Welcome dear potential future readers! I'm new to this site and still getting a hang of it, but I really couldn't wait any longer to share my work.. so here I am! Know that I have a secret obsession with Carlisle Cullen, though mysteriously, not so much with Twilight (please don't hate me!).. It isn't like I don't like Twilight but it isn't one of those series I would totally fangirl over lolol.. also, I've never really read or written fanfictions before but a sudden urge to write one myself has driven me to this.. feel free to suggest any of your (or other people's!) works you think are worth the read
Anyways, coming to Carlisle.. I adore his pairing with Esme and their history... but, I was kind of let down when I watched the movies since they didn't exactly... blend into each other.. ? So, as much as I love them together and love Esme, she won't be in this story... well, she could be with a different name and history with Carlisle and possibly a slightly different physical description.. hehe.. Again, please don't hate me.. this story is going to revolve around another character named Lillian and her relationship with Carlisle. I guarantee it to be full of most of, if not all, the cliches you've ever read and more! I can't think of much more to say right now but I'll add stuff on as we move along.
Oh yes! I remembered! A speck of this story was inspired by the song, A Thousand Years, which I'm sure all Twlighters know... and also that this first part is going to be pretty short since its just kind of the introduction... And I guess the whole story will be in a third person's POV... lastly, please do remember this is my first fragile little attempt at writing for an actual audience so criticize all you want cause I am going to need it! :D So here we go...
It was the 3rd of January.
Snow plummeted to the ground from clouds which hid the twinkling stars. Biting cold wind pushed against the glass of the study window, as if begging it to be opened to seek comfort in the lit fireplace housed within. It was the kind of blizzard people hated to talk about, worried that they may summon it just my taking its name.
They slept through it, those ignorant souls; huddled into warm blankets, abandoned cups of steaming hot chocolate on the bedside tables left untended till the morning. They were imperfect, the humans. Their minds, their memory, their skills, their actions were all imperfect, clumsy. They were destructible by the slightest force, incompetent in face of obstacles. These were the imperfections of humans. These were the fatal imperfections which made humans different from every other kind of creature to walk this earth.
Oh, but how much Carlisle would wish to attain these imperfections. Such was his longing to forget, to fall, to scar, to sleep, that even after 400 years of his new life, he could not bring himself to revel in his perfections. Of course, he had used these very perfections to the benefit of the humans, with 4 centuries of acute medicinal memory. But alas, that made him no more human than any other of his kind.
He sighed and stood up from behind his desk. The paperwork could wait. He didn't have a shift until tomorrow noon and it wasn't like he had to sleep at all. A chuckle escaped his lips and he mocked his own misery.
Edward was with Bella tonight. Alice and Rosalie had gone hunting, though where they'd find anything in this weather, he didn't know. The sound of laughter cut through his thoughts and warmed his still heart. Emmet and Jasper had taken the opportunity to throw giant snowballs at each other and were obviously making the most of it.
"And THAT's how a pro does it!" Emmet's voice came from somewhere outside the house.
At least there was no death, he thought. He had a family of sorts. Apart from Edward, all his children were happily married, living everyday of forever with zeal, their love and affection for each other growing day by day. Even Edward had found Bella. And soon, they would be married, just like the others; happy and so much in love that even eternity didn't seem long enough.
A loud thump resounded through the house, followed by Jasper's voice carrying a steely, yet amused tone, "And THAT is why pros don't turn their back on their enemy to make a show of popping their knuckles."
Another thump implied that snowballs had been abandoned for no-nonsense wrestling once again.
Carlisle smiled, for real this time. No, there was no death. There was no losing any of his family to any sort of plague or disease or infection. It was enough reason to continue his soulless existence for Carlisle.
The strong wind continued to blow.
Soaring trees bent at its will.
Leaves rustled in unison, creating the effect of a loud, prevalent whisper, as if the forest was hiding a scandalous secret within itself.
And then Carlisle heard it.
He heard it over the familiar voices of his sons wrestling outside. He heard it over the rustling of the leaves and the howling of the wind. The sound was of footsteps. Fast moving steps; too fast to belong to a human.
His shoulders stiffened and his sharp eyes surveyed the view of the forest his study overlooked, searching for the source of the noise. It seemed to be getting closer; much closer.
His forehead creased as he tried to determine which direction the sound was coming from.
The footsteps were light and measured, but quick.
He concentrated some more.
Whoever, or whatever, was approaching wasn't far now.
Carlisle eyed the forest. What was the secret, he wondered.
Here it came.
A streak of blur came to a standstill on the other side of the window.
Carlisle couldn't breathe. Not that he had to anyway.
His golden irises widened.
His throat clenched.
Something or maybe everything inside him did a somersault. He couldn't tell anymore.
He couldn't tell. He couldn't think. He couldn't speak. He couldn't believe it after 4 centuries.
She was here.
But how? She was human when he had left that night. Her freckled skin had been the color of wheat, her eyes a violent green. Her light brown hair had been pulled back into a braid then, as it was now, with a few tendrils sticking out here and there after a long day. But now, now her hair was all that remained the same. Her skin was alabaster white, and her eyes a golden much like his own. The freckles were nowhere to be seen, although the tiny beauty spot on her right cheek was still visible. He looked back into her golden eyes, which stared right back into his. There was no trace of emotion in those orbs. She was obviously calculating him up too. They both had changed. But they recognized each other; the silence they stood in now greatly reminding them of a similar silence centuries ago.
Carlisle's eyes softened, finally. Satisfied that she was the same 14 year old he had left behind that night, he opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't find himself able to.
She still stared at him, her eyes now filled with worry, the edges of her lips sinking fractionally as she tried to read him to see what he would do now.
Understanding this, Carlisle simply smiled a small smile, full of adoration for an old friend.
He wanted to say something comforting, so she wouldn't be scared away. At the same time, he had so many questions he wanted to ask. What had happened after that night? When had she been changed? What of her family? How had she found him after all this time? Thousands, maybe millions, more swarmed his mind, but nothing came.
He realized he could not form a proper sentence, not after such a shock, not just yet.
So he said the only thing that came to his lips, the name that he had just recently learnt to forget in 400 years, the name of this old friend,
"Lillian." He breathed.
Well, that's chapter 1 done and dusted! =) Shoot me a review of what you think? Constructive criticism is always appreciated!
And don't forget to recommend any special works you read or write! :D