Subtitled: Twilight, Why Carlisle Shouldn't Hook Up in Modern Day/The Reason
What if Carlisle never turned Esme? He had Alice, Bella, Edward, Emmet, Jasper, Renesmee, Rosalie--but NOT Esme?
The storyline MIGHT change and title too.
~This is just for fun-I wished on a shooting star that I could own Carlisle, but it hasn't happened . . . yet.~
(Rated T just to be safe)
The Reason: Hoobastank
"I'm not a perfect person
There's many things I wish I didn't do
But I continue learning
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know
"I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
And the reason is you."
~The Beginning of the End~
Carlisle's POV
"Dr. Cullen, please report to room 196," the speakerphone screamed in my ears.
Sheesh, don't they ever think about people who have supersonic hearing?
I was striding down the hall, fastening my lab coat after a small 'snack' of my 30 minute break. The tiles on the floor weren't clean from the last flu patient we had taken in, and I had to leap over it, avoiding stepping in it with the new leather shoes that Alice had gotten me.
I took a clipboard from the crates as I passed by the room, taking a deep breath and pushing the doors open. I really needed to work on my entrances if I was going to try and stay inconspicuious. People stared too much, and being presumed that I was not much older than 25―was pretty insane for someone like me. Edward and Bella were in Canada, still searching for somethings to feed on before they went to graduation―again. The rest of the family was at home,
"Hello, Ms. Evanson," I said, knowing that I had frightened my patient with my looks already, now my voice. "It says here―you need stitches?"
Ms. Evanson sighed, clutching one arm as a large gash made blood run down her shirt and to her dress. She looked up at me, her wavy hair flipping and bouncing as her caramel hair shone brightly and shimmered as if there were carefully implanted glitter pieces in her hair. Her eyes were so golden, you would believe that she was already a vampire.
And for once in my life, I was speechless.
"Yep, that's me," her voice piped, sweet and anything but sour. "If you didn't come in right away, I would have done it myself."
She was cute. I liked her attitude. Alice would be pleased.
Alice.
I couldn't.
Ms. Esme Anne Evanson.
I couldn't do it to her. I couldn't turn her unless she was dying. That was what I had taught my children―I couldn't go against it now.
"I . . . umm . . . you . . ." I stuttered. Get a grip, Carlisle! "Yes."
"Will you be sure that I'll be out of here soon?" she whispered. "I've got to get home before my parents come searching for me."
I sat down in the chair beside her, pulling out the materials I needed to sew up the bleeding gash and the medicine. I nodded, and she stared at me.
"I'll try my best," I said in an assuring voice. "Why would your parents be looking for you? You're old enough to be living by yourself."
She laughed, beautiful and uneasiness mixed together. I took her arm and her head snapped around to look at me. My icy touch. She gave me a precious look that lasted a second, and I smiled back, her eyes dancing as she was about to swoon. I looked away, not needing to know that she was amused by me.
"Oh, I just gave them a scare," she winced, looking away from her arm as the blood oozed out. "I said I was . . . um . . . going to take my life."
I stopped sewing her arm, staring at the floor for a couple of seconds and tapping my foot.
"You shouldn't say such things to doctors," I said in a hurry, paying my attention back to the wound. "We would send you to a phsyciatrist."
I could hear her heartbeat pick up pace, thudding against her chest where the blood pumped, rushing to her cheeks in a pleasant blush.
Blood.
How could I want blood after what I had just feasted on?
"It's okay," she sighed, standing up as I finished the last knot, wiping up the blood on her arm. "I know you won't tell."
I watched her stride out, a few nurses leading her out as she beamed one last time, nodding to me before disappearing. And for once in my life, I felt something. In my cold, heart of steel body, she had managed to reach in as if it was air and hold my icy, dead heart in her palm and brought it to life with a single touch. And for once since being a newborn, I thirsted for blood. Her blood to be specific.
Rushing into the locker room, I pulled out my cell phone, in a rush, I pressed the speed dial button and she answered on the first ring.
"Alice," I breathed into the speaker. "We have a problem."
(any suggestions for title? or is it good the way it is?)
....