The full moon was high in the Brooklyn sky, not that most people noticed it through lights of the city. But Edward noticed it. He saw it, as it rose above the rooftops near the train station. Huge and yellow. It was almost time for the late night downtown train to arrive—her train. He climbed from the window of his apartment and made his way along the side of the building, then up to the roof. He could hear the minds of those around him. He knew no one had seen him. No one had ever seen him, not the way he really was anyway. Even those that caught a glimpse of him had denied it to themselves. In their minds, they placed a fire escape where there was none.
Edward always found it strange how the human mind simply placed things in an image, when there was no other logical explanation. There was no fire escape to the roof, but they still saw one. They always saw one. He laughed to himself, and hurried to his place on the roof. From there, he would be able to see her as she got off the train and walked home. He would watch. Only watch.
He stood tall, as the moonlight made his pale white skin shine. Nothing like the way he would glisten in the sunlight, but still, his skin had a glow to it. "Like a shiny new dime," his mother would have said. Not his vampire mother Esme, but his human mother. But she had been gone for close to a century now. Dead in the influenza epidemic, along with his father. Again he laughed to himself. He felt good tonight. He had fed earlier, and was well sated. Then he heard it—the train.
And the fear started. For as long as he had watched her, he still worried that she may not be there. "Will I see you tonight?" He whispered to himself. "Will you see me?" Every night it was the same. Every night since the first time her saw her, he waited, and watched. He followed her, first out of curiosity, then because he feared for her safety. He convinced himself that he was keeping her safe. He knew it was a lie, but he didn't care. Anything to be near her.
Edward watched as the train ground to a stop, and it's passengers began to disembark. The train was full of girls coming home from work at the factories, or from the streets. Their minds swirled with their hopes and dreams, of breaking out of this place—this neighborhood, this life-into something better. To another world. Edward noticed that the train was fuller than usual. More minds clamoring for something better than this life they led.
He had been down in the crowd the first time he caught her scent; the first time he saw her. He had waved his hands and the girls had moved out of his way, scattering, to leave him a clear path. Never coming within two feet of him. They had nothing for him. Not even their blood could capture his dead heart. But her. She was the rose among the thorns. Every night Edward stood his vigil, searching for her. Waiting for her. He knew where she sat on the train. Always the same seat, her profile framed by the window. For a moment, he allowed himself to dream. To wonder, if she knew about him, would she choose him? Could he ever be her only one? Then he returned to reality, and searched for her again.
Edward spotted her as she came off the train. He took a deep breath and tried to pull her scent from the stink of the city. Even from this distance, he was able to pull just a hint of her essence into his nostrils. He smiled as her scent filled him with desires he thought long dead, just like his heart.
She was moving. Edward watched as she walked down the street to her home. She lived close. Down the street one block, turn left then over two blocks. He jumped from rooftop to rooftop, as he followed her home. He knew the route well. He had been watching her for months. He knew her street. He knew the short wrought iron fence and rusty hinged gate. He had followed the steps to her door. He had been in her home, bathing in her scent. Later he had felt guilty for entering her home without her knowledge, but he had to acclimate himself to her scent. It was so strong; it drew him to her. Held him fast. He visited her home often.
