I was thinking, while I was running..." He paused. "About not hitting the trees, I hope.

He squeezes my hand, and my heart punches against my ribs. It's just like pain, this pleasure.

Bella: "I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not." Edward: "And I should feel sorry that you're not sorry, but I don't.

Edward can do everything, right?" I explained. Jasper snickered and Esme gave Edward a reproving look. "I hope you haven't been showing off-it's rude," she scolded. "Just a bit," he laughed freely. "He's been too modest actually," I corrected. "Well, play for her," Esme encouraged. "You just said showing off was rude," he objected. "There are exceptions to every rule," she replied.

But what if...what if you sincerely believed something was true, but you were dead wrong? What if you were so stubbornly sure that you were right, that you wouldn’t even consider the truth? Would the truth be silenced, or would it try to break through?

So when he touched me, it was deeper and slower than the wildfire, like the flow of molten rock far beneath the surface of the earth. Too deep to feel the heat of it, but it moved inexorably, changing the very foundations of the world with its advance.

Everything in my world was about him. What a silly thing to expect.