Ok, I don't know if there are any Walking Dead fans out there, but I was so heartbroken last night because my favorite character got his head cut off (similarly to my fav. Twilight character lol). He was a sweet old doctor (how ironic). I couldn't even write I was so sad. Again, not sure if anyone watches the show but WOW! Share your misery with me if you do lol. I expressed my anger via tumblr also!
Chapter 52
Esme laid against Carlisle and played with the cross necklace that clung to his bare chest.
"Faith," he said quietly.
She held the cross in her hand for another moment before resting her hand back on his chest. "Were you mad that Alice and I went to see Helen and Micah without telling you?"
"No," he said back just after she finished her sentence.
Esme sighed and snuggled tighter against him, letting one leg drape in between his.
Carlisle pulled the blankets around them tighter and left little touches all over Esme's upper body. There was no sensation quite like the feeling of her skin against his. In the darkness he could focus more particularly on the sense of touch, rather than have all of his senses at once compete to smother him with thoughts of which part of her he loved the most. His eyes were never sorry for staring at her beauty, nor his ears for letting her voice lead him through every walk of life. Her scent hit him every day with such an intoxicating aroma that he felt none of the others could typically compete. It was her touch, however, that could quite literally make him do anything. Esme captured him in such a way that was incomparable to anything else; the lust for blood included.
A sigh left his mouth, one which he didn't realize he'd let out until the tail of the breath.
"It's snowing again," Esme told him, only turning her head partway to glance out the window.
Carlisle's eyes traveled to where hers lead him and he smiled. The glow of the already fallen snow accompanied by the moon made it seem like there was a giant nightlight on just outside their window. It allowed them to see out into the world perfectly, illuminating the giant body of water that had failed to freeze just behind the hotel.
"Almost a hundred years," he said with a snicker.
"And we finally got that modern day wedding reception," Esme said with a little laugh, referring to their previous visit.
He laughed and looked at her. Esme's eyes were, for the moment, still on the outside world. Carlisle smiled to himself and decided to stop holding on to the bad feelings. It was almost as if he wanted to, and he quietly scolded himself for that. His hand drifted to her face, and as his fingers just lightly touched her cheek, Esme spun to face him, feeling his lips against hers before she could even get a glimpse of his face.
Her heart would have been beating rapidly if it was still able to beat in her chest. Esme sighed several times in the short breaks in their drawn-out kiss before Carlisle eventually pulled back and smiled at her.
Esme smiled back, glad to see the true smile on her husband's face for the first time in weeks. He'd been happy at times, especially during Charlie's visit as Santa, though there was a part of him, she could tell, that still lingered in a pain only she could see. At that moment, however, that expression was gone.
Carlisle looked down at the only thing his wife still had on; her necklace. "I think it's time we start living up to our gifts, don't you think?"
She smiled, "Yes."
He smiled back and kissed her again, feeling how much lighter she now felt in his hands. Carlisle quickly escalated their level of passion, sending Esme deep into the moment until his phone began to buzz from the dresser across the room just a few minutes later.
When the noise finally stopped, Esme's phone went off next, setting off her holiday-themed ringtone.
"Carlisle," she said, "Our phones."
He stared down at her, taking an extra second for her words to register before looking over his shoulder toward the dresser. He leaned back to give her the room to get out of the bed then listened intently as she answered just before the phone was forwarded to voicemail.
"Alice! What is it?" she asked. Esme's eyes moved rapidly back and forth. Carlisle motioned for her to come closer. She scooted back beside him and the two of them listened.
Before Carlisle could catch up to what she was saying, another overly familiar scent caught his attention. His eyes scanned the darkness then focused on the falling snow. Alice's words connected with his eardrums as he was processing the anticipation of what was to come.
"Where is h-" Esme started, then stopped mid-sentence when she caught the same scent that Carlisle had. It was a scent that she hadn't known until the day Renesme's life was threatened years ago on the field near their home. It was a scent she was completely conflicted by and equally horrified when it entered her nostrils. She wished every time she sensed it that she would never come in contact with it again.
"Esme..." Alice's voice came over the phone, "He's there isn't he?"
Carlisle and Esme locked eyes and there were three consecutive knocks on the door. They weren't overly loud, and more or less spaced with an exact second in between in each of them. The light bangs were almost cordial and patient, though despite the light nature seemed to echo off the walls that only moments ago provided a type of sanctuary for the two of them.
"Alice..." Esme said lightly into the phone. She stared down and saw that her daughter had hung up. She looked back at Carlisle who was pondering about what to do.
"Put your clothes on," he whispered, then kissed her forehead and got out of bed.
There was another, louder knock on the door that rang with more impatience than the first three.
Esme quickly gathered her clothes and scooted into the bathroom. Carlisle got out of bed and grabbed what must have been a complimentary robe that came with the suite. It hung on the back of the bathroom door and he snatched it quickly before his wife shut the door.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, then opened the door.
"Hello Carlisle," a familiar voice said in a pleasant tone, "Would I be interrupting if I allowed myself in?"
He looked at the man in the eye; his old friend turned nemesis, turned villain who tried to harm his family, turned savior of his son. He didn't know if he hated him or not but his presence drew back the strong feelings he had just recently escaped from.
Carlisle felt as if he would regret his next statement, though virtually had no other choice. "Please come in Aro."
