A/N: I own nothing, and trust me, at this point I don't really want to.

I awoke resting on top of Edward's marble chest. Thoughts of our night of passion, of which I can't tell you any details because my creator is a Mormon, filled my mind. I absentmindedly let my fingers roam around his cool skin. I looked up into his face, and was shocked at what I saw. He was furious.

I touched his face, exposing some of the bruises that I had yet to even notice, and his expression darkened further, if that were possible. "What's wrong, Edward?"

Through clenched teeth, he hissed, "How badly are you hurt Bella? And please, don't lie for me."

I looked at him, puzzled. I had no idea what he was talking about. He cautiously outstretched his arm and let his hand hover over a purple bruise on my upper arm. It was a perfect match.

"Oh," I mouthed. I looked down at myself and saw that there were bruises in the shape of Edward's hands running along my ribs as well. "They're fine," I assured him. I really could feel nothing; I simply bruised easily.

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he calmed himself. "That's not even the most atrocious part of all of this mess," he fiercely whispered. He twisted and leaned over, groping for something on the bedside table. His arm fell in a beam of sunlight as he did so; his homosexual sparkles were dazzling.

He placed the tiny mirror in front of me, and then raised it so that I was looking at my reflection. I gasped. I finally saw what he was so furious about; there, on my left cheek, was a giant purple and blue bruise, deeper in color where his knuckles would have been.

"Edward," I began questioningly. "Did you… backhand me last night?"

He looked down, shame now coloring his murderously angry face. I was in shock; I had no idea why he would do this!

Seemingly reading my mind, he roared, "I don't know why, Bella! I, I, I just couldn't control myself; I didn't mean to pimp slap you! You just looked so sexy with all the feathers surrounding you!"

I didn't know which worried me more. The fact that I had, for once since I'd known him, caused him to stutter, the fact that Edward actually just said the phrase "pimp slap", or the fact that Edward thought I looked sexy with feathers all over me.

I looked down, and indeed discovered that I was coated in white feathers. I looked like Big Bird.

"Why am I covered in feathers?" I asked.

"I bit a pillow. Or two," he answered.

"You… bit a pillow? Why?" I questioned.

"So I could smother you in them," he replied, his voice now laced with the tiniest hint of lust. "You look so appealing in feathers."

I couldn't help it; I burst out laughing. This had to be a joke, right?

"Edward, you aren't saying you have some sort of… feather fetish, are you?"

He gave me a hard glance. "There is nothing even remotely funny about that. I find feathers to be extremely arousing."

This statement made me laugh louder. I could feel the tears beginning to prick at the corner of my eyes. He carefully rolled on top of me, putting none of his weight on the bruises left all over my body, and stared into my eyes with a serious expression. My breath hitched in my throat, and my laughter stopped as I stared wide eyed. He leaned down to kiss me hard on the mouth. My hands moved to lock behind his neck, playing with the short hairs there. His tongue slowly traced my bottom lip, teasing me. I gasped, and my mouth opened the tiniest bit. I hadn't realized how badly I had needed to breathe. Edward trailed his icy lips down along my jaw and throat, moving to whisper in my ear as his hands slid down my sensitive sides. I let out a small, involuntary moan. His breath tickled my ear. "Yes," he whispered. "Moan for me, Bella. I want you to squawk like a beautiful chicken."


My body shot up from the bed, my hands shaking and coated in a layer of cool sweat. Thank God, I thought, knowing that it had all been a very awkward dream and that my husband wasn't really a freak.

And then I saw it. As gracefully as a piece of paper floating on a breeze, a single feather drifted down from my hair and landed in a pile of white fluff in my lap.

I froze, eyes wide as saucers, lungs and heart shutting off for a fraction of a second.

I inhaled, and then…

"EDWARD! Why am I covered in feathers?" I screeched.