[Roald Dahl,] Bella supplies. [He wrote kids' books. Ostensibly. They're worth reading and my copies should be here, since I didn't bring them to Forks; wanna borrow some?]
"It should have occurred to me before that this would be the sort of thing that would appeal to you," she says, handing over the stack.
"Of these, Danny is least similar," Bella shrugs. "But I liked it. I wasn't born reading Austen and Shakespeare and stuff."
"Nope," Bella says. "Turns out they don't give newborn babies books no matter how pleadingly they ask."
...The mental image of tiny baby Bella waving her arms and imperiously babbling for books is just the cutest thing.
Bella laughs. "My mom's probably going to insinuate that you must be wanted wherever you're staying in a few minutes. Have fun with the books."
He reads The BFG, and thinks it is adorable.
He reads Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and thinks it is just as great as the movie was.
He reads James and the Giant Peach, and thinks it is fucking awesome.
He reads The Witches, and thinks it is amazingly twisted.
He reads Matilda.
He sits for a long time with his eyes closed and his arms wrapped around the book. Then he puts it carefully with the rest in his independently invisible backpack, climbs down to Bella's bedroom window, and knocks.
[What?]
[I just read Matilda and now I really really want a hug,] he says, hovering with his hand on the wall.
Bella opens the window, and steps back and holds out her arms, and reads for more detail.
His thoughts and feelings are all over the place. He thinks Matilda is amazing. He thinks her parents are shitheads. There are ways in which her dad is familiar and ways in which he really isn't. He thinks that if he'd read that book when he was thirteen, his father would be dead by now. He doesn't know whether he wants to laugh or cry, but the second one definitely seems to be winning.
Bella hugs his head, since that's what's near enough, and pets his hair. [Matilda's father doesn't die in the book. Why would yours have if you'd read it earlier?]
If he'd come to it earlier, before he'd had so much time to learn to be afraid... well, putting his dad in jail was never his first idea.
Bella goes on petting him. [You'd most likely have gotten caught. At thirteen, with no magic to cover anything up - you'd still be in juvie, maybe transferred to a regular prison by now.]
Anyway, if all that had happened, he'd never have met Bella. And that would just be immeasurably tragic.
[I love you,] he adds. He really really does. She doesn't have to do this; he could just go off and be sad and conflicted and generally emotional by himself. But she's helping, and he loves her.
Bella leans down to kiss the top of his head. [It's not like I've got anything to do in the morning.]
Bella stands there, petting and reading and waiting in silence.