Risk and Reward
Author: Ebony
Characters/Pairing: Esme/Carlisle
Rating: PG/K+
Disclaimer: Twilight and all the characters belong to Stephenie Meyer.
Word Count: 1,038
Summary: He had imagined so many scenarios when he would ask her. He had imagined how he would ask her, where he would ask her, and most importantly, how she would respond. Pre-Twilight, Esme/Carlisle.
Author's Note: This was written as a response to a Twilight prompt fic challenge for the prompt "risk". Warning: seriously sugary fluff ahead! Feedback is always appreciated.
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He had imagined so many scenarios when he would ask her. He had imagined how he would ask her, where he would ask her, and most importantly, how she would respond.
The latter was a question he had no answer to, and he was quite honestly somewhat afraid to find out. What if she declined? No doubt she would let him down gently as was her wont, but how would she feel about the situation afterwards? Their dynamic would be forever altered, what if she felt pressured and uncomfortable, what if she would pity him?
"Just ask her!" Edward had finally hissed one night under his breath, seemingly ready to tear out his own hair out of frustration for his father's never-ending what ifs regarding the topic. It seemed all he was able to think about, recently, and he wasn't surprised Edward had caught wind of his tumultuous thoughts.
Edward's seemed like a sound advice: after all, he would never know if he didn't just ask her. But every time he gathered his courage and determination, the possible dire consequences always came back to haunt him.
What if, God forbid, she would be upset enough to leave? The mere thought was horrifying. He couldn't take such a terrifying chance based on his own, self-serving desires, could he? He could not - would not - be another selfish man in her life coveting only what he wanted with no regard to her feelings and desires. He would never do that to her. No, it was better to keep quiet, at least for now. Maybe later, he would consider this again, when they both would be ready for this - they had all the time in the world. He wouldn't rush her.
His mind had been made up, but it only took one sunny afternoon in the secluded forest near their house to utterly demolish all his best laid plans.
She stood on a round, mossy rock by a babbling brook, bare footed, the hem of her dress bunched in one hand as she extended a white leg and dipped her toes in the cold water playfully. A lone ray of sunlight penetrated the thick foliage above and illuminated her caramel brown hair, millions of diamonds glittering on her pale neck. She was the most glorious thing he had ever seen. Transfixed by the sight of her, the dreaded words blurted out of his mouth before he fully had the chance to think.
"Marry me, Esme."
She dropped the hem of her dress and turned around, eyes wide and mouth parted in surprise. He ceased to breathe, struck motionless by dread, inwardly cursing his foolishness. He was not supposed to do this! He had promised himself he would wait, to give her more time. And none of his imaginations about proposing to Esme had involved blurting it out so bluntly after a hunting trip. She deserved better than that. How boorish and inconsiderate of him!
"What did you say?" her quiet whisper interrupted his inner self-accusations.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, shaking his head. Maybe the situation was still salvageable. Perhaps he could explain, convince her not to leave him. "I didn't meant to say that. Not right now... Esme, I'm so sorry, I truly--"
"I can't believe..." her tone was breathless by astonishment, and Carlisle nearly winced. She was upset, just like he'd feared.
"You must believe how sor--"
The air stirred around him and her scent flooded his nose abruptly, slender fingers pressing lightly against his lips to cut off his words. Carlisle almost trembled at the intimacy of the touch. Leaving his lips, the fingers touched his cheek tentatively, and he opened his eyes to find himself gazing into the warm gold of her irises.
"Carlisle..." she whispered, and the sound of his name from her lips made a shiver travel down his spine. "...Ask me again?"
Her eyes beseeched him, and there was such heartbreaking vulnerability reflected on her face he couldn't have disobeyed her even if he'd wanted to. Swallowing, he raised a hand and gently caressed the smooth skin of her jaw line with his fingers.
"Esme..." his voice was low, nearly a whisper. Emotion overcame him, and he struggled with the impossible task of trying to convey the depth of his feelings in words. "My heart. You are dearer to me than anything in this world. I am so deeply, utterly in love with you. Please, marry me?"
Esme drew in a sharp breath, but her eyes never strayed from his. The silence only lasted for a moment, but it felt like a century to Carlisle. Slowly, a beautiful, happy smile spread to Esme's lips.
"Yes. Yes, I'll marry you, happily. I love you," she said, eyes shining as she confessed softly, "I've always loved only you."
Their lips crashed together a fraction of a second later with all the ardor they had both held at bay for months, fingers tangling in each others hair, elation coursing through their very beings. Carlisle held Esme tightly to him, simply because he could. Weeks worth of indecision and doubt melted away a bit more with every brush of Esme's soft lips against his own: nothing else mattered anymore, his world compressed and concentrated only on her, the feel of her in his arms - nothing had ever felt more right to him.
She said yes, his mind supplied deliriously. She would stay with him, beside him, now and forever, and he would adore her until the end of all time.
They embraced until Esme pulled back slightly with a small laugh of delight, speaking in teasing tone against his lips, "It took you long enough to ask, Dr. Cullen. Despite my fondness for traditions, I was starting to believe I would have to ask you, instead."
"Perhaps you should have, my love. It might have saved us some time," Carlisle grinned.
Esme laughed. "Trust me. Next time we are facing a big decision, I will make certain you won't waste time dithering. Now," she paused, and Carlisle marveled how she could look so innocent and yet so devious at the same time, "Kiss me again?"
As it was, Carlisle was all too happy to oblige his bride-to-be.
(fin)