Esme sat on the forest floor, feeling perfectly exhausted. The scent of fresh blood still lingered in the air and made her relive her first hunting experience with vivid daydreams. The feeling the blood gave her still lingered internally, and she couldn't push the feeling from her mind.

Blood. Blood. Blood.

All Esme could see, think or feel was the deep red color that poured like fountains of wine from the large buck she had just taken down.

I've never known a feeling like this.

The taste of blood was almost too much. She felt like she could get lost forever sitting there in the leaves and sticks and mud. It wasn't until she heard his voice that the red began to drain from her senses.

"Esme." His voice sounded echoey and far away at first, and then her mind became clear. She snapped back to reality.

Carlisle. Oh my gosh he saw what just happened. This isn't lady like. This isn't lady like at all.

She glanced down at her blood stained clothing and was horrified, though that instinctual lust for blood still clung to her firmly.

It's so good. There's nothing like it.

Carlisle stood smiling, standing above her. "I told you you'd get it."

He told me what? He approves of this? He's smiling...

Esme took in his appearance. He still looked perfect as always without a hair out of place, and certainly not covered in blood like a maniac. She was mortified, but knew there was nothing she could do to cover up what she looked like.

Carlisle held out his hand, and she wanted to ask him to turn away for she knew she looked like a creature from somebody's nightmare. The red eyes were bad enough, but she had completely ruined her attire.

These are my only clothes. Her thoughts were beginning to come back more rationally. I'm covered in blood, sitting on the ground in front of Dr. Cullen. My hair is a mess... oh, gosh, that's the last of my worries right now.

Esme took his hand and lifted herself from the ground with ease. She felt his touch radiated through her arm and throughout the rest of her body. His easygoing smile added to the feeling, and she began to wonder how he could even look at her with a strait face.

"How was it?" he asked.

"How was it?" she repeated the question and looked down at herself.

Carlisle was a little taken off-guard by the less-than-thrilled tone of her voice. "I mean..." he shrugged.

Esme could see he was genuinely asking, and then pointed out that this was probably very normal to him. "Does... this happen to you?" she looked down at her clothes and wiped blood from her mouth.

He smirked, "Whenever I hunt, yes. I try to wear clothes that I'm not particularly fond of."

Esme looked at the innocent features of face, particularly his eyes. She had yet to let go of his hand that touched hers with more care and gentleness than anyone ever had. He was utterly polite and well-mannered, even-tempered... Esme could not picture the man before her doing something as violent as she just did.

"Oh, but he does." A familiar voice came in from behind her.

Edward rejoined them, smiling and oozing with the blood of a creature that Esme could tell right away was not a deer. It was something different, and she felt herself begin to salivate with venom again.

Carlisle looked at Edward, tempted to ask what he had read in Esme's mind, but he did not feel right invading her privacy.

Edward's outward appearance eased her mind a bit. She didn't feel like the only blood crazed monster running around the woods. There was still a part of her, however, that was heavily self-conscious as to what Carlisle thought.

There is nothing attractive about this look.

Edward shifted his eyes to meet Esme's for a moment, wanting to talk her out of mindset she was currently in. He acknowledged that one day, probably sooner than later, she would see that her thoughts were silly in regards to aftermath of hunting.

Esme breathed in heavily though she acknowledged fully for the first time that she didn't have to. She sat there for a moment and tested the theory, counting down from thirty. After ten seconds of silence she saw Carlisle and Edward exchange a glance, but she didn't stop until she reached zero.

"I'm not breathing," she said.

"You don't have to," Carlisle explained, "You can, and when you get around humans you should just to make it appear as though you're human too." He shook his head, "I don't want to skip ahead that far yet."

"How long will it take until I can be with humans like you?" Esme glanced down at her blood-soaked attire and quickly realized that it wouldn't be any time soon. The smell was still triggering the venom in her fangs.

"You know the feeling you experienced when you mauled that deer?" Edward asked her.

She turned to look at him, but didn't nod.

"Multiply that by..." he shrugged, "A thousand. That's how tempting human blood is."

"You'll harness your control," Carlisle added with a reassuring nod. "We were both in the stage you're at now. Neither Edward or I could be near humans for awhile."

Esme nodded, feeling good about two things regarding his statement. One, she felt relieved that the two of them knew exactly what she was going through. Two, she would have to stay locked away in the house in the woods with Carlisle for as long as it took to overcome the bloodlust.

That's not so bad.

Edward looked in her direction, continuing to get a kick out of Esme's immediate and ongoing attraction to his father-figure.

"Ten years is a long time," he acknowledged, smiling at her.

Carlisle hadn't noticed his expression and assumed he was referring to taming the lust for human blood. "Oh, it won't be ten years, Edward."

"No," Edward agreed, still smiling, "I don't suspect so, either."

Carlisle looked at him, and then returned his attention to Esme. "Why don't we take you back to get cleaned up." His eyes drifted back to Edward, "Maybe you could go into town and buy some clothes."

"Me... buy women's clothes?"

He smiled and reached in his pocket, removing some bills and then handed them to Edward.

"Like this?" he added in a joking manner, referring to his bloody garments.

Esme saw the lingering smirk on Carlisle's face as he shook his head.

"Get washed up quickly and go," Carlisle told him.

Edward smiled, noting that his father was thinking how logical it would be for him to go to the store while Edward and Esme got cleaned up. It was the smallest hint of jealousy and anxiety that pushed him to send Edward instead.

"How many outfits should I get?"

Carlisle shrugged, "Seven I suppose. One for each day of the week." He looked to Esme, "Is that alright for now?"

Is that alright? she wondered. That's too much.

"That's, uh," Esme swallowed hard and felt the combination of burning and sensation from the blood. Her eyes closed for a moment and then she reopened them, "That's too much."

"Hardly," he said, "I'd offer you some of our clothes, but I don't think you're partial to neckties and jackets."

She smiled and shrugged before he waved her on again. "Come on. Let's get you cleaned up so I can answer any questions you may have."