"I'm not afraid of you," she whispered. "And that scares me."

"You should be scared," I murmured softly, and I couldn't even force a teasing edge into my voice, for all I could do was stare into her eyes. "I was watching you. I could be anyone, anything. And yet you walk toward me, and you let me touch you … even though you can't see me." I whispered my next words so quietly. "Even though you're blind."

And though I couldn't see her shock — she hid it very well — I could feel it. Her skin, so warm, warmed more, and her face flushed under my fingertips. Her heart raced fast, like mine was.

"How did you know?"

Our words were so quiet, I wondered how we even heard each other.

"You look everywhere, yet you see nothing," I murmured. "Right now, you're looking into my eyes, and though your eyes are a window into your very soul, you see nothing of mine."

Silence followed my words. And as the seconds passed, my awe at the stunning blind girl before me grew. With each second, my heart beat faster, and it became harder and harder to keep my hands from shaking.

Finally, her sweet voice washed over me again.

"Who are you?" she breathed, and I smiled.

"My name is Edward."

"Edward," she repeated, and she tested the word out, saying it over and over, whispering it and smiling as it rolled around on her tongue. "I like it. Edward. It fits you."

I was curious how she could know it fit me if she couldn't see me, but I was afraid of offending her, so I didn't ask. I didn't say anything. My hand was still pressed so lightly to her cheek, and the shivers that ran through me had nothing to do with the cold, February air.

The silence rang once again, but was, once again, broken by the girl before me.

"Can I touch you?" she asked, and she blushed then. I smiled as the color flooded her cheeks. "I see through touch," she explained quickly. "I want to 'see' you. Please."

I nodded, and then realized she couldn't see me. "Yes," I breathed, and I dropped my hand from her face, and in place, I brought hers to mine. Her fingers, so thin, so warm, ran across my forehead, and traced the lines of my eyes. They danced over my nose, making me grin as I tried not to laugh — for it tickled — and traced my soft, pink lips. Her palm cupped my jaw, and then her fingertips tugged lightly at my ears.