JК
Breaking Dawn :: Meyer Stephenie
Страница: 63 из 429I followed his gaze and was shocked to see that large chunks of wood had apparently been gouged from the left side of the headboard.
“Hmm.” I frowned. “You’d think I would have heard that.”
“You seem to be extraordinarily unobservant when your attention is otherwise involved.”
“I was a bit absorbed,” I admitted, blushing a deep red.
He touched my burning cheek and sighed. “I’m really going to miss that.”
I stared at his face, searching for any signs of the anger or remorse I feared. He gazed back at me evenly, his expression calm but otherwise unreadable.
“How are you feeling?”
He laughed.
“What?” I demanded.
“You look so guilty—like you’ve committed a crime.”
“I feel guilty,” I muttered.
“So you seduced your all-too-willing husband. That’s not a capital offense.”
He seemed to be teasing.
My cheeks got hotter. “The word seduced implies a certain amount of premeditation.”
“Maybe that was the wrong word,” he allowed.
“You’re not angry?”
He smiled ruefully. “I’m not angry.”
“Why not?”
“Well . . .” He paused. “I didn’t hurt you, for one thing. It was easier this time, to control myself, to channel the excesses.” His eyes flickered to the damaged frame again. “Maybe because I had a better idea of what to expect.”
A hopeful smile started to spread across my face. “I told you that it was all about practice.”
He rolled his eyes.
My stomach growled, and he laughed. “Breakfast time for the human?” he asked.
“Please,” I said, hopping out of bed. I moved too quickly, though, and had to stagger drunkenly to regain my balance. He caught me before I could stumble into the dresser.
“Are you all right?”
“If I don’t have a better sense of equilibrium in my next life, I’m demanding a refund.”
I cooked this morning, frying up some eggs—too hungry to do anything more elaborate. Impatient, I flipped them onto a plate after just a few minutes.
“Since when do you eat eggs sunny-side up?” he asked.
“Since now.”
“Do you know how many eggs you’ve gone through in the last week?” He pulled the trash bin out from under the sink—it was full of empty blue cartons.
“Weird,” I said after swallowing a scorching bite. “This place is messing with my appetite.” And my dreams, and my already dubious balance. “But I like it here.
“Hmm.” I frowned. “You’d think I would have heard that.”
“You seem to be extraordinarily unobservant when your attention is otherwise involved.”
“I was a bit absorbed,” I admitted, blushing a deep red.
He touched my burning cheek and sighed. “I’m really going to miss that.”
I stared at his face, searching for any signs of the anger or remorse I feared. He gazed back at me evenly, his expression calm but otherwise unreadable.
“How are you feeling?”
He laughed.
“What?” I demanded.
“You look so guilty—like you’ve committed a crime.”
“I feel guilty,” I muttered.
“So you seduced your all-too-willing husband. That’s not a capital offense.”
He seemed to be teasing.
My cheeks got hotter. “The word seduced implies a certain amount of premeditation.”
“Maybe that was the wrong word,” he allowed.
“You’re not angry?”
He smiled ruefully. “I’m not angry.”
“Why not?”
“Well . . .” He paused. “I didn’t hurt you, for one thing. It was easier this time, to control myself, to channel the excesses.” His eyes flickered to the damaged frame again. “Maybe because I had a better idea of what to expect.”
A hopeful smile started to spread across my face. “I told you that it was all about practice.”
He rolled his eyes.
My stomach growled, and he laughed. “Breakfast time for the human?” he asked.
“Please,” I said, hopping out of bed. I moved too quickly, though, and had to stagger drunkenly to regain my balance. He caught me before I could stumble into the dresser.
“Are you all right?”
“If I don’t have a better sense of equilibrium in my next life, I’m demanding a refund.”
I cooked this morning, frying up some eggs—too hungry to do anything more elaborate. Impatient, I flipped them onto a plate after just a few minutes.
“Since when do you eat eggs sunny-side up?” he asked.
“Since now.”
“Do you know how many eggs you’ve gone through in the last week?” He pulled the trash bin out from under the sink—it was full of empty blue cartons.
“Weird,” I said after swallowing a scorching bite. “This place is messing with my appetite.” And my dreams, and my already dubious balance. “But I like it here.