Rising Sun

Chapter 8 – The Morning After

Nights, by the light of whatever would burn:

tallow, tinder and the silken rope

of wick that burns slow, slow

we wove the baskets from the long gold strands

of wheat that were another silk: worm soul

spun the one, yellow seed in the dark soil, the other.

- Eleanor Wilner

It was the single greatest night of my existence.

And I hated myself for it even the more.

I hadn't notice them at first, I was still revealing in our making love at the time. But they started showing up about an hour afterwards, marking her, laughing in my face and calling me the worse kind of fiend.

Bruises – they covered her body, a tell-tale sign of what I had done to her.

I wanted to call Carlisle; but was too ashamed to. What would he think, would he finally see how unworthy of those praise, that I was the worse possible fiend.

Bella slept, not moving much. Was she in pain? Knowing Bella she wouldn't say anything about it, brush it off like it happens all the time. She seemed peaceful enough, eyes closed as she snuggled closer towards me. After this I wouldn't be surprised if she finally pushed me away.

She had to see what type of Mephistopheles I really was and that we could never do this again.

The late morning sun was evading the room when she started to stir. The golden rays touched her skin making the bruise stand out again her pale integument. They almost glisten in the sunlight.

She didn't open her eyes but tightened her arms around my neck. I ran my fingers along her back being careful not to touch the bruises. They swirled, missing the patchwork of black and blues that scatter her backside, some of them a perfect replica of my fingers and hands.

She giggled a little, and it peak my curiosity. She had a tendency to have these private jokes with herself.

"What's funny?" I murmured, my fingers still traveling around her back. I could never get enough of the feeling of her skin. But that was going to have to do for now.

Her stomach growled. "You just can't escape being human for very long."

She was never hungry in the morning. She mostly ate breakfast out of habit. Emmett once had teased her on her food choices during lunch one time, calling it rabbit food. Bella had told him she doesn't call him Bambi killers so he shouldn't make fun of her diet. Later Em asked me if she was eating enough.

It was hard to tell, not remembering food much. Things we aren't around as much we have a tendency to forget about. I am still not a hundred bit sure how the toilet works.

I closed my eyes for a moment, drawling in my thoughts. How could I let this happen, I knew the risk, knew what I was capable of doing?

I didn't look at her, I couldn't. I couldn't face what I had done to her.

"Edward, what is it. What's wrong," she asked scared. Her voice changed instantly from a carefree manner to one of concern. I silently cursed myself, making the situation worse.

"You have to ask," I growled. I hated myself for doing this to her. She should anathematize me as well. I had hurt her, no better than that dog. He was right; I was going to kill her. I should have stayed away the first time. And above all, I hated myself for my weakness. She was the one temptation that I could never win against, my ultimate unforgivable sin.

I finally looked at her face. Her face was safe, there weren't much bruises there. I trace the worry lines. Her brows were pressed together, like she always did when she was fretting over something. I tried to smooth out the worry lines, as if it could erase all the monstrous things that I had done to her. I had made a promise to myself that she would never have to worry again, and less than 48 hours after I spoken those vowels, the worry lines had appeared on her face.

But what she was fretting over, I could only guess. I had to learn how to read her face, but was not perfect at. "What are you thinking?"

"You're upset. I don't understand. Did I…?"

Why did she have to always take responsibility? I knew this was dangerous, that I would end up hurting her. I am the one who was responsible. I should have been strong enough to resist her.

Not that I actually could.

"How badly are you hurt, Bella? The truth – don't try to downplay it," I said. I wanted her to rant and rave at me. Call me a monster. Finally understand what I could do her. Hate me even.

But she did the complete opposite.

"Hurt?"

Didn't she know? How could she not feel it? They were all over her skin, patchworks of purples and blues. Everywhere I touched her last night showed up in today display work.

She moved a little but didn't say anything. I could see in her eyes and face that she was growing angry. Did she finally see?

"Why would you jump to that conclusion? I've never been better than I am now," she said.

"Stop that," I said loudly, shaking the house.

"Stop what," she shouted back.

"Stop acting like I'm not a monster for having agreed to this," I said. Hate me damn it. Hate me as much as I hate myself.

I closed my eyes, not ready to face her when she realized.

I opened again to a very confused face.

"Look at yourself, Bella, Then tell me I'm not a monster."

She gasped, finally she understood.

"Why am I covered in feathers?"

Feathers? Oh yah, I tore into the pillows last night. when I wanted to bite her.I didn't realize how much damaged I did to them. Us and the room was littered with down feathers, like snow. If I wasn't so piss off with myself I would have found this funny. Her hair was covered with it, showing up against the brown waves.

"I bit a pillow. Or two. That's not what I am talking about."

"You…bit a pillow? Why?" was she laughing?

I grabbed her arm, trying to be as gentle as I could so I don't inflict more pain on her. My fingers fit perfect into the bruise that wrapped itself around it.

"Look, Bella! Look at this,"

She looked at for a second, studying it before she said. "Oh." That had to be the most nonchalant 'oh' I have ever heard.

"I'm….so sorry, Bella," I whispered. She sat there staring at the bruises with a puzzle look on her face. "I know better than this. I should not have-" make love to you, touch you, love you, stayed with you, thought myself even the slightest bit worth of being with you, I finished off in my mind. This couldn't be considered making love; I had somehow turned something so beautiful into something repulsive. "I am more sorry than I can tell you."

I covered my face in shame; waiting for her to scream, to call me every kind of monster in the book, to demand a divorce, and to hate me. But just sat there.

And like every action before, she did the complete opposite of what a normal human would have done. Instead of repelling me, she took me in.

I felt a soft touch on my arm before she wrapped her fingers around my wriest. She tried to yank it away, forcing me to look at her. But I couldn't. Call me a coward but I couldn't face what I had done to her.

"Edward," she whispered.

"Edward," she yelled.

"I'm not sorry, Edward. I'm…I can't even tell you. I'm so happy. That doesn't cover it. Don't be angry. Don't. I'm really f-".

She was going to say fine. I had to stop her for my own sanity. "Do not say the word fine. If you value my sanity, do not say that you are fine." I couldn't take much more than of this. She couldn't be fine. The tell tale makers were all over her body, mocking me. There was no way she could deny what had happened; it was posted all over her body. I had finally had done the unthinkable.

"But I am," she whispered.

I finally looked at her. Her eyes were filled with both angry and concern, if that was possible. What was going through her mind?

"Don't ruin this," she said starring down at me, her eyes growing a little angrier. Finally a normal response. "I AM HAPPY," She said pronouncing each would like it was its own sentence.

"I've already ruined this." How could she not see what I done to her? Did I somehow ruin her vision as well?

"Cut it out," she snapped.

I look away for a moment.

"Ugh," she yelled in frustration. "Why can't you read my mind already? It's so inconvenient to be a mental mute!"

My head snapped up, did I somehow damage her brain as well. "That's a new one. You love that I can't ready your mind." She never told me this, but I knew it. Maybe that is why I thought the need to always ask her what is on her mind. What she was thinking. For the last hundred years I have walked among both my and her kind, able to hear the most in depth thoughts in their psyche, but not hers. Hers was a mystery wrapped up an enigma, maybe that's why she surprised me as much with her thought patterns. They didn't make since because I was only allowed to witnessing what she want to show the world.

"Not today," she snapped.

"Why," my curiosity getting the best of me. I'll admit not being able to read her mind has made this relationship a lot more confusing. Even in the beginning, my confidence wasn't there when I talked to her because I didn't know if she was finding me repulsive or not. Or that she had figured what I was. I probably wouldn't have made as many mistakes as I did if I could hear what she was thinking instead of having to guess and resort to asking her.

She threw her hands up before smacking me. Or at least I think she was trying to smack me. I barely felt anything. "Because all this angst would be completely unnecessary if you could see how I feel right now! Or five minutes ago, anyway. I was perfectly happy. Totally and completely blessed out. Now-well, I'm sort of pissed actually."

Finally a normal response. I was starting to think she was incapable of them. "You should be angry at me." I said. Hated me damn it, because I hate myself right now.

"Well, I am. Does that make you feel better?"

"No. I don't think anything could make me feel better now." She was covered in bruises because I couldn't control my lust. She seemed to keep getting hurt every time she was around me. I thought this constant torture would be over as soon as we were married. But it wasn't.

"That," she snapped. "That right there is why I'm angry." Huh? "You are killing my buzz, Edward."

I rolled my eyes. Why was I surprise that the angry was directed at a different reason than the right reason? Emmett and Jasper continue to laugh at me as I stumble through this relationship. I felt so blind around her at times, like I was always in the dark. "That's how a relationship is," Carlisle had told me once, when I vented my frustrations on Bella response. "We aren't supposed to know what the other is thinking."

"We knew this was going to be tricky. I thought that was assumed. And then-well, it was a lot easier than I thought it would be. And this is really nothing." I can't believe she was writing this off. Why hadn't I reached the point of her infinity forgiveness? I had put her through hell in back more times than I care to remember. Keep putting her life in danger. Left her. Hurt her more times and she kept forgiving me. "I think for a first time not knowing what to expect, we did amazing. With a little practice.

She has got to be kidding me. I could feel my temper boil up and I knew it was because I was angrier with myself than her. But like before, she became the force in which I released it.

"Assumed? Did you expect this Bella? Were you anticipating that I would hurt you? Were you thinking it would be worse? Do you consider the experiment a success because you can walk away from it? No broken bones – that equals a victory."

She sat there taking it in. Her eyes looking at me understanding each out burst of anger as if it was complete justified, waiting for me to finish. I closed my eyes trying to get my temper under control.

She looked directly in my eyes when she finally spoke. "I don't know what to expect – but I definitely did not expect how…how…just wonderful and perfect it was." I could always tell when she was lying. Her eyes were very open and right now they were saying that she was telling the truth. Had somehow out of the atrocious act that I had forced upon her, she had found pleasure. That she had enjoyed it as much as I did? That would be impossible, yet the truth was. Her eyes dropped, but the blush worked it way up. "I mean, I don't know how it was for you, but it was like that for me."

I pressed a finger against her; bring her face to look at me. Was she worried that she hasn't pleased me. Of all the ridicules thoughts that had flown through her head. How could she not understand it was the most amazing thing I have ever felt? That any time I touched her I received pleasure and this just heighten it up.

"Is that what you're worried about?" I pushed the next thing through my teeth. The thought of it still disgusted me. "That I didn't enjoy myself?"

She looked at me with trusting eyes, holding for an answer. She truly was worried that my reactions this morning was based on the actions from last night to it. "I know it's not the same. You're not human. I just was trying to explain that, for a human, well, I can't imagine that life gets any better than that?"

Her eyes burred in to me, expecting an answer. "It seems that I have more to apologize for." I didn't dream that you would construe the way I feel about what I did to you to mean that last night…." There wasn't a word invented that could express what I had felt last night. "Well, the best night of my existence. But I don't want to think of it that way, not when you were…" I could even say the words allowed.

Her face lit up and she started to glow. "Really, The best ever."

I took her face between my hands, how soft and warm she felt there. "I spoke to Carlisle after you and I made our bargain, hoping he could help me. Of course he warns me that this would be more dangerous for you." I looked down for a second thinking back to the conversation.

She wants to have sex, I all but blurred out two days after the whole Victoria thing had been put to bed. I had burst into Carlisle study. He was sitting on his favorite chair engross into a book. He didn't look at me. For a couple of minuets I just stood there, dumbfounded at the thought.

"I am not surprised," he said not looking up.

"What am I going to do," I asked. When I was nervously thinking I tend to pace. Emmett swears I dug a hole from here to Seattle when I was running each night (fast pacing) when I was trying to figure out how to handle the whole Bella situation. I know I was doing it now, but for two days I have been wrestling with this. Why did I ever agree to this? Because it will make her happy and this is what she wants. And you love giving her what she wants.

"You know the mechanics of it Edward. You study the topic. I think you're a little old for the birds and the bees chat."

"I am going to kill her," I said. I slumped down into one of the chairs, putting my head between my face.

"Do you want it," he said putting his book down.

"More than anything, but not at the cost of her life," I whispered. The thoughts of what will happen had been running rapid through my mind. I didn't want her to know about it, it would just worry her more.

"I am just surprised you waited this long. Son, you have good control, better than you even give yourself credit for at times. You wouldn't hurt her. Maybe it is time for the talk."

I picked my head up.

"He had faith in me, though – faith I didn't deserve."

She opened her mouth to speak as I pressed two fingers on it.

"I also asked him, what I should expect. I don't know what it would be for me. What with me being a vampire," I had to smile at the thought of Carlisle trying to explain to me the feelings of making love in scientific terms. Carlisle had never been one to express his feelings; maybe I should have spoken this part with Esme. He had done a poor job. This was so much more intense than he even could put to words. "Carlisle told me it was a very powerful thing, like nothing else. He told me physical love was something I should not treat lightly. With our rarely changing temperaments, strong emotions can alter us in permanent ways. But he said I did not need to worry about that part – you had already altered me so completely." She had in the most astounding ways. Her love had brought me to life, gave me joy beyond it being, opened myself that I could never retreat into myself every again. My family had been the first to notice the change in me. Alice said I seem happier and I noticed that Jasper wanted to be around me more. I wasn't so cynical about stuff anymore, more understanding, even more day-dreamily. She had force my eyes opened when I wanted to keep them shut. I now saw the world around me as a beautiful place.

"I spoke to my brothers, too. They told me it was a very great pleasure. Second only to drinking human blood." I thought about it. I had tasted her blood once and she was my singer. The one blood I couldn't resist. And that was pale in comparison to making love to her. "But I've tasted your blood, and there could be no blood more potent that that… I don't think they were wrong, really. Just that I was different for us. Something more."

"It was more. It was everything," she whispered. She was truly happy. The glow from earlier was back illuminating her. I wanted to take her than, lose myself in her, but I knew I couldn't. I had to resist for her sake.

"That doesn't change the fact that it was wrong. Even if it were possible that you really did feel the same way."

The glow went away. Great I hurt her feelings.

She looked like she was about ready to cry. "What dose that mean? Do you think I'm making this up? Why?"

"To ease my guilt. I can't ignore the evidence, Bella." How could I it was all over her lovely body. "Or your history of trying to let me off the hook when I make mistakes."

She grabbed my face, leaning forwards so there wasn't much space between her and I. 'You listen to me, Edward Cullen. I am not pretending anything for your sake, okay? I didn't even know there was a reason to make you feel better until you started being all miserable. I've never been so happy in all my life – I wasn't 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-or when you said I do and I realized that, somehow I get to keep you forever. Those were the happiest memories I have, and this is better than any of it. So just deal with it."

I reached out, trying to smooth the frown lines. This was our honeymoon and I was dampening it. "I'm making you unhappy now. I don't want to do that."

"Then don't you be unhappy. That's the only thing that's wrong here."

"You're right. The past is past and I can't do anything to change it. There's no sense in letting my mood sour this time for you. I'll do whatever I can to make you happy now."

She studied me for a moment, before accepting what I was saying. When I want to, I could lie to her. I had to learn how, in this lifestyle is always about the persona. You learn early to play the game, keep the secret. Our kind expects it. Any mess ups you had to take care off. I had lied to her more offend, always to protect her. But more offend I found her accepting what I was saying, but not really believing it. She had learned too.

"Whatever makes me happy?" She smirked a little and thankfully her stomach growled. I don't know if I could handle seductive Bella.

"You're hungry," I said getting myself out of bed as quick as possible. I grab a pair of draw string kakis and quickly put them on. As I moved a cloud of fathers stirred up, causing it to look like snow. If I wasn't so angry with myself I would have laugh at it.

"So, why exactly did you decide to ruin Esme's pillows?"

I didn't ruin them on purpose; it was in response to wanting to sink my teeth into her, marking her, making her mine. At least I have been able to control that part of my nature. "I don't know if I decided to do anything last night," I honestly said. I lost control plain and simple. If I had been in control last night, Bella wouldn't be covered by bruises. Looking away from her in shame. "We're just lucky it was the pillows and not you." I pushed a smile forward, promising myself I would be happy for Bella. Her happiness seemed to depend on if I was happy.

She slid carefully off the bed and stretched. I fully took in the damages.

I am a monster, the worse kind. I quickly turned from her, my hands balled up, trying not to take my anger and frustration out on anything. I hated myself more than ever. I had hurt her, something I had feared since the moment I laid eyes on her. I was no better than that monster in biology class the first day, thinking up how to lure her away from the safe of the classroom and those children.

"Do I look that hideous?" she asked. I couldn't answer that, yes she did. She was covered with black and blues. I had used her body with very little care.

She walked into the bathroom. For a couple of minuets it was quiet than I heard her groan. She had finally been able to see the full extend of what I had done.

She was standing in front of mirror, surviving the damages done to her. I stood behind her, watching in the mirror as she study each and every bruise and than touched her hair.

"Bella?" Please tell me what's on your mind.

"I'll never get this all out of my hair!" she said trying to pull the fathers out of her head. My Bella would pick the one thing that seemed insignificant to the world and be upset about her.

"You would be worried about your hair," I said helping her pull the feathers out her hair.

She was laughing and smiling, making me hate myself more. Why couldn't I be as happy for her sake? "How did you keep from laughing at this? I look ridiculous," she laughed. I wish I could join her, feel the same way.

I just keep concentrating on pulling the feathers out of her hair.

"This isn't going to work. It's all dried in. I'm going to have to wash it out," she signed. Than turned to wrap her arms around my waist. I know I was responding to her, I had to get away from her as soon as possible or I was going to lose it. "Do you want to help me?"

How could she still want me after this?

"I'd better find some food for you," and quickly disappeared out of the door at vampire speed. I couldn't face her body, wanting it so much or her eyes knowing that she would be disappointed.

I walked into the kitchen as I heard the shower turned on. I just needed a couple of seconds to get a hold of myself. I leaned on the counter, putting my head into hands. At that moment I wish I could cry. I felt like I wanted to.

Bella and mine relationship had always been built on an untraditional foundation. While I played it safe, she ran head long into things. She knew I was a vampire, yet insisted that we could have a normal relationship with normal rules; even after she fully understood that her blood was like heroine to me. And I had a feeling that she wouldn't allow a couple of bruises to stop her from having a real honeymoon.

So how was I going to discourage her? She would never see it my way.

She floated into the kitchen, her skin glowing. Carlisle once accused me of running away when a problem got to hard. Not this time. I would face this one head on.

I quickly made her in omelet, knowing she likes eggs. I never put much time into thinking about how humans prepare food. But since Bella, I can honestly say the kitchen has become somewhat of my domain. Emmett has joked once that I had become whipped. This is coming from a guy who follows Rose around like a puppy.

"Here," I said happy that I could at least do one thing right.

Usually Bella is a slow eater, but she devour them, not even letting them cool down first. I didn't realize that she that hungry. Actually I had never seen her that hungry.

"I'm not feeding you often enough," I said as she cleaned her plate. Most of the time when I made eggs, she only ate half of them.

"I was asleep. This is really good, by the way. Impressive for someone who doesn't eat."

"Food Network," I said, smiling at her. I was glad she thought my food was at least good.

She smiled back at me, I could do this. I could be happy for her. I would do everything in my power to make sure she enjoyed our time on the island. When she was less breakable and back to her old self; I would take her on another honeymoon to make up for this one.

"Where did the eggs come from?"

"I asked the cleaning crew to stock the kitchen. A first, for this place." Carlisle fusspotness on having everything look as if a human lived here paid off. We had a state of an art kitchen with refrigerator.

She eat another omelet or more like ingurgitate it down. She must be running low on energy.

Thank you," she told me. She leaned across the table to kiss me. My automatic response was to kiss her back; it just came natural to me. But I stopped myself, I was too wound up right now, and that kiss would lead me to a place I wasn't allowing myself to go.

She stopped and out of now where, "You aren't going to touch me again while we're here, are you?"

I hesitated for a moment, making sure I was in control and than I softly stroke her cheek. This was safe, I think. She lean her face into my palm, closing her eyes.

"You know what that's not what I mean," she said.

"I know. And you're right," I said being honest with her. "I will not make love with you until you've been changed. I will never hurt you again."

Somehow I had a bad feeling, like all my other promises. That one is going to be broken too.

*********************AUTHOR NOTES**********************************

Sorry about the delay, two papers due at the same time, not fun.

Not much to say on this chapter, just a little bit of what was going through Edward's mind at the time.

Fusspot means someone who is a stickler on things being perfect. It was a popular term back in the Edwardian times (when Edward was kid).