I'll Meet You At The

Edward: Bella, Please Stop Taking Your Clothes Off! Bella: Why? Did You Wanna Do That Part?

You Held Out Your Hand, And I Took It Without Stopping To Make Sense Of What I Was Doing. For The First Time In Almost A Century, I Felt Hope.

But If You Ever Bring Her Back Damaged Again - And I Don't Care Whose Fault It Is; I Don't Care If She Merely Trips, Or If A Meteor Falls Out Of The Sky And Hits Her In The Head - If You Return Her To Me In Less Than The Perfect Condition That I Left Her In, You Will Be Running With Three Legs. Do You Understand That, Mongrel?

If There Was A Jane Austen Camp, I Would Go, No Question.

Her Scent Blazed In My Throat And I Was Glad. It Was A Pain That Meant She Was Alive. As Long As I Burned, She Was Safe.