Stephenie Meyer owns any Twilight characters and Twilight plot lines that may appear in this story. The remainder is my original work. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization. Don't steal, it isn't polite.
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Chapter Eight
~Hands, speak for me.
-William Shakespeare
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BPOV
Someone such as myself had no right to complain. My parents loved me and respected me as a person. I was well-fed and well-clothed, brought up with morals and nobility. I was intelligent, healthy and strong…but sitting across from him, bearing the secrets that only we shared…that was a burden I didn't realize would weigh so heavily upon me.
But with that weight resting on my shoulders came a joy so immense I didn't know how to contain it within my one-hundred and twenty-two pounds. I wore it in my eyes as they stealthily gazed in his direction, the stretch of my lips as they curved into a smile, the shake of my fingers as they twisted around one another…
And in the frantic beating of my heart. Proudly, I wore it there.
My birthday party came winding to an end quickly. One moment Carlisle and I were standing alone in the basement, on the brink of a powerful embrace, the next we're eating cake amongst my parents, his daughters, and an awkward Billy and Jake. I couldn't blame them for feeling out of place. It was almost eerie how beautifully my family got along with Carlisle's. As we joked and laughed around the dining room table, I felt as though I were surrounded by my own friends rather than the people who raised me and theirs.
Shortly after our cake was finished, the mismatched group of acquaintances slowly divided. My mother and I sat with the girls at the kitchen table; she colored pictures with them while I braided their hair. My father, Billy, and Carlisle resorted to the garage so they could examine the engine of my pick-up, Charlie feeling like some sort of hero for getting the decrepit vehicle to run.
And Jake sat in the living room, his face glued to ESPN. Billy asked him if he wanted to come out and take a look at the truck with them, but when he denied Jacob's final attempt at obtaining a beer, Jake petulantly denied his father.
Soon after the swooning over my restored truck was complete, Billy and Jacob went home. Once they took their leave, everything seemed to fall into place. What I thought would be an awkward and stressful day had turned into one of complete serenity. Charlie had retired to his recliner, complaining of an upset stomach. My mother chastised him as she stood from the table to begin cleaning up the remnants of my party, grumbling that she told him not to have that last piece of cake.
My heart beat frantically as Carlisle entered the room, sitting across the table from me and next to a pouting Rosalie, who was seated beside her sister. He ran his hand over the top of her head, while tap-taptaptap-tapping his steady rhythm on the tabletop with the other. His eyes melted into mine like butter to a frying pan, and I could barely contain my whimper as we visually feasted on one another. His lips twisted slightly into a secret smile, the one that belonged to me alone. This man devastated me with his subtle movements that spoke volumes to me. It hurt so good that I suddenly wondered what we would have to do to ease this tension, this steady and eager ache that burned inside me when we were together like this.
All I wanted to do was ponder the answers to that question, but sitting amongst his daughters and my parents certainly wasn't the time. "What's wrong, honey?" he asked Rose softly, tearing his eyes away from mine before turning his full attention to his daughter.
"I don't want to go home," she whined, throwing down her crayon and crossing her arms over her chest. "I like being with Bella all the time." Tears filled her eyes as she outstretched her hands, taking one of mine and one of her father's as she battled with her emotions.
Alice quietly watched the entire interaction, her lips pressed into a straight line as her eyes bounced from each one of us. Finally, she laid her head in her arms and began silently crying. "I wanna stay too," she muttered sadly.
My eyes burned with tears. Alice was so empathetic toward others. If her sister was upset, or anyone she cared about for that matter, she would experience just as much sorrow. And Rosalie, the strong-willed little girl who rarely showed weakness, was crying because she didn't want to leave my side?
There was one true fact that no one could dare even attempt to deny. I wasn't just put on this earth for Carlisle Cullen. I existed for his daughters as well.
I took Rosalie's hand with my left and hugged Alice with my other arm. Carlisle mirrored my actions and, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, the girls threw their arms around one another. And there we were…all of us connected, all of us feeling the bond we were so quickly solidifying with each moment spent together.
"You don't have to leave, my sweet girls," I soothed them, resting my cheek on top of Alice's head. "Stay for now, and when you do have to leave tonight, I promise you can always come back. We'll always be together."
"Always?" Rosalie whispered.
I looked up to meet his eyes, dark and fiery with an intense emotion that seemed to feed my soul and wrap around my entire body simultaneously. "Always," he promised.
And then I realized we were all sitting around this small table, exposing ourselves for what we really were: Each other's.
I regretfully broke our trance, cheerfully uttering words of how beautiful their pictures were, and challenging them to draw the ocean we were talking about earlier in the basement.
I was positively shaking.
I quickly looked up to see my mother watching the interaction with a peculiar gleam in her eye, which I readily ignored. She was such a perceptive woman when she wanted to be; for that reason I had been struggling all day long not to outwardly pine after Carlisle like the teenage girl inside me had desired.
I wondered how long she had been standing there.
Whatever she had seen, she floated past it like a saint…and my best friend. "Carlisle, you and the girls must stay for dinner. We'll make homemade pizza. What do you say girls, would you like to help?"
Their moods were instantly lifted as they replied with a cheerful, "yes, big cook, little cooks!"
Rosalie and Alice clamored from their chairs, rushing to my mother's side to begin their game. "What's that?" my mother questioned.
Carlisle rubbed the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. "They like to help me in the kitchen, only we've sort of made a game out of it. We pretend we're doing a cooking show…Big Cook, Little Cooks."
My mother smiled warmly at him. "That's adorable, Carlisle. Okay!" She clapped her hands, turning her attention to the girls. "Let's get started. I bet Uncle Charlie won't feel so sick once it starts smelling like pizza in here!"
The girls giggled their agreements as Renee pulled two aprons out of the pantry, rolling them until they were short enough for the girls. "Daddy! Bella! Will you help too?"
We both smiled widely as our eyes met. "How can you say no to that?" I asked him.
"I couldn't possibly," he murmured gently.
We stood from the table and walked toward the kitchen island, my mother busily setting out all the ingredients we needed. Alice and Rose stood ahead of me as my mother began handing out specific instructions. I watched as she showed them how to knead, all three of them lost in the mesmerizing twists and pulls of the dough.
But all I felt was his chest against my back, and the slow movement of his fingers as they slid up and down my side. My eyes fluttered shut, my equilibrium giving way to the feeling of his fingers on my body. He steadied me without bringing attention to himself, his hands on my hips and his warm breath falling against the top of my head.
My mind was a blur but I had the good sense to stay aware of my surroundings. However, in that blissful moment, no one could see what we were.
Slowly, ever-so-slowly, his thumb slid beneath the fabric of my sweater, drawing careful and gentle patterns along the curve of my abdomen. My body was numb; I felt as if I were floating as he caressed me with pure devotion.
One finger sliding across my hip. That was all it took for me to completely lose myself to the gorgeous man standing behind me.
And all I wanted was for him to give me more.
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After the sun had set and our delicious dinner had been consumed, Carlisle began speaking his obligatory words.
"We should get going."
"It's getting late."
"We've taken up enough of your day."
But he didn't mean them. Not a single word. He no more wanted to leave than I wanted to say goodbye. My parents didn't want him gone either, because my God, he fit in with us perfectly. Only, Charlie and Renee couldn't possibly understand why the fit was so destined.
But we knew.
In the end, Carlisle had conceded to my parents' and his daughters' coercion to stay longer. More time spent inhabiting the same space; such a small victory for each and every one of us.
I took my girls and curled up with them in the over-sized lounge chair, flipping through the channels until the animated movie Up came on.
"This movie makes me sad," Alice yawned.
Rosalie giggled. "I love Kevin, it's not sad, Ali-cat."
I was sobbing quiet tears a half an hour in. How a children's movie could evoke so much raw emotion out of a person, I'd never know.
This movie may have been made for little children, but the message stuck with me rather significantly. Don't waste time, and love like you'll never have another chance.
By the ending the girls were fast asleep in my arms and my father was laughing at me for "being such a sap."
But once my reddened eyes met Carlisle's sincere blue, my heart threatened to stop beating completely. My father retreated to find my mother in the kitchen and we were left with one single moment of reprieve. I watched him with shaking limbs as he scooped Alice out of my arms, leaning down until his mouth was wet against my ear. "I doubt I'd admit it to anyone but you, sweetheart, but this movie made me tear up as well."
He pulled back and smiled shyly at me as our eyes connected, mere inches apart. "It was because I envied him, Bella. Not because he lost the love of his life, but because he was fortunate enough to have had her in the first place."
He stood back up with Alice in his arms. I shifted Rosalie into mine and watched him, wiping my cheeks with my sleeve. I opened and closed my eyes lazily before licking my bottom lip. "Do you want to know why I was crying?" I whispered.
"Tell me," he murmured.
"Because I know now…what it's like to have found mine." I felt the tears building in my eyes and the emotion in my heart was too heavy to be contained. Ever since I met the glorious man standing before me, everything I felt inside was magnified by a thousand. "And I'm not allowed to have you."
"Bella," he breathed, visibly flinching at the painful reality I had voiced. He boldly stepped forward, needing the closeness we couldn't surrender to and the words I weren't allowed to speak.
My father approached and we hastily and regretfully disembarked from our all-consuming command over one another. We laid the girls down onto the couch, tucking them in tightly with the blankets that were hanging on the back of it. We breathed in and out and silently shook through our desperation for one another until it inevitably subsided - for the time being.
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Hours later, we were laughing and sitting around the dining room table with my parents once more, playing a game of Rummy like my parents had done for years. But here, in the quiet hours of the early morning, I felt everything I ever knew starting to shift.
When a chapter in your life closes, the following one almost always feels brand new. This was no different. I was eighteen and by the wistful looks my parents kept flashing me, they realized that I was no longer a little girl. I hadn't really been one for ages. I talked to them like they were my equals and they accepted that.
But would they ever accept us?
"Rummy!" my mother squealed, calling my father out on missing a card that very easily could have won him the game. I laughed. I smiled. But all I could feel was the tip of his finger, ghosting along my open palm beneath the table.
Another simple touch.
Another piece of flesh so small in comparison to my body that yearned to be caressed. Slowly he stroked my hand, and with that small amount of friction, I was falling apart at the seams.
The path he was drawing up and down my palm was causing a tingling sensation to shoot up my arm. It made my stomach clench and my skin become slick with perspiration. It made me burn with a need so intense, I could barely stop myself from telling him so.
But as Carlisle Cullen drove me to the brink of insanity with just the tip of his finger, he sat leisurely with a wry smile on his face, seeming to be fazed by nothing but the cards in his hand.
The clenching of his jaw when I shifted in my seat and stretched dramatically was the only indicator that I was slowly unraveling him. That and his lazy grin as he sipped from his can of beer. I knew his inhibitions were lowered, making me wish for an empty house and his whispered promises.
My father returned to the table with three beers in hand, setting one in front of Carlisle, himself, and finally me. I looked at him quizzically. "What?" he chuckled. "You're my kid, Bella, but you haven't been a kid for as long as I can remember. There's no reason why you can't have a beer with your old man."
I looked at my mother who was swirling wine in the goblet she was holding. "Or you could have some wine, honey? I don't like beer myself."
"Um, yeah wine would be better. Sorry, Dad," I smiled. I loved my mother's wine of choice. On particular days when I felt stuck in a rut or trapped inside a world I never belonged in, I'd take a glass up to my room and write, listen to music to calm myself or just relax and get lost in my mind as I dreamed of another life.
I walked to the kitchen to put away the can of beer in exchange for a sweet glass of ruby red nectar. When I returned, my parents were in some sort of playful, heated debate.
"I'm telling you, woman, it still fits!" Charlie insisted, holding my mother's hand against his chest as she began to dispute him.
"Charlie Swan, if you still fit into that old t-shirt you used to wear, I'll - "
"You'll what?" my father questioned suggestively.
I twisted my nose, averting myself from their conversation. I was much more interested in losing myself to another. By the way our hungry eyes seemed to meld together at the same time, he clearly felt the same.
I searched for his hand beneath the table, losing my breath as I came into contact with his warm skin. I took a long sip of my wine and glanced over at my parents who were still bantering playfully, before connecting with him once more. Our palms pressed together, our fingers lining up and sliding along one another until they slowly intertwined beneath the table.
I took a deep breath and watched him carefully, smiling as he squeezed my hand. "I've been waiting," I murmured.
His thumb stroked my knuckles back and forth, slow and smooth as he riskily and quite openly gazed into my eyes. "I may never let go."
"You're not going to find it!"
My mother stood from her chair and pulled my father up. He was laughing so heartily that his face was red from the exertion. She turned to us before dragging my father with her. "Sorry, you two, I just need a moment to prove my husband wrong. You know the shirt I'm talking about, Carlisle. The one he used to wear nearly every day…something about 'If the Pole Ain't Bendin', You're just Pretendin'."
Carlisle chuckled softly, shaking his head and squeezing my hand tighter as he rested them on his thigh. "There's no way that shirt is still in one piece."
Charlie scoffed loudly. "It's up in the attic, I guran-goddamn-tee you! And when I prove all of you wrong and wear that bad boy down here, you'll all be eating crow!"
"Eating crow," I murmured, shaking my head. I watched my parents giggle like teenagers as they ran up the stairs and out of our sight, feeling emboldened and warm and enamored over the fact that we were finally left alone.
With eyes darkened to midnight blue, he lifted our hands from beneath the table and held them between us, his gaze falling onto our linked fingers. Slowly, he raised my hand until it was pressed to his lips, his eyes darting up to mine and searching sincerely. I lost my breath as his soft mouth slid against my skin, my body leaning forward on its own accord.
"Carlisle…" I whispered breathlessly.
He hummed against my skin before placing one last kiss on my hand. "My beautiful Bella."
We stared at each other for several long moments, knowing this was our chance to put it into words and yet…all we could do was smile at one another. I sighed contentedly and brought our entwined fingers to rest against my cheek. "Are you okay?" I whispered.
He chuckled softly, leaning forward until our faces were mere inches apart. "You're always so concerned." He ran his other hand along my cheek before letting it fall to the table. "I'm perfect…I'm so incredibly perfect."
I nodded my agreement, lifting my hand to trace his brow and along his stubbled jaw. "We've barely spoken today and yet I feel like we've never stopped communicating with one another."
Carlisle closed his eyes and leaned forward, eliminating the distance between us as his forehead rested gently against mine. "It's so hard not to touch you, Bella…"
Silently I took his other hand as we breathed in each other's air. "You can touch me…I'm yours to touch."
He exhaled shakily, tightening his fingers around my own. "I can't…we can't yet."
"What are we waiting for? Just tell me what's stopping us, because out of the long list of reasons I can think of, none of them matter right now. It's just us, Carlisle, tell me…"
I was begging him and he was breathless, fighting with his own restraint not to give into what we both needed. A part of me felt guilty for torturing him with his own morality, but every bone in my body was screaming for his touch.
"They'll be back soon," he mumbled, his lips moving so close to mine that I could almost taste them. "You know it won't be long, Bella. You know as well as I do that time holds no restraint over what we've found in each other. If hell is my price to pay for needing you like this, then I'll gladly take it. One thousand times over, I'll take it."
I squeezed my eyes tightly together, pushing my forehead against his forcefully as my breathing became heavy and jagged. I could focus on nothing but our hold on one another, his breath, his scent, his gorgeous fucking words that assured me he'd never leave. "Kiss me," I whimpered, carefully letting my tongue slide along my bottom lip. "Please, just kiss me, show me with your mouth on mine."
"Bella," he groaned. I was torturing him, I knew it. And yet it was my own personal torment being so close to him and not knowing what it felt like to have his soft lips moving with my own.
"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I just…you make me lose my mind, Carlisle."
He lifted his forehead from mine and gazed at me with unadulterated need. "Talk to me tonight. I know we've had all day but I need more from you. Please, tonight?"
I nodded and pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, furrowing my brow with overwhelming emotion. His face was crumpled as well, and it was a miracle we were still alive and breathing when the power we had over one another easily had the strength to destroy us both.
And everyone around us.
"It's all going to crumble eventually," I whispered, tentatively lifting my hand and running my thumb along his bottom lip.
"Yes," he nodded, swallowing thickly. "But we never will. In the end I'll have you, and we'll have the girls, and there won't be a fucking thing that can take that from us, Isabella."
"Always?" I whispered shakily, a tear falling down my cheek as he kissed the thumb I had pressed against his lip.
"Forever, sweetheart."
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*Swoon* I sure do love me some Carlisle. Anyhow, sorry for the delay with this chapter. I'm not expecting it to be so long between updates next time, so that's a plus.
A big thank you to my beta Isabel for being her amazing, miraculous self. I can't function without her, and I hope she never forgets it! Also major boobie-gropes to mah twin, Lazykate, for pre-reading and squeeing over Carlisle because, if you know us at all, you're aware that we love all things Pfach/Carlisle. NOM NOM. Love you, woman!
In the meantime you can find me on twitter as Brits23. Reviews would sure be appreciated. I read every single one, and they mean so much to me. :)
Until next time!
