(In this chapter if the words are in italics – it denotes a dream sequence.)

(Also, for perfume connoisseurs – I chose Tom Ford Soeil Brulant eu de parfum for Dr. Cullen)

As she lay in bed that night, Aurora kept thinking back to that afternoon and her chance encounter with none other than Dr. Cullen. Despite kicking herself mentally for smirking the whole way home and feeling as if she were dancing on soda bubbles, she couldn't help herself. The man was handsome. Though Aurora thought the doctor was handsome in a sort of majestic way that sculptures or painting of ancient gods were, she was also slightly perturbed by him. She kept rubbing her fingers and wondering how and why there was an almost electric shock that reverberated through her whole body when his fingers grazed her. Then there was the question of why his fingers were so cold. It wasn't the kind of cold that seemed normal. Sure, Aurora herself was always teased for complaining about being cold, but this was different. It's as if his skin was ice itself. As she mulled all this over, more wonderings came to her. His eyes? What was it about his eyes? When she first met him, they were the same warm golden honey color as today, but then they seemed dark, and yet today they weren't. Did he wear contacts? That didn't make any sense either. Even he had been wearing contacts his eyes couldn't just have completely changed colors in seconds, unless he had taken them out. She huffed and threw the heavy down blanket from her body. She couldn't seem to find a comfortable position in her usually comfortable King size bed. What was worse, was that her gash was now healing and starting to itch, but it still got sore if she laid on her arm for too long. After some more aimless staring at the darkened ceiling, she finally fell into a shallow sleep.

Aurora could feel the mattress shift slightly under her. She groaned, turning to her side, trying to move away from the unfamiliar force, snuggling down further into the warm blanket. Yet it seemed whatever the unseen force was, it moved closer to her. A strange musky scent tickled her nose. She inhaled softly, wondering in confusion why the smell of citrus, wood, and leather was in her room. Opening her eyes, she turned her body back towards the unseen thing. As her eyes adjusted, she realized she was staring into a pair of golden eyes that were alight. Before she could yell or wriggle away, an icy cold finger was pressed to her lips. She could feel her body beginning to tremble as goosebumps erupted over her neck and arms. She swallowed hard though her throat felt dry and constricted. Oddly she didn't feel afraid.

"I realized that I didn't check your arm," he said softly, his voice like that of a violin. "And I would be remised not to check up on a patient's health."

Aurora saw as his hands slowly reached for the arm above her head. She dared not move a muscle as he bent over her body and with delicate, precise movements, unwound the bandage. His crisply pressed white button-down shirt seemed immaculate just like the rest of him. Aurora could make out that the shirt hid a godly body. His eyes scanned the nearly healed wound. The thin red lips turned into a smile.

"I see you followed my advice very carefully," he whispered. "Good girl."

He lowered his head towards Aurora, making her heart slam into her throat. A soft, feather-like kiss was placed on her head. She whimpered slightly, trying not wriggle underneath him. His body was a mere inch away from hers. She stared up at him through lower lashes.

"Please don't leave," she simpered.

He shook his head, clicking his tongue, though a smile still played on his lips.

"I only came to see if you're all right. Now go back to bed," he crooned.

Aurora sighed, staring at him.

"Carlisle?" she called his name.

As the man stood up, he froze at his name coming from her lips. It seemed so innocent, almost like that of a baby bird learning to sing for the first time. Aurora sat up in bed and looked up into his pale face.

"Carlisle, taste me," she whispered, the words hungry and needing.

The man in front of her froze. She could see that the golden light in his eyes was replaced by a darkness and foreboding. She shivered slightly as his figure loomed tall over her.

"I'm not afraid Carlisle. Please," she begged.

Carlisle sat back down next to the trembling girl. His eyes were smoldering behind their darkness, as he slowly licked his lips.

"I can't Aurora," he whispered. "I can't control my hunger around you. If I taste your flesh, I will…" his voice trailed off as a pained look washed over his face.

Aurora placed her hand on his chest but could only feel her own thundering heart.

"Carlisle you won't," she replied. "You won't because… because you…"

Carlisle, smiled down at her, taking his finger and tracing her pouting lip with it. Aurora allowed her tongue to lightly brush over the tips of his finger. The warmth of her mouth drove Carlisle to the edge of all that he feared, all that he had hoped to avoid in his centuries as a vampire. His eyes clouded over as his other hand balled into a fist.

"Don't," he said softly, but with a stern warning in his voice.

She stopped and looked into his night-black eyes before she leaned into him, craning her neck to meet his face. She barely brushed his lips with hers, but that's all it took before the man forcefully pinned her to the bed, his strong fingers nearly crushing her wrists as he held them above her. Her neck was exposed as her head rolled to one side. A strange light came into the shimmering green eyes of the woman. Carlisle bent over, inhaling the intoxicating scent of jasmine, sandalwood and flesh as he felt her veins pulsing beneath him. His mouth already watering longed to taste her flesh. He could no longer keep the caged beast inside of him. It had been let loose and was waiting for its prize. And as his fangs grazed the soft skin, ready to sink in and allow her blood to spurt from her body, he heard her whisper. It wasn't fear or anger or sadness or rage. The voice was like that of caramel melting in one's mouth.

"Carlisle, I love you," she said.

Aurora sat bolt up right in her bed, sweat dripping down her head and sticking to the small of her back. Her eyes scanned frantically every corner of the room. It was almost dawn, as a pale light bathed the small bedroom. Her breathing was ragged and shallow as her heart slammed into her ribcage in a terrifying rhythm. Her whole body felt like it was encased in cement, unwilling to move. She slumped back down into her bed, not fully awake and not fully asleep. Her eyes closed as tears freely ran down her cheeks. A soft sob escaped her lips. She tried to bite down on her lip, drawing blood. The sobs racked her body until she could cry no more and closed her eyes. An unyielding darkness enveloped her as she fell into a dreamless sleep.

As Aurora cried softly in her bed, Carlisle stared out of the window of his study. There were dark rings around his eyes and his cheeks looked gaunter than ever. He leaned his body against the window. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. His head was pressed against the pane of glass as his hands were balled up into fists.

"I love you too," he murmured.