The house was still too quiet. Too new. The second night here, but the first time you and Edward were sleeping in your own bed—married now, finally, yet everything still felt unfamiliar.

Edward moved across the room, slow and methodical, flicking off the last light.

“Wait,” you said, not panicked, just firm. “Can you keep it on? Or bring a night light or something?”

He paused in the dark. “You want a night light?” His tone wasn’t mocking, just surprised.

“I don’t like the dark,” you said simply, sitting up. “I never have.”

“You’re a vampire,” he muttered, climbing into bed. “You see perfectly in the dark.”

“I know,” you shot back, “but it’s not about that. It’s just… too quiet. Too empty. It feels like the walls are closing in.”

He sighed softly, resting back on the pillows. “It’s just easier to sleep without lights. The dark makes everything calm.”

“Not for me.”

A beat of silence. Then the mattress shifted as he turned toward you.

“You want a lamp on all night?”

“Yes,” you said without hesitation.

He didn’t argue. He just reached for you under the covers, pulling you into his arms, chest to chest. “Fine,” he said quietly. “I’ll get you ten lamps if it helps.”

His fingers slid gently along your spine. “I just like the dark because it makes the world shut up for a while. But if it makes you uncomfortable, we’ll adjust.”

His voice dropped, low and steady. “You don’t have to be afraid. I’m here. You’re not alone.”

You exhaled slowly against him, muscles easing a little as his arms wrapped tighter around you.

“Still want the light?” he asked, voice softer now.