Hate Is A Passionate Emotion.

He Thinks Things Through Too Much.

His Gold Eyes Grew Very Soft. “you Said You Loved Me.” “you Knew That Already,” I Reminded Him, Ducking My Head. “it Was Nice To Hear, Just The Same.” I Hid My Face Against His Shoulder. “i Love You,” I Whispered. “you Are My Life Now,” He Answered Simply. There Was Nothing More To Say For The Moment. He Rocked Us Back And Forth As The Room Grew Lighter.

He Looks At You Like... Like You're Something To Eat.

I'd Never Understood How Carlisle Was Able To Do That - Ignore The Blood Of His Patients In Order To Treat Them. Wouldn't The Constant Temptation Be So Distracting, So Dangerous? But Now, I Could See How, If You Were Focusing On Something Else Hard Enough, The Temptation Was Be Nothing At All.

Some Of The Memories Were Not Clear - -dim Human Memories, Seen Through Weak Eyes And Heard Through Weak Ears: The First Time I'd Seen His Face... The Way It Felt When He'd Held Me In The Meadow... The Sound Of His Voice Through The Darkness Of My Faltering Consciousness When He'd Save Me From James... His Face As He Waited Under A Canopy Of Flowers To Marry Me... Every Precious Moment On The Island... His Cold Hands Touching Our Baby Through My Skin.