Thank you to Fran for polishing, 2browneyes, Judyblue, Vampiregirl93 and Michele for reading.

EPOV

Coming to the library every day has become my norm, my thing. Every shift she works that I can possibly manage, I'm here. Sitting in this same chair, my eyes constantly trailing to her. She's beautiful and helpful and kind and smart and I could go on and on.

She also doesn't know I exist.

Well, maybe that's a stretch since I checked a book out last week, and actually went to her instead of waiting for Angela to come on shift. But she doesn't know me, know me; the boy who spends his time just waiting to see her smile as she helps someone out. Or the boy who wonders how she likes her coffee or if she even drinks it at all.

I'm the boy in love with a girl I've never even spoken to.

How does that happen?

It starts with a bump, crashing every book she's carrying down to the ground during freshman year. Hastily helping her grab them and feeling a current like no other run through where our skin met. Then in sophomore year, it's sliding up close to dance behind her at a party with a little too much drink flowing between us. In junior year, it's sharing a class and pretending I wasn't watching her every move, impressed by every correct answer she gave. This year, I plan to man up, to ask her out, to let her know she's supposed to be mine.

But how do you do that when she hasn't even noticed you for all these years?

You make your presence known and that's what I'm doing right now. Well, with a little help from Angela Webber, but I'll take what I can get. Their heads are bent close, but eyes keep cutting my way. I can't miss this chance.

When she finally looks at me full on, I smile and throw up a couple fingers only for her to look away so fast I'm not even sure if she saw them. So, I don't back down. I hold my stare and watch as Angela again speaks intently with her. I hold my stare as she chews on her lip, seemingly unsure of herself. And I hold my stare when she focuses her eyes back to me.

My breath catches in my throat. She's meeting my gaze, curiosity sparkling in her dark eyes. But then, it happens. The thing that changes my life.

Our lives.

The thing that brings me here, to the hospital, praying that she lives through surgery. I tried to save her, I swallowed my fear and charged, but I was too late. She was still shot at the hands of a psycho killer who decided if his ex-girlfriend wasn't going to be with him, she wasn't going to be with anyone. All I managed to do was veer the bullet just enough so she might have a chance … and, I kept him from killing himself too.

He lives.

The deranged idiot, who shot my girl, lives.

I helped him live.

And all the while, all I can do is pray.

I can pray that she lives too.

.

.

I'm barely aware that other students are around me; gathered, waiting, hoping she makes it. So when a hand lands on my shoulder, I jump and look to the person it belongs to. Angela Webber. The pain and sadness in her eyes are almost too much for me.

"Edward," she says softly through teary eyes. "Thank you."

I just stare. Thank you. Thank you. This is what she says to me? Bella, her friend, is fighting for her life and she thanks me? I'm up and out of my seat so fast I have no time to ponder my actions, How the fuck could she thank me? I hid from him like everyone else, too afraid to face the psycho wielding a gun while she, she …

I drop to my knees and break down.

She refused to back down and allow that girl to die alone. She put someone else before herself. She stared in the face of danger. She risked her life. She, she …

It's too much.

The thoughts overwhelm me as I bury my face and cry into my hands. Loud, gut-wrenching sounds escape, but I don't care. I don't care at all.

Finally, a strong hand grips my shoulder. I look up and meet eyes so brown. Her eyes. Enclosed in the face of a gruff-looking man. "Stand up, son."

I pull myself from the floor as he stares at me expectantly. When I'm upright, I glance around the room. Eyes avoid me, but I know they saw, the avoidance is intentional. I'm embarrassed to have broken down so completely in a room full of my classmates.

The man, who still has a firm grasp on my shoulder, holds out his other hand. "I'm Charles Swan, Bella's father. I hear you're the one I need to thank."

Before he's even finished the words, I start shaking my head. "You can't thank me. She's in there fighting for her life. I … I …" I trail off, at a loss for words.

He squeezes my shoulder roughly so that I meet his eyes again instead of staring at the floor. "No, son. I can and I will thank you. Got that?" I swallow and manage a small nod even though I don't think I really mean it. "Everyone says that he was sure to kill her had you not took him to the ground. So, yeah. I'm thankful you intervened, even if she was still hurt."

He gives my shoulder one final squeeze and drops his hand. "Now, follow me, and we'll go wait in the private waiting room specifically for family." He lifts a brow and turns and no matter how responsible I feel, I'd be an idiot not to take him up on it.

.

.

I don't know why Charlie, as he's told me to call him, chose me to let close, but he did and I won't squander my opportunity. Sure, Angela comes by too, but it's me who sits at her side every single day, every spare minute I have. Sometimes he's here too, but a lot of times he trusts me to look over her, and for that, I owe him more than I could ever repay.

I hold her hand, I read to her, I pray for her. I hope she can hear me and sometimes day dream that she does. Time moves on, people get back to normal, but not me. There is no normal without her there. I still go to class and get good grades, but every bit of spare focus I have is on her.

The one who owns my soul.

The one who may never wake up.

The one whose eyes I live to see again.

And then, one day, I do

Not only does she see me, but she calls me by my name.

My name.

And then, she says words I've only ever dreamed of hearing.

"I love you, Edward," she says.

And I'm lost in the wonder of the moment, almost not even caring that she doesn't know what she's saying. That she doesn't know me.

But she said your name, my mind argues against logic.

I simply stare, lost in the words she uttered.

I try to speak, but no words come. Tears form in my eyes and rush forward out of my control. I drop my head to the bed and break.

She's awake.

She's speaking.

And she said my name.

And when I am finally able to gain control, once again, she's sleeping.

.

.

"Charlie, I think she may be coming to once more," I rush out, noticing her twitching her head and her lids fluttering.

He comes over, leaning over my shoulder to peer down at her. "This how it was yesterday?"

"Yes, exactly like this," I confirm.

We both wait anxiously, watching her every twitch, expectant and wanting to see something, anything from her. With movements so slow, I feel as if forever passes, her eyes blink open.

This time, she recognizes her dad too, but strangely, she still addresses me. Panic starts to well in her eyes and questions pour from her lips.

I run my fingers up her arm in an attempt to soothe and if I'm listening to the beep of the heart monitor, it works.

I turn to Charlie. "Maybe you should get the doctor." He agrees and leaves the room.

Alone again.

And like before, she knows me, she loves me, she begs me to tell her I love her too and I do. I do, so much, but I'm afraid. I'm afraid of what she'll think when she knows the truth—she doesn't even know me at all.

But I can't deny her.

I can't deny my feelings when she asks me so desperately.

"You may hate me for this at some point, but yes, I love you, Bella Swan," I tell her, my emotions spiraling out of control.

I pull her close, staring into brown and I can't resist. I connect our lips and the sensations that run through me are ten times more than a brush from dropped school books or a shady dance at a party. They're electric, starting with our connection and sizzling through my limbs. It's both heaven and hell to feel this and know it's isn't really mine to have.

And when I release her, a serene smile curves her lips as she lays back and closes her eyes once more.

.

.

It takes two more weeks for Bella to start becoming aware on a daily basis. Even then, it's for small snippets of time. But in every single instance, she knows me, she loves me. I'm almost ready to live in this dream world she's created for us, but I can't.

Charlie knows, Angela knows, everyone knows. They know I wasn't her boyfriend or even her friend. I'm just the lucky guy she thinks she can't live without right now. And strangely, I'm okay with that. Well, more than okay, I'm … happy living this blissful lie.

By the third week, though, she's spending more time awake and is asking questions. Questions whose answers scare me. Questions that may break her—break me. Charlie keeps trying to put her off, for her sake, not mine, but she needs to be told why she's here. And with that should come realization—if she can remember the facts, and she should, she remembers everyone else.

She just remembers me too.

Even though there's nothing to remember.

Except a man who was afraid to go after what he wanted.

Graduation is today and I'm skipping. Since she's woken up, I spend even more time here than I did before, hoping to see her pretty, love-filled brown eyes as much as possible before she sends me away. She's definitely going to send me away. Who wouldn't? I've let her believe we're together. Sure, she thinks it's what she wants, but when the truth is told, she's going to be so upset.

And I'll be the cause.

I'm holding Bella's hand, watching her sleep when my parents enter the room. Although they understand my feelings and know the story, they were still a little disappointed when I refused to participate in the ceremony. So the least I can do is allow them to take me to dinner.

That's all the time away from her I'm willing to spend.

Because what if she learns the truth while I'm not here?

What if she pushes hard enough and Charlie breaks down and tells her?

I can't miss that moment, even if it's the last time I get to stare into her eyes.

"Son," Mom says quietly from the door.

I let go of Bella's hand and turn to face them. They wear matching expressions of sympathy as they stand there, unsure of what to do. "Come on in," I say, beckoning them closer.

Rising from my seat, I hug Mom and give Dad the man-pat. Then I tilt my head where my heart lies sleeping in her bed. "This is Bella."

My mom moves closer, reaching out to run her fingers along her cheek. "She's beautiful, Edward."

I rub the back of my neck, feeling embarrassed to even be in this position. "I, uh, I know."

Mom turns to me, wetness in her eyes. "Oh, honey." She pulls me into her arms and I want to cry, to break down and let my mommy soothe me, but even she can't fix this.

"Edward," an angel calls, causing me to pull away from Mom and go to her side. She's looking anxiously at me as I take my spot beside her, and then, her eyes side past me to the other couple occupying her room. "Mr. and Mrs. Cullen."

And then she smiles, she fucking smiles as if she's happy to see them—as if she knows them.

Mom's eyes widen, but she quickly composes herself and steps forward. "Bella, how are you feeling, dear? Is there anything I can get you?"

Bella smiles timidly. "No thank you. I'm sorry you've had to come all this way to see me." Then she looks past Mom again, seemingly searching for something. "Is Alice not with you?"

I freeze.

Mom's eyes widen.

Bella's brows furrow. "Is something wrong?" She takes turns looking between the three of us and I'm so stunned that I can't even be bothered to turn to see my dad's expression.

My mouth opens, but words fail me. What can I possibly say? Somehow, somefuckinghow she knows my little sister's name. I can't even comprehend it, much less respond to it. But thank God for Mom, she's my saving grace.

She collects herself together and finally puts Bella at ease. "No, honey, I'm sorry. Alice isn't with us this trip."

Bella's face falls slightly, but she manages to keep a small smile. "Well, thank you for visiting all the same and tell Alice I missed her."

My mom reaches over to brush a stray curl from Bella's face. "I definitely will, dear, and next time I'll make sure she comes."

Bella's smile turns more genuine. "Thank you, Mrs. Cullen."

I'm still here, sitting like an idiot, not sure what to say when Charlie breezes into the room and stops short. "Oh, hi. Sorry, I didn't realize you had company," he says, giving me a look.

Before I can respond, Bella speaks up, "Dad, it's not like you don't know the Cullens anyway." She rolls her beautiful brown eyes while looking at my mom as if they share an inside joke about how clueless he is.

Charlie's jaw drops and he stutters, "Ye-yeah, sure. I, uh, I know the Cullens." Even though he's speaking to her, he's still looking at me as if I know what to do about this development.

I just shrug, unable to even begin answering his unasked questions.

My dad clears his throat. "We didn't mean to intrude, Mr. Swan. We just wanted to take our Edward out for a graduation dinner. We promis—"

"What!" Bella shrieks, cutting my dad off mid-sentence.

All eyes snap to her, but no one speaks.

What could we possibly say?

We have no idea what she 'knows', and from the sound of it, we've somehow messed up.

Bella's eyes pass over each one of us, searching, before landing back on my dad. "What. Did. You. Just. Say?" she asks, her jaw clenched just like her fists that lay by her side.

To stunned to speak—again—I step closer to her in an attempt to soothe, but she's not having it. Her hand flies up, stopping me in my spot. "I asked your father a question, Edward," she says sternly, cutting her eyes to me only when she says my name.

I stand stock still, fear gripping my heart.

Is this it?

Does graduation mean something to her?

Enough to cause this type reaction?

"Bella, honey," her dad says, trying to intervene. "I don't thin—"

"Daddy, please," she begs, her voice cracking, watery eyes never leaving my dad. "I need him to repeat what he just said."

My heart seizes in my chest.

This is it.

This is the moment I've been both anticipating and dreading. The moment I knew would come but prayed it never did. And when it truly hits me, I almost crumble in my spot.

"Dad," I say, staring straight at Bella. "Could I meet you and Mom in a little bit?"

Bella's eyes cut to me, they're harsh. She's angry and I know this is only the beginning.

"Um, sure, son. Come on, Esme." He takes her arm and with one, last, sympathetic glance between Bella and me, she allows him to lead her from the room.

"Cha"—I stop to clear my throat—"Charlie, could you give us a little bit?"

"I don't know, so—"

"No, he's right, Dad. We need a few minutes." Her eyes never leave mine as she dismisses her dad from the room.

With a firm squeeze to my shoulder and a sad smile, he leaves us alone in the deafening silence.

Unsure what to do with myself, I rock back on my heels, drawing in a deep breath and releasing it slowly. Then, I very timidly move over to take my usual chair beside her bed, keeping my eyes on her in case she were to protest. I let out a relieved sigh when I'm firmly planted on the seat.

She wastes no time in crossing her arms over her chest, which causes a grimace, and lifting a brow. "What's going on, Edward?"

That's all she asks, but it's too much. What does she think she knows? How do I answer? Can I keep the truth hidden? Can I keep … her?

I run my hand through my hair in an attempt to stall on answering and quell some of the nerves that run through me like waves in the ocean. "Uh, what do you mean exactly?"

"Don't play stupid, Edward, I know better. You just cleared this room so we could talk, in private. Now talk," she demands with no sign of relenting.

"Okay," I start. "You wanted my dad to repeat himself. What do you think he said, Bella?" There, that's a good start, right? Try to find out what upset her so much about my dad's statement.

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath before opening them. They're sadder and less pissed than before. "I know what he said, Edward. I know what I heard, but I don't understand." The look on her face is so heartbreaking that I can't stay away.

I move closer, reaching out to cup her face. "Bella, baby, I … I … you're going to hate me." Tears rush to my eyes with just the thought of saying the words aloud, picturing the look on her face as the realization hits.

Her hand moves up and latch onto mine. Her grip is strong as if she's bracing to hear, as if she knows it's bad. "I could never hate you," she declares, looking so earnest, I almost believe her. Until I remember exactly what I have to tell her.

I start shaking my head, the tears that had gathered now sliding down my cheeks, but I don't care, I can't care. I'm fixing to lose something so important to me that I feel as if I might die. But then I realize, it's something I never really had.

"Oh, God," I wail, breaking down completely, burying my face into her side.

The snot-sobbing has started and I can't rein it in. Even the feel of her fingers as they slide through my hair does nothing but make me cry harder. Gut-wrenching sobs tear through me as I realize she won't even want to touch me anymore.

See me anymore.

Speak to me anymore.

I don't know how long it is, but at some point, her voice breaks through the haze. "Shh, Edward. Please, just talk to me. I'm afraid. You're scaring me." She repeats the words over and over until they penetrate my mind, calming me, forcing me to understand what my reluctance is doing to her.

I keep my head down and gather myself together—for her. And when I've steeled my resolve, I lift my head and face the consequences of my actions. Leaning closer, I place a gentle kiss on her forehead and then grab her hand to hold between the two of mine.

I stare her directly in those magnificent, deep brown eyes. "Bella, my sweet, beautiful Bella, I want you to remember one thing no matter what else we discuss. Okay? Can you do that? Can you promise me that you will remember?" I plead, hoping against hope that she'll not lose sight of my feelings.

She studies me, opening her mouth and closing it, only to open it once more. "What do I need to remember?"

I close my eyes and exhale and when I open them again, the look she's giving me is so tender, it nearly breaks me again. "Remember that I love you. I do love you."

Panic rises in her eyes. "Why? Why would you say that? Why would I forget that? Tell me, Edward! Tell me what the fuck is going on!"

"Shh," I soothe, rubbing my thumb over her wrist. "I promise I'm going to tell you everything. But, please, remember how I feel."

The panic subsides only a little, but she gives me a small nod.

And with that, I start talking.

I spill everything I know.

I explain that we had never spoken before the incident.

I explain why I couldn't deny her when she woke.

I explain that I've loved her for a while.

And I explain how saying these words are killing me every second.

And then I apologize.

I apologize for misleading her.

I apologize for not saving her sooner.

And I apologize for what I'm about to do.

Pushing forward, I take her tear-stained face between my palms and plant my lips to hers. And just like every other time, the fire races through me at the first contact of skin. It generates at our lips and moves throughout my whole being. My tongue slides into her mouth to caress against hers, doubling the fire, sending a second wave zapping its way through my limbs, making my heart rate speed and goosebumps rise. This is my moment, the last one I may ever get and I intend to savor it, to use it up, gaining every bit of her I can to lock away for safe keeping. To reflect on when I can't have her. To cherish forever.

But I can't keep going forever. All too soon, she's pulling away, gasping for breath, her eyes wide. I'm not sure if it's in wonder or disgust, but I know I overstepped my bounds.

I place one, last, tender kiss to her forehead and stand. "I'm sorry, Bella." Then I turn to hurry from the room before I lose my shit again and beg at her feet to just allow me to stay and watch her live. To be on the outside looking in.

"Wait," she calls before I can make my escape. I freeze in my spot, refusing to turn around, afraid of what she might say next. "Edward."

The pain lacing her voice rips me apart. I have to clutch my chest to keep it from exploding, still terrified to turn around and face her.

"Please."

I can't.

I can't ignore her when she begs. Even if she wants to tear me to the ground for what I've done, I'll let her. I turn around to face her, and what I see when I do, causes my heart to thrum so hard, I have to breathe deeply to supply it with oxygen.

Her tear lined face begs me, her hand reaches for me, willing me back to her. My feet don't even ask, they start the trek without conscience thought. And when I'm before her, I drop to her side in the same manner, no thought to my actions—instinct.

I am but steel and she is my magnet.

Her hand goes to my face, cupping it and running her thumb down my tear-stained cheeks. "Edward," she says so softly I almost melt in my spot. "It's crazy. It's all crazy. And your version of the story makes so much sense. But I have that and another version in my memories. A version where I loved you, you were mine and I was yours. I met your family, we were together. And then, you tell me that it didn't happen, but that you didn't need it to happen to love me. That you love me anyway. If you love me, then why are you running?"

I gulp, unable to answer her question. Unable to understand why she's even speaking to me. "I don't understand, Bella. I don't understand why you aren't yelling and screaming at me right now."

She lets out a small, incredulous giggle and shakes her head. "How can I yell and scream at the man I love, who just so happens to love me back? It doesn't matter to me why I love you, just that I do. And, Edward, you've been nothing but the loving, supportive boyfriend of my dreams since I opened my eyes."

"So you're not even mad?" I ask like a dumbass, shell-shocked at her forgiving heart. I mean, I knew Bella was sweet, beautiful and smart, but I guess there's even more to learn and love than I even realized.

She smiles a genuine, loving smile that makes my chest swell. "I'm not mad … unless you're going to try and run out on me again?"

My shoulders relax completely and a grin to match her own tugs at my lips. "Fucking never, Bella. I'll never to run. I'll prove to you that real boyfriend Edward is even better than dream boyfriend, Edward."

"So you're my boyfriend now?" she teases.

I smirk. "I've been your boyfriend for years. You just didn't know it yet."

"Lucky me," she replies her face glowing with satisfaction.

I can't stop myself, I push my lips to hers. It's a happy mashing of lips on lips, a thank you, a promise, a connection; the sealing of a bond so strong it'll never break

And when we break apart, the smug smiles can't be wiped away. Both so content in our togetherness that nothing else matters.

Well, I hope everything is perfectly clear now. Exactly what happened, Edward's fears and the outcome. I know this story could be more, way more, but I have other things I've promised to do. I won't say there will never be more, but I am marking it complete for now. Maybe one day as Lissa loves marriage and babies ;)

Thank you for reading.

Did he make you swoon?