A/N: This is a story challenge presented to me by a friend. Below is what I was given to write a story with. xelectrogirlx – thanks! I hope you enjoy reading my first Carlisle and Esme fic.

DISCLAIMER: I sadly am not the creator of Twilight - sad times for me... however, I own this story! WHOO

Carlisle and Esme's Story Prompt

Length: As long as you want

Warnings: Must contain a little bit of angst/romance/fluff

Characters: Carlisle/Esme

Prompt: Must be all vampire. No humans! (Apart from the actual human characters in Twilight obviously) Must contain some sort of sex scene (it's up to you how far you go with it!)

Must start with the line, "It's not your fault..." Said by whichever character you wish.

Personal demand: Must emphasise Carlisle's beauty at some point, lol

Love for disaster

"It's not your fault," Esme whispered reassuringly into her adoring husband's ear, her slender fingers exploring each muscle of his back before gliding south, and finally, sliding around his torso where they gently tangled themselves together against his chest. From her kneeling position behind him, her chin fell forwards, resting upon his shoulder while her lips reached out to kiss his smooth, sculptured cheek. It was a rare occurrence that her husband would be seen without a scarf of some sort around his neck, and it always excited her somewhat when he allowed only her to be privy to the slightly raised scars upon his neck. As her eyes explored them momentarily, after her lips had left his skin, she wondered why he remained so disgusted by them. He may be ashamed of the slightly darker marks left viciously by his creators, but she was certainly not. It was part of him, as she knew it was innately part of her to be with him. If it had not been for the owner of those teeth, and his pain, then she would have no claim to him as she did now; her husband, her lover, her companion and mate.

"The fault is mine, and mine alone Esme," Carlisle answered, shame tainting his usually god-like voice that soothed all her senses.

"Rosalie is ..." Esme paused, searching for an appropriate and inoffensive description for their newest, adopted daughter, "... passionate. She has come from such privilege. A human life where her choices were shallow, her own, and this choice was not of her free-choosing. It will take her time to adjust."

"And that time we will allow her, naturally. We have allowed her two years already and a time has to come where she must take responsibility for her behaviour, and they must be ones that do not upset others close to her." He raised one hand and pressed it firmly to his lips, his other subconsciously stroking the length of Esme's firmly gripped arm.

"The fault this time was not solely Rosalie's, remember?" A thoughtful and indulgent expression spread across her soft features as she recalled the events of only a few hours ago. "Edward is struggling too, and to be fair he often provokes her fiery temper."

~~ Flash back ~~

There had been no plans for the day, and as the sun was shying away behind large, dirty grey clouds, the four vampiric figures had set down a delightful spot in the rectangular shaped garden, where they would enjoy the peaceful day together. Carlisle sat upright with a particularly small medical book propped in one hand, as his other played casually with Esme's chestnut curls. Esme herself lay with her head resting in Carlisle's lap, while she picked and played with the wild flowers the garden offered her. Directly in front, but slightly to the left, sat Edward. His position was taut with tension, his expression vacant as he glared in the direction of Rosalie. She sprawled across the chequered picnic blanket, her golden hair splayed out, reaching in all directions. Her hands twisted together across her flat, toned stomach, and her long legs shook slightly as she absentmindedly twitched her feet. She was lost in thought, unaware that her personal, and private thoughts, were being invaded.

"You really should stop thinking of them like that," Edward finally announced to the otherwise silent group. Rosalie shot up, spinning on her knees to face him. Her expression hardened and her eyes narrowed as realisation that he had been listening hit.

"Get out of my head!" she barked, clearly irritated, and then offered him a silent warning with nothing more than a glare. As he sat, undeterred by her blatant threat, he couldn't help but think how animalistic she appeared on all fours.

"I am just saying ..." he began again, drawing the attention of both Esme and Carlisle.

"Edward, leave Rose be. Let's not do this again, shall we?" Esme asked politely, though it was clearly an instruction.

"Yes Edward," Rosalie taunted, delighted to have the support of another, which recently seemed all too rare.

"I don't like the things she thinks, Esme, they're cruel," Edward jibed again, his eyes narrowing and still fixed upon Rosalie. She stared back, not willing to let his invasive ways be forgotten this time.

"They are not cruel! What is cruel is that you seem unable to be alone with YOUR thoughts, and blame that on me." She pulled herself upright, resting her small weight upon her knees, her beautiful expressions being spoilt by the annoyance toying within her.

"So thinking that you are more exquisite by appearance than Esme, and that she has someone like Carlisle, and you do not, is pleasant?" A small smile tugged at the corners of Edward's lips. His fights with Rosalie, since he had refused her as a mate, had now passed the stage of annoying to point scoring against each other for amusement. Rosalie on the other hand did not see this as fun but as embarrassing and spiteful.

"How dare you!" Rosalie cried, quickly wanting to rectify the accusation through her embarrassment. "I did not think such a thing, I only recognised that you are attractive Esme, and I was thinking that I surely deserve someone like Carlisle too!"

"It's fine Rosalie. Your thoughts are your own. Edward, that's quite enough," Carlisle interjected, wanting to prevent this from escalating into yet another brawl.

"But they are not! Not with this imbecile constantly abusing his gift like this, and only at the expense of my humiliation!" Rosalie raged, her arms flailing madly about her, her golden hair waving with fury against her back.

"I am not abusing them. I am using them to my own advantage. To know who you really are," Edward muttered, turning to examine the lavender tree behind him.

"Rosalie, please withhold the insulting names," Esme pleaded as she pulled herself upright and brushed her hands across her face. She too had had just about enough of this constant bickering lately.

"That's right! It's always me, isn't it? Surely nothing to do with him!" One arm waved dangerously close to Edward's head, and the breeze forced him to quickly duck and turn back to face her.

"That is not the case. Both of you stop this now," Carlisle said softly, but with an air of authority in his voice and a stern expression on his face as he looked between the two of them. He barely had time to place his book to the ground before Rosalie began again.

"I have had enough of this!" Rosalie flew to her feet, preparing either to launch at her adoptive brother, or to flee this embarrassment. "It's not like I wanted this excuse for a life anyway! I'd be much happier if you were not here!"

"I believe that you would, yes," Edward answered honestly. His face instantly calmed as it abruptly dawned on him how childish and unfair he was being. The hurt he saw on Rosalie's face was enough to make him feel guilty for taunting her unprovoked ... this time. But then, Rosalie started these petty disagreements far too often, and he was certain that once in a while it was only fair for him to begin one; after all some of her thoughts were of a bitter nature whether she admitted it or not. Though, amidst their own anger and irritation, they had failed to notice the wince of pain that had etched its way onto Carlisle's features.

"You will grow up NOW and stop this," Esme raised her voice to almost deafening levels. Carlisle's torment had not escaped her notice. "You are both far from fair! Edward, you will stay out of Rosalie's thoughts unless for a very good reason! And Rosalie ... you will stop beating Carlisle with your own qualms about what he did for you. I will not stand to watch you abuse him about this day in and day out! He thought he was saving you, giving you another chance!"

"Esme," Carlisle's voice was quiet, almost a whisper, and he could not bring himself to look up from the ground beneath him to his dysfunctional family. He appreciated her support, but was encouraging her to stop. Rosalie had an outspoken view on her changing into this life, and made it known often that she held a certain amount of resentment towards Carlisle for his actions to save her. But she rarely thought what it was doing to her saviour of death, or to his wife and son.

"Go." Esme demanded. "Both of you. Hunt and sort this out amongst yourselves and do not return until you have resolved your petty differences."

Each of them remained in silence for a moment, startled at Esme's unexpected outburst. She was always so calm and sweet towards them all, regardless if there was blame to one of them or not. And as the waves of surprise washed around them, each thought over their own misdoings. Before long, Rosalie turned and quickly disappeared out of sight without another word. Her anger and hate still poisoning the air she left behind.

"Go with her Edward please. Make sure she hunts safely. You never know what may happen with the mood she has taken," Carlisle added once she had left, love and care still present in his tone. With a single nod of understanding and a quick apologetic half-smile to Esme, he rushed after his sister.

"Let us go back inside, honey," Esme ushered while whisking around the garden to collect their belongings. "I'm sure we can trust them to sort this themselves. They are adults after all."

~~ End flash back ~~

"They will sort it out. I'm sure having to spend time together will result in a brawl, and then all will be well again!" Esme smiled hopefully. She had faith her children would come around eventually.

"Maybe, honey, but that doesn't excuse their behaviour," he mused, taking hold of one of her hands and lifting it to his lips. He felt Esme smile as his lips pressed against her perfect, porcelain skin.

"She's confused, that's all. This is still new to her. She will be fine with Edward, eventually. As I know he will be fine with her. He just has to forget that you turned Rosalie so she could be his mate. It doesn't always work like that, like it did for us." Esme allowed her burning instincts to take over, and tauntingly pressed her lips against his neck, kissing tenderly, until she reached the teeth shaped scars. There, she spent an extra moment.

"She detests that I changed her Esme, even now. Edward is just as unhappy about it ... Two years and they still hold it against me. And I am almost certain that Rosalie hates me for it," Carlisle muttered, lost in sorrowful thought. Rosalie was the newest member of their ever growing family and seemed to struggle the most with what she had unwillingly become. Carlisle had found her bleeding and close to death in a street of Rochester after a vicious attack that she now refused to speak of. He had only done what he thought was best; he had recognised the girl and knowing how lonely Edward was, he had though she would make the perfect companion for him. Carlisle shook his head gently; he never imagined he could have been so wrong.

"Carlisle, forget about it for now. Look at me," Esme shifted her voluptuous figure, turning Carlisle's larger, muscular shape towards her. "We don't often have the house to ourselves, do we?"

"I know, you're quite right." His lips twisted into a small smile as he pushed the thoughts of Rosalie and Edward out of his mind. For now, his wife was right, they needed to make the most of this delightful autumn evening together. The sun was setting for another day, and its rays of gold, red, amber, orange and purple danced tantalisingly off Esme's flawless, granite skin. Taking to his feet, Carlisle glided around to face his wife, taking delight in the anticipation of his touch he could see swirling in her eyes. As she began to shuffle naughtily back towards the headboard, he reached out, taking hold of her waist and pulling her up towards him. Before she even had the chance to make any sound of pleasure, he tilted his head, merging her lips with his. His hands ran down her spine, feeling every inch of his only prize in this world. Her body was tensed, still surprised at being plucked from her comfortable position on the large, four-poster bed. His lips began to explore the line of her jaw before making their way slowly down the front of her neck. His hands that firmly held her upright, pulled her closer into the shape of his own body. As he circled his fingers in the small of her back, Esme let out a little sigh of delight; he knew her favourite places to be touched all too well. With each circle they made, her body relaxed a little more until finally she was nothing but jelly in his hold. Her arms hung out to her sides, and her head fell slowly back as she allowed her husband to have her heart, her body and her mind and soul. As his lips roamed even further and down towards her breasts, Esme couldn't help but feel the tingle his lips left each time they momentarily left her skin, and a small, childish laugh escaped her lips.

"Well," she forced out breathlessly as one of his hands cupped her bottom. "This is new."

An even darker, more daring smile spread across Carlisle's now wild features, as he pulled her back towards him. His lips clashed again against hers with even more desperation and force than before, stealing the little remaining breath in her lungs. With surprising ease he lifted her from the floor, forcing her legs around his waist and clumsily stumbled back to the bed. One arm released her back, reaching out to stop them colliding with too much force on top of the bed. As they fell down, tangled together, he pushed them gracefully along the silk sheets until at last he allowed her body to touch the mattress. Esme's eyes widened with desire as she felt Carlisle press his own burning excitement against her thigh. That had done it, her mind soared to another dimension, what little defences she had created to tease him with, dispersed and her senses tingled and sparked with every touch. As Carlisle ran his hands up the inside of her leg and towards her thigh, a single moan of anticipation escaped her lips. His hands slid beneath her lightly dusted rose-pink blouse, feeling the warm skin beneath it. To any other human, she would have felt as cold as ice, but she was not with just any human. He was vampire, and he was hers. As another gasp of air burst from Esme's lips, Carlisle paused only long enough to see her teeth gently bite at the corner of her lip.

"Don't," he kissed her again, a devilish smile illuminating his features. "I want to hear everything you feel."

Knowing she was ready, that he had teased enough, one hand cupped her breast as the other pulled away from her back, around her stomach and down towards her pencil-grey skirt. As he broke the barrier her clothes created between them, and brought her even more delight, her arms flew out to her sides. Her hands grasped at the silky sheet beneath, as her back arched away and towards her husband. Shivers ripped through her causing every muscle to become more sensitive than she had thought possible. As he brought her almost to the point of exploding, she snarled, loudly and fiercely. Carlisle pulled himself up hastily, resting on one rippled arm, thinking he had hurt her. Though as he was about to ask if she was okay, she sprung herself up from the bed, pushed hard against his torso and sent him flying across the room. His eyes widened, unsure if this development in their lovemaking was good or bad, as he collided with the wall. The picture frame that had hung so peacefully to his left bounced and tumbled to the floor. The mirror to his right shook and smashed into several sharp shards that also spiralled towards the floor. As he watched one large piece spin downwards, he caught sight of Esme's reflection. His head spun back towards her, her position almost animalistic as she panted and sprang towards him.

"Love..." he began, suddenly feeling a little unnerved. Her usually neatly tied chestnut bun had become wild with several strands of hair now coming loose, and making their way down her back while others lay across her bright, beautiful eyes.

"Sssh," she encouraged hastily, slowing her spring to a sexy, slow saunter. As her hips mesmerized him, one gentle finger swung through the air to rest against his lips; words were not what she wanted right now. Esme waited a moment longer until he was once again smiling with delight, and she could see images of debauchery dancing in his eyes. Then, before he could even reach for her neck where he so desired to kiss, one of her nails glided swiftly down from his chest and through his trousers. He was about to remind her that this was his smartest, favourite suit she was tearing when her palms pressed against the muscles of his stomach in a tantalising manner. In a single, swift movement she tore away the shredded trousers and slid the jacket and shirt off his shoulders, exposing him completely to the elements about them.

"That's more like it," she grinned. Taking in her beauty, he ran one masculine finger across her lips, taking his hand behind her head in a cradling manor. He brought her closer to him, with the intention of ravaging her completely, when he realised one small problem...

"I find it highly unfair that you are dressed, my love, and I am not." His angelic features startled her momentarily, before she stepped back and swiftly removed her blouse, shoes, skirt, bra, and finally sliding out of her crystal white panties.

"Does that suit your requirements, my love," she taunted flirtatiously.

"It most certainly does."

This time, it was Esme who leant forwards to initiate the passionate, feisty kissing and lashing him with endless admiration. Barely able to contain himself any longer, Carlisle grasped Esme by her hips, spinning them around and pressing her firmly against the already dented wall. Esme smiled wickedly as she placed her steady hands on his shoulders in order to push herself up to her husband's level. As she did, Carlisle pulled her up, pressing her harder against the wall and pressing his body into hers. As she squealed delightfully, still desperately trying to keep down the noise, Carlisle refused to let her. As he bit, nibbled and licked at her neck, chest and lips, Esme attempted to reach down and take hold of his throbbing cock. But the moment he felt her move, he entered her, taking her by surprise, ecstasy and delight. The hand she had tried to find him with was quickly captured by his own and flung above her head where he held it firmly against the wall. He had her completely where he wanted her. Knowing that her husband was now in complete control, Esme growled sensually as she tilted her head and ran her teeth down his neck, allowing him to devour her completely. He thrust against her, not allowing her a second of rest. She dragged her nails across his back as he whispered her name, though it caught in his throat.

"CARLISLE!" a familiar male voice suddenly called out, and before either Carlisle or Esme knew what was happening, the bedroom door was flung open. To their horrified eyes, Edward flew into the room ... and rather quickly wished that he had knocked, or stayed outside, or not come home at all. Esme screamed in surprise, further startling Carlisle, and Edward. In her hurry to escape this rapidly escalating embarrassment, she pressed her feet against the wall and propelled herself forwards, knocking Carlisle backwards in her haste. Seeing nowhere fast enough to hide, she threw her naked body behind the bed, and as she fell to the ground, wrapped a fist full of bed sheet around her wrist and pulled it down over her. Edward on the other hand, had jammed his eyes shut and turned his back to his parents, mortifying horror almost knocking him from his sturdy feet; surely this was not real, just a trick of his obscure mind? It had to be. Realising what he had just partly witnessed, he began again for the door, his eyes now covered by his hands. Though as he reached the doorway, his exit was thwarted by the images and sounds of what had forced him home so soon, and realised that, as much as he REALLY wanted to, he could not leave. He would have to make conversation...

"Oh ... hell ..." Edward whined, shame for his parents lacing his usually mellow tone. Carlisle, who had been thrown back and had landed spread eagled on the floor, reached sheepishly up to take hold of anything he could get his hands on to cover himself. Luckily, a single pillow lay at the foot of the bed, which he snatched and placed over his exposed and still excited body.

"Edward!" Esme cried out, horror evident in her voice; though Edward was extremely grateful to hear and not see her this time.

"Esme?" Carlisle called back in a soft manner, trying to hold back laughter while verbally gauging if she was alright.

"Carlisle," Edward called in a harsher tone. He was insistent on speaking with him now.

"Yes, Edward?" Carlisle couldn't hold in his shameful laughter any longer, and through his deep chuckling he sat himself upright. "It's fine, I'm decent enough ... for now."

Esme's fingers slowly appeared on to the top of the mattress as she shyly forced herself to peek over the top of her thankfully placed shield of a bed. If her cheeks could have flushed, she would certainly have been mistaken for some sort of vegetable or fruit, maybe along the lines of a tomato, a strawberry even. As subtle as she believed her re-appearance to be, her dishevelled tangle of mischievous curls had given her hiding position away long before her shameful eyes had become visible above the mattress.

"What is it?" She finally asked in what should have been a breathless manner. Edward quickly composed himself, and after allowing his hand to drop to his sides once again, he slowly opened his eyes. What he had to say was not something he had ever expected to have to inform Carlisle and Esme of.

"It's Rosalie," he began in a worried, yet seemingly angry tone. Panic replaced the shocked expression of only a few moments ago.

"What now?"Carlisle sighed, prepared for another intervention of some sort.

"It's not what you think." Edward picked up a sweater of Carlisle's that lay by his feet and threw it to him, still aware that he was talking to the naked couple who were wearing nothing but shame. "She outright refused to hunt with me, so I let her go alone."

"Oh, Edward!" Esme exclaimed again, suddenly worried where this apparently important conversation was leading, but Edward raised his hand out before him to indicate that he was not concluded. Allowing him to continue talking, Esme hurriedly gathered clothes from the chest of draws behind her, and began dressing again.

"I kept track of her thoughts, to make sure she was safe..."

"Is she?" Carlisle interjected with concern, and clearly now to Edward's annoyance.

"I'm not sure. I can't believe she is even doing this ..." Edward shook his head as Esme, who was now fully dressed, headed across the room to his side. "She found a human."

"I see," Carlisle said in a low tone and quickly began to re-dress himself, knowing full well what Edward was referring too. Rosalie was still a relatively new vampire after all so she was bound to, though he hoped she would not, lose control at some point.

"She's bringing him here, Carlisle," Edward's eyes fixed firmly on Carlisle, no hint of a joke in his hard expression. "She's putting us all in danger."

"She fed from him?" Carlisle asked concernedly.

"No, not exactly..." Edward replied hesitantly.

"She's here," Esme announced as the scent of fresh blood drifted through the house.

"Carlisle! Esme!" Rosalie's distressed voice called out, echoing through the long corridors of their latest home. "Help! HELP ME."

Before Rosalie had even finished calling for their assistance, the three of them had already joined her in the living room. Edward and Esme halted at the door as they eyed the torn apart human, and the overwhelming scent of fresh, delicious blood attacked their willpower. Carlisle however, headed straight for Rosalie.

"Take him!" she instructed, her face showing all the signs of her struggle, her arms and clothes soaked in blood. The man in her arms was barely conscious, and much, much larger than Rosalie herself. His eyelids fluttered open every few seconds, and seemed to be trying to focus upon the small woman holding him. Across his chest were several extremely deep slashes that Carlisle knew instantly he would not be able to repair due to the visible fractured bones. From his quick examination, it also appeared as though one of his legs was broken, most likely into several pieces. That may be salvageable with a splint of some sort. Carlisle hastily refocused his worried eyes on Rosalie. Her lips quivered as she tried hard not to lean down and suck the remaining life from this poor man. Her brow was furrowed, but her eyes were wide with fear.

"Take ... him," she asked much weaker than before and with tremendous difficulty. Carlisle stepped closer and reached out his arms for the human, who was instantly dumped into them. As Rosalie released her grip on the man, Esme flew to her side, cupping Rosalie's face in her hands.

"How did you manage this, Rosalie?" she asked, trying to think of anything but the blood her daughter was covered in. "We should change your clothes. Edward, fetch some of Rosalie's fresh clothes."

"You cannot be serious," Edward growled, more focused upon Rosalie's thoughts than what was being asked of him. "She wants you to change him, Carlisle. After everything you have said Rose?"

Carlisle looked up from the patient he had carefully placed on their cream couch, confusion swirling in his eyes. The man moaned from the place that was soon to become his death bed. Rosalie did not answer or even acknowledge Edward or Esme, and pulled away from them. Holding her breath, she glided over to Carlisle's side, knelt beside him, and took hold of the dying man's hand. As the man's eyes fluttered open again, Rosalie stared down into them. They were a chocolate brown, though the blood surrounding them and the burst vessels against the white of his eyes made it hard to tell.

"Where did you find him?" Carlisle asked gently as he looked into her eyes. "You haven't fed from him. Good."

"He was in a clearing with a bear. It's dead now ... I was ... he smelt so ... good..." Carlisle shifted subtly closer to Rosalie as he could see her begin to be drawn in by the aroma of blood.

"I'm extremely proud of you Rose," he encouraged, as the man cried out again. "Esme, towels please."

"Proud of her?" Edward scoffed from the corner of the living room.

Carlisle glanced up, throwing Edward a warning look. "This must have been very hard for you to do. I am proud that you did not kill him."

"I ... couldn't..." She began, and as the man gurgled with the blood collecting in his throat, Rosalie flew to her feet. "SAVE HIM! Don't let him die. Do what you did to me."

"Rosalie, this is not something that should be decided lightly," Carlisle responded thoughtfully.

"Honey, I highly doubt she decided this on a whim. She has managed to resist his blood and bring him all the way here." Esme offered her opinion carefully as she flitted back into the room and handed Carlisle several fresh towels.

"One hundred miles," Rosalie recalled. The man on the couch cried out in agony, accidentally spitting a few specks of blood towards Rosalie. As they landed against her cheek, Rosalie's horrified eyes jammed shut as she hastily backed away and pressed her body into the wall. "Hurry! He's going to die!"

Carlisle examined the young man once again before glancing up towards his wife. "Edward, Rosalie ... leave us a moment please."

"No problem," Edward replied and after a quick concerned look to the human, was out of the door.

"NO. I won't go. I won't ..." Rosalie smiled softly to herself, a wave of calm washing through her as the man turned his head to look at her. "I won't leave him."

"Ang ...el," the man managed to say between weak coughs.

"I'm no angel," Rosalie murmured bitterly, a soft look in her eyes as she looked upon him.

Carlisle took to his feet and wiped the blood from his hands one of the towels. He could see Esme was struggling with the amount of blood, and knew this decision had to be made fast.

"What do think?" he asked, clearly unsure what to do for the best.

"I think there is something there, love." Esme turned to see Rosalie. "Look at the way she looks at him."

"You're right. But Rosalie has been so, hesitant, cruel at times about my turning her. Do you think changing that young man will be any different in her eyes?" Carlisle's brow creased into a frown.

"I think that she could be happy. Can we deny her that chance?" Esme soothed.

"I ... I'm not sure." Carlisle pressed his lips to Esme's forehead. "Could you see if Edward is alright? I'll see to Rosalie."

As Esme left, Carlisle returned to the sofa, kneeling once again. As he did, Rosalie flew once again to his side, wanting to be near her new found human. Carlisle took the man's arm in his cold, hard hands and glanced up to Rosalie who stood nervously over him.

"If this will make you happy ... If you will forgive me for turning you ... then ... I can change him. He is dying Rosalie, so I am breaking no rules." It was unsure who Carlisle was trying to convince, himself, or his daughter.

"I cannot promise to forgive you, Carlisle. But I can learn to live with it. Save him, for me, and I will be eternally grateful to you." Rosalie placed a shaking hand on his shoulder as she looked pleadingly into his eyes.

"I should ask you to leave, but I am sure you will refuse," Carlisle chuckled half-heartedly.

"You're right, I would."

With that said, Carlisle watched as Rosalie turned and glided to the window. He looked back to the boy, almost certain that he was going to do the right thing for both the human and his daughter. Maybe he was the one for Rosalie. Maybe he would make things right here again. The man squirmed in Carlisle's grasp as his final, desperate breaths forced their way from his lungs and through his drained of colour lips. Knowing he only had seconds, Carlisle apologised to him, pressed the man's weak arms to the Sofa, closed his eyes and let his lips cut through the warm flesh easily.

That was the easy part, the hard part, was stopping.

A/N: I hope you like! At the moment this is a one shot – but I may write more soon as I am loving writing Carlisle and Esme. Shall see where it goes. Please leave a review and let me know what you think, if you like, hate, want more... thank you!