AN: So, I wrote this for an EPOV contest. I hope you enjoy it. It's a One-Shot, unless I change my mind sometime in the future. I don't know, though...maybe Alice can tell me.

I don't own Twilight.

And no, it's not based on the song.

Right Round

Edward's POV (of course)

I smiled at the beautiful girl on my arm. As the elevator doors opened into my Seattle studio apartment, I pulled her into the kitchen, watching her toy with a strand of her hair. I turned the lights on, but not all the way, so the apartment was washed in a low, yellow light. Glasses clinked as I poured us both some champagne. Not that it was a special occasion or anything – tonight I just wanted to show her how much I appreciated her.

"Edward, you don't have to do that. I'd be okay with water," she said. It was endearing how she didn't like to be spoiled. But I would do it anyway.

"Nonsense," I replied, handing her a glass of bubbling, amber liquid. "I don't mind at all."

She took a sip and a dreamy smile formed on her lips. "I have to admit, it's good," she said softly.

"I know." We finished the champagne in golden silence, contented with staring deeply into each other's eyes. From the glowing look on her face, everything was going well; I was putting forth my best effort to be suave, and she was falling for me.

As she put her glass down on the counter, she looked around the apartment, noticing for the first time the grand piano by the picture window. The instrument was positioned perfectly so that the polished wood shone in the October sunset. "Do you play?" she asked.

I could tell she was eager to hear something, so I put on my most charming voice. "Anything you want me to."

I could tell this got a bodily response. Her breathing hitched just a little when she said, shyly, "Moonlight Sonata is beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as the woman standing before me." Oh yeah. I was pulling out all the stops tonight, cheesy or not. She smacked my chest playfully at the corniness of my flattery, but when she tried to pull her hand back I grabbed her wrist. The color in her cheeks rose when I brushed my lips gently over the back of her hand, guiding her to sit next to me on the piano bench.

I played for her. Once I finished with Moonlight Sonata, I moved on to Claire de Lune, seamlessly and without effort. I grinned to myself when she sighed and put her head on my shoulder. This is working out perfectly, I thought while I inhaled the sweet scent of her perfume. The combination of lemon and mint was delicious.

My fingers landed on the last chord and I turned to face her. "Care to dance?" I gestured toward the large open space in the middle of the apartment.

She seemed puzzled, but obligingly took my proffered hand and followed me onto the "dance floor." After I wrapped my arms tightly around her waist, a crease knitted between her elegant brows, in what I assumed was confusion. "Edward, how can we dance with no music?"

The natural answer popped into my mouth at once. "We make our own," was my romantic reply. I was rewarded for my sappy words when she put her cheek against my chest while we stepped slowly around the apartment. It was only too easy to eventually lead her around to the couch, where I pulled her down into my lap, stroking her shining hair.

Wrapping one arm around her slim waist, I softly ran the fingers of my other hand from her knee to her ankle, enjoying the smooth feel of her skin. Nimbly undoing the strap, I yanked off her high heel and tossed it carelessly across the room. I repeated the process for her other foot.

It was almost too much for me to hope for, but she returned the favor, only instead of removing my shoes, she pulled at the Windsor knot around my neck. After she undid the tie, she followed with the top two buttons of my dark green shirt, which I had specifically picked for this night because of its tendency to bring out the green in my eyes. While she was busy with my shirt, I kicked off my own shoes.

Then in one swift, smooth, and carefully planned maneuver, I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and swung my knee around so that she was lying – quite conveniently – underneath me on the couch. I paused for romantic effect, and to enjoy the sound of her slightly ragged breathing. After I stared deep into her eyes for a moment to make sure she was okay with this – and what I saw there was nothing but inviting – I eased my lips over hers.

So far, I had been the conductor of the evening. Everything I did had been carefully planned, every move tediously calculated so as to bring out the greatest amount of romance possible. And so far, it had gone without a hitch. She responded to my charming exactly how I had wanted her to, and now we were finally getting to the physical part of our relationship after three weeks of dating. It had gone all according to my master plan tonight, and basically, I had succeeded in dazzling her proverbial socks off.

What I was not prepared for, however, was how well she took over from here. Her lips moved against mine in a way that made my heart rate increase furiously, while she ran her hands all over my neck, shoulders, and back. At one point she twisted her fingers into my hair to pull me down to her, eliciting a very much un-planned groan from me. Our legs began to intertwine at the same time as our tongues and every now and then I would wrench my mouth away from hers to breathe and let her do likewise.

But I always returned, eager and willing as she was for more of it. Sometime, in the course of the action, I broke away to gasp, but instead of kissing her lips again, I planted my lips along her jaw line and down her neck, until I finally reached her collarbone. She gasped when I began sucking at her skin. She seemed to find that highly pleasurable, and I found out why when she took a page from my book and nibbled on my ear a bit.

I knew this was about as far as things would go. She had told me when we started dating, in no uncertain terms, that she would never sleep with anyone who wasn't her husband. But I was fine with this level, for now. I wouldn't cross any boundaries she had set, and since she seemed to enjoy what we were doing now, I had no problem with gnawing gently on her neck for a minute.

It seemed we had gotten into a back-and-forth game, because after I took my teeth away from her jugular, she did something I never would have dreamed of doing in real life. She licked me – from the base of my neck up to my chin (which I had made sure was completely free of stubble) – before coming back to my mouth so her tongue and mine could begin the dance all over.

Yes, sirree, all of my meticulous planning and thorough stratagems had paid off big time. This was Tanya at her best.

-X-X-

This was, by far, Tanya at her worst. Over the six months I had been dating her, she had slowly and surely become annoying and clingy, every man's worst nightmare. The Tanya I knew back in October would never be so upset over something so minor, especially when we weren't that serious about each other. I mean, we hadn't even exchanged "'I love you's" yet. And after today, I doubted if we ever would.

"How could you do this to me? I've been looking forward to tonight for a whole week," she whined, stomping back and forth in front of where I sat on my couch. "I even bought a special dress!"

"Something came up at the office, Tanya," I tried to calm her down. "I told you, it couldn't be avoided. When Mr. Marshall tells me he has to have my portfolio two days early, he has a good reason for it."

"But you said you were going to take me to Chez Étoiles tonight!" she persisted.

I sighed. "I know." I held my hands up in defeat, trying to placate her so she would quit storming around my apartment like a disgruntled cat. "I'm sorry we can't go. But this has to be done. I'll call the restaurant and reschedule our reservations."

"What to you mean, 'has to be done'!!" she whisper-shrieked. "Are you honestly putting your work before me?!"

"Tanya," I groaned, "My work has deadlines, things that have to be done at certain times, like my boss demanding that I give him my album-cover designs a little ahead of schedule."

"No!" she yelled, her stiletto boots clacking back and forth on my mahogany hardwood floor. I grimaced internally, hoping she wasn't scuffing it. "I think you're just a pathetic, jerk of a man who is addicted to his work. If you don't come to dinner tonight, then I'll know for sure."

I ran a hand through my hair. "Know what for sure?" She was being utterly ridiculous.

"I'll know that if you don't come to dinner, you choose being holed up in that office of yours over spending a romantic evening with your girlfriend. So if you love your work more than you love me, I can find someone else who appreciates me properly."

I couldn't help rolling my eyes, even though I knew it would probably make things worse. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I said, a little sarcastically, "So you're giving me an ultimatum? Is that it?"

She stopped pacing and glowered at me. "That is safe conclusion to draw, Eddie-Bear." She spat out the pet name, which she knew I loathed, with all the venom she could muster.

"Tanya, for the last time, I can't. Not unless I want to get fired. This is a huge project, and I can't just throw it aside for my personal life."

"Well you know what?" She stepped closer to me. "Throw this aside!" And she flipped me off. Whirling on the spot, she tramped over to the elevator and jammed the down button. I had to bite my fist to keep from laughing when the doors didn't open immediately. Her fury wasn't very impressive when she couldn't make her grand exit like she wanted.

When the elevator doors finally opened, she stepped inside and pressed the button, still refusing to look at me and with her nose stuck in the air. She wanted to frustrate and annoy me, and maybe make me feel guilty, but all I felt was amusement at her little hissy fit.

I got up to get a glass of water. Once the amusement had faded away, I waited for the sadness to come. I had, after all, just gotten dumped by my girlfriend of six months. We had fought a little before, of course, but never to the point to where she downright dumped me. But strangely enough, no heartache came.

Instead, it was more like relief. It finally dawned on me that I was free of her. I had had some good times with her, sure, but lately it had been nothing but complaints and clutching from Tanya Denali. After thinking about it for a moment I came to an abrupt realization.

Frankly, I was glad to be rid of her.

Feeling merry because of my epiphany, I decided to celebrate by getting a ridiculously expensive coffee at my favorite Starbucks. I left my apartment, hopping in a taxi and tipping the driver generously when he dropped me off. Despite – or maybe because of – the mess with Tanya, I was feeling good today.

The warmth and aroma of the shop was a welcome sensation, and I sauntered up to the counter, noting that the place was completely empty except for me – and the new, brown-haired barista.

"What can I get you?" she asked, wide brown eyes obviously taking in my physique. I was used to that, though. Girls had been staring at me ever since high school. I made my order and sat at a small table to wait while she made the drink.

"Here you go." I heard a shy voice say. She was standing in front of me with the coffee held outstretched. Her hand was trembling slightly. I briefly wondered why she was shaking before reaching for the drink.

"Thanks." I smiled politely while taking the cup. But my face contorted with pain and I hissed when she – I – both of us? – dropped the coffee in my lap.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she cried. Her face was bright red, and I could tell she was tremendously embarrassed. I felt bad for her; even if it was her fault it wasn't like I was going to tear her throat out.

"It's okay…" I glanced at her nametag. "…Bella. Really, it's no big deal."

"I'm such a klutz," she moaned to herself while I mopped up the mess with a handful of napkins. She sat next to me, and her cheeks were still red when she pleaded, "Please, let me make it up to you somehow."

Looking into her soft brown eyes, I thought, Why not?

AN: So, there you have it. I hope you enjoyed! It was kind of refreshing to write an EPOV where Edward is human, so I'm not having to think about what everyone else around him is thinking, too.

Review, please. Tell me what you think. Did I surprise you?

*Celebrate everything with copious amounts of root beer.*

*Stand in good pants.*