"I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not," Edward smiled. "Just tell me something..." He reached up to run the back of his hand over her cheek. "What are you going to do when this is all over?"
"You okay?" Edward whispered, shifting himself more to the side in case he'd landed on her back. "You look puzzled."
Edward swallowed, and then brought her lips to his, kissing her as hard as he could. He wrapped his arms around her tighter, pulling her back onto the bed and laughing against her mouth, unable to stop himself from grinning. "You don't know how... happy that makes me feel," he whispered on her cheek. "Seriously."
"Do I have to persuade you to speak your mind?" Edward asked, putting his palm to her face, bringing her lips close to his. "Or should I say 'speak your heart,' because your thoughts are wild enough right now."
Edward swallowed a laugh. "What?" he asked. "Don't cut yourself off; you should able to talk to me... even if you blush redder than someone like you should be able to!" He couldn't stop his grin now.
"Am I helping at all?" Edward asked, pushing his forehead against hers. "I'd like to sit next to you in one of the carriages, if you don't mind."
"Stop it," Edward demanded quietly, rubbing her back and running his fingers lightly over the bandaging around her torso. "No crying... how's your unnaturally-fast healing process coming along, dear?"
"No," Edward muttered, now angry with himself that he'd said anything. "Look," he began, going over to Hannah and, smiling, picked her up off the bed and sat down again with her in his lap. "It's okay. I don't want you to blame yourself. Understand?" He caught her chin and made her look at him. "Promise me you won't feel bad. Believe me, that the last thing we both need."
"She's not my sister anymore," Edward murmured, trying to convince himself. His grip on Hannah loosened as he thought. "The rest are dead... you were there when he shot them, he told me..."
"You think I do?" Edward replied, a little shocked. "And I know it's hard for you," he added, his voice now a whisper again. "But please believe me it's not... uncomplicated for me, either."
Edward sighed, shaking a wet lock of hair out of his eyes. "This may so absoutely stupid, but I'll say it anyway: your thoughts in your head aren't always the true feelings of your heart. And, unfortunately, out of the two, I can only see your mind. The rest is up to what you actually say aloud to me. Does that make sense?"
"You'd be surprised," Edward smiled, lowering his voice. "And," he added, "I even though I can tell what's in your head, there's something you can keep from me, depending on whether you've made up your mind or not."
Edward smirked. "Are you really saying that you're not tempted by me at all?" he muttered. "There goes my self-esteem."
"Hey," Edward laughed, trying not to chuckle under his breath. "Let's not worry about things like that that can't be changed. I don't mean to dismiss your feelings, but I'm actually... happy for you, in a way when you do... sorry," he muttered, fading off, knowing that he must sound stupid. Why does she put up with me? he thought suddenly. With all her negative emphasis on what she is, how can she ever dream of being around me once this Dracula trip is over?
Edward grinned. "Not yet," he whispered, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her close to him. "We've got to sit in a cramped, bumpy carriage for hours with obnoxious people, and you're suddenly in a hurry to go? Are you angry with me?"
Edward smirked at her thoughts, knowing there was no way to pretend he hadn't heard her. "Thank you," he chuckled, playfully throwing his damp shirt at her. "Look at you!" he exclaimed, smiling. "That's quite the color in your skin!" He touched the side of her pink cheek. "I would never guess you were anything but a cute, human girl if I didn't know any better."
Edward turned on the faucets as hard as he could, happily stripping off all of his dirty clothes. I can't wash them in enough time, he thought, stepping under the cool water and sighing. At least... yes, I can wash my shirt. That will do me some good... Edward took his time, enjoying the water and letting Hannah do what she must, giving her enough time. He finally stepped out of the water, dried off, slipped back into his pants and boots, and then grabbed his shirt. He placed it under the water, letting all the dirt and sweat run off it as best as he coud. The rough, small bar of soap didn't help much. Edward drained all the water out of his shirt, turned the faucet off, and shook it out as best as he could. It won't be dry for a while... he thought. Well, Hannah will have to deal with no shirt and some muscles to look at for a little bit... He smirked to himself as he shook out his hair and ran a hand through it in the mirror. Edward smiled at himself and then opened the bathroom door.
"Take your time," Edward said, standing from the bed and, not really thinking, leaned down to kiss her forehead gently. "I'll be back in a little bit." He walked over to the door that led into the small bathroom and shut the door behind him, sighing when he saw the faucet and the cold, clean water that would come from it.
"Well, then, I won't look," Edward said, giving up with her apetite. "Actually, I'll skip into the bathroom if you're feeling strong enough to eat. There is a nice amount of surprisingly running water in this nasty old inn, and I'll take advantage of that."
Edward shook his head. "I know, but I still feel like I could have done more. Van Helsing," he added, laughing, "made me get rid of the body. Anyway, you should eat something, no matter how bad it may seem. Or... I could go find something more your... taste, shall we say?"
