Edward Cullen has found his true love after waiting for nearly a century. Will anyone understand? Written for Rhia from AbGoat.

In all of his time as a vampire, Edward Cullen had never felt such a surge of longing in his veins. He had never loved anything or anyone in such a way that his very world revolved around one thing and would collapse before him if that thing were taken away from him. He had never so much as imagined such love.

This thing shone like a seraph in the sunlight with an elegance that he had never imagined, and though he rarely voiced the thought he knew that such beauty could hardly be attained. They stayed together all of the time, Edward and the sleek, delicate object of his eternal love. Nothing could move him away from this one thing, even death itself.

He envisioned a lavish wedding and beautiful children, picket fences and greying hair, and though he was a vampire nothing could keep him from what he loved.

Unsure of what to say, he simply eyed the spatula in wonder.

Raphael, he'd named it. They were alone at last, away from the world and their critical glances. He was not insane; he was in love. Someone had to understand that. Carlisle, perhaps? Edward drove to the hospital, desperate to have Carlisle's approval.

"What did it feel like when you were in love, Carlisle?" he asked.

"I could hardly go a moment without seeing her face," he started, voice delicate. "My world was her, and I could not live without her at my side."

Edward smiled. He had known it all along. "That is how I feel... about someone."

The man rose an eyebrow. "Bella Swan?"

He shook his head, offended, and gently pulled the spatula from his pocket, caressing it with a finger.

"Oh, Edward... Are you serious?"

He nodded.

"Well... I think-"

"You understand, don't you? You know that we need to be together! Carlisle?"

He shook his head. "We'll talk later. Go and talk to Bella."

Bella. That wretched girl that everybody loved. Edward drove his Volvo into the distance... Las Vegas was waiting for he and his love.