I'm still working on this one, but here it is. Breaking Dawn from Edward's POV. Be kind. I'm not the best at writing bedroom scenes (luckily I didn't have to write much in that department). This is DEFINITELY a work in progress. Still VERY rough. And I'm not completely done with Book 3 yet.

I decided to do it in 3 books like Stephenie did, just because it was easier to write the prologues and find epitaphs that way, since the mood of Breaking Dawn varies so much.

Note: I STILL DO NOT OWN TWILIGHT OR THE CHARACTERS!

WARNING! THIS STORY CONTAINS A BEDROOM SCENE!


Book 1

Paradise

With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow.
-Book of Common Prayer

Prologue

Bella's heart started racing as I slowly carried her back into the house. She didn't look at me as I set her gently on the bed. Her eyes were down, focused on the floor.

Now I was the calmer of the two of us. I had been fine since she'd first placed her hand on mine in the ocean. All of my nerves, my fears, my worries were completely gone. This felt too right to be wrong. I knew this would be safe. She had been right all along. I couldn't hurt her.

But now she was terrified. Not terrified of me, I knew that. Terrified of facing the unknown. Terrified that she would do something wrong, or that she wouldn't be good at this. But she couldn't do anything wrong in my eyes. There was no reason for her nerves. Now it was my turn to comfort her.

"Bella, love, look at me," I whispered.

She didn't. I coaxed her chin up with my finger until she was forced to meet my gaze. A single tear was in the corner of one of her eyes.

"Are you all right?" I asked her as I wiped the tear away.

She didn't answer.

"Nervous?"

Finally, I got a response. She nodded timidly.

"Are you sure you want to do this now, Bella? We don't have to if you don't want to."

"I'm sure," she whispered, barely audible. "Just give me a minute."

And suddenly, I knew what to say. Somehow, I knew exactly what it was that she needed to hear. She needed reassurance that I wasn't going to judge her, that I loved her unconditionally. She needed a reminder that it was me sitting here with her. "It's me, love," I whispered, stroking her cheek. "It's just me." I kissed her softly, trying to reassure her.

It worked. Her heart rate slowed to semi-normal and she locked her arms around my neck, returning the kiss with a passion that might have set the whole island on fire.