Breaking Dawn - Stephenie Meyer [31]
I spoke to my brothers, too. They told me it was a very great pleasure. Second only to drinking human blood. A line creased his brow. But Ive tasted your blood, and there could be no blood more potent than that. I dont think they were wrong, really. Just that it was different for us. Something more.
It was more. It was everything.
That doesnt change the fact that it was wrong. Even if it were possible that you really did feel that way.
What does that mean? Do you think Im making this up? Why?
To ease my guilt. I cant ignore the evidence, Bella. Or your history of trying to let me off the hook when I make mistakes.
I grabbed his chin and leaned forward so that our faces were inches apart. You listen to me, Edward Cullen. I am not pretending anything for your sake, okay? I didnt even know there was a reason to make you feel better until you started being all miserable. Ive never been so happy in all my life-I wasnt this happy when you decided that you loved me more than you wanted to kill me, or the first morning I woke up and you were there waiting for me Not when I heard your voice in the ballet studio-he flinched at the old memory of my close call with a hunting vampire, but I didnt pause-or when you said I do and I realized that, somehow, I get to keep you forever. Those are the happiest memories I have, and this is better than any of it. So just deal with it.
He touched the frown line between my eyebrows. Im making you unhappy now. I dont want to do that.
Then dont you be unhappy. Thats the only thing thats wrong here.
His eyes tightened, then he took a deep breath and nodded. Youre right. The past is past and I cant do anything to change it. Theres no sense in letting my mood sour this time for you. Ill do whatever I can to make you happy now.
I examined his face suspiciously, and he gave me a serene smile.
Whatever makes me happy?
My stomach growled at the same time that I asked.
Youre hungry, he said quickly. He was swiftly out of the bed, stirring up a cloud of feathers. Which reminded me.
So, why exactly did you decide to ruin Esmes pillows? I asked, sitting up and shaking more down from my hair.
He had already pulled on a pair of loose khaki pants, and he stood by the door, rumpling his hair, dislodging a few feathers of his own.
I dont know if I decided to do anything last night, he muttered. Were just lucky it was the pillows and not you. He inhaled deeply and then shook his head, as if shaking off the dark thought. A very authentic-looking smile spread across his face, but I guessed it took a lot of work to put it there.
I slid carefully off the high bed and stretched again, more aware, now, of the aches and sore spots. I heard him gasp. He turned away from me, and his hands balled up, knuckles white.
Do I look that hideous? I asked, working to keep my tone light. His breath caught, but he didnt turn, probably to hide his expression from me. I walked to the bathroom to check for myself.
I stared at my naked body in the full-length mirror behind the door.
Id definitely had worse. There was a faint shadow across one of my cheekbones, and my lips were a little swollen, but other than that, my face was fine. The rest of me was decorated with patches of blue and purple. I concentrated on the bruises that would be the hardest to hide-my arms and my shoulders. They werent so bad. My skin marked up easily. By the time a bruise showed Id usually forgotten how Id come by it. Of course, these were just developing. Id look even worse tomorrow. That would not make things any easier.
I looked at my hair, then, and groaned.
Bella? He was right there behind me as soon as