e been because I’d forgotten to keep breathing. Again.
It was a face any male model in the world would trade his soul for. Of coursethat might be exactly the
asking price: one soul.
No. I didn’t believe that. I felt guilty for even thinking itand was glad ― as I was often glad ― that I was
the one person whose thoughts were a mystery to Edward.
I reached for his handand sighed when his cold fingers found mine. His touch brought with it the strangest
sense of relief ― as if I’d been in pain and that pain had suddenly ceased.
“Hey.” I smiled a little at my anticlimactic greeting.
He raised our interlaced fingers to brush my cheek with the back of his hand. “How was your afternoon?”
“Slow.”
“For meas well.”
He pulled my wrist up to his faceour hands still twisted together. His eyes closed as his nose skimmed
along the skin thereand he smiled gently without opening them. Enjoying the bouquet while resisting the wine
as he’d once put it.
I knew that the scent of my blood ― so much sweeter to him than any other person’s bloodtruly like
wine beside water to an alcoholic ― caused him actual pain from the burning thirst it engendered. But he
didn’t seem to shy away from it as much as he once had. I could only dimly i,
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