you were a singer by trade, thriving in concert venues and halls like you were made for it, but every singer needs their musician, and the one your vocal teacher assigned, was fork’s one and only accompanist; edward cullen.

edward was beautiful, beautiful but bothersome. his cocky smile and the way his hands always “accidentally” brushed yours, not to mention that frustrating glint in his eyes. the kind that was almost always followed by a sarcastic comment.

but he played damn good piano.

right now you two were practicing, singing a little operatic tune so edward could warm up his fingers, and so you could warm up your voice.