Mr. and Mrs. Cullen

“Woo hoo, we’re married, what now?” I laughed weakly as soon as we were in Edward’s Volvo. After I said it I realized it was true, we were married, and now only two more things needed to be completed before both our “demands” – or conditions – were met.

Edward read my expression correctly and sighed, a look of frustration coming across his face as he drove: He knew I wanted to become a vampire like him, and he also knew that I wanted him. But which one of my conditions to fulfill first?

If it was the vampire condition, it would be months – no, years – before the other could even be thought of. I’d need to be trained, to learn self-control, to learn to resist the calling of human blood and to live peacefully amongst them. There was no way I could possibly take a break from that to – I gulped as I thought it – sleep with him.

But on the other hand, if it was the sleeping-with-him condition first, there was the huge risk that I would end up dead. Of course in the becoming-a-vampire thing I could die, but here was more likely. I was mortal, human, and as Edward put it, breakable. He could kill me before I would have time to realize what had happened if he lost control during… that.

So I was undecided in which to complete first. I doubted Edward would be of much help. Actually, he’d probably be too helpful when it came to deciding…

“Bella,” He interrupted my thoughts lightly, “I know – well not literally – I can guess what you’re thinking and you know I have to have a hand in this as well. You know what I said before?”

I stared at him as he drove, slightly confused, “No, what about?”

He sighed again, and I wondered why. “About giving you morphine.” He grimaced. “I was thinking about that, and I realize now that the idea was preposterous. Of course you wouldn’t be able to actually feel the pain, but I could kill you just as easily regardless. Just as easily as I could if I bit you and lost control…”

He was trying to sound casual about the whole thing, but I knew him better. His golden eyes looked troubled, like he was battling with himself internally about it.