"Jus- ah!"

Edward Cullen did not scream. That was simply not what he did- he was never startled, or shocked, or even remotely anguished by something he didn't expect. Because he knew everything that was going to happen before it did.

Was telepathy annoying? Yes. Bleak, yes. Useful? Also, resoundingly, yes.

He was never surprised. Or, at least, had not been in the past hundred or so years. God, you were a bastard. You'd been a source of strife- and infatuation- since you'd made your way to Forks.

You- you- he couldn't wrap his head around you. He gave it his all to avoid you, despite the ache that it caused him somewhere deep in his bones. It never seemed to work, namely because he couldn't read your mind.

That led to situations like now.

You'd lightly brushed against him in the hallway. He supposed he'd been too absorbed in a conversation with Alice to notice your scent- that of which was now overwhelmingly pungent, heady, and sweet.

And he'd fucking yelped.

"Um. Sorry," he offered, almost certain that if he'd had the blood, his face would be flaming red right now. "Wasn't- didn't- I did-"

"He didn't hear you," Alice chirruped, completely saving his ass. He nodded in agreement, golden eyes turning sheepishly to the tiled floor.