So, I've got writer's block at the moment, and I'm just really busy with summer school, skating, and cello, so I haven't updated in a long time. I'm really sorry. But to write out my writer's block, here's a cute little one shot for you.

Edward had to, once again, go hunting. To keep me from going insane, Alice dragged me to the Cullen's, and played board games with me. Emmett joined us for Twister. God! For some people whose body are so stone-like hard, they are really good at that game! And I mean really good. Emmett's right hand, and left feet were on reds, and his left hand and on a blue, his right leg on a green. Alice was on the bottom of him, her hands and feet on impossible places, too. Me? I was out way before that. Alice and Emmett managed to play half an hour of Twister after I lost my balance on the second round before Rosalie came over, and started yelling at Emmett to get his ass to the garage.

And then, Alice waxed my legs. It was a very painful process. She claimed that she is better than any professional spa-person, but I highly doubt anyone else can inflict more pain on legs and arms. Thankfully, I convinced her out of doing a Brazillian wax. Oh, the pain..

After the human's dinner – Alice had pizza delivered. I think she tipped the cute delivery guy too much, he was stumbling after receiving the money. Or maybe it was just because he's never seen a girl so stunning, and charming before.. she did give him an Alice smile – I finally shook Alice off, and went off to Edward's bedroom, claiming I was tired. She looked accusing, but something in my expression made her not stop me.

I brushed my teeth, and changed into my pajamas. I bid everyone good night, in my normal voice, but I don't doubt they can hear me, and closed Edward's door behind me.

I was going to flop down on the bed, when I noticed a little worn white book on Edward's couch. I wasn't sure if he would mind me taking a peek, but Edward said he would be back in the morning, so I went over, and picked it up. What he doesn't know won't hurt him. Although, he'll find out soon enough anyway.

The book seemed like a diary of some sort. The cover was made of.. I didn't know what it was. I seemed very old, like it belonged to Edward back when he was human. I flipped to the first page. There, in no doubt Edward's handwriting, was the letters, "E.A.M.C-I.M.S"

I was sure it stands for Edward Anthony Masen Cullen, and I recognized my initials, Isabella Marie Swan.

He wrote on the second page a short poem.

"Deep, chocolate brown.

When you're looking at me,

it feels like you're looking

at my soul.

My immortal, dead, nonexistent soul.

It feels like you love it.

Can I believe it?"

Wait- was he writing about me? "Chocolate brown" That seemed like an appropriate description for my eyes..

His immortal, dead, nonexistent soul? What a strange oxymoron.

"It feels like you love it" Well, how could I not love his soul? No matter what he says about himself, I will continue to believe that he is a good person. And he does have a soul..

I flipped the page. Another short poem.

"Thinking of you,

my fingers run across the ivory keys.

Thinking of you,

the pen flies across this page.

Thinking of you,

my heart soars."

They were both short, but so sweet. I can't believe how good at this he was. I swallowed down tears, and read the third page- another poem. It was longer than the last two.

"Not possible.

Oh, those three words.

Simple enough,

easy to say,




Oh, why is it so hard for me to choke them out?"

I smiled to myself, and flipped the page.

"You soft, warm cheeks.

I love it when you blush scarlet.

It's irresistible, impossible

to not be touched.

Don't hide them.

Let me spoil them."

I'm pretty sure he wasn't just writing about my cheeks in that last line. I pouted to myself, and turned to the fifth page. I was a really long poem down the center. The length captivated my interest immediately.

"A single rose

in a crystal vase.

Sunlight bouncing off

sending rainbows sparkling.

The clear night,

shooting stars

not a single cloud

the moon shinning.

From a bird's eye view

the ocean on a bright,

sunny day

like diamonds on the water.

Yet nothing can compare

with you, to me."

This time, I couldn't stop the tears from flowing out. It was so, so sweet. I can't believe he would write something like that about me.. Me! I sighed, flipping the page again.

"'Till death parts us.

Such infamous words.

But I would soon follow you after-

be patient, my love

I jest you not

We won't be apart any longer."

I wasn't sure, but he must have written this last year.. when he.. I couldn't bring myself to think about it. I was missing his so much right now. I missed his arms, granite-like, but soft at the same time. That breath taking smile.. his sweet words..

There was one more page writing on after.

"You're in my heart

every ticking second.

You star in my dreams

It seemed unfinished, like someone had interrupted him. I was confused about the dreams part..

Just then, I heard someone day behind me,

"Snooping around, Bella?"

I turned around, dropping the book. I flung myself at Edward, who stood in the doorway. He looked stunned, probably at my tears, and amused at the same time. "What's the matter?" he said in a soft voice. I wiped my tears on his shirt.

"It's just so sweet." I mumbled, embarrassed.

I heard him chuckle. "You know, I never got to finish that poem."

I straightened up, looking at his light butterscotch eyes. "What do you mean by 'dreams'?" I asked, tilting my head.

"Silly Bella. You don't have to sleep to dream." He answered simply, creating more answers in my head. "But it's late. Go to sleep."

I yawned, when I remembered that it was bed time. "Okay." I said. Edward then picked me up, and put me on the bed, inside the covers. Then, he kissed me. His kiss was sweeter than his words, if possible, and it made my heart thump with joy.

All but too soon, he broke it, chuckling. "You know, I haven't written in a long time. I should really start dating my poems. That last one, about my dreams, was written yesterday, almost a year after the last one,"

He pursed his lips, thinking, deliberating whether or not to say what he was about to say. "You know, I should write about your heart. How it flutters."

My eyes began to drop, as he continued, smiling.

"How lovely, the sound. At the slightest touch, it flies like a humming bird's wings," He smiled bigger. "The sound of joy, like you are happy. The sound that makes me happy, aswell." He continued, and I fought for consciousness. "The sound of life." He finished, kissing me on the forehead. He then hummed my lullaby until I fell asleep.


Cute enough? Yes, I wrote the poems myself. I was in Math class, bored, when I wondered what it would be like if Edward wrote poems. So I started writing. Within fifteen minutes, I've written a whole page, front and back, or poems that would be in Edward's point of view. I wasn't really thinking of time, and order, but I think I've placed them well.

If you liked it, review!