He wasn’t hard to find.
He stood, his back to me,
waist deep in the midnight water,
staring up at the oval moon.
The pallid light of the moon
turned his skin a perfect white,
like the sand, like the moon itself,
and his wet hair black as the ocean.
He was motionless,
his hands resting palms
down against the water,
the low waves broke around
his as if he were stone.
I started at the smooth lines of
his back, his shoulders, his arms,
his neck, the flawless shape of him….
Bella Cullen, Breaking Dawn, Chapter 5, p. 84
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