I've never attempted anything like this before, but I've always wanted to try a limited word count. Tell me how I went?
Word count: 250
There had always been on thing Carlisle had never told Esme about. Not ever. They spoke about everything, but never this. Because it was stupid and they were adults.
Yet one night when he woke up, nauseous and cold, unable to stop shaking, he couldn't stand it any longer. He shifted closer to her, brushing a loose strand of hair off her face for an excuse to touch her, to prove that she really was real, that she was still there and it was just a irrational dream. They hadn't really hurt her. Not really. She was fine.
He slid even closer, hugging her tightly, absolutely craving comfort. Even the scent of her was calming, the close proximity of her something that he'd never get used to.
"Carlisle?" she asked, sleep lacing her tone as she wrapped her arms around him, confused but accepting.
"I'm sorry," he answered automatically, resting his head against her shoulder.
"Are you alright?" And there it was; the question he had been dreading. Physically, yes, he was fine, but mentally he was shaken and afraid.
"I'm okay." It was easier to lie than explain the truth. Especially this truth.
But Esme knew. She always did, even though nothing had ever been said. "What happened, love?"
"They took you," he whispered, his hold around her tightening a little. "You were gone."
She didn't ask who 'they' were, or what 'gone' meant. It was unimportant. Irrelevant. Instead she answered: "I will never leave you, Carlisle. Not ever."