Author's Not-So-Little Note: (Because nothing is really little with me! Hahahaha!) So here's the dealio, my friend, Mary, gave me a writing prompt. A very vague and small one. She basically came over to my territory, and by that I mean desk at school, shoved a pen and paper from her hands to me, telling me to write her a story.

A Carlisle love story.

And so I did.

And this is the outcome. It might be terrible, but I slack off at being 'great'. I don't want to be too great, you know, because this is a CRACK FIC!

Please remember that as you read this, because I'm pretty sure they are not accurate. LOL! Nor do they even remotely make sense, but anyway...

Hope you enjoy this little tid-bit with our Papa Carli! =D

Kinda long for a 'one-shot'-esque story, but it's only staying that way because I can't think of any ~*brilliant!*~ plot twists (sadly). If you have suggestions to make this thing wackier and zanier, please don't hesitate to suggest! =]

In love, there's always stupidity. This I have to find out the hard way. I will tell you about my story. About a love and a love lost between two people who have something… something that will always be locked away behind a mask of pretend.

I was young and he was old – oh he was very, very old. Like really old! I was 5 and he was six…-ty. And ten years later, I was 15 and he was 70. DUH! Do the math! And then he asked me if I'm still a virgin and then I replied "what do you think?"

*wink wink, nudge nudge*

After that, life has been peaches and cream, strawberry and whipped cream and pink furry handcuffs every night. Okay, every other night… Wednesdays through Saturdays; maybe even Sundays at 11AM-11PM. WE just didn't have sex, we made ~*LOVE*~ to the ominous music playing somewhere in the background—I don't know where but I don't care. He was super duper hot and I super duper liked it. But he was so noisy so I often left the room after we fucked, no time for cuddling after. But I especially loved it whenever he would dig his nails behind my soft and supple back, leaving scratches that I would just say to my classmates that were because of my cat. "But you don't have a cat!" and "Your cat is crazy!" are some of their responses, and I just say: "Oh you have no idea." And they don't.

And then one fateful day, when I came home from school, I shouted "Honeycocopuffs! I'm ready for my afternoon delight." I was smiling because I've been waiting for this the whole day, or rather the whole 7 hours since we last did it. But then, I was only greeted by a frown on his frowning face. And yet, he still looked gorgeous. Oh Carlisle, if you only knew how beautiful you are! I bet you do because of what I've been "giving" you every night. Just so you know, I'm a huge giver.

"Jilyann, we have to talk." Uh-oh. Those four words. (Not counting my name.) And I noticed, he called me by my name instead of sugarumpypumpkin lips – which was his pet name for me. Oh that Carlisle, so sweet! I straightened up and looked at him with a serious face. "What is it, Carli?" I waited for what seems like forever… and a day…

"I'm married."

After 5 years, I became 20. I waited for him all the while but he was gone. After our last day together – the same day he told me about his real identity – he was gone. I took his leaving to heart. I tried to make him stay. He tried to make me go away.

He even tried telling me absurd things to make me want to leave him; things like he was a vampire. But then he warned me, frantically adding that I was in no danger to him, that he would never harm or bite me. In an attempt to make him stay, seduction was the name of the game. I told him: I wouldn't mind getting bitten – especially by him! I wiggled my eyebrows, suggestively a playful smile on my face, but he wouldn't budge. "I even think vampires are sexy." I added.

After seeing that smug and satisfied look on his face, I thought I had won him over. But I certainly didn't know his strength of his vampire perseverance. He had let me go. I tried everything to get him back those 5 years. I searched for him all over town, but to no avail. I didn't even eat apples anymore because they say that it keeps doctors away. And now, I am ready to let him go… until!

*KNOCK! KNOCK!*

"Who's there?" I answered, with my voice. I opened the door, with my hand. What I saw next shocked and enraged me all at the same time. I don't know which came first but all I wanna do right then was leap from the door, close the space between us and kiss this stranger crazy. But I didn't do that; instead I just stood there. My psyche decided that it would be the latter emotion that would win. So instead of looking like I was pleased to see him, and I really was, I punched his shoulder and shouted "where have you been?! Why just now?!"

I guess I must have a crazed look on my darling features since his close-lipped smile – which I usually melt over, just at the mere thought of it – then turned to a frown and a look of worry then sorry. I have to admit, he even looks good looking like that.

O Carlipoo, how am I supposed to get mad at you when you're looking like that?! I can't believe what I just gave away. Now, I can't take it back. I don't wanna get lost; I don't wanna live my life without you. How am I supposed to slam the door of rejection in his face when he's looking like that?! He then tried to take me aside by putting both of his hand on my sides. But I had certainly underestimated this man's strength (and charms; the very moment he laid his hands on me, I was sold. Electric. Shocks. Went. Throughout my being. This touch, although cold, felt hot to me – hatsss…! It's getting hot in here, so take off all your clothes…)

"Suga—I mean, Jilyann, we have to talk."

Those words brought me back to the real world again. What he said reminded me of the last time he had said those things. It always didn't mean good. But this time, it was different. We went inside my house, shaking away all the old newspapers and ratty old rags, pizza boxes, beer bottles and Coke cans out of the way. Hey, he never told me that he'd come and visit! As soon as we sit down, the actual awkwardness took over. "Jilyann." He said. "Carlisle." I said. It felt weird to have his name rolling off my tongue after so many years. I never talked about him to anyone, except to Becky, my diary. After a year of our separation, I decided on just calling him He Who Must Not Be Named. Even back then, I didn't call him his first name, it's either honeycocoapuffs or Dr. Cullen used in a very promiscuous way. Never Carlisle, his first name.

"Jilyann. Jill. Jilly." He said again, cutting the silence that was thickening between us. I did the same to him "Carlisle. Carl. Carlie." I was enjoying saying his name, obviously. But that must've tired him out because he sighed next and then asked me how I was doing. The nerve of that sexy man! Just asking me how I was doing after five years worth of absences?! I replied, "well pretty good after you ruined me so bad I considered dating girls for a while. What happened to you, Carlisle?! How come you never called—or text, or emailed—even wrote to me because I know that's your thing!?" I burst out, my rage surprising him and even me.

"Didn't you receive my letters?" he combated, his face remaining in its calm pretty state.

I resisted the urge to grab him and do naughty things to him.

"What letters?"

"The one I wrote you." Well, duh, of course you have to write to make letters. But the question is: did I receive them? I looked out to my front yard, directing my eye sight to my neglected mailbox; burgeoning, overflowing and bursting with mails. A particular one stood out, a heart-shaped chocolate box, with a picture of heart-shaped chocolates inside, and there was even a heart-shaped card with my name on it. Made from hearts.

I quickly ran over to my mailbox and took them all out.

I sat next to him and read his letter out: "Dear Jilyann—OH! That's me! You did write to me." I glanced to him, a wide smile brightening my face. He laughed a bit, music to my ears, I tell ya! "But wait, there's more!" I placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back a bit for a little space between us. It would hurt so much more to be attached to him again, and have him get away. I can't handle him leaving again.

"Switzerland is awesome. I'm here with my family. Here's a picture enclosed with this letter. Next to me is my wife, Esme. Then there's my son, Emmett, next to him Is his girlfriend Rosalie. Then there's Alice, a sweet lively child, she reminds me of you. Next to her is Jasper, the new addition to our family." This gave me the impression that Carlisle liked adopting children. Well, why can't he adopt me?! So we could go everywhere together? But then again, that wouldn't go well if people knew about our ~*FORBIDDEN *insert apple here* LOVE*~. "What, so your Esme couldn't produce kids?" I bit back to him sourly. This made him looked hurt. Hurt in the beautiful way. I regretted saying what I said right then, but I went on.

"I'm sooooooo sorry I have to leave without saying goodbye. But you should know that I'm not good with goodbyes either. It is so hard to get away from you when I'm totally and irrevocably in love with you. Oh Jily, my sugarumpypumpkin lips, how I missed you so! But let's face it: we are worlds apart. You think the interenet is the greatest thing that happened to this world, while I think Penicillin is an ingenious help to mankind. Britney Spears is your favorite artist while I think Johannesburg is mine. You're probably asking who Johannesburg is, but if I were there with you I'll just say: 'See!'. Because—see! We're that different. One major thing that tore us apart is that you're alive and living while I'm dead and... well, living."

At this point, I paused from reading the letter and shot him a look. A look of being tired from his crap. "What is with this bampire business again?" I asked him. It was about a minute or two later, when someone bursted through my living room, that I realized... he wasn't kidding.

"I KNEW IT! I knew it! You were up to no good, Carlisle. I can't believe you! Cheating on Esme, that's a new low! I know you're having a mid-life crisis, Carlisle, but this is not the way, man!"

I looked over to the tall dark (and handsome) man standing proudly before us. He looked like an Adonis, in native American form. Carlisle probably noticed the love struck look in my eyes because he then quipped up. "Jacob, what are you doing here?" His voice was calm and stable, and yet commanding and kinda eerie and scary for a while. "Aww, well, uhh.." the boy—wait, the man—then looked uncomfortable and guilty, he began scratching the back of his neck. A sheepish smile forming on his face.

"Oh well, you know, Doc! I'm just in town. You know, strolling around, getting a latté, chat with the guys, follow you around and ride some motorbikes... you know, the usual." Jacob said so casually and yet so guiltily, that I began to think it was cute. I mean, he was cute.

"What are you doing here, Jacob?" Carlisle asked him again, again sighing as he thinks so. He was getting tired of Jacob quickly, I figured. It was then that Jacob straightened out and told him the truth: "I heard Nessie's with you."

Now it was my time to be confused. As if I haven't been the whole time since this hunk broke through my front door. "Who's Nessie?" I asked Carlisle, turning to him to whisper. Not really wanting to interfere with their conversation. Hey, I haven't seen Carlisle talk to much people outside of the hospital, so it was nice seeing him interact with a nice normal guy.

"Well, do you see Renesmee with me?" Oooh Carlisle's losing his patience!

"Well, no." Jacob admitted, and at this point, he looked like he was a boy again, like he was earlier when he looked guilty. "But... but..." he managed to catch up, "now I've got dirt on you Carlisle! What are you doing with her?!" he flat-out said it, his index finger pointing to the direction of me. The tone on his voice when he said me was rather like he was disgusted.

I didn't like it.

And now I don't like him. I huffed and turn away from him. "Carlisle, can you please tell me what's going on here?" I asked him, practically begging but with growing irritation.

"It's not important, sugar, but what you have to know is this," he paused and turned his whole body to look me straight in the eyes, and held my hands in his. So far, it was the closest he has ever come to being affectionate since he arrived here. "I love you," he told me. And there was no hint of joking or maliciousness in his voice, nor on his face. For some reason, I felt guilty and I looked down on our hands entwined together. "And I have something to prove it!" Carlisle declared one of his hands leaving ours and laid it on his shirt, pulling on it to reveal a small of his chest.

GASP!

In there was a hardcore-looking tattoo of my name. Well, kinda. It said JELOVE. (Jello-love) My intials were J.E.L, as in Jilyann Ezra Lockhart. Whatever the O was, I don't know.

"JELOVE?"

"I have to make it inconspicuous." Carlisle explained. I just shrugged in response; after all, he does have a wife. It would be weird if your husband has a tattoo of some other girl's name but yours on his chest.

I would've said a lot more if he was dragged away by that big dark dude. But alas, I looked at him longingly as he left. As much as I wasn't impressed or happy with the tattoo (I was expecting something that was entirely hardcore and lovely and has skulls and hearts all over, maybe even my face on it), I didn't want him to go. Five years, eleven months and twenty days (I count!) had passed by with me not ever getting to see him—let alone, talk to him. Could you blame me if I wanted him to stay? Even for a while? Like, one day is a while... or maybe a week... a year?!?

But he was gone.

It was as simple as that. Just like last time, he was just gone.

"Wait!" I managed to call out, croaking in my tears the size of a small baseball; looking down because I didn't want him to see how needy I am of him... of his touch. "Why don't you guys just... stay here for a while? Just for the night anyway?" I said, with my voice that pretty much sounded a little unsure for the first time today. Damn, and my plan was to not let them—him—see my weakness!

When I gathered up enough courage to face them, all I see was Jacob standing behind Carlisle, shaking his head, whispering to him: "Carlisle, you know better than to do this," he said in the most mature and advising voice I've heard from him since I've met him (which is just not even 5 minutes ago!) as he laid a hand on Carlisle's shoulders. A sign that they should go.

But Carlisle's expression remained firm and unreadable as ever. For a while, he reminded me of one of the guys in the family portrait he brought along—that Jasper fellow? They both have the same firm and mysterious look on their faces, only on him it looks a little more aged and softer. Just the way I liked it, baby! But I didn't like it now because for the moment, my heart just pounded in my chest hard, my breathing accelerating, my mind was already thinking of the many scenes where in he would say no. Well, better that he would say no and cut me off any false hopes rather than just leave me with the hopes that he'll come back... like last time. I thought.

I waited patiently for his answer.

Jacob waited too.

And we waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Then Carlisle sighed, making me jolt a bit since it was the first sound in a long while. "What?!" I exclaimed, shocked a bit. Oh wait... and then yeah, I remembered what was going on. "So are you going to stay?" I asked him casually.

Instead of getting his answer, the one that I—well, we (Jacob and me) have been waiting for a long time, he just turned to Jacob and said: "I got to think about this."

Frustrated, I couldn't help but let out a roar. Because normal people roar when they're frustrated.

And Carlisle likes that in the bedroom. Rawr, Carlisle, succumb to my feminine seduction! Come, stay with me... I tried to hypnotize him though to no avail. I was just so desperate.

I guess my exasperation was quite obvious, since Jacob, the tall dark one, said "okay, fine." He sighed, throwing his hands up in the air (and waving it like he just didn't care!) in resignation. "We'll stay."

"So that's just it? We were just waiting for Mr. Clean's approval here?!" I said, outraged. I turned to look at Carlisle only to find a playful smirk on his face, like he knew it all along.

Well this is going to be a long night...

DISCLAIMER: Any TWILIGHT-related things in here, are not owned by me. If it was, I wouldn't have named Eddie and Bella's baby Renesmee.

Oh yeah, and I don't claim any rights over whatever song lyric I've suddenly put in there. On a whim. XD

ONE LAST LINGERING NOTE: Everybody come and play, throw every last care away! Let's go to the mall -- giggle -- today!

Can't you tell I'm a 'How I Met Your Mother' fan? ;]

Reviews are appreciated.