Twilight (Twilight, #1)

by Stephenie Meyer

Sometimes I wondered if I was seeing the same things through my eyes that the rest of the world was seeing through theirs.

I was still tongue-tied whenever I pictured his perfect face.

I wasn’t used to being taken care of, and Charlie’s unspoken concern caught me by surprise.

I

was completely absorbed, except for one small part of my mind that wondered what Edward was doing now, and trying to imagine what he would be saying if he were here with me.

“Another legend claims that we descended from wolves—and that the wolves are our brothers still. It’s against tribal law to kill them.

“Your people call them vampires.”

Nothing had changed in this forest for thousands of years, and all the myths and legends of a hundred different lands seemed much more likely in this green haze than they had in my clear-cut bedroom.

Edward Cullen was not… human. He was something more.

Because when I thought of him, of his voice, his hypnotic eyes, the magnetic force of his personality, I wanted nothing more than to be with him right now.

Not while the rain made it dim as twilight under the canopy and pattered like footsteps across the matted earthen floor.

“It doesn’t matter to me what you are.”

“You are the most important thing to me now. The most important thing to me ever.”

“Twilight, again,” he murmured. “Another ending. No matter how perfect the day is, it always has to end.” “Some things don’t have to end,”