**

"Edward?" I whispered so quietly that even I barely heard the whoosh of air leave my lips. I stilled my hands and waited, holding my breath. 

No response.

"Edward?"

His incredibly strong and still body did not budge. 

"Oh my God," I murmured to myself before leaning down and pressing the lightest kiss possible to the back of his cool neck. A tiny freckle there caught my attention, and I felt compelled to drop another kiss directly on it. 

"I love you so much," I whispered as I pulled back and ran my hand down the expanse of muscle between his shoulder blades. 

I could not believe my eyes, but yes...his back continued to rise in steady and deep breaths while his eyelashes fluttered quickly against his gorgeous cheeks. 

I had seen him this way before. Sometimes, when Edward concentrates intensely, or wants a moment of peace from the assault of everyone's thoughts, he will close his eyes and seemingly tune out everything around him. I've seen him this way while sitting at his piano bench. I questioned him about it once, and he explained that he can hear this music he wants to create in his head, and closing his eyes helps him to envision the notes being penned. I was so impressed and overwhelmed with respect for both his talent and beauty that I immediately vowed to watch him compose as much as possible.

I've also seen him this way when he kisses me. Every so often, he makes the most earth-shattering noises as our lips duel, and I can't help but open my eyes, desperate to see him as he fills my heart with so much love that I wonder if I can survive it. I always find his eyes clenched shut, every ounce of his attention focused on me, and it is amazing. Every worry and trace of pain is wiped away from his angelic face, and I find nothing but serenity and passion in their wake. 

There is no denying the fact that Edward with his eyes closed is simply breathtaking. This is true for many reasons. First, the fact that his eyes are closed allows me to actually concentrate on all of the other equally stunning features of his face. When his piercing, golden eyes are on me, I can't help but look anywhere but into them. Yes, I've focused intently on his lips, nose, jaw line, perfect chin, expressive eyebrows, and forehead for hours on end, but they never really get the respect they deserve, individually, when his eyes are open because they cannot hold a candle to the fire that burns in the windows to the soul that he very much possesses. 

Secondly, when his eyes are closed, his mouth parts instinctively, and that is a beautiful thing. He is amazing when he kisses me, and as soon as his eyelids close, his mouth readies by parting just a bit. His sweet breath falls against me, and I'm a goner. I would like to think that reactions is just for me, but I know that it is a habit but a girl can dream. And then, there's the simple fact that when his eyes close, he simply gives into his desire to feel me. It is a simple fact. Lose one sense, and the others compensate. Well, when Edward chooses to shut off his sight, his already heightened, vampire senses including touch, taste, sound, and hearing all skyrocket. Immediately, his touch deepens, his mouth grows just a bit more urgent, his breathing quickens causing my own to match it, and his responses to my almost imperceptible moans and groans is instantaneous. 

Which brings us back to the present and the remarkable state that he is currently in. His eyes are closed, but it is unlike any other time we have ever shared because this time, he is...asleep. 

"You're sleeping," I found myself continuing to talk to him in hushed and soothing tones, even though I wasn't getting any reaction. 

I guess I was trying to convince myself. 

"But that's impossible," I had to sound and look like an idiot, sitting in my fleece sweats and a cozy sweatshirt as I half straddled my boyfriend's back, while completely dumbfounded at the idea that he may be asleep. 

He does not sleep. Ever. He told me so himself. It is impossible for vampires, yet that fact is doing little to change our current situation.

For just a second, I wondered if I'd somehow hurt him. No way. Weak and human as I am, there's no way I could have done anything to incapacitate this perfect and indestructible creature beneath me. 

Just twenty minutes ago, I found him pinching the bridge of his nose as I sat at my computer working on a final essay for the last English class of my high school career. I turned around to ask him to toss me a book when I caught him mid pinch. He instantly looked guilty. 

"What's the matter, Edward?" I asked, my voice light and full of genuine concern.

"It's nothing. Sorry. I was just trying to think of a good concluding paragraph for you," he answered a little too quickly. A quick smile flashed across his face, but it failed to reach his eyes, and there was no sparkle. 

I frowned. 

"I'm spellchecking. I read you the last paragraph ten minutes ago. You loved it," my response was gentle.

He looked up at me then with a heartbreaking smile full of apologies. 

"I'm so sorry, Bella. I'm just kind of tired, I guess."

"Tired?" I replied with a smirk. 

"Well, you know. Not really tired. It's just...everyone was being so demanding tonight, and no one would give us a minute alone at my house. I know you're stressed out enough about the wedding, and I don't want Alice to overwhelm you. Rosalie just won't knock it off, and I'm worrying about..." His rough voice trailed off as I dropped my spiral notebook full of notes and moved to perch next to him on my bed. 

I gave him the most reassuring and loving smile.

I have been so busy worrying about everything between us and Jacob and the future that I've failed to appreciate the toll it's taking on the only person that really matters at the end of all of it. 

"Edward, turn over."

His beautiful eyebrows drew together in confusion as his hands slid up to encircle my waist ever so lightly. 

"Bella?" He questioned me, while simultaneously rolling over onto his stomach with his arms folded and head resting on his hands. 

"Do you trust me?" I asked, partially joking with him since my less than stellar self-control whenever within a ten foot radius of him is always in question. 

"With everything that I am," He instantly replied, and I felt my resolve to help him strengthen at the intensity of his words. 

"Then don't freak out."

"Bella, what are you going to do?"

Just as he finished his sentence, I reached out with both hands and firmly wrapped the four fingers of each around his shoulders with my thumbs framing his strong, but delicate looking spine, as it peeked from the collar of his t-shirt. 

I did not move at first. I heard him suck in a breath as realization dawned. 

"Will you even be able to feel me?" I whispered as I moved to kneel beside him, hoping for more leverage. 

"Yes, but I'm not sure if..." his voice was laced with emotion, and I thought I heard it shake slightly. 

"Good." With that, I dug my thumbs into his hard flesh and moved my fingers with as much strength as possible. I focused on alternating between deep pressure and kneading to the the lower portion of his neck and just inside of each shoulder. 

My mom used to beg me for back-rubs. She claims that my hands are incredibly strong, and some of the most loving moments I've shared with her involve a movie, popcorn, and back-rubs while wrapped up in a huge blanket on our living room floor. 

Edward pulled me from my thoughts instantly when an almost pained growl tore from his lips at the first real dig of my palm into his back. 

"Ugh, Bella. That's just...it's, please, Bella."

I felt the love for him grow even more at his struggle for words. He always has the perfect words and the perfect order for them. But not now. I did that to him. 

"Please what?"

I slowly trailed my hands down the outer sides of his back, pushing into and rubbing out the stone-like muscles that captivate me each day. 

"Don't stop," he begged, and I felt my eyes fill with tears at his simple request. 

I briefly wondered if anyone has ever touched him like this. Surely, his mother or someone (I shuddered to think that in a flirtatious effort - Tanya or another woman) has soothed him with touch before. Innocent and unassuming caresses can be some of the most powerful. 

My heart broke for him as an endless string of sighs and thank-you's streamed from his lips. 

It encouraged me to work harder. 

"Bella, you don't have to keep going. It was perfect. I'm sure your hands are getting tired."

Not even close. I'd keep it up forever if it makes him feel even a fraction of the contentment he seems to be enjoying. 

"Thank you so much." 

"Shhh, Edward. Don't thank me. Don't think. Don't worry about anything or anyone.  Just relax," I whispered. 

I watched in fascination as his back continuously lost tension as I massaged every bit of back, shoulders, and neck possible. His skin is incredibly soft, and it gives to pressure, but the incredible strength is unmistakable.  I know that it is impenetrable, and granite is an accurate description when referring to its coldness and hard exterior, but when you actually press and exert force, the muscles underneath the surface shift and begin to surrender.

"You're warming up," I murmured, unable to keep the amazement out of my voice.

"You're doing that to me with the heat of your hands."

"Are you okay?"

"Mmm," he offered.

That's new...Edward resorting to unintelligible phrases. 

I continued to rub his back for what felt like ten or fifteen minutes until I paused to glance at my computer and make sure that it hadn't shut down on me when the room grew darker. I hadn't saved the essay. Once I was sure it had only gone into the screen-saver mode, I looked back to his face, and that's when I realized. The "eyes-closed Edward" that greeted me was not one that I have ever seen before. 

He looked even more serene than I had ever thought possible. His mouth was relaxed, but closed, and he hadn't so much as twitched a muscle when the room became noticeable darker. That's when I began calling his name. 

And now, he still hasn't answered, and I'm caught between the desire of wanting to curl up beside him in wonder and shaking him awake. 

I settled on a combination of the two. Slowly, I moved to lay next to him on my side. I reached my hand out and gently ran it through his hair and down to his cheek. My thumb brushed ever so lightly underneath his left eye, trying to erase the hint of blue circling it. 

"Bella?" He sighed, as his eyes slowly opened and focused on me with utter confusion in them.

He almost looked frightened.

"How?" 

"Oh, Edward," I couldn't hep the core-shaking passion and love that flooded through me at the wonder in his voice.

I crashed my lips to his urgently. He immediately met my kisses with his own, his hands snaking out to wrap around me before dragging me flush against his body. He kissed me like that for a few minutes, slowing down towards the end until he was placing butterfly kisses on my eyelids, cheeks, nose, and chin. His thumbs ran in soothing circles against the bare skin of my tummy. 

I pulled back slowly to look into his eyes. 

"What happened?"I asked carefully with a smile.

He stared at me for at least a minute in silence.

"It couldn't be. My temperature can't drop. My heart cannot slow. My brain activity doesn't fluctuate. I can't sleep, Bella." He almost seemed to be talking more to himself than me. 

I ran my hand down his shoulder and over his arm before intertwining our fingers and curling our hands between our bodies. It was too adorable listening to him assert that the miracle I just witnessed couldn't have transpired. I watched it with my own eyes. 

"Did it feel like sleep?" I chanced.

His lips pursed for a moment, and I saw him struggle with himself for a fraction of a second. 

"Edward?"

"I must have just been really relaxed," he reasoned.

I laughed lightly. 

"You were beautiful," I stated. 

He stared at me.

"I wanted to cry at how peaceful you were."

"I was in the meadow with you," he whispered so quietly, but my heart froze.

"You dreamt too," I gasped.

"No."

"But, you just said?"

"Dreams only happen in REM, that's four stages after..."

"Oh, Edward!" I laughed this time, and he looked momentarily shaken. I pressed a kiss to his nose before pulling back to look into his eyes. 

"You run me from your car to our meadow in ninety-three seconds and you doubt that you can't rush through some measly sleep stages to get to the good stuff when it counts?"

Edward stared at me in complete silence as my words lingered. While I was busy thanking God for a small miracle and an amazing evening with my future husband, he slowly sat up and pulled me onto his lap. 

I arched an eyebrow at him, and in that moment, he made the entire night perfection.

"You know what this means, Bella?"

"What, sweetheart?"

"I can tell Emmett I slept with you tonight."

Our laughter only subsided after that when we were both ready to cuddle and ponder the ever growing bond that we are lucky enough to share. 

"I love you," he said as I felt myself drifting off an hour later.

"Love you more."

"Not possible, Bella."

"Mmm, anything is possible with you," I managed before I dreamt the night away myself. And they were beautiful dreams.