Chapter 2

Of course, the way he looked might have had something to do with that. I think I mentioned he was tall and dark. That doesn’t say very much, obviously. Lots of people are tall and dark. Frankenstein’s monster was tall and dark. But Frankenstein’s monster didn’t have well-cut hair that just curled over his collar, or a firm jaw line with just a hint of dark stubble, and he certainly didn’t have teasing brown eyes and a low, mellow voice.

Superficially, you could say Edward and I were dressed the same—jeans and a shirt, with a jacket over the top. Except Edward’s jeans managed to scream ‘designer’ without actually doing anything as common as raising their voice, whereas mine were just moaning tiredly ‘do we really have to do the painting again? And isn’t it time you remembered you own a washing machine?’ Not to mention, his jacket was soft, supple leather that looked like it’d be a joy to touch, while mine was a faded cotton hoodie it’d be a mercy to burn.