Disclaimer: All characters belong to Stephanie Myer.
Hope you enjoy.
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July, 1921 - Atlanta Georgia
After three weeks of venturing into the town at night with either Edward or Carlisle accompanying her, Esme felt confident enough to go during the day, when the weather was cloudy enough to conceal them. She knew that both of them were slightly concerned that she felt pressured into it, but she reassured them both countless times that she felt ready, that she wasn't doing it simply to please them, so they had agreed.
It had been a week, and every other day, she went into the town, and with each trip, the burning in her throat was becoming slightly more bearable. She never breathed when she went, only making sure to make it look like she was, and her body was slightly tense, but that was hidden under her thick coat.
The village was small, and one that had been stuck in time for the last few decades. The shops were run down, but Esme quite enjoyed the character that they held. It wasn't a densely populated town, but everyone knew Carlisle from the hospital, and they always seemed very eager to watch Esme as she walked down the street with her arm linked through his. As hard as she tried, it was impossible to block out the shameless whispering.
Carlisle had been relieved to see that it was a relatively quiet morning, as he hovered by the car with Esme. As he watched her face for signs of discomfort, he couldn't help but look at her eyes.
She was biting her lower lip.
Picking up on her unease instantly, Carlisle wrapped an arm around her waist. "I'm right here, Esme." He reminded her.
Comforted by his presence, she nodded.
"If it helps, stop breathing." Carlisle instructed as they started to walk towards the village. He kept his head bent towards her so he could whisper in her ear, and one of her hands was clenching his as it remained at her hip. "Focus on me, or our surroundings, and try to block out the smell."
People stared at them openly as they went past, admiring their beauty as they walked soundlessly over the snow. Esme instantly became uncomfortable under the watchful eyes, but, when she glanced up at Carlisle, she saw that he completely obvious to it. He'd had decades of experience in being stared at - and Esme pushed away the brief surge of jealous at the thought of women practically drooling over him.
She focused on him for a moment, as she tried to ignore the fire in her throat. His blonde hair was ruffled slightly by the wind in an adorable mess, and his skin was flawlessly white. His golden eyes were relaxed, and it gave her the courage to ease the tension from her body and simply enjoy being able to walk amongst humans again.
"Carlisle!" An excited squeal came from behind them, causing them to pause. Moments later, a pretty blonde appeared, pushing her way over the snow to them. "It's so good to see you!"
Esme instantly stiffened, and she felt Carlisle's hand squeeze the side of her waist in the reassuring manner it always did. Don't breathe, she told herself. Just relax. Carlisle's here.
Carlisle briefly looked as if he would rather be anywhere else in that moment, but that look was gone once he cleared his throat. "Evelynn, it's a pleasure." He said, but his hold on Esme increased ever so slightly.
Esme's gaze flickered from the bubbly human back to Carlisle, wondering how the two of them had met. Was she an old friend of his?
Whoever she may be, Evelyn was standing dangerously close, and it took everything Esme had to not lunge at her and drain her of the rich blood that she could practically hear filling through her veins. Evelyn's heartbeat was strong and clear, standing out to Esme over the whispering of the surrounding humans.
Evelyn beamed widely, turning to Esme. "You must be Esme!" She dipped her head, offering a warm smile. "Esme Cullen, am I correct?"
While Esme's eyes flashed wide, Carlisle choked. He covered it up by laughing, somewhat awkwardly.
"Esme Platt," Carlisle corrected, as he knew Esme would struggle to speak.
"Oh," Evelyn's own eyes grew bigger at her mistake, as she glanced in confusion at Carlisle. "I'm sorry, Miss Platt, my mistake."
Unable to open her mouth, Esme simply gave the woman a forced smile and dipped her head, dismissing the error.
"I must say, you have the most unusually beautiful eyes, Miss Platt." Evelyn added, as if wanting to make amends.
The slight red band around the irises would have certainly been enough to terrify the human, but right now, Esme's eyes had turned a dark shade - almost pitch black. In the low light created by the cloudy sky, they could pass as very dark brown.
"Well, I better get back to work." Evelyn excused herself, with a friendly smile at Carlisle. "I'll see you around, I'm sure." Quickly, she turned on her heels and hurried away without another word.
Esme looked up at Carlisle, with a look of complete puzzlement.
Carlisle simply shrugged at her. "A simple mistake," He said, but he was not quite convincing.
They continued through the village, walking a leisurely slow human pace so Esme could take in her surroundings. There was so much culture around her, and she wanted to enjoy it, even though it was causing her such discomfort. Of course, Carlisle had insisted that they hunted before venturing into the village, but it had only cured her thirst briefly.
Before they reached the end, something sharp pierced Esme's nostrils, causing them to flare. She froze.
Blood.
"Esme," Carlisle's arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders, pressing her to him. "Stop breathing. Now."
Esme obeyed his sharp command, but she could easily trace exactly where the blood was coming from. Further up the street by only a few yards, a young boy was crying as he held up his bleeding finger.
His mother was currently fussing over him, scolding him for playing with broken glass near the bin. The young boy had pretty brown curls, his cheeks were red with cold, and his brown eyes were filled with tears which spilled down his face. He whimpered as his mother examined his finger.
"Mummy, it hurts!" He cried out.
"Stop moving, then!" His mother told him, turning his little finger slightly to examine the damage. "You've got a shard stuck in your finger. I told you not to touch the broken bottles, but I turn my back for one second and you've done exactly what I said not to do!"
He's a child, Esme reminded herself in disgust, horrified as her thirst only increased. The boy looked around four years old, and his cute freckles and scared expression called out to her, sparking her own motherly instincts. She wished she could go over and comfort the boy, and kiss his poorly finger better. I can't, though. I'm a danger to him. A monster…
Carlisle was clearly quite upset by the boy's tears as well. "Esme, we should go back to the car-"
Stubbornly, Esme shook her head, knowing that he cared for her above all else, but not wanting to allow it on this circumstance. "Help him." She managed to spit out, teeth digging into her bottom lip. "Go. Please."
Carlisle was torn; his instincts wanted to help the boy, but he didn't know if he could risk leaving Esme by herself.
Esme gave him a determined nod. Go, her eyes willed him.
Carlisle squeezed her hip. "If it gets too much….don't flee." They couldn't risk her disappearing when her thirst was this strong, she understood that. "I'll be right back." He vowed, before rushing over to the mother and her child.
"Good afternoon, my name is Dr Carlisle Cullen." He quickly introduced himself. Kneeling down beside the boy, he examined the bleeding wound. His tone had been so calming and trusting that the mother had no objection to him being there. "I can remove the shard; doing it wrong would only increase the bleeding. Also, it might snap if done too roughly."
"It hurts." The boy whimpered.
The mother, with a quick glance at her son, nodded her consent to Carlisle. "Please, take it out."
Esme wrapped her arms around her, drawing her coat closer round her body and pinching her arm painfully. It was supposed to be a distraction, but she felt no pain from the action. Instead, she focused on Carlisle.
"Now, I need you to be brave for me." Carlisle told the young boy soothingly. "It'll hurt a little, but as soon as the shard is out, the pain will stop."
The boy nodded, tears still streaming down his reddened cheeks.
Expertly, Carlisle gently eased the shard of glass out of the boy's tiny finger. The piece wasn't big, but the jagged edges had been enough to draw blood. The boy gave a little cry as it was pulled from his finger, but he instantly became interested in the glass as Carlisle removed it.
Placing the glass in his palm, Carlisle showed the boy. "See, all gone." He said. "You did very well, young man."
"What do you say, Benny?" The mother coaxed gently.
"Thank you, Doctor." The boy said, tilting his head slightly. "Can I keep it?"
"The glass?" Carlisle repeated in surprise, but then grinned in amusement. "No, I think it is better for the rest of your fingers if we put this somewhere safe - don't you?"
He's good with children, Esme thought, and it stung her heart. Carlisle had explained to her that it was not possible for vampires to conceive their own children, and that painful truth hurt her. She had pictured a young version of Carlisle; a boy with his curly golden hair, but that boy would never exist.
Benny thought about it for a moment, and then nodded. "It doesn't hurt anymore." He said, bringing his finger to his face to have a look at the tiny wound for himself. The bleeding had stopped.
Carlisle smiled. "Well done for being so brave." He said, turning to his mother. "I suggest cleaning the wound, just to keep it from getting infected. If you have access to plasters, it would be best to cover it until it's healed over."
"Thank you, Doctor Cullen." She said with a relieved smile, wrapping an arm around her son and kneeling down to kiss his cheek. The motherly act made Esme feel even worse. She gave Carlisle one last thnakful smile before leading the little boy away.
Within a second, Carlisle was back at Esme's side. He was momentarily surprised to see that she had not moved, but took in her frozen state and dark eyes.
He wrapped his arms around her, drawing her to his chest. "My love, you are incredible." He whispered to her, kissing her temple.
Esme pressed her face into his chest, gratefully breathing in his scent of cinnamon. His protective, comforting embrace made her feel better and worse all at the same time. "Incredible?" She repeated brokenly, as the realisation of the last few minutes dawned on her. "My thirst...for a child…"
"But, you controlled it." Carlisle reminded her, dropping another kiss to her hair "I am so proud of you, Esme."
"For not killing a little boy and drinking his blood?" Esme asked, remembering at least to keep her voice low so they were not overheard. Luckily, this part of the village seemed vacant of any passersby, for now.
Carlisle shook his head. "For maintaining control - for winning against your thirst."
She whimpered softly. "But it was for a little boy."
"Our natural instinct does not differentiate between genders, or race, or age - human is human." Carlisle told her firmly. "It is overpowering, whether it had been a young boy, a middle-aged man, or someone's grandfather. Just remember that you beat it. You didn't let it control you. Those golden eyes will soon be yours." He brushed a bit of her hair away from her face, affectionately tucking it behind her ear.
She leaned away from him in order to kiss the corner of his mouth. His words had eased her sadness, and although she had not yet forgiven herself for feeling such a way, Carlisle had helped. He always helped.
"I was starting to fear I'd be stuck with these scarlet eyes forever." She admitted.
He held her tighter, his hand stroking her soft hair. "You are beautiful with them." He reassured her. "I just think gold is more your colour."
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It was a conversation that Esme already knew the answer to, but the reminder of the truth was enough to make her unbeating heart feel like it was shattering in her chest. "Vampires cannot have children." She whispered.
Carlisle shook his head sadly, watching her from the couch. Esme stood by the window, her arms crossed over her chest and hands on her elbows, but from her body language, he couldn't work out if she desired space or comfort.
"I'm sorry," She said miserably, her eyes fixed on the trees surrounding the house. "It's just...seeing you with that boy today...I couldn't help but imagine..."
"I know." He admitted with a sigh. "I'd be lying if I said I haven't pictured what our child would look like."
She turned to look at him, her eyes sad. "I can see him." She whispered. "A little boy, with your golden curls..."
"Esme," He rose to his feet, crossing the room to stand in front of her. He cupped her face in his hands softly, relieved when she did not move away from the contact. "I'm sorry. If there was a way, I would search the world for it. But, it is not possible. Remember in Alaska, when I told you about what happened with Tanya's mother?"
It had been a horrible conversation shared between them one night, in private whilst the others had hunted. Carlisle had told her about Sasha and her 'immortal child' and what the Volturi had done. It fuelled Esme's hatred and fear from the Italian vampires, and she had wanted to cry when Carlisle had told her that vampires could not have children.
She covered his larger hands with her own. "I remember."
"I'm sorry." He said again, his forehead resting against hers so their noses could brush against each other.
"You know that I do not hate you for it, right?" She asked him, knowing where his mind was. "As sad as it is knowing we can never have a child together, I do not hate you for changing me. I had nothing when you found me, Carlisle, and you have given me so much. Yes, I'd love to have children with you, so much that the thought hurts. But, I am not angry with you. I could never be angry at you for it."
He sighed softly. "I love you."
She smiled slightly, feeling the sadness that had racked her body all afternoon slowly begin to disappear as she stood with him. Carlisle had the ability to chase away all her demons, replace the darkness with light, and she would forever be grateful for that. "I love you," She leaned up and kissed him.
Downstairs, the soft tune of the piano sounded, making them both smile.
Yes, she was sad about the fact she would never have a biological child with Carlisle, but downstairs, playing the piano softly, was a teenage boy that they both considered their son. Carlisle had given her a family, and she knew she would never understand how she had been so lucky to be reunited with him again.