Seventeen

November had swept in with a series of flurries, but all the snow melted just slightly before the next snowfall happened. I had had a series of awkward conversations with my father about boys, and about Edward specifically. He insisted on meeting Edward, and of course Edward was all for it. "What am I even supposed to call you." I asked Edward with a panicked gaze. We were sitting on the sofa at his house, Les Mis was playing in the background and it was early, Fontaine hadn't even sold her hair yet.

"Well what do you want to call me?" He looked down curiously, I was nestled into his chest comfortably, cocooned in a blanket because the whole freezing to death thing was a mood killer.

I played with the edge of my sweatshirt sleeve as I thought about it. I wasn't really sure what I wanted to call him, the age gap between us was a tad concerning, even if we just went off the age he stopped at he still had two years on me, and I had only recently turned 15. As far as the school was concer