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Like a little girl I sit enraptured by the spectacle before me, wide eyed as another bolt of lightning torches the horizon, blue fire on black water, illuminating the dwindling twilight.

"Oooh."

Edward shifts behind me, his hand tickling my hip. "That was a good one."

"Yeah, it was." I shiver a little, and he adjusts the heat in the car, turning it up a little higher.

There is no one up here but us. We have the best seats in the house, front row to nature's light show. A strong gust of wind picks up, shaking Edward's car like the Incredible Hulk as it passes by.

He looks at me in exaggerated concern and I laugh, loving it.

Loving him.

"Maybe we should go before we get blown into the water," I say, reaching for my hoodie, which is caught between the console and the driver's seat.

"Nope." He maneuvers me down, onto the backseat that is still slick from our sweat.

"Making up for lost time?" I tease, letting him arrange my arms and legs in the cramped space. Last time I did something like this somewhere like this I didn't even like the person. It was stilted and awkward and dirty and weird.

But this… this is normal and natural and sacred and sweet.

Earlier in he day he'd let me in on his backseat fantasies and I was more than happy to oblige - after all, I've wanted him for so, so long and it doesn't matter where.

It's odd when you meet someone and they are a certain way, and they change, and you realize the person you knew is not who they ever really were. As for me, I feel I'm fully me again, and not the girl-who-lost-her-self.

The years of disconnect between Edward and me served a greater purpose, letting each of us heal without the hindrance of the other. Ironically it's Edward who believes more in fate now - I believe in choices - but when it comes down to it, it's fairly obvious we are supposed to do this, to be this way.

Edward slides my behind to the edge of the seat and kneels on the floor, lowering his face between my legs.

"Maybe this isn't the best car for this," I say, catching my fingers in his hair.

He ignores me, licking his tongue in circles and swipes until I shake, and then he is inside me, even as I come.

Because we did it in the front seat less than an hour before, it takes longer this time and I'm almost sore by the time he finishes. But it's the kind of sore I like, that will make me think of this every time I sit a certain way or when I'm in the shower later.

A startling too-close flash of light makes all things bright and I tighten involuntarily around him, hands gripping arms and feet dug into thighs.

"Sorry," I whisper-giggle, heart pounding.

He leans up, grinning down at me in the almost-dark. "Getting kinda spooky out here."

"I liked it earlier, when the storm was just coming in." I touch his face, completely liquid on the inside.

I never, ever want this to end or fade, which is scary and makes me vulnerable because I know what it's like to be disappointed and left behind.

But lucky for me, Edward does too. Strange how the things that hurt us the most have bound us together and somehow in a way that's good, like we've escaped the cloud but clung to its silver lining.

He leans down and kisses me again, his hair tickling my forehead.

Tomorrow we drive back to Seattle.

Edward does not have curtains in his apartment; he has blinds, long and vertical, nicer than mine back in Forks. His new bedroom window faces east, and in the morning buttery light melts through the slats in narrow streams, gold lines across dark sheets.

Awake first, I yawn and stretch, letting my toes touch his leg. I know that when he wakes, he will come to me, and touch me, because we are still at the point where we want each other all the time.

But for now I enjoy the quiet, the full feeling of being wanted and loved and safe in this bed.

His bed.

end.

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