A/N: This was my contribution to the 2nd Babies at the Border compilation. Beta'd by the lovely NewTwilightFan and purpleC305.
Disclaimer: The author does not own any publicly recognizable characters herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

SMUDGE

Monday morning, I walk into Philosophy class feeling pretty good... well, much better than I've been the last two weeks anyway. I'm actually early for once, so I snag a good seat in the shadowy back-of-middle zone and pull out my binder. I'm still thinking about the weekend, when I see it.

A single loose blank paper is sticking out of my binder, and just like that, it's all I can think about. I pull it out and my breath catches. There's a small smudge at the edge of the page. Most people might have missed it, or ignored it. But I just can't let it go.

It's the fifth time in the last ten days that a random page has turned up in the middle of my books. And each one has had this small smudge at one end. I don't know what this is about, and it's driving me nuts.

"What're you frowning so hard over?" Alice asks, flopping gracelessly onto the empty chair next to me. She starts tossing books, a binder and a bunch of pens onto the table. I sneakily edge a pen my way, because hers are really nice.

I also discreetly tuck the paper away, because I'm not ready to share yet. "Nothing much. Just got a lot to do."

"Don't remind me," Alice groans theatrically. "I might just die before I graduate. How tragic would that be, right?"

"Death by... what, studying?" I ask, only half invested in the conversation. I'm mentally making a list of things to Google when I have a moment. Top of the list: meaning of blank paper. Or maybe not... that search is going to throw up all kinds of useless results, I already know this.

Alice is going on about something, but I'm assuming it isn't super important. We were together the entire weekend anyway, so I don't think I'm missing out on anything.

Actually, that makes me think of something pertinent to this new mystery in my life. Whoever slipped the paper into my binder had to have had access to my room sometime this weekend. No, scratch that. They had to have slipped it in either last night or this morning.

Alright. That narrows it down a bit. All I need to do is make a list of people...

"Bella?"

That voice... I pretend it doesn't send the best kind of shivers down my spine, but damn. Jasper Whitlock has the kind of deep, gravelly voice that should read out smutty audiobooks. Women around the world would pay good money to have him crooning hot, dirty things into their ears.

"Jasper! Hi!" Alice squeaks, then coughs. She basically saves me from embarrassing myself... by embarrassing herself. That's what best friends are for, right?

He takes the seat on my other side, and I can almost feel Alice's longing pierce through me. Yikes, this unrequited attraction is super uncomfortable.

Then he turns to her and I swear his slow, lazy smile is meant to give a girl ideas... of the sinful kind. Ooh, looks like the attraction isn't so unrequited after all! Why am I not surprised?

I pretty much try to melt into my chair so these two can get their hot stare on. And believe me, there's a lot of staring, and they've forgotten I exist. How do I know this? Oh, just the little fact that he's now leaning across my desk to brush her hair off her cheek, and telling her (in this really sexy whisper) that she looks good this morning.

I'm sure they're about to start making out in my freaking lap any minute now, which may not be the worst thing...

Then I forget all my scandalous voyeuristic thoughts, because that hand Jasper had stretched out to Alice? He's tugging on a lock of her hair and teasing her and she's being coy and whatever, I don't care... his hand is all smudged up!

I don't even think, I just reach out and grab his hand... which has the unfortunate effect of yanking Alice's hair, but she'll get over it.

"Hey, what happened to your hand?" I turn it this way and that, and I suppose he's stunned to realize that a wide world exists beyond the bubble he and Alice were in, because he doesn't try to pull away.

Alice seems to wake from her Jasper-induced haze as well. "Oh wow, yeah. This looks like you ran into an angry inkpot or something. Do people still have inkpots?"

"People who have ink pens do," he replies with a smile. I want to roll my eyes, because he would smile at any dumb thing Alice said. They're so gone for each other. I kind of love it, even though I pretend to hate it. "Nah, my pen kind of exploded on me, though. Just... the nib flew off and the ink leaked all over my hand. I tried to wash it off but it didn't really work." He gives a kind of half grimace paired with a bashful shoulder shrug, and he makes it look good.

"A ball-point pen exploded on you?" Alice sniggers. Good, she's getting her snark-ilibrium back. It always takes a few minutes for her to get back to normal when Jasper turns up.

Jasper insists it did, Alice teases him some more, yadayada... I'm not invested in that conversation because one, it's just another way for them to flirt, and two, I'm trying to figure out if I can possibly pull out the blank page to compare the smudge with the ink on Jasper's hands. Sitting in between the two makes it a little difficult, though.

Prof walks in and I try to pay attention to what she's talking about, because I quite like the process of getting educated. I'm a little distracted, but by the end of class, I've figured out a way to compare the ink. It's time for a direct approach.

"Hey Jasper," I say, grabbing his hand again. Alice gives me a not-very-pleased side-eye. "I need a picture of your epic ink." That makes Alice grin, so I wink at her, then quickly snap a couple of pictures of his hand with my phone.

Jasper has got to be the nicest sexy guy I know. Or maybe he's just this nice to me because I'm Alice's best friend. Whatever, at least it lets me get away with stuff like this.

I grab my things and rush out before either of them can try to stop me. I'm not sure they would've tried, because I basically just gave them the perfect set up to sneak off for a date or to make out or whatever.

I need a safe, quiet place where no one will disturb my investigation. Obviously, I need to get to the library, but there is one thing that makes me hesitate.

To be more precise, one person: Edward Cullen. He's hot, he's handsome, and he's on my shit list.

He's usually at the library at this time of the day. Damn it, I really don't want to deal with him right now. Or the mess I am around him.

But the library is a big enough place that I won't necessarily run into him. Ah, fuck it. I can do this.

I jog up the stairs and slip in unobtrusively. It's almost noon, so there aren't too many people in here. I quickly make my way to a table near the back. This section is practically deserted, and just as I set my bag down at the table nearest the window, the only other guy packs up his stuff and walks off. Perfect!

I artfully arrange a few books to make it look like I'm busy studying, just in case someone happens to come this way. Then I pull out the blank paper and study it.

Light is streaming in through the window, and I hold the paper up against it, tilting it this way and that. I don't see anything, not even a watermark, so I bring up the picture I just took of Jaspers ink-smudged hand on my phone.

It doesn't take me more than a couple of seconds to see that it's a completely different ink. The smudge is black, and Jasper's ink is dark blue. It looked similar in the darkish classroom, but it's pretty clear right now that it's not him.

I sit back in my chair with a huff, tossing my reading glasses onto the mysterious paper. The glasses make a pretty parabola rainbow appear on the paper, and I idly wonder if I could actually burn it up using my glasses.

"Well, it's not like I have a better use for it," I mutter, grabbing my glasses and moving them back and forth, trying to make the light focus on the paper.

I'm not really paying attention, though. Why on earth would someone go to the trouble of sneaking random bits of paper into someone's stuff? And five times?

I nearly jump out of my skin when the chair next to mine is pulled out and the one person I wanted to avoid sits down in it.

"Hey, Bella." He smiles, but I try not to look. I try not to be affected. I try... and I fail.

"Hey, Edward." I'm sure I sound unenthusiastic, but can you blame me?

"Why have you been avoiding me?"

I'm startled and turn towards him then, which is a huge mistake. His stupid green eyes and soft lips are way too close. I push at his shoulder, but he just parks an elbow on the table and rests his head on his hand, not breaking his stare for a moment. Now the sunlight is hitting his hair just so, and I grip my hands together so I don't reach out to stroke it. It's one of my favorite things to do... it was one of my favorite things to do when we would be lying in bed talking.

"Why'd you think that?" I hope my laugh sounded less fake to him than it did to me.

He's looking at me so intently that my heart skips a beat. There's no hint of a smile, no teasing spark in his eyes. It makes me nervous. I want to fidget; I want to look away, but I just can't.

"No calls, no texts, and you actually hid behind a bush to avoid me on Friday. For the last two weeks, you've been ghosting me. I want to know why."

Damn, he's good. There's not the slightest hint of guilt, no flicker of 'oh shit, did she find out I was a two-timing scumbag?'

"Because I don't want to see you anymore." Was that too abrupt? He raises an eyebrow, but stays right where he is, so I guess I need to elaborate. "What we had... it was supposed to be casual. If either of us wanted to see other people, we would end this..." I wave my finger between us. "So that's what I did. I basically stepped back." I'm doing a good job of not sounding like a jealous girlfriend, I think.

"Sure, we said it was casual. And we did say we would end it if we wanted to see other people. But I wasn't with anyone else. I don't want to see anyone else. Are you trying to tell me you want to be with someone else?"

I glare at him. What's he trying to do, turn the blame on me?

"That's not what I said. You're the one who wants to see other people!"

He sits up straight, then leans in way too far into my space. "Nope. I don't."

I can't think when he's this close. Damn him!

"Bella," he murmurs, and now his lips brush against mine. I close my eyes, and still he's all I see. At the sharp bite of his teeth at the edge of my lip, my eyes snap open. "Why'd you think I need anyone else when I have you?" He runs a couple of fingers along my jaw, up along my ear, into my hair.

Then he kisses me for real.

The moment his lips touch mine, it's like the world tilts. His lips are soft, but there's an underlying firmness that lights me on fire. I don't know when I shut my eyes; I don't know when my lips part for him; I don't know who I am, or where we are, or anything except how he tastes, and feels, and that I want him. He draws back, but I want just a little more. Before I ask, he's already answering.

My whole being is focused on this feeling, on this startling frisson of excitement that he transfers to me with his touch.

My fingers are stroking his soft hair, and his hands are gripping me close. We're barely breathing when he calms my frenzy with gentle pecks and caresses all over my face. My lips are tingling. It's almost painful, the way every part of me longs for him.

"I want you," he says, so quietly I would've missed it if he wasn't practically crooning it into my skin. "No one else. Just you."

Any resistance I might've had just disappears in a puff of nothingness. There's something between us… there's always been something between us. Even though this is supposed to be casual, it feels deeper than that.

I lean closer, because I need more of his kisses. I've missed them… I've missed him these past two weeks.

He draws back, one finger coming to rest gently on my lips.

"You still want to end this?"

What? Is he crazy?

"Edward Cullen, are you trying to be funny right now?"

"You're the one who was avoiding me, and you just said you wanted to end this," he waves a finger between us. He's so smug I could smack him… but there's still a touch of something soft in his eyes. It disarms me, and I suddenly don't want to hold on to any of the anger and insecurity that kept me away from him.

"It's not like I want to," I shrug. "I just figured it was what you wanted. I was trying to not make a fool of myself…but well, see how that turned out."

"What did you think you saw?"

"Tanya Denali threw herself at you and hugged you, and I walked away because it made me want to throw up."

"And? She throws herself at me any chance she gets. I push her away and the world keeps spinning."

"Right, but this time, she came up to me about a half hour later with her hair all mussed up and lipstick a mess and… well, she implied."

He looks half amused and half annoyed. "Implied?"

"Yeah, you know."

"I suppose I can guess," he looks a little more annoyed now. "But seriously, Bella. I would never cheat on you."

I pick at my nails, trying not to show how happy I suddenly feel. "Yeah, okay."

He grabs my hands and waits till I'm looking at him again. "I'm serious."

Gah! He's way too cute for his own good. Maybe I should grill him a little more, maybe I shouldn't believe him so easily, but I can't help it. I wouldn't believe anyone else so easily, with Edward I don't even question it.

I think I'm stupid today.

I'll live.

"Alright, I believe you."

"C'mon, let's get a coffee," he says, starting to rise. He isn't letting go of my hand though. I like it. "I want to talk to you about something."

"Okay, wait, let me just…" I turn and try to stuff my books back into my bag one-handed. I reach for my glasses and the paper underneath… and pause, because I think the glass and sunlight paper burning trick seems to have worked. "Hey, wait a sec."

He lets go of my hand reluctantly, because I keep tugging. I don't particularly want to let go either, but I do need my hand, and besides, my palm is a bit damp with all the hand holding, which is a bit gross.

He reaches for the paper, but I beat him to it. The paper has browned unevenly in the spot where the lens of my glasses concentrated the sunrays.

"Oh my God, is this… it looks like writing!"

I trace the loop of what might be an 'e', and is this a 'y'? Now I'm both mystified and excited, because clearly we have a case of invisible writing on our hands… I absolutely love this!

"Invisible ink," I whisper to Edward, waving the paper around happily. "It shows up when heated."

He nods, staring at the paper as if it's the most fascinating thing ever. It kind of is, because I've wanted to get a secret letter like this my whole life! But I'm not missing the fact that the tips of Edward's ears have gone rather red. Interesting.

"Right… so, uh. You need to heat it."

He sounds dumb. I don't mind too much. He's still cute.

I don't have the patience to wait till I get back to my dorm room. A quick look around and I have my answer.

"Turn that lamp on," I direct him, pointing to one of the carrels. He does it without asking stupid questions, so I guess he's got his wits back. We work silently, pressing the paper up in sections against the hot bulb of the lamp. Bit by bit, the writing is revealed. Neither of us says a word till we are done. I pass it over the lamp one more time just in case there's a tiny squiggle we missed the first time round.

Then we lay the sheet flat on the table top and stare at it.

'In my mind

A hundred times

I've asked you

Be mine…

But the words disappear.'

- If you find my words and read this letter, meet me in the library at 7.

It isn't signed, unless you count the little black smudge at the bottom of the page.

"Soooo, somebody has a secret admirer," Edward nudges me with a grin. "Is this why you were trying to break up with me?"

I nudge him back not-so-gently in the ribs. "Sure, Edward. I wanted to break up because of a letter I hadn't even realized was a letter." I couldn't stop my epic eye-roll if I tried. "Now tell me, were all the letters the same?"

He blinks as if surprised. "How would I know? You weren't even talking to me when you started getting these!"

I snort a laugh. "Want to dig that hole a little deeper? I do recognize your handwriting, you know. Besides, I haven't told anyone about the papers, so how would you know when I started getting them?" I pick the paper up and hold it out as evidence.

He tries to keep a straight face, but I know he's fighting a smile. "Maybe I just wanted to reach you, and you weren't talking to me."

"Maybe," I agree. I take a step forward and he moves a step back. "Or maybe you just had too much time on your hands."

"Maybe I wanted to make sure you had no time to date someone else."

"So you cooked up a mystery for me?" I keep advancing, till his back hits the bookshelf. "Maybe I like that."

He doesn't answer, but there's that look again—he's looking at me with more than desire, more than affection even. It makes my heart pound, yet comforts me like a warm blanket on a cold night.

Then he reaches out and brushes his thumb roughly against my lip, smudging up any lipstick that survived our last kiss. I watch dumbfounded as he takes the forgotten letter from my nerveless hand and carefully presses his thumb at an angle to the original smudge.

He just… a heart? Half black, half red, half me, half him.

I'm full-body quivering at this point. Sometimes, I wish he would just say something… other times, I step up and take my man.

He lets out a grunt of surprise just before my lips meet his. It's all I can do not to rip his clothes off right there. The need to get close is so intense…but he slows my frantic kisses, turning them sweet and deep and entirely too much to bear.

I press up against him, and I know he's not as collected as he seems. I can feel the way his muscles tense with the effort of not crushing me to his body. We've been here before, in the middle of this frenzy, this crazy, unbearable hunger… but this is more.

I cant my hips to his, and I'm sure we both moan at the contact. His fingers dip inside the waistband of my jeans and I kiss him again, wordlessly telling him all the things I want.

A bony finger taps me on the shoulder, and for a moment I can't process where the extra limb came from. Then I freeze, which makes Edward pause and look up.

I've never been happier to be thrown out of a library in my life.

…

"Pity the librarian saw us, sex in the stacks would've been fun."

"You've thought about it, haven't you?" I tease.

"A lot." He winks, which makes me laugh.

"Hey," I start… then stop, because I don't quite know how to say this.

"What?" he looks at me a beat, probably sees the blush and my general fidgeting, and figures me out right quick. "Oh, you mean this?"

He waves the secret letter in my face, laughing when I swat at him to stop flapping it at me.

"I'm going to frame it," he says. "This is like a contract you can't break."

"Pffft, as if," I scoff.

Then we go buy a frame together.