The Other Twin

20

Edward's POV -
We walk out of screen 6 hand in hand, talking.
"That was really good!"
"Yes it was." I smile down at him.
"Did you like the popcorn?"
"Of course. It was sweet. And salty."
"Tell me I didn't eat the entire thing of popcorn."
"Don't worry, you didn't." I did eat some. But it tasted like a sweeter version of what any normal food tasted like, "Are you hungry?"
"A little. Why? Are you?"
"I was wondering if you wanted to go to a restaurant or something."
"Yeah. Okay." He smiles in a different way to the way he did when we left the theatre. I love it when he smiles like that. Sort of shy. I smile as well, and kiss him. He blushes.

Rory's POV -
I hear his deep laughter next to me.
"Shut up."
"I think it's cute."
"What do you fancy for dinner?" I ask, trying to change the subject.
"What do you want?"
"No. The film and popcorn was my choice. Restaurant is your choice."
"And I say that my choice is your choice. So what do you choose?"
"You are incredibly stubborn. You know that right?"
"I have been told."
"Fine. You like Italian?"
"Sure. Get in the car."
"Can I drive?" He smiles and kisses me.
"Nope." I sigh and get in the passenger seat. I never drive. He drives me to Bella Italia.
"Y'know, it would feel less like you were my taxis driver if I got to drive."
"Not going to happen."
I roll my eyes as we walk into the restaurant.
"Do you have a table for two?" my boyfriend asks the maitre d.
"Yes. We do. Follow me."
He leads us to a table in the corner and gives us menus.
"Someone will be over to take your order." With that he leaves us.
"What do you want?" I ask.
"I'm not all that hungry."
"Eat something. For me."
"Do not do that."
"Do what?"
"Give me all that for me stuff. I can't resist."
"Well, I'm having spaghetti bolognase."
"Then I will have Arancini balls."
"That's a starter."
"It's something."
"Fine. But you have to have a drink."
"Compromise accepted. I'll have whatever you're having."
"Pink lemonade."
"Okay never mind. I'm having coke."
"Hello. I will be your waitress for today. Are you ready to order?" the waitress asks Edward.
"Yes we are. I'll have the Arancini balls and coke."
"And I'll have pink lemonade and Spaghetti bolognaise."
"Is it possible to get them to come out at the same time?"
"Okay handsome," she winks at my boyfriend. She comes back minutes later with our drinks, but "accidentally" drops the tray after taking off the glasses, bending down in an attempt, I assume, to look sexy. I don't think it worked.

It takes 20 minutes-ish for the food to come out. We talk for a while until the winky waitress comes back and gives us our food. She winks again and walks away, making a deal of shaking her ass as she walks away.
"So this is what it's going to be like dating you."
"What?"
"You can't tell me you haven't noticed. She was practically drooling at you. And I'm pretty sure she slipped her number under your plate."
"Yes, she has. I suppose I have a certain charm, but I meant what I said. I only have eyes for you."
"I doubt that," I say, looking down into my bowl, mixing the pasta. He takes my hand under the table.
"Hey, love, look at me. I like you. Only you. Not some flirty waitress. You." I blush.
"There we go."
"Shut up, Cullen."
"You've finished your drink. Do you want some of mine?"
"You drink it. I haven't seen you eat or drink anything today."
"If you insist."
"I do."
He let's go of my hand and moves it on top of the table. I retake it and smile. God I like him. Really like him. Even if he has really cold skin. He's my boyfriend. And I couldn't be luckier.

We leave the restaurant after he pays for our meal, much to my protest. And drives me home. At a frightening speed. Honestly, who taught this boy how to drive. It's terrifying to look at the speed-o-meter. He had enough sense to slow down once we go to Forks, particularly once we got to my road. He pulls up outside my house and kisses me once more, before I leave the car. I watch him drive off down the road, before walking into my house, grinning like an idiot. Dad's sitting in front of the TV when I walk in. He turns to me when he hears me.
"So, how was it?"
"Dad."
"What? I need to know if he was good to you  or if I need to find a reason to arrest him."
"It was great. He's great."
"So. Is there a second date coming?"
"Dad!"
"What? Is being interested in my son's personal life a crime?"
Sighing, I answer, "Yes. I'm pretty sure there's a second date happening."
"Okay. Just remember, if you need me to, I know where my shotgun is and how to dispose of a body."
"Dad!"
"Just. Be careful. I don't want him to break your heart."
"He won't. He's good. And has two sisters who will kill him if he hurts me before you could get your hands on him."
"Good. Good. Now go. Rave about your date on the phone to your best friend. Be a teenager."
"Night dad."
"Night kid."