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Edward's Twilight

 The world is on it's axis...and reversed? What if: Edward was the vulnerable human? Bella was the powerful vampire? La Tua Cantante was not a problem with strong Bella? What if...there were other problems? Hey, you, yeah, you with the eyes. Come click on this story. It's worth it. Lol. Chapter 10 is up fool!

OKAY! Well, I posted this before, but then I deleted it because I didn't like it anymore. BUT I just re-wrote it, so now I'm reposting it. Let's see how you guys like it now. Yes, the people are out of character, that's why you call it AU: alternate universe! hooray! anway... Disclaimer: It's pretty much all stephenie meyer's...except the idea. I don't own Eddie *hangs head in defeat*

10. Aw, our first fight!

Rating 4.5/5   Word Count 572   Review this Chapter

Edward’s POV:

Once I helped Ms. Morgan situate the rest of the boxes on top of each other, I turned back to Bella, who was looking around the parking lot, anywhere but at me. I frowned—maybe the outfit was a bad idea? Was it my hair? Did she not like me after we talked for so long last night?

I hated being filled with this intensely low self-esteem around her. It was like she was so far above me, I was wasting my time, but I just couldn’t stop from enjoying being in her presence. To me, she looked beautiful— her hair especially. God, I loved that hair!

I felt sort of out-of-bounds while she was so quiet, so I decided to speak up.

“So, are you tired?” I asked as we headed back inside.

“Pardon?” She asked softly, looking up at me.

“I mean, we stayed up pretty late last night, on the phone…” I smiled, taking in her beauty. It was almost too much, but I couldn’t look away.

“Oh, yes, I mean, sleep is…nice,” she frowned, looking away.


Seriously, sometimes she said things like that—things that did not make any sense at all; and I would be left with more questions than answers.

“Yeah, I’m pretty tired too. I don’t know how I’m going to pay attention in English with Mr. Banner, and we’re reading dumb Hemingway.”

Dumb Hemingway?” She almost looked offended, as if I had personally attacked her.

“Well,” I backtracked, confused. “He’s great and all that, but the syntax he uses to write is quite abstract.”

“The complexities of his novels are what make them classics—their purity and truth ring through his words.”

“Considering how much thought he must have put in to actually write them, I’m sure the complexities are worth it, but when you take into account what he’s saying—with the bizarre events and ridiculous characters—“

“Maybe you’re just not reading them correctly,” she snapped.

“Maybe he just didn’t write them correctly,” I snapped right back. Her eyes flashed and she stopped in front of her classroom and looked up at me. It reminded me of when I had first fell into the clearing, and she seemed almost infuriated with me.

“He had a few questionable morals, but when it comes to the pure essence of his literature—“

“The pure essence? Bella, he was a drunk, half-grade writer with no wit, and issues with insanity and bull-fighting.”

His novels created a whole new genre after the post-war romanticism that was occurring, and I for one truly think his writing is more than abstract, it’s—“

“Complicated?” I finished for her. Her eyes narrowed at me and I stared back at her, gold locked with green.

Oh, and I suppose you’ll say the lighting in this hallway really makes your eyes look gold, when just last night I SAW them shift to pure black?! I was thinking insanely.

Just then, the bell rang and I blinked, breaking the eye contact. She rose an eyebrow, turned around and didn’t look at me again, but went and sat down at her desk in the classroom.

Our first fight? And we hadn’t even started dating yet.

I sighed and turned around, heading to my own class. I would die to see that look on her face again—she was so cute when she was angry.