Сумерки

           Ithrewthetowelinthehamper,flungmybrushandtoothpasteintomybag.ThenIdasheddownthestairssoCharliecouldseethatIwasinmypajamas,withwethair.

           "’Night,Dad."

           "’Night,Bella."Hedidlookstartledbymyappearance.Maybethatwouldkeephimfromcheckingonmetonight.

           Itookthestairstwoatatime,tryingtobequiet,andflewintomyroom,closingthedoortightlybehindme.

           Edwardhadn’tmovedafractionofaninch,acarvingofAdonisperchedonmyfadedquilt.Ismiled,andhislipstwitched,thestatuecomingtolife.

           Hiseyesappraisedme,takinginthedamphair,thetatteredshirt.Heraisedoneeyebrow."Nice."

           Igrimaced.

           "No,itlooksgoodonyou."

           "Thanks,"Iwhispered.Iwentbacktohisside,sittingcross-leggedbesidehim.Ilookedatthelinesinthewoodenfloor.

           "Whatwasallthatfor?"

           "CharliethinksI’msneakingout."

           "Oh."Hecontemplatedthat."Why?"Asifhecouldn’tknowCharlie’smindmuchmoreclearlythanIcouldguess.

           "Apparently,Ilookalittleoverexcited."

           Heliftedmychin,examiningmyface.

           "Youlookverywarm,actually."

           Hebenthisfaceslowlytomine,layinghiscoolcheekagainstmyskin.Iheldperfectlystill.

           "Mmmmmm..."hebreathed.

           Itwasverydifficult,whilehewastouchingme,toframeacoherentquestion.Ittookmeaminuteofscatteredconcentrationtobegin.

           "Itseemstobe...mucheasierforyou,now,tobeclosetome."

           "Doesitseemthatwaytoyou?"hemurmured,hisnoseglidingtothecornerofmyjaw.