November 21st, year 1917, 2147 hours. Rickman's worth, London.
A blonde figure in a waistcoat carrying a bag smaller than a luggage, but larger than a schoolgirl's bag, tightly in his hands trudged silently through the slush covered street. His lush hair swayed in the harsh winds of the London winter over his peculiar golden eyes as the brows framing them were deeply knit in thought.
He ran away from his home, never to look back and now, he was lonely. His heart craved for warmth and company and all he wanted now was love.
But, no. He could never or rather, would never in good conscience damn anyone to this life. Scratch that, existence.
The clocks chimed ten and he paused to make sure no one was looking at him before he tightened his grip on the bag and streaked off towards the airport. He needed to catch his flight to Chicago.
.:xoxo:.
December 6th, 1917, 1423 hours. General Hospital, Chicago.
Carlisle stepped into the crammed ward having come back from his "lunch break" and his bright topaz eyes instantly fell on a beautiful young man whose mother had just passed away before he left.
He was never really thirsty. He just wanted time to think about it. The boy's mother had made her dying wish crystal clear. He had to save her son no matter what.
On the other hand, could he really damn this young adolescent to a life…existence like his own?
Then he remembered those lonely hours in the past century or so. And he was sick of it. He wanted company now more than ever and there would be no harm done as the boy was going to die anyway…everybody knew that.
Plus, with all his relatives dead and all the other nurses and doctors busy with the other patients suffering from the dreaded Spanish influenza, nobody would notice his absence.
The doctor bit his lower lip and steeled his heart for what he was about to do as he approached the dying teen.
.:xoxo:.
December 9th, 1917. 1846 hours. Some apartment in the outskirts.
Edward gradually felt the stinging burn ease in his veins and he slowly opened his eyes to notice all his senses sharpened.
His gaze soon fell on his reflection in a window and he swallowed a gasp. He was beautiful, so to speak, with perfect complexion and all but it was not that that caused his shock. It was more the gleaming red eyes that had replaced his original emerald ones and was now staying back at him.
His thoughts came to an abrupt stop when he sensed a presence at the doorway.
Edward turned and noted the blond figure standing at the doorway whom he vaguely remembered as his doctor.
Bright crimson eyes caught dull amber ones and sparks flew as a thought that was not his own entered his head.
Edward found the thought flattering and considered the chances of him going gay to return the feelings. Considering all the other factors with his present feelings, the chance was extremely high.
.:xoxo:.
December 19th, 1917. 0354 hours. Random grassy hill in Utah.
The figures laid on the grass, counting the fading stars as (the rest of) humanity slept.
"Hey…Edward?"
"Hm?"
"…Christmas is coming…"
"Yeah."
"So…I'm just saying…if you could have anything in the world…what would it be?
"…A mother. …My last one died."
.:xoxo:.
December 25th, 1917. 2015 hours. Suite 3178, The Bellagio, Las Vegas.
Edward was sitting on the couch and watching some trivial game show on the television while waiting for Carlisle to return from the grocery store—or so he claimed. But when Edward tried to pry, the doctor would either recite the alphabets backwards of fill his brain with complicated medical terms after he discovered the other's talent. He sighed, impatient, before the soft click of the door signaled his lover's return.
Edward straightened up and sucked in an unnecessary breath. He decided that today would be the day that he would confess his feelings to Carlisle. Since the day they had met, Edward knew that Carlisle was lonely and craved deeply for the company of a lover. Even if he never said it aloud, Edward heard it as clear as a bell in his head.
If his heart was still alive, it would certainly have skipped a beat when Edward saw the blonde man peek through the slightly opened door and smiled at him.
Edward stood up to greet him and opened his mouth to say something but the words died on his lips when the doctor stepped into the room.
There was a happy thought he could not ignore.
Edward was glad for him, but exactly what he was glad for, Edward was not sure.
Until then, he had not realized that the door was not closed as Carlisle pushed it further open to reveal a beautiful woman around her early thirties. Her thoughts flashed between nursery rhymes and something that caused him a pang.
.:xoxo:.
It all happened too fast.
The moment Carlisle knelt down on one knee and proposed to her, Edward felt his world collapse.
His mouth was agape as the scene slowly sunk in when another terrible blow was dealt on his still heart. Those thoughts…her thoughts…those gleeful thoughts of hers that caused his already dead heart to break, rip apart, shredded into a billion pieces and later thrown in the furnace to be burnt into eternity.
But that was not the worst.
Carlisle had turned to grin at him as she pulled him into a hug, clearly unaware of what was happening to him. That oblivious smile on his face stung like someone pouring the most corrosive acid ever imagined on his bare, vulnerable heart.
Edward could not blame him. Carlisle was happy and Edward loved him, wanted him to be happy…even if it was at the expense of himself. After all, it was he that said he wanted a mother in the first place.
But did he really want a mother now that he loved his father so?
.:xoxo:.
Home used to be somewhere where all charades would cease to exist. But that was no more. For love made great self-sacrificial nobles of us all.
Even if both partied were not truly happy.
.:xoxo:.
A/N: Oh dear. It is so short… ): I'm sorry if it sucked and all but this is my first Twilight fiction. I was listening to "Want" by Adam Lambert and I don't know why but I just happened to think of this. So…yeah. I promise I'll reply to all my reviews and please, do not flame): I DO NOT OWN ANY TWILIGHT CHARACTERS. ….god knows what would happened if I owned Carlisle.