Edward sat in almost complete stillness, at the black grand piano placed just off center of the Cullen household. His long, thin fingers danced across the keys as he played a sad and slow classical song. Bella had been listening to him play for hours. He looked at his beautiful wife who had been resting her head on his shoulder, not because she was tired but to be close to him. Her long mahogany hair draped across his shoulder, cascading down his back. The corners of his mouth came up ever so slightly as he looked at the love of his existence. Her golden eyes looked back into his. She had been enjoying the music, but mostly she had been enjoying just looking at his perfect angelic face. A face so glorious, she felt that she could look at it forever and never stop marveling. A thrill of delight ran through her knowing that those strong hands that caressed the keys to make their music were the same ones that touched her, and he was all hers.
Feeling the complete love and adoration of his wife, he quickly changed the song he was playing to a sweet lullaby. A smile spread wider across Bella's face as she recognized the tune that Edward began to play. The song he had written. Her song. She let her mind shield down and let Edward read her memories of when they first met.
As the sound vibrated off the piano strings the song lifted and filled the house. Even without the Cullen family's sensitive hearing, the lullaby could be heard all the way up the stairs to Carlisle's study. Esme, knowing what song her son was playing, giggled lightly to herself with joy at the touching notes. She began humming along as she continued to sketch Carlisle from different angles. He had been sitting reading the newest studies and medical journals behind his large wooden desk. His expression of intense concentration was drawn dozens of times in all of Esme's pages. He was her preferred subject to draw. Every now and then they would lock eyes and gaze at each other passionately before returning to their respective activities.
Both of them gave an exasperated sigh as they heard Emmett grumbling at the television downstairs and letting out a long string of profanities. Emmett was quickly getting frustrated with the human speed of the so-called professional sports players. He had been flipping through channel after channel trying to find something interesting to watch. He sat on the sofa with his large muscular body taking up a third of the family room couch. He flipped franticly as he was mulling over the idea of whether or not he should try to sneak attack Jasper or go out to the garage where Rose was fixing cars.
Jasper was sitting like a sleeping statue, though none of them ever slept. His legs were on the couch criss-crossed, with his back straight. Though he had no need to breath he still made sure to make steady, even, slow, breaths connecting with the emotions surrounding him. He felt the passion radiating from Edward and Bella, the love of Esme and Carlisle, the anger from Rosalie and the frustration from Emmett. But there was something else in Emmett's frustration… anticipation, a bit of excitement? His adrenaline was without a doubt higher than usual. Either he was planning later events with Rosalie, the private kind, or he was ready to attack someone. Last but not least he was feeling Alice. His Alice. She was sending wave after wave of love and respect in his direction, and he felt each euphoric wave. In turn he was activating the pleasure center of her brain ever so slightly, just enough to have her flying high.
Alice was on the computer looking up the newest fashions and styles. She was checking her stocks and staying on top of the most recent pop-culture. She was doing all of these things half-heartedly however because she was feeling Jaspers effects, and sending him as much love and affection as she could. If she had a working heart it would be thudding. In her mind she was thinking about their past together and also taking peeks into their future. She felt sentimental and her need of him intensified with each passing vision. Suddenly she had a flash of a possible future of Emmett attacking Jazz, them getting too heated and Rosalie coming in with wrench still in hand to break up the fight. Alice smirked to herself and listened closely for Rose. She was not in a good mood, and working on her cars was not helping.
Rosalie threw around her tools huffing. She was in no mood to deal with anyone at the moment, which is why she retreated to the garage. Mumbling something which sounded something like "smelly mutts" she fixed her cars with such precision that she didn't even ruin her nail polish. Rose took pride in the fact that she could fix cars and never get a drop of oil on her clothes. She hated being anything but radiant.
And it was this scene, or something close to it, that Renesmee Cullen often came home to.