Stealing Isabella

Edward's P.O.V.

I had come over to Bella's house to talk to her father. He invited me into the living room, told me to sit down, then the phone rang. He walked out of the room, leaving me in the living room by myself. I looked around the room and saw a shelf with a bunch of pictures of my Bella on it. I got up and walked over to the shelf. I was amazed at what I saw.

There was one of her, she looked about five, in a princess dress pretending to be Cinderella. She looked so adorable. She had a tiara on her head, and she was wearing a blue dress. The color looked lovely on her, even as a child.

In another, she was riding a bike - she looked about six - and it must have been her first time riding, because it looked like her father was helping her keep her balance. She was in a park that I recognized as the one down the road. These must be pictures of her from her past summers in Forks.

The next one, she was standing on a bed with another girl, both about eight years old, and they had pillows in their hands, ready to hit each other and start a pillow fight. The other girl, I realized, was one of her friends she had told me about - her best friend from Phoenix. Bella had said the girl, Gabby, I think was her name, had been one of her only friends. She also said her other friends weren't as close to her as Gabby was.

In another one, she was out in a sunny yard - she must be in Phoenix - in shorts and a tank top. She looked about seven here, she had blue popsicle all over her face, and was soaking wet. I then noticed in the picture a sprinkler going off in the background. That was why she was wet. I smiled looking at it.

The next one about shocked me to death, no pun intended. She was dancing with her father. She looked about thirteen years old, and it must have been a father – daughter dance. She was smiling up at him, blushing, too. I smiled looking at this one, too.

I looked in closer at one and heard her father's voice behind me say, “Now, ain't she something?”

"Yes, she is quite a beautiful, wonderful, young woman,” I replied. He just stared at me. Then I realized, in his eyes, she would always be doing the things in these pictures. In his eyes, she would always be a little girl.

He slapped me on the shoulder, then called for Bella to come downstairs. She was completely oblivious to me being here.

She ran into the room and hugged her father, and at that moment I could see it, too.

Her as a little girl, playing Cinderella, riding her first bike, bouncing on the bed looking for a pillow fight, running through the sprinkler, with a big popsicle grin, dancing with her dad and looking up at him.

If Charlie gives me a hard time, I couldn't blame the fella.

I'm the one who's stealing Isabella.