Title- A Blooming Edwardian Summer

Author- 4give4get

Rated- T

Pairing- Eventual BellaxEdward

Note- Not AU!

Disclaimer- Don't own.

Serena- Thanks so much for the reviews! I am sorry this update took a while, because I had to wait until I finished my Jane Eyre chapter to then delete it and use this word document. That's how I write four stories at the same time without making too many different ones—eats up WAY too much space on the memory otherwise.

Wow, enough of that, please read, thanks if you reviewed!

Ill…

Bella.

The scene from that horrible afternoon played and replayed in Edward's mind from the point to where it was embarrassing, and then to the point where it was maddening. He could only think one word in the process: Why? Why had this happened to him? Most people live normal lives. Even the unlucky few who would have to deal with being a vampire weren't tortured this much. He clutched his forehead and turned over on his bed.

When he'd first come in the doorway to see his only reason for living, words could not express his joy. Not if he picked up a pen and wrote pretty things for the rest of his life. He thought he would be complete then. Persephone was right. He would see Bella again, She had been sent to 1918 as well, and she had found him.

Impulse guided him to approach her and kiss her like he'd wanted to the whole time he'd spent back in his original time. And he was so sure that she would reply with the same eagerness he felt so deep in his own soul, until she shoved him back with more force than he would have assumed she had. Well, never mind—he was human now. And then she spat swear words at him in Italian and called him worse than Patrick Mallon, before storming out of the room.

Edward could honestly say that he had not been expecting that. Bella was not Bella. Somehow. She was someone different. She had been born into this time and lived her own life in 1918. She knew nothing about the future and nothing about Edward. Well, except for that he kissed her… Which is why the thought of the scene is embarrassing and maddening for him. What she must think of him now… And perhaps rightly so.

Edward's mother was quite shocked with his behavior. He had never acted that way before. He was usually quite a gentleman to girls. She than assumed that because she was the maid and an immigrant that he thought her less and gave him a lecture on that head. Of which he simply listened to while staring at his feet, wondering, just wondering what would happen next.

Bella would likely never forgive him. Not with a first impression like the one he had just made. And then he began to think… how did he even know her name was still Bella? She was likely a completely different person. A different environment and different experiences than that of the Bella he knew. There was no way they could have much more in common than their appearance.

How stupid he had been to actually believe that a girl born in 1901 same as him would be the equivalent to a girl born in the 1990s! So in a sense, he would never see his Bella again, unless Persephone randomly decided to change her mind—which he could not see happening. So… what did he do about that? Did he just give up on ever being in love again? Or did he try to see just who this Bella was? There was no doubt they looked identical to each other. Of course, this girl was dirtier and shabbier and had a much harder look in her eye.

Edward had noticed something more about this Bella. When you looked long enough into those dark, hard eyes, you saw ambition, grit, and strength in them. She had been beaten into such a disposition by life. He was not quite looking into the eyes of Isabella Marie Swann anymore, but a walked-on, hardened girl he did not even know. That probably should have been his first clue.

She was Italian. Edward tried to recall if Bella had come from Italian descent, but never remembered her mentioning anything of the sort. What sort of life had she had? If it had been the one of a typical immigrant girl, then the look she had would have been well explained. But who was she? Who would Bella have been if she had lived in 1918? How did she live? Where did she live? Edward was suddenly so overcome with curiosity with this new Bella, that he was determined to see her again.

And perhaps see if he could be charismatic enough to make her forgive him for his previous actions. Perhaps she would. And perhaps she would talk to him next time. And tell him about herself. And maybe, just maybe, be the girl he loved, even if she would be different. Would he have loved Bella any less if she had been forced through such things and came out with the same personality as this Bella? No. There was no future Bella now. She would never exist. This was Bella now. And Edward quite simply had to win her back. At literally any costs.

.x.X.x.

At first, Edward realized that both Bella and his mother had arranged a new working schedule that happened to have her coming a half an hour after he'd left for school, and her leaving a half an hour before he came home again. How very clever of them both… Which only meant that Edward would have to skip school for a chance to talk to her. It was not a big deal, then. Edward had graduated high school too many times to count, and he was quite glad to realize that after this school year was over, he'd never be a high school student again. Thank God.

And he passed every test with flying colors. He didn't need to show up. So he complained of being sick. Mrs. Masen knew school was pretty much done for him anyway, and likely just could not think of a reason to get him out of the house for Bella. As she left the room, Edward knew that she would do everything in her power to keep Bella from coming upstairs to his room.

He could hear her talking from downstairs, "Oh, no need to dust Edward's room today, Isabella."

Her name is Bella, he mused.

"Why is that, ma'am?" he heard a girl with a heavy Italian accent wonder.

"Uhhh," his mother trailed off, "he rearranged his room last night—that ought to have picked up most of the dust. Save it for tomorrow, dear."

"If you insist," Bella said, obviously not quite understanding what her mistress was saying, but not having the place to contradict her. Edward knew that's not what most housemaids were like. If you employer told you not to do something—you simply did not do it.

He heard her climb the stairs and even walk past his bedroom door. Edward silently rose from his desk chair and opened the door once he was sure she would be far away enough not to be within earshot of the creaking hinges. He treaded lightly to his parents' bedroom and saw that Bella was indeed running a dust rag over his father's writing desk. Her back was to him and all he saw was a smallish girl in a cheaply-cut black dress with a long, dark-brown braid stretching down her back with a white scarf tied over her head.

"Excuse me, miss," he began, stepping into the room. She jumped, almost dropped her rag and then turned to face him, her face turning white as soon as she saw who it was confronting her.

"Voi ancora?" she demanded, "Want to you want with me?"

"An apology," he said, trying to sound smooth, "… if you would accept mine."

"Oh, so now you know what you've done wrong!" she spat, and turned back to the desk she was dusting, "You think I have no reason to refuse you, just because I am a maid?"

Edward cringed at her harsh words, "No—I won't try to explain my actions. They were wrong. Please accept my apology, miss."

"So now it is miss with you?" she kept up her anger, "Whatever happened to stupid Bella, hmm? And I suppose your mother put you up to this—the kind woman that she is. I cannot believe she produced a son like you!"

"My mother thinks I'm lying sick in my room," he informed her.

"You lied just so you could tell me this?" she stared at him like he was stupid, "What is wrong with you? Why do not you leave me alone?"

How was he supposed to explain that he had been immortal, lived in the future, fell in love with a different version of her, and now desperately needed her back? This was getting even a little too complex for him to comprehend. Edward shook his head.

"I just don't like to think about how we got off on the wrong foot. Please forgive, miss," his voice sounded more desperate than he had intended and realized it was because he truly was desperate. Acknowledging this, he dropped down to his knees, "You don't understand—I would do anything in the world for you."

She only stared at him with much more confusion. Well, how could she not? How could a boy just randomly be desperately in love with her? He realized it would all make little sense to her.

"Fine," she did eventually give in, likely just so he would stop talking, "Fine, I forgive you, now stand up and go back to bed before you embarrass yourself more with crazy ranting—you really are ill."

"No," Edward disagreed, standing back up, "I am feeling the best I have in days. Now, allow me to introduce myself. I am Edward Masen."

She stared at him with her dark eyes and finally said, "Isabella Giordano."

Edward found that rather interesting. So Bella had kept her first name, but was now called an entirely different last name. But he grinned, glad that she was speaking to him with other words than angry ones.

"And what may I call you?" he asked.

"I would prefer you didn't call me anything, and just went back to bed," she told him honestly.

"Please," he whispered, and then began to drop back to his knees, but she held him up and glared.

"Do not do that again!" she demanded.

"Answer my question, please?" Edward breathed, wondering just what was coming over him. He had intended to actually seem like a normal person to her, so that she would stop trying to avoid him, but as soon as he was actually standing before her, he turned into some lovesick fool and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

"Isabella," she said, "Call me Isabella, because that is my name."

"Not Bella?" he asked, rather confused on that point. Wouldn't both Bellas want the same nickname?

"No!" she snapped, "Only a girl's sisters may call her by a… what is the English word? Pet name. And definitely not boys she has just met!"

"Very well, Isabella," Edward bowed his head, "I shall do whatever you wish me to."

She gave him the strange look again, and then said, "I wish you would leave me alone."

"Ah, anything but that, darling Isabella."

"You are ill, go back to bed," she said through clenched teeth.

"As you wish," Edward grinned and gallantly bowed to her, "But I will try—try to stay away from you if that is what you want, but just know that I may not be very successful."

And with that said he turned and walked back to his own bedroom and paced about wondering what he had just said to that poor girl. She thought he was ill. Well, that is really no wonder. But he did mean everything he said to her. He was dead serious. The attachment he felt towards her was the strongest thing he'd ever felt. He really would do anything she told him to.

"I really would," he mused aloud.

With that, he stayed in his room the rest of the day, Mrs. Mallon bringing him meals. He only left once he heard Isabella close the front door. As much as he would have wanted to get up and follow Isabella everywhere she went, he did not. He would have wanted to hold her and kiss her, but just watching her would have been enough. But he did not. He did not because darling Isabella wished it so.

.x.X.x.

Isabella ran up the street to the tenant building and stomped up the cracking stairs to the Giordano girls' room. The rats that roamed the hallways all ran to greet her, for none of them were scared of humans. She did her best avoid them by kicking at them and running ahead of them. She closed the door and shuddered, hoping no new ones would come down the pipes in the night. Ah, well if any of them do, Rocco will be happy to eat them, she thought as she stooped to stroke the ears of the orange tabby cat they now kept. Stella had instantly named him Rocco and he gladly did eat many of the rats that found their way into the room. He was still a young cat, and still rather small. Isabella was sure he would grow more before he was an adult.

"Bella-Bella, it is a good thing you are back!" Stella leapt from the bed to the floor in front of her, "We were just worrying about how you were with that horrible son!"

"Oh, him?" Isabella sighed, "I tell you—I have never met anyone stranger. I have more to tell now. He was ill, yes? And then he confronts me and asks I accept an apology?"

"Did you?" Stella wanted to know, from where she sat reading a newspaper.

"Well, he got down on his knees and started begging… so yes."

Both of her little sisters were floored. Their eyes went wide, as did their mouths in utter shock. Neither of them had heard of such a thing! Silvana was thrilled by it, and Stella scandalized.

"You mean that?" Silvana gushed, "That I would have liked to see! Then what happened?"

"He could not have been thinking straight…" Stella pointed out.

"That's what I said," Isabella humphed, sitting on the bed next to her, "His mother said he was ill."

"Awww," Silvana sighed, "I was hoping he would go madly in love with you and insist that if you would not have him, he would run away from home and become a beggar…"

"How realistic is that?" Stella demanded.

"It was just wishful thinking," Silvana retorted and lifted Rocco onto her lap and stroked his chest.

Stella shook her head and continued reading her newspaper.

"And then what happened, Bella-Bella?" Silvana asked.

"He said he would do whatever I wished he would," Isabella recalled his exact words, "So I said I wished he would leave me alone."

Silvana laughed and Stella shook her head again, this time with a more sad emotion.

"How cruel! But funny too, sorella, don't get me wrong…"

"He really was quite ill, wasn't he?"

"Oh, bother Edward Masen, I cannot believe we are even having a conversation about this!"

"But Bella-Bella, it is not every day that one of us has a boy randomly in love with us. Was he seriously all that desperate?"

"Yes," Isabella put her face in her hands, sparing no details.

Silvana continued to laugh, and Stella only shook her head sadly as the story unfolded. Isabella didn't even know what to think anymore. Nothing much more came to mind other than, What an odd, odd boy Edward Masen is…

End Chapter

Serena- Over and out.

Please review, though.