When Edward woke up, he wasn't sure if he was able to sleep or not. He was wondering if the barely used guest room and four-poster bed seeped his energy away.
Did the sheets absorb his strength, rendering him useless and spent for eternity? A karma for unleashing the ire of the house's mistress. Or was Bella a witch that crept in the middle of the night chanting a spell while he unconsciously tried to resolve the events that happened in the dim moonlit kitchen?
Not a witch, more like a she-Devil. He had seen too many women in his short lifetime, but none as feisty and fearless as little Bella Swan.
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
Looking at himself in the vanity mirror of the bedroom's bath, he could see the stark redness of the she-Devil's slap. A reminder that this morning should not be a continuation of last night's spat, but a new day to start anew, and possibly earn her forgiveness. This made Edward uncomfortable, for the thought of getting into a woman's good graces is a completely alien experience.
He has never worked hard for a woman before. All of them, clawing their way to him to get to his good graces and not the other way around.
Today, his ego is being tested. His mind going on overdrive as he tries to rummage for memories - an event where he had to make it up to a girl and see if it would work for this particular situation.
No such luck.
His experience with women, though impressive, lack the vital skill he would need for this day.
How can wooing a woman be so hard?
Edward thought that Bella must be sporting a huge hangover today, and the way to get her favor is to alleviate the ailing side effect of whatever alcohol she consumed last night. With a little encouragement, he mustered all his strength and headed to the the scene of the crime.
What way to cure a hangover but a big starchy breakfast.
The Swan's huge kitchen proved to be even more intimidating in the daytime. Light streaked from the windows coating the entire room with the healthy Miami sunshine. Edward noted each crevice of the counter tops and the shiny steel surface of the state of the art kitchen appliances, and felt like they were living things - witnesses to his uncalled for outburst last night. Edward has the same state of the art kitchen in his Miami apartment. Though rarely used, Esme made sure he knew how to operate a well equipped kitchen in times he would need to actually use one.
Dressed in the same clothes he had yesterday, he slowly started to work.
Flashes of Bella's angry face as she shoved him lingered on his mind the whole morning, and it finally sank to him that he was immensely amused by her attitude. Her wide eyes and pretty face invading his thoughts as he worked his way in the kitchen. Like a fluttering butterfly, wisps of the conversation they had would sometimes stop him in his tracks - a smirk on his lips as he remembered the way her nostrils flared and then the unexpected slap. No one has ever slapped him before, and to be the receiving end from someone half his size perplexed and amused him to no end.
Pleased with himself, he eyed with satisfaction the scrambled eggs, lopsided pancakes, banana and water that he all carefully placed on a wooden tray, and started ascending the stairs heading straight to Bella's room.
With a timid knock, he entered her bedroom with trepidation not knowing what to expect.
Which Bella would I get today?
Would it be the shy and carefree one or the feisty brunette of last night?
What he saw was neither of the two.