tossing an arm casually over her shoulder. It surprised him how right she felt, snuggled close to his body. All around them, tiny puffs of white tumbled to the ground, almost dancing in the air.

"I wonder if you can make a snow-block-of-tofu," Bella mused.

The End.