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I don't know why my boss called me in.

In fact, I do. I just don't want to acknowledge that. It's not busy anymore, like at all. Especially with Alice gone. Though because Tilly is working too, she takes my unneeded presence as an excuse to do fuck all. This meaning that while I was expected to be free for the evening, just around as an excuse to touch and watch…I'm not actually available. Like the genius I am, I'm taking over in all her jobs, ignoring it when guess-who finds excuses to 'accidentally' touch my arms, my shoulders, my hair, of course my ass.

Here's to hoping to God the last hour comes quick.

Tilly won't stop talking to me as well which is making the end of my shift about thirty percent worse. Especially because she's not really talking to me, she's literally speaking at me: spewing all her nasally sentences like I care?

'What does Carlisle drink, Esme? Spirits, right? I bet he really loosens up when he's wasted.'

I don't know whether to roll my eyes or lose my temper. Instead I repeat the same thing I've been saying for the last few minutes, this time without sounding so friendly.

'For the last time, Tilly. He doesn't drink.' And on the rare occasions Edward and I had attempted to spike him, he would just give us a knowing smile and refuse it.

'Well, he'll drink it if he doesn't know. It's cause for celebration, isn't it?'

Don't bite the bait, whatever you do, don't bite the bait. My tongue wavers without discipline.

'What celebration?' I ask flippantly.

Tilly takes a step back on her dainty feet, placing a perfectly polished hand to her chest and giving a dire look of offence.

'It's basically our first date, of course.'

Of course! I'm smothering all my laughter in my shirt here. Taking a deep breath, I readdress her with a smug look.

'I don't think it'll be much of a date, Tilly? To start with, I'll be there?'

And secondly, I haven't even taught him how to snog yet? I'll tell her to come back when he's understood the basics of third base. She rolls her large eyes at me, somehow giving a theme of some top class 'Daddy's Girl' who suddenly went haywire.

'Yes but he'll be expecting you to leave? You won't be there for long.'

The tone of her voice is suggesting that she's already telling me what I should answer. And it's not in my favour.

... Is this a dream? Am I fucking dreaming right now? She was beyond delusional if she thought I was just going to hang back. She waits for my response like she's watching paint dry except the paint is expected to be agreeing with her.

'My own home?' I repeat, blinking a few more times.

'But it's not your home? It's belongs to Carlisle and Edward?'

Is she asking for a beating?

Did she want me to lose my shit?

I'm not a territorial girl but bring the fight Madame and I'll torch the place before I give it over.

This infant is delusional! If anyone had a higher stake on it than Carlisle it would be me. Edward had yet to learn where the fuse box is? We had a whole year there together before the Kid even started college. We half built everything in that house. I designed the insides, I built the insides, we had screwed and hammerd and bolted in every room.

In fact, being a medical student he'd hardly had time to help.

'It's your home, Es. Arrange as as you wish.'

And that had been all the permission needed for me to design his room.

'Pretty sure I live there, too?' I reply sarcastically but I doubt she's heard my tone. Jesus, if I bite my tongue anymore, I'm going to turn around and spit it on her.

'Perhaps. But if I was you, I'd start looking to move.' She says it as though this might be one of those human rights acts I've managed to misread and then adds: 'Oh! I'm such a jealous soul. There's no way I'll let him live with another girl.'

Completely involuntarily, I actually wretch. Like, I am so amazed by this utter bullshit that my body instinctively tells me to gag. This is what's happening, she calls me something as condescending as a girl and my stomach tries to hurl.

'Girl?' I repeat meekly.

Girl? Try grown ass fucking woman. I could take this pre-schooler down with one of my monthly's. Oh my God! She's giving me that look again!

My hands drop the shit I'm fiddling with in the cupboard and I literally turn from where I'm situated to gawp at her in a state of total mute-iny. (Get it, mute because for some dumb reason, I'm not saying a fucking word!)

She pushes herself off the counter with a bounce and comes closer till she's almost leering over me. Which isn't hard to do when I'm on the floor, clearing this stupid cupboard once again. Seriously- did no one else clean this shit?

'To be honest, Esme. I want you gone as soon as possible. It might not seem like a date to you but I know what Carlisle wants and he wants me.' She's by my neck now, her long hair touching my shoulder and making me uncomfortable. If she comes any closer I won't refrain myself from slapping her.

'I suggest you respect his choices.'

Choices?!

'...You know what, Tilly-?'

'Esme!'

For fuck sake, come on!

Dejectedly, I pull myself up and grimace to my boss who is giving me such a severe look that part of me wants to vomit again. He exhales through his nostrils and quite literally looks down at not only me, but worse, my shirt and apron.

'Do I have to see you in my office?!'

'No, Sir.'

Please no, please no, please no...

'Well I suggest-'

The shop door goes just then and the moment I see that fucking smile I swear to fuck, I nearly pass out. My boss follows my face, Tilly gasps and Cullen pulls himself through the door as if his legs are going to give up on him any second.

Not now. Anytime but now.

'In my office.' Seethes my boss, clamping a hand on my sore wrist. 'Soon as your shift ends!'

Carlisle drags himself to the front of the counter, clothes-wise looking as stable as ever but seeming more tired in his expression than I've ever seen him. He wobbles a little, breathing hard, chest palpitating and smiles at me a little shyly.

He hasn't noticed the other girl staring at him.

'I swear to you, I'm not exaggerating when I say I need like six double espressos.' He complains, attempting a loose grin and falling short due to the state of heavy eyes.

He looks like he's just been beaten up by Exhaustion and Exhaustion's buddy, Stress.

I look to my boss who grimaces, contemplating his next move before storming back into his office. Tilly has magically changed attitudes and is combing all her loose hair onto the food as she tries to thrust her way to Cullen...Who typically seems to have forgotten who the fuck she is.

'You heard the man, six espressos.' I say to Dumbo over here. She positively gawks at me.

'Now, Tilly!'

She frowns and gets to it as I grab Cullen by the zip of his jacket and pull him far to the hidden side of the room. I literally had forty minutes till the end of my shift?!

'What the hell are you doing here?!' I growl, abandoning my grip on him though his height forces him to curve over slightly. I'm knotting my hands in my hair as I try not to hyperventilate. How to get yourself in the biggest mess of the world exhibit A.

'Me?' He questions tiredly. 'Are you genuinely asking or are you looking for an excuse to yell at me?'

Urgh! I do not have time for his cheek when my dignity is on the line!

'Carlisle!'

'Fine,' He says playfully and then with a more reserved tone. 'I got sent home early.'

I try to relax my anger a little by pointing to a seat. He considers it for a few seconds before giving in and falling between the cushions, surprised by the comfort it offers him. I'm going to get into so much trouble for this- but I sit opposite him.

'Spill. Now.'

'I told you?' He answers, confused.

'Yes but why?' I demand urgently, throwing wary glances to the back of the shop.

This was the last thing I needed. He scratches his forehead and lets himself sink further into his seat.

'Unfit to work.' He quotes with his hands.

What the Fuck, Cullen?!

But my whole response instantly softens. He's never been unfit to work. Never had a sick day or a bad temper or made a mistake... If he got sent home and told off on the same day, things weren't good in the Saint's world.

'Why?' I ask, concerned, my mouth falling open and my brows knotting. He crookedly smiles back in a way that Edward has recently adopted.

'They sent me home to sleep.'

I groan once more, my tone even more sweet no matter how much anger I try to force into it:

'Then what are you doing here?' It's like he could almost hear the uncontrolled addition of 'my love' at the end of it, but I hold my lips tighter together as if to convince myself it isn't a possibility.

He's about to reply but Tilly has managed to walk over here on her tiptoes while simultaneously sticking her tissue tits out, which is an achievement considering she struggles to walk and breathe. With a deliberately slutty air, resembling many of the same poses employed in those DVDs I'd given to Carlisle, she places the tray down in front of him, kicking her lower back out into a curve and grins, almost suggesting she's about to sit on his lap but I jump and offer my seat.

'Just stay here, relax and just- just please don't cause any trouble. I finish soon.'

He smiles at me before rubbing both eyes and nodding. 'I'll be right here.'

I'm meant to be finishing in half an hour but because Cullen's gotten me into trouble, I agree to stay longer to shut up in hopes that'll get me out of visiting 'the office'.

'No customers after 9:30.' My boss warns with a locked jaw and the very statement is enough to fuck me right over.

In all honesty I expected Cullen's presence to be far more of a curse having just received my first punishment and so I consciously decide that if I manage to see Tilly worm her way into his good books, I just might lose my shit. Especially when he asked for a 'resubmission' early today. If he was asking me to teach then by God, I was going to teach him. What I wasn't going to do is let him set it into practice before I'd even started.

However, after a courtesy smile and a line of information he, quote: 'regretfully', sends her away back to my end of the shop and pulls out a huge medical textbook to study from while I stand barely a foot away, staring.

If he was so tired then what the hell he is doing wasting time studying at my work makes no sense- though the espressos were certainly kicking in. As slumped as his posture is, his eyes were reading at a pace that would otherwise be considered insane. His hands automatically write the words and though he looks tired, he repeats the Latin with a smile on his lips.

Within several minutes, not only is Tilly becoming everything I hate, in that she's bent by the till gawping over him and positively drooling down her shirt, but so am I. So even though I'm not as close as she is to him in literal centimetres, even from my stance by the sink, my eyes greedily read over his torturous expression of fatigue and only one thought clings to mind:

He's cute when he's tired.

'I can't wait to get against that body.' Tilly whispers, sounding particularly like this might have been deliberately said to make me jealous.

I pause once again in my act of polishing crockery and force myself to try and eradicate the shit thoughts in my brain. All I could think of was another woman, someone else in that bed, my bed, his bed- our bed…

My blood is boiling.

'I should tell you, Cullen isn't exactly the funk and dump type?' I explain obviously, trying to curb my bitchy tone. She's hopped back onto the counter I've just wiped and is essentially pumping herself full of hormones. To which he hasn't noticed, of course. He's studying. I couldn't be prouder.

'So? He's hot enough that I think a relationship could be good fun?'

Fun? Fun?!

She thought it would be fun. Well, it wouldn't be: it'd be life changing. You would spend every waking moment being worshiped while worshiping a fucking Saint. It wouldn't be fun. It would change your understanding of the world. The flowers would be brighter and bluer, the castle eerier and creepier, your ego would be fucking insatiable and to put it lightly- you'd be forever dehydrated just from looking at him.

He'd challenge you and support you and tease you. He'd spend all night reassuring you after bad grades. He'd clean just so you didn't have to worry about it. He'd organise weekends away, taxes, charity events. He'd eat your burnt foot and he'd supply you with drugs when you didn't feel right, he'd watch the films you loved, learn the lyrics of songs you grew up with. He'd buy every edition of your favourite book just so he didn't have to miss out on a single word you liked and better yet- he'd adore doing it.

That was just the platonic things.

Those were things he did for Edward and I. Even Alice and Emmett and Jasper.

What would he do for someone he was in a relationship with?

All of it. He'd do all of it. And he'd put the rest of the world to shame at the same time.

I can't believe this insipid bitch has actually been invited into my home?! By the fucking Saint.

'Hmm.' I growl.

'What about Edward, has he got someone?'

Are you kidding me right now?!

'If you're looking for a threesome. They aren't it.' I say stiffly. 'The Boys are closer than brothers. They're family?'

And thinking of them as any different was a sin to my vision.

'Esme! You Whore!' And then she bursts into a series of squawks or squeaks before pushing on my arm like we're fucking friends or something? 'I never meant like that!'

'Right?' I say quietly and move on to cleaning the silverware while trying to make sure my flatmate isn't getting eye-fucked without his permission, by this fuck of a fuck-up.

'No, I meant if it didn't work out?'

Why would it not work out with someone like Carlisle Cullen?! He was Mr. Fix-it. He could make anything work.

'Can you do me a favour?' I intervene.

Fucking do one. Off the planet.

'Can you run out the back and get the coffee to refill the container?'

'Oh?' She seems to be surprised she works in a coffee shop. 'If I must.'

I force a grin on my face and wait till she's out the room to throw a fork at Cullen. My aim is perfect, it takes him by surprise and he tears his ear phones out to raise an eyebrow at me.

'Urm? Ow?'

'I swear you're going to give me a fucking aneurysm.' I seethe, mimicking a guillotine motion with my thumb and my neck. He grins a little and finishes his cup.

'Because I'm hella sexy?'

Yes. Always.

Too many coffees for this school boy.

'Because you're too nice, you fucking moron!'

He reals a little but mistakenly assumes I'm being overdramatic before grinning, replacing his headphones and blocking me out once more.

It's now half nine, my boss has come out to the front with Tilly chattering in tow about utter nonsense. He glares at me, shoots the glare to the customer across our empty space and suddenly changes actors.

With a long and heavy stride, he walks up to the table, over-friendly and over nice and tells Cullen that he's got to leave because it's closing time.

'Really? There's no way I could just wait? I wouldn't be a bother?' He replies charmingly and for a second I feel like he's my school friend, pleading with my guardian to let me out to play.

'Company policy.' Replies my boss, gruffly.

'That's rather odd considering the doors don't close till Ten on a Thursday?'

My boss wasn't expecting to have his authority questioned and instead of glaring at my friend, which he does but on the sly, he turns around to watch my reaction. I simply melt to the floor in destabled panic.

'No point in keeping the shop open for one customer, is there? We would appreciate you drinking up so the staff can go home.'

'Ouch.' Cullen replies just as stiffly. He takes his time to pack his bag and instead of leaving immediately, he comes up to me at the till with a tense smile on his face.

'Can I get a takeaway cup, please?'

I decide looking at my boss will only shove nails into the coffin so immediately act on getting him yet another coffee. It is super extreme considering he's already filled himself with far too much caffine for the day but I'll give anything to have the extra seconds.

When I think no-ones looking, I used my curved signature to encase the cup with my writing, telling him I'll meet him at home but I'm aware that in my heart of hearts, he'll ignore it.

'$3.70, please.'

'No, no. On the house. We love to reward a customer's loyalty.' I follow my bosses instructions without turning and do my best to grin at my flatmate.

'Lucky me, eh?'

'I'll see you at home,' I try and warn. I.e. please fuck off before I have to pay the consequences. He takes the cup from my hand and winks though for once I don't appreciate it.

'Not if I see you first.' He promises and then turns to slowly walk towards the door, at a mid-showdown, verging on staring contestant with my boss.

'Bye Carlisle!' calls Tilly pathetically and she looks to me like she's projecting all her dirty thoughts onto my clean coffee counter.

'Yes. see you tomorrow, Tilly.'

Then he's gone, standing outside in the bitter cold while I wish for death.

My boss plays a different game. He rubs a sweaty hand down the front of his jacket before bolting the door like a flatline.

'Tilly, my Love, why don't you close up for once? Esme, office. Now.'

I move silently past her petulant whining and accept my fate through the slow walk to the office. My feet move automatically to the far corner of the room, where all the posh equipment is and I mentally prepare myself to talk myself out of what might be the worst night of my life.

The door opens and then shuts and with the secondary locks on his door clicking in my fate, I feel my shoulders uncontrollably shiver.

'Stay facing the wall.' He commands. His voice is as raspy as it is on the phone, somehow, so close to my neck it's far more sinister. 'Reinforcements, huh? Do you no longer trust me, Brown eyes.'

His slimy hand claps to the wall infront, inches from my face and I dangerously let out a gasp. Too close.

'I don't know what you're talking about?' I lie pathetically, over aware of his sweaty presence burning into my skin like liquid nitrogen down my collar.

His laugh is a harsh curse in my hair.

'I think you're lying to me.'

For fear of the answer, I keep my mouth shut and continue to glare at the wall, hoping the cement will somehow cement my strength. Or apparent lack thereof.

'Should I tell you my plan?' He whispers menacingly, stepping closer until his entire body shrouds mine. The shaking is taken up several notches as if I've got Huntington's and despite the amount of sweat pouring out of me, I'm shivering so violently, I keep nearly biting my tongue off.

'See,' he uses his weight to slam me into the wall so that I yelp a little before silencing myself once more. 'I don't appreciate disloyalty Esme. It's a disease.'

Apart from the unstoppable shaking, I don't move.

His mouth is on my neck.

'But for your little guard dog outside- I would fuck you till you begged to be punished.- You'd like that wouldn't you? Wouldn't you?'

The hand on the wall has come round to lie against my neck, just as a playful warning, thick and meaty like it could crush my throat in seconds.

'Instead, I'm just going to have to suffice myself on other pleasures.'

The claustrophobia of his body pushing against me leaves for just a second and I take the excuse to breathe as quietly as I can, filling my lungs with the pleasure of air. If I was lucky, I might pass out soon- on second thoughts, I can't conceive that being lucky.

'Drop your pants.'

'E-excuse me?' Talking feels like spitting rocks.

'I said-' His teeth are back to my ear. 'Drop your pants. Now!'

Don't do it, don't do it, don't fucking do it.

But again, my numb hands betray me in the worst way and I focus on the puddle of my black slacks on the floor.

'Now your underwear. Hurry up, for fuck sake.'

This one isn't my fault. My nails linger by my waistband and I'm so fucking frightened and so cold, I can't do anything. So he does it for me and tears the fabric down my legs till my bottom half is completely exposed.

I don't dare to breathe.

'I think I'll keep these for later.' He summises with another grin and out the corner of my eye, I watch him first press his nose into the crotch of the fabric and inhale then discard them in his pocket.

I'd never felt more betrayed, more utterly, unexplainably betrayed by my own body. Every inch of it, every mark of flesh sickened me.

'Bend over.'

'No.' I whisper silently, holding the panic as tightly as my face could.

'I said Bend Over-' His nails rip into the top on my leg, just above the top of my new bandage. Those dirty knives sink into my skin, causing new elements of damage and he pulls till I'm leant against the wall at an angle, weighted only by the tips of my toes.

The shakes are completely taking over my body now. My teeth are biting into my lip so bad that I can taste blood and my eyes are so tightly shut, I'm giving myself a headache.

A sharp blow in the form of a slap collides with my ass cheek and out of mortified surprise I choke on my own spit.

'I knew you'd enjoy this, you saucy bitch.'

The hand, as flat and as hard as a wooden paddle collides into my cheek again and this time the sound out of my throat is genuine pain. He does it again and I'm silent, so silent because I think I've swallowed my voice.

The whistle of his hand cutting through the air at speed will frighten me till my death. The raw sting of sore flesh burns but the pain becomes verbal once more. A weak and feeble whimper just tumbles out of my mouth like a lost breath.

Silence.

'Last one.' He teases and that wooden torture collides once more into my ass.

I don't scream. I don't do anything apart from shake from the cold, the Goosebumps mortifying my skin like a thousand needles.

There's a foul smell in the air of condensation, sweat and cold-blooded fear. So I wait. Though it spreads the burn from my backside to the joints in my knee and back again, I wait. I wait and I plead and I count.

Hour long minutes tick by.

'You'd better clean yourself up.' He says and there's a strange kind of demand in his tone that would suggest shame. I warily look behind to see him glaring at me. 'Well isn't your friend waiting?' He curses, the acid of his tone as abrasive as the original injury.

He didn't. He didn't... I thought he was going to...

I don't know whether to faint with gratitude or spew my guts in humiliation so, as guessed, I just shiver. He slices a hand at me to hurry up.

From his very posture, it's obvious I shouldn't expect my underwear back so I stretch the trouser material back over my ankles and secure the buttons tightly around my waist even though it makes me feel even sicker than I might have felt before.

My back is aching in stupid places but with a slight shuffle, I drag myself up into a straight posture.

'Well leave then?!' He says, pointing to the door.

Like a broken animal, I walk over to it, undo the several bolts with frail hands and walk to the front counter where with shaking hands, I try to get myself a glass of water.

Carlisle-? Fuck. Wasn't he meant to be outside?!

After searching to catch my gaze a little, he succeeds but his expression is a pained one. Like he's trying to hold his temper, like he knows something. With as much energy as I can, I try to walk properly and smile at him.

'It's started raining.' Tilly explains as if we're a bunch of 1950s housewives and she was being a kindly neighbour to the fellow man.

He's silent, watching my every move with calculation. I was only in there for ten minutes, realistically he knows that nothing eccentric could have happened-

And yet his shoulders move in such measured rises that I'm feeling a little frightened. He's too... decided. I don't think I'd ever seen him lose his shit. I didn't want to start now...

I don't answer. I just try to conceal my shaking enough to hold the glass upright but as soon as I fill it with any kind of cold water, the weight loosens my grip and I drop the glass so that it shatters into a million pieces in the sink.

'What the fuck was that? What did you break?'

'I've got it, I've got it.' Carlisle murmurs reassuringly. He's at my side in an instant. He's checking over my hands for any scraps and marks. The way his fingers are hovering about where my pulse is, is freaking me out. is voice lowers to a hushed growl. 'Are you okay?'

'I'm fine!' I curse, snatching back my hands and glaring as hard as I can at my flatmate. Now I'm shaking again. Shaking, and praying he hasn't noticed.

He leans over to turn the tap off and faces me straight on with a silent expression both completely blank and yet full of questions. His mouth is a hard line. He's waiting for an excuse to cause drama, you can see it.

'What-' He begins.

'For fuck sake, it's just a disciplinary. That's all!' As gently as I can muster, I shove him out my way to stomp towards the door. His long legs aren't far behind.

'Jeeez, it's just a glass, Esme. No need to cry about it?' Tilly says with a laugh, completely mocking my whole fury right now-.

'Do me a favour and clean it- I'll see you tomorrow.'

Grabbing my jacket and my shoulder bag, I leave, ignoring her face, ignoring his face and start to immediately make my way home in the pouring rain.

'Es. I've got the car?'

'I'd rather walk.' I spit back, letting the weather soak through my clothes and completely drown out my hair. At least now I have an excuse to shiver. And it saves getting in the car with him just to be hassled with demands.

'What happened?' He calls, pulling on my arm to stop me from walking any further.

Looks like I was wrong. Of course. As ever. The rain has picked up now, to the extent that its in my eyes and in my mouth and seeping through every layer of fabric until we are both at the same horrible temperature of cold.

'Jesus, Esme. You're soaked and you don't even have a coat. Let me get the car?'

'No!'

'I won't accept this-.' He says defeatedly and then more angriliy 'I just can't!' He turns from me not towards the parking lot but back towards the shop. To the front doors. He doesn't look calm.

'Where are you going?' I yell after him, debating whether to follow him or continue towards home. Something in my gut it's telling me to stop him, though.

Stop him, now.

'Taking some initiative!' He replies bitterly and with a thoughtless stride , he swings both arms to reveal two tightly curled fists bent at his thighs.

'What the heck are you doing?!' I yell after him, kicking myself for dropping my bag off my shoulder and running to catch him before he does exactly what it looks like he's planning to do.

'Let go of my arm.' He says stiffly, raising the forearm that I'm clinging to with all my miserable 'strength'.

'What do you think you're going to do?! Run in there and have a bust up?! Who the hell do you think you are?!' I demand in a panic. 'You think you just get to go in there causing a fuss because you feel like it?!'

'Something's happened,' He states knowingly with a forced shake of his head. 'He's done fucking something.This disciplinary's not right and I'm not having it-.' The power of his swearing surprises me again but before I get too lost in trying to define who it is looking so miserably at me, I pull his arm back once more in the hope to bring him down a step.

'I told you, he only yelled at me. Just drop it!' I plead. 'Please, just drive me home?!'

'Why are you lying to me?' He asks miserably, spitting drops of water from his lip, an arm still tensed like steel.

'You're being paranoid- what do you think could've honestly happened in ten minutes, Carlisle?!'

Now I'm really shaking. The last thing I needed was to let Cullen be the reason for my financial poverty let alone my career and educational meltdown. And I certainly didn't need it all the while he was wearing his Doctor's badge. For fuck sake, he was going to get his license to practice revoked.

'Paranoid, huh? Right.' He says dismissively, shaking his head bitterly. 'I can see it, Esme. You're as white as a ghost. Just paranoia, right? Fine. But you're shaking, too.'

'It's raining!' I reply pathetically, wrapping my arms tightly around my torso in attempt to hold myself still.

'It wasn't raining in there! Even your lip is bleeding!'

'Torn skin.' I lie quickly, wiping off the blood with my tongue. That horrible metallic taste floods in and I scrunch my nose in disgust.

He groans, fisting a hand through his hair to push it back. In doing so, it's only allowed more drops of rain to soak his forehead and fall to nose, sink to his lip. 'Fine, paranoid. So paranoid, I won't even mention your pulse.!' I fucking knew he was trying to bloody doctor me. 'Sure, I'm paranoid. But you are limping!'

'I'm not!' I cry. 'Stop trying to tell me what I am! I'm fine!'

'No, you're not.' He replies knowingly. 'You're in shock.'

That was accurate enough.

'Okay, so I'm not fine. You know what a disciplinary means, Carlisle? It might mean losing my job. Of course I'm not fine. Do you really think going in there and firing me quicker is going to help at all?!' As I speak, rapidly, shivering, words swollen and unfriendly I expect he might tear his arm from my grip. Might flinch as he used to do all those years ago. He doesn't. 'Of course I'm in shock. I'm... I'm frightened, okay? I'm angry and I'm frightened and I'm fucking cold-'

He stops for a second, re-thinking before climbing down the steps to stand in front of me.

'You're losing your job?' He asks skeptically, frowning harder to stop the suggestion of belief taking over. With my only chance of blissful ignorance, I lie and I lie hard.

'I could be, yeah.' If you go storming in there, I will be.

He pauses a little longer, watching me intently. 'So...he really did just reprimand you?'

'Yes, of course.' That certainly wasn't a mistruth. 'Why would I lie?' I add, guility.

'He didn't...touch you?'

I don't have the words this time so instead, I just shake my head.

'And you're mad only because of this disciplinary?'

'I'm not mad, Carlisle, I'm stressed. I'm freaking the fuck out and you having me on surveillance isn't helping!' He looks guility from my face and then to the floor, letting more drops of rain seep down his neck into the collar of his shirt. 'Firstly, it's fucking patronising, secondly, it's weird!'

'I don't have you on surveillance?'

'Yeah? What about Alice and you taking it in turns to baby-sit? Even Edward?'

The tone of our yelling has fallen down to one of undeniable guilt but at least it's easier to look at him now. Even if his sorry expression makes me want to curl up and hide.

I'm pure scum.

'I'm sorry...I just-' He releases some of his energy into a measured breath, letting the cold puff out a little cloud of air. 'I just can't have you getting hurt,' He confesses quietly. 'Or humiliated, or taking advantage of or-'

'You can't wrap me in bubble-wrap?'

He nods slightly, a tilt of his chin.

'You just need to trust that I can fend for myself.' I add, wiping the wet from my cheeks. The rain continues to fall.

He frowns a little, chewing on his tongue. 'Even when you haven't eaten properly for the last three weeks?'

'Stop parenting me!' I reply with a growl.

'Sorry, sorry.' He sighs again and rubs his head as though he's suffering from a headache. 'If anything happened to you, I'd just-' He shakes his head, swallowing the words.

It made my chest hurt.

'Can we just go now? I'll let you drive? You're right, it's cold.' And I give myself the right to shiver accordingly. He looks up smiles sightly before nodding.

'Let me just grab our ride.' And looping in order to pick up my soaked shoulder bag, he disappears into the lot to grab the car.

Sitting down on those sexy ass leather seats immediately comes with a severe amount of pain and I have to be very gentle in not wanting to draw attention to myself.

'Are you okay?' He asks with a frown. I've shut the door now and even though I was in the rain for less than five minutes, I'm soaked through and so cold, my teeth are chattering.

'It's raining.' I reply, shuddering violently. He frowns, leans behind him to throw his coat on my lap and then turn the heaters on in the front with a flick of his fingertips.

'Better?' He asks with a grin. I nod and breathe into my fists to attempt to warm up.

'You've perked up?'

He smirks. The relief of my lies filling him up like helium. 'I've had like eight coffees. They're finally hitting my system. So, where are we going?'

'What?'

'Where are we going? Are we going home so that we dry off and eat or do we have to endure your submission piece though it doesn't have a due date?'

He smiles super widely again and impatiently shrugs his shoulders to some funky song on the radio which is bizarrely unlike him.

'Home. I just want to be at home.' I say softly, raising an eyebrow at one particular move that I know would have had me killing over in laughter on a better day. Despite the rain being kind enough to cleanse my clothes, I need a proper bath. Preferably full of acid and butt-pillows.

'Sure? I was only joking about-?'

'Just drive, Carlisle.' I plead quietly, making sure to smile so he doesn't panic.

He salutes playfully, and drives out of his semi parked space to get out on the road. I haven't said much which is dumb because I'm trying to cover up the fact I haven't said much by talking but I just feel so numb.