Writing on the Wall

Chapter 5: Admission

Bella

Weeks passed. Then a month.

I'd expected him to come back sooner, but when Professor Jansen stayed for a couple more weeks, I decided to stop expecting. I mean, he said he'll return, just didn't specify when.

I made good on my promise to take my time and think about the situation. I spent most of my hours either doing homework (I had to make an extra effort, knowing Jansen's expectations), working as a part-time waitress at a coffee shop off-campus––I realized I needed the extra buffer for my savings––or spending time with my new friends.

It was during these weeks that I learned that Penelope actually had a boyfriend, a tall, shy boy with glasses in the same major as I was. The couple were kind enough to let me crash their movie dates once in a while. Penelope would also keep me distracted by her endless stories about everything and everyone, and it was when I realized she had a knack for making even the most boring story sound like the most interesting thing in the world.

However, I spent most of my time with Bruce, who always made himself especially available whenever he could. We'd stay in the library doing Victorian Lit papers together. He'd accompany me to my classes when he was available, and in return, I'd accompany him to flag football practice from time to time. He'd become my closest friend, and I'd like to think he thought of me similarly; after all, he opened a lot about himself. I'd learned that he stayed with his mom, who was very sickly. She was his main drive for wanting to pursue a medical career.

"Pretty sure I'd be a football star if that wasn't in the picture," he'd said.

He was sweet. Maybe perfect, even. He broke the stereotype––which I was guilty of initially thinking––of very congenial football frat men; there wasn't a single red flag to him.

Well, except maybe his overconfidence. And occasional childishness.

"So am I your boyfriend?" he said without warning as we walked to Victorian Lit together.

"I'm not falling for that," I said simply, not even looking up from the copy of Tess of the d'Urbervilles in my hands.

He surprised me by taking my hand, swinging it exaggeratedly from side to side. I was too stunned by his brazenness to pull away sooner than I did. "What the hell are you…"

"I don't know," he simply shrugged, a smile still plastered on his face. "I mean, we hang out together a lot. You know about my life, I know about yours. You watch me play football. I'm probably with you more than my brothers and friends, honestly. The thought just occurred to me."

"Well, un-occur it," I laughed, waving my hand in the air.

"Why?" he asked, his face turning serious. He even stopped walking, even though we were only a few steps away from the lecture hall. "You don't like me?"

I had to think about that. It would be a lie to say I never thought about it, of course, given the fact he was the only guy I hung around with on campus. It would also be a lie to say I didn't find him attractive, sweet, or nice.

Maybe I could like him. It would be easy, and I knew several girls who would kill to take my place. But I realized that I didn't really want to.

"I do," I sighed.

That satisfied him, I think, because his smile returned and he began walking with me again. "That's a start, at least."

He opened the door for me, and when I stepped in, the professor was already at the platform desk. Only it wasn't Professor Jansen.

I immediately heard my quickened heartbeat ringing in my ears, and my palms began to sweat around the book I was holding.

I realized I was never going to get used to seeing Carlisle Cullen. I could probably see him once everyday and react the exact same way each time. His blond hair was slicked back naturally, and today he wore a charming blue vest with a beige scarf––designer, I was sure––hanging around his pale neck. He was sitting on the corner of the desk almost leisurely, hands tucked in his pair of chinos.

His expression was unreadable and I couldn't tell if he was happy to see me. That unnerved me. His eyes drifted briefly to Bruce, who I could tell was quietly observing our interaction from the corner of my eye, and back to me again, his expression unchanging.

"Welcome back, professor," I heard Bruce greet in a monotone, before nudging me to walk with him to our seats. I obliged, shying away from Carlisle's intense gaze. I was sure I felt it piercing into my back as I went to my desk.

The class was significantly more participative than usual, due to obvious reasons. However, while Carlisle maintained a calm, forthcoming composure throughout his lecture on the text, he kept his jaw tight. Even worse, I could've sworn he was purposely ignoring me for the rest of the class; he avoided making eye contact with me and would call on others even if my hand was raised.

Where in the world had he been and what made him…change?

I felt my heart sink deeper and deeper as the hour went on. I even gave up taking down notes, and resorted to staring at him, daring him to look at me. He never did.

My eyes were starting to sting.

Why did it hurt so bad? Did he decide it best to stay away from me permanently and that I wasn't worth the effort? He did keep his promise of returning, but God––being in close proximity to him and being blatantly treated this way…It felt worse than actually being left behind. My mind began to play future scenarios as it always did; would I be able to survive a semester of this? If not, would they let me drop the class this late in the semester? Well, I could just fail it, maybe even transfer schools, come back to Forks, maybe––

"That's all for today," I heard him saying, shooting a tight smile to the class. "I will be returning your papers next week, and expecting your next submission by then as well. You're all dismissed."

Bruce stood up immediately to leave, gesturing me to join him. "We can get a quick snack before I head to class."

I didn't respond, but quietly stood to follow him. As I walked past the desk, I struggled but succeeded in not looking back at my professor.

However, that didn't stop me from taking a whiff of his familiar clean, fresh scent, which I'd terribly missed.

Bruce and I eventually reached the vending machine at the other end of the building. Even until he bought and gave me a bag of my favorite chips, he didn't say a word, as if he knew I was upset. He wasn't wrong.

It was when I took my first bite of my snack when it finally hit me.

Carlisle. Vampire. Predator. Highly acute sense of hearing.

You don't like me?

I do.

The unreadable expression of his face, staring at Bruce, the locked jaw, the avoidance. Fuck, he wasn't angry.

"I have to go somewhere," I suddenly said, shoving the chips in my bag.

"What?" Bruce said incredulously. "I thought––"

"Yeah, I'm late for something," I mumbled lamely. "I'll text you later. Thanks for the chips."

I didn't even look back as I basically ran back the direction I'd come from, my heart beginning to swell with hope. I wasn't a hundred percent confident I was right, but it was enough.

I mean, I hoped it was.

He was still in the empty classroom when I reached it, leaning on the corner of the desk again with his arms crossed this time. Only when I stepped in the room and closed the door behind me did he finally turn his head up to look at me in the eyes, pure melted gold boring into my brown ones.

God, I really hoped I was right.

Before he could say a word or I could overthink it, I used up all of the courage in my body to basically run to him, grabbing his marble face to pull his lips towards mine.

He didn't move at first, his posture rivaling a marble statue. I began to panic. Maybe I was wrong––

Then I felt a pair of hard, and yet gentle hands on my small of my back, pulling me slightly towards him. His full marble lips began to gradually move against mine, so very slowly. A hesitant dance. Not because he was unsure, but because he was trying to maintain control.

He pulled away from me slightly and opened his eyes, his lips still hovering just a few inches from mine. His unreadable expression was gone; it was replaced by relief, and something else…

Without another word, Carlisle closed the gap to kiss me again.

This was surer, now. His lips moved more confidently, his tongue teasing my bottom lip slightly that I couldn't help but release a shaky breath. His hands moved from my back to the side of my arms, and while I shivered at the temperature difference, I couldn't get enough of his touch.

He let out a soft, barely audible moan in between breaths, causing a small vibration that awakened something at the core beneath my stomach––something I hadn't felt in a while.

My hands moved from his face and to his wide shoulders, unintentionally digging my nails into his shirt.

He gently pulled away then, but kept his hands firmly on my waist. He stared at me with tenderness. I realized he was waiting for me to speak.

"Do I have to say it?" I muttered, twisting on a fold of his vest.

"For clarity, yes."

I laughed once, before pursing my lips. "You know, I did good on my promise. I thought about it. But I…I realize that while I can be happy on my own, it's just never going to be enough for me."

"And the boy?"

I couldn't help but bark out my laughter, earning a bashful smile from him. That's it, I absolutely adored him. "Carlisle, please."

He smiled completely, teeth radiant and glowing. "I apologize. I didn't mean to assume. You mustn't blame me, though, I did give you the choice."

"From day one, you've given me all the choices," I said. "You can even keep giving me more. But in the end, I'll choose the same."

His smile disappeared and his eyes softened. Slowly, he raised a hand to play with a strand of my hair. "I told myself that if given the chance, I would like to do this the correct way. The last thing I expected to do was snog you in a classroom like a teenager."

"I'm sorry about that. But since when has anything that had anything to do with me been normal?" I chuckled. "God, there's a rule or something here, right? Students are not to fraternize with the faculty?"

"I'll quit," he promised earnestly.

"Don't you dare," I countered. "There's no rush."

"Then at least give me the chance to court you," he murmured, taking one of my hands with both of his and pressing his lips softly on a knuckle. I flushed at the contact. "No matter how unconventional this will be, I'd like to try."

"Hmm," I began. "Does that mean you can't kiss me anymore?"

He gave me the world's sexiest smirk that I had to keep a hand on the desk to maintain my balance. "Perhaps not."

I frowned.

He caressed me by the chin again, a thumb lingering on the side of my face. "But you can. And of course, in the spirit of courtship, I'll have to oblige."

Carlisle

Alice was already waiting in my driveway for me, as I'd expected.

"Congratulations," she said with a fox smile. "I see you've taken Esme's advice."

If I was human, I was sure my cheeks would have turned scarlet at her words. "Hello to you too, Alice."

She laughed her high-pitched, bell-like laughter, as she walked with me to the front door. To my mild annoyance, she followed me even to my study, asking the most inane questions.

"Are you finally going to court her, Carlisle?" she went on. "Keep in mind, though, Bella grew up in a generation where that's frowned upon. I never understood why."

After a while: "I think it's romantic. The set-up, I mean. You, a professor, and she's your pupil. It's a great plot line for a romance novel, to be honest. Maybe she's into it, too, that's why she told you not to quit."

A couple of hours later, while I was accomplishing––well, struggling to do so, is more apt––my backlogs of papers to check, she went on: "I wonder if she'll ask to be changed as soon as possible, too, like last time…I mean, I did have a vision of her as one of us, but maybe she'll want to wait a bit––"

"Alice," I drawled, not looking up from my work. "Isn't Jasper going to wonder you've gone?"

She groaned in frustration. "You're not giving me anything, Carlisle. Must I remind you, again, that I'm not the mind reader of the family?" A pause, and I looked up to see her process one of her visions. "Jasper'll be here in ten minutes."

"Wonderful," I said sarcastically.

"Please," she groaned once more. "I'll have you know, you haven't even opened up the invitation to bring her to meet us yet. If you did, I wouldn't be asking you these things because I'll be getting the answers straight from her."

I sighed. It was true, I'd been delaying Bella to meet Alice and Jasper again. I wanted to be completely sure she wanted us––me––in her life. "I'll give you the invitation, if you can do one thing for me."

Her large eyes brightened with the thought of seeing Bella again. "Anything."

I pursed my lips and leaned back a bit in my office chair. "Can you promise me to, at the very least, avoid looking into Bella's future from now on?"

Alice immediately frowned, crossing her arms. "Why?"

"Because…" I trailed off, trying to form my words correctly. "Well, because I want her to be comfortable. I want to respect her privacy, and that includes the privacy of her choices. It's something I don't believe she's gotten from us before."

Her expression turned solemn. "You really, truly care about her, don't you?"

"Was it unclear before?"

She giggled. "Oh, it wasn't. Just now it's crystal clear, and perhaps only sinking in to me at the moment." She leapt forward and sat on the corner of my desk. "Bella's a wonderful girl––no, the most wonderful human I've ever met. If anyone's going to be able to take the best care of her, it's you, Carlisle."

That warmed my heart––what's left of it, at least. "Thank you, Alice."

"Can I ask just one more question? Please?"

I hesitated. "Alright, one."

"By 'there's no rush'," she said slowly, playing with one of the wild tips of her hair. "How slow do you think she means? How are you going to play this out?"

"Oh, Alice," I said endearingly. "I've lived three centuries not truly knowing what to live for. I can wait three centuries more."