Once more, I cannot thank you enough for the loving reviews and support. I've had so much fun with these chapters and especially the ones coming up. I think I can honestly say the next chapter was one of my favourites to write and I hope you'll see why.
Anyway, I'd apprecate your amazing support just as much this time round - thank you soooo much! You're all awesome!
'Es,' he mumbles, troublesomely, the gentle flow of his breath tripping from his lips to mine in an intoxicating rush. He's got those sapphires tightly closed as if avoiding the truth of the matter. Avoiding the fact that he can't help but to fall into my seduction. Step by step, still reluctant to abandon himself completely, he follows my sweet torture.
He lets me seduce him.
I hum gently, squeezing my hands tighter into his own warms palms as though buckling myself to him. The black of his T-shirt seems to evaporate into the dark. Mainly because it's doing little in regards to moving. Tense and nervous, he knows this isn't what he should be doing. He Should be holding the upper hand, he should be fighting.
'Es,' he croaks again, slightly louder this time but it does nothing to stop me. How could it when he's falling so eagerly into my leadership?
I lift my head up to the perfect height, angling my mouth so neatly in conjunction to his that all he would have to do is lean and we'd be joined.
'Shh,' I hush gently. He shivers a little, surprised by the unexpected taste of my words.
My own nerves are starting to play up now, especially with the reminder that we've been a similar position before. We always get so close- and yet never close enough. I want him. I don't care if I'm intoxicated or not, I don't care if I'm not thinking straight. The most sober feeling I have coursing through my veins is the depth of how profoundly I need his intimacy.
I don't just want to get off on his sexy-as-hell body. I want more and it is only under the intensity of his warmth that I realise this.
I want to have the blessing of his nudity, I want to feel his admiration, his surprise, his teasing compliments and I want them to be dedicated only to me. I need him to find me as desirable as I do him. I need him to make love to me. Not just with his body, but with all of him.
His expression shares twinges of concern, thin lines disrupting the smoothness of his forehead as he, in fear, still relies on his blindness to hide his immorality. Immorality. What a dumb term. Immorality for him is a blessing for me and it stings to see how conflicted he stands before my eyes.
'Please, Es.' This is a little more like a plea on my humanity.
Like another passing scratch, it catches me for a second. I think about the implications of my actions if I continue to push him over the edge. Personally, I can't see the issue. I'm more than attracted to him. My desire has already been acknowledged and referenced; taking matters into my own hands is simply a way to help speed his growth. To make him comfortable.
His fingers are hesitant to loosen their hold on mine. Even despite my hints. Eventfully, he relents, opening up both palms and letting my grip slip from his. He trembles very slightly. Not enough to be worrying but enough to remind me to be gentle. He breathes my perfume through his nose and exhales it through his mouth like a faulty car engine.
'You need to relax, Carlisle.'
Snaking one hand behind his neck, I gently weave the very ends of his light hair through to my knuckles. He's still warm, jarred by the lower temperature of my icy skin but takes no action to push me away. Statuesque and far more beautiful, he fears any further movement but doesn't reject it.
'Breathe slowly.' I soothe, gently combing through his hair, encouraging him to come-around to my close proximity. Despite himself, he smiles and does as I advise.
With my left hand, I pinch the seam of his jeans, close to where his pocket is. He jumps this time. Not violently but carefully, avoiding any kind of touch that he would deem too close for comfort. And yet those perfect teeth rake over his bottom lip. The sudden hitch of his breathing sounding exasperatingly sweet.
My boldness is the kind to frighten him off so I try to listen to my own words and stay calm. I move slowly, agonisingly slowly, teasing him and mystifying the tone between us.
'Live a little?' I add, joyfully. His eyebrows look fiercer but the corner of his mouth twitches playfully and it's enough of a green light for me to go ahead.
My left hand trails the seam up: a simple fingertip against the line of his thigh, drawing up and stopping at his belt. The frown becomes worrisome. So I move my hand to his T-shirt hem and delicately drop my right hand, lightly scratching my nails against the curve of his spine so that he shivers beneath my touch. Teeth bite harder.
Tugging the shirt free from his pants, I wait for him to relax a little before continuing. His breath is hot now, burning my tongue. Rich with potential.
My hands are cold. Which he inevitably feels when I place them in the hollow of his bare back, but the skin-to-skin contact seems to loosen his panic. It doesn't loosen mine. The way his smoothness excites is enough for me to kill over with delight. The fierce eyebrows have changed to confusion and though he is still biting his lip, he doesn't shy away from my touch.
If anyone is freaking out, it's me. The silence of the room seems to amplify my needy panting and desperate for the ecstasy of his tantalising body against my own, I immerse myself in his whole scent. But I quickly become greedy. His breath, his cologne, his beauty, and his silk soft skin is driving me crazy. So acting passionately and irrationally, I rake my nails up the sides of his back and expertly separate the cotton from the cool. A clammy hand coming to his torso.
He arches his spine towards me, shivering a little but falling victim to my charms. With the back of his shirt looped so far up his back, he quickly understands my instruction. Still with tightly closed eyes, and with the addition of my impatience, he fiercely pulls off his shirt and gasps for the relief of air.
Fucking hell. I creaming myself, I swear to God.
I've never been in this position before. But for a second, I'm so astutely nervous. I don't know what to do. My own blood sugar seems to joke and though I have one more layer on than him, and though the heat radiating from the both of us is enough to fuel Canada, I shudder all over.
'You're gorgeous, Carlisle…'
'I'm disgusting.' He replies and it's obvious that he's referring to his actions rather than his genuine attractiveness. Which is so fucking stunning, I'm actually drooling.
I don't know where to put my hands at first. Now I have the extensive freedoms of his whole torso, I'm lost in riches. I want to consume every fine molecule, I want to savour it and devour it simultaneously.
Though it feels like eternity, my brain soon kicks in and spontaneously, as an act of true compulsion, I place my hand over his heart.
It's heavy, erratic but ever so beautiful and when I place another hand to my own chest to compare the rhythms, I realise they're both out of pattern. We are both as nervy as the other. That's a sobering thought.
He's naturally warm anyway, so to be touching his core processer is like holding my hands to a warm fire. The closer I get to him, the more addicted I am to the feeling.
'Heart rates a bit high.' I murmur, shyly looking up to register his beauty. I jump. I didn't expect the dark hit of his navy eyes to be staring back at me. Especially after he's spent so long pretending not to be aware of what's going on around him.
'Breathing's bit irregular, too.' He chuckles, seeming to exemplify his meaning as he speaks. It reminds me to listen to my own breathing. Quiet but heavy and totally undetectable in response to him.
'I think I must need a doctor.' I joke, kinking up an eyebrow.
He wrinkles his nose, a smile on his face as he smooths the waves of my hair. It's a gentle movement. Calming and totally capable of silencing my concerns in ways I'd never thought to imagine. He's gentle and focused, making my skin stand on edge and my nerves tingle.
'Not your best line.'
He keeps his eyes on my lower lip, tempted by the impossible. I try to lean a little more into him, to persuade him, to seduce him with my eyes and open mouth. But he's impertinent. In that he's not impertinent. He's gentlemanly and doesn't do as I ask to close the space between us.
My hand is still taking in his heartbeat, winding me down the more he calms, and sucking me into his chemicals. Flooding my brain with them. I move my hand, letting it trace his body, to follow the definitions of his athleticism- oh fuck me, he's ridiculously hot.
The frown has returned, as has the closed eyes and bitten lip but I can hardly take it offensively. His chin is tilted to the opposite way from my face as though he's fighting the temptation to groan in my face. I can't hold it anymore. I pull him to me with one hand, flatten myself tightly against him and surround myself on his hissing reprimands. To himself this time, they're not directed at me.
To be honest, I'm failing to hear what he's groaning about. I've just had to stop myself from announcing my own dirty vocalisations from the simple touch of his naked ass torso to this crappy button down.
'Es,' he complains tightly, gushing out a breath as though he's suffocating.
I can't wait any longer. I'm wet and pulsing. Any kind of touch from him is like I'm on the edge and even if he refuses to deliver, I need to satisfy this fire. Slipping my right hand down even further, I take a firm hold of his belt buckle and nearly moan in delight when his resistance from it falls flat and he groans once more.
I love his expressions. They were hot for all the right reasons. They were forbidden, they were dangerous and they are completely involuntary. Every time he groaned, he did it because he had to. Because that was his natural reaction, often followed by an act of restraint or repentance.
Still with a grip on his belt buckle, I drag him back into my torso, and make a show of wetting my lips with a wet tongue. He fights not to look but that doesn't matter much considering I have my mouth to his throat, in place of where I planning to kiss him. Simple, quick but effective enough that he won't want to keep his hands off me.
But it's better to do that sort of thing in bed.
So I wrap my left hand at his neck, tease him with my excessive flirting and breathing. Consuming all of him, reacting and bowing to his vocal contributions, I deliver the praise he so rightly deserves in turning me on to excruciating levels.
I'm about to pull him back with me, to fall hard onto the bed where I'll straddle him. I'm not wearing panties but that'll be an advantage, I think- he'll want me grinding on him. That'll get him hot for me. Any kind of release I can provide is going to help. And I need the release as bad as he does.
But just as I'm about to pull us back, he grabs me by the hip and pulls us in the opposite direction so that I stumble into him. My breathing hitches, the touch of his hand in such a close area makes my stomach tense.
Then I catch a glimpse of his face. He's gone. Completely distracted from whatever I might have had in mind.
Oh no.
Oh please God no. We were so fucking close? For fuck sake he's got his shirt off?! I was seconds away from heaven for fuck sake!
His whole expression is curiously perturbed and pulling me aside, suddenly unware of his lack of shirt and my lack of anything but a shirt, he moves to inspect the middle of the bed. With a gentle movement, he pushes me out of sight for a moment.
'Its fine, Carlisle?' I complain rather bitchily but I have every right. His whole focus is lost and he is completely unaware of our very near happening!
'Hold on?'
His nose is to the sheet like Inspector Holmes. The illusion is gone. Fantastic. He inspects the duvet, staring hard at it for a few seconds before rubbing a flat palm across the top and pulling it back sharply. Rubbing a thumb across the inside of his hand, he frowns.
'Can we please just-'
'Come here.' He instructs solidly and I'm so relieved that I'm sure I'm going to snog him-
He doesn't let me get close enough to try. Instead, he nods to the cover, pulls it aside and reveals a stack of thumbtacks scattered on the inside of the bedding. Cool?
'Forget the bed. We'll use the floor?' Please, please, please?
'You're not even slightly concerned that there's pins in our bed?' He accuses, raising a flirting eyebrow and for a second I'm so stuck in mourning my loss of opportunity that I nearly miss his point.
Our bed?
OUR bed?
He's referring to his bed as Ours?!
Oh my God, that is the most adorable thing I have heard in my entire life. Our bed, huh? Ours? Like, to share? I could share it now for sure. Maybe even more so because he's so sweet and thoughtful and adorable and oh my fucking God I just want to ride him so hard, he forgets his own fucking name.
'Esme?'
'Wha-what?'
He points to the offending items and frowns hard, contemplating his following sentence. With a sigh, he announces it loudly.
'Didn't you make an accusation earlier about a certain person snooping?'
'Point being?' I retort sourly. He guffaws and rubs his tired eyes with his thumb, letting his hair flop into his view and positively destroying our evening?!
'We could've been stabbed?'
'It's hardly worth complaining about Carlisle, it's not a knife is it?'
Fucking hell, you had to do it. You had to be that curious bastard. Fuck my fucking life.
'Okay, okay.' He agrees with a grin, walking away from the bed to pull on a shirt from his chest of drawers. It's such a small act but now I think I'm genuinely going to cry. Goodbye hope. Goodbye prospect. Goodbye chance of seduction. Hello sexual frustration and general annoyance.
'But where would she get pins from?' He announces randomly, looking accusingly at his room.
'I don't know, Carlisle. The hardware store?!'
He lets his eyes go guilty to the floor and then sheepishly surveys my temper. It's not going good.
'I'm sorry…' He says softly, trying to offer a smile as a peace offering. He can shove his peace offering up his fucking rear and retrieve it through his mouth for all I care. For fuck sake, why don't you just attach nipple clamps to me for the rest of my life?!
But seeing the glare on my face, the mourning in my heart, he places a warm hand at the back of my neck. The sting of yet another rejection is evident on my face and clearly filled with the guilt, he weaves his hand beneath my hair and quickly places a warm kiss to my temple.
I hate how nice it feels.
'Just be honest- Did you have any intention of sleeping with me?!' I demand emotively, trying not to fall to the temptation to throw the nearest fucking object at that obnoxiously big head of his.
Moving away from me now, his eyes widen and he genuinely stumbles over his words 'Es?!'
'Well did you?!' Fucking Hell you coward, answer the fucking point?!
He looks down again, pink in his face and more than just embarrassed. I should be feeling pretty sympathetic. I know the troubles of sex. I'm here to support him. But my God, it would be so much nicer if he would just give me a straight fucking answer! I'm throwing everything I've got at him right now- why doesn't he want me?!
'I don't know…' he mumbles quietly. 'Potentially? But-'
'Urgh! Rub my face in it why don't you?! Fucking hell, that's so irritating!'
His mouth twitches slightly but he continues to focus on looking at me as though he owes me the fucking world. Which to be honest, is just the beginning of it all.
'Am I assuming correctly when I predict sex is now completely off the table?'
Fuck those gorgeous eyes.
'I really am sorry…' He sighs honestly, tempted to stand next to me but he quickly abandons that idea on the state of my-. Well fucking everything really. I was moments away from pushing this naked body up to his.
I swear to God I am going to cry my fucking eyes out.
''Herpes', remember?'He uses his fingers to make the playful quotatio marks.
It's just a metaphor you bell-end!
'Fuck herpes, we would've used a condom!' I wait a few seconds to see if I'll realise how much of a twat I'm being and apologise. Nope. Nothing. Still bitter.
Unlike that twat over there who is laughing at me.
'Hon, listen. I really am sorry but you are drunk. I shouldn't have let it escalate to that and I take full responsibility-'
'You don't need to take responsibility! Just fucking snog me!'
… oh great.
Well done genius. How to get someone to really like you; yell abuse at them and demand they share their DNA. Great one. Fucking brilliant.
He stays very still, eyeing the spot on the floor where my bare feet are and watching them carefully. When he looks up, he looks wrought with frustration.
'Maybe it is best if I stay downstairs tonight?' He suggests, slowly and once more I want to hit him upside the head with metal chains.
'What and leave me with the pins? Thanks.'
'It's just weird considering I don't even know where she got them. Unless they're from my desk but-.' He looks up and spots that I'm still glaring. 'You're right, perhaps I should leave that for tomorrow.'
As angry as I am, there's one thing that is fighting with my insides. I don't want to sleep alone, of course I don't. But I really don't want to be without Carlisle. Especially after tonight.
'You're not really going downstairs are you?' I ask, avoiding facing up to how degrading and fucking lame I really am.
'Pardon?'
'You. Are you really going to go downstairs?'
Jeeez, when did downstairs turn into the abyss?
'Do you want me to?' He asks nervously.
'Do you want to?'
'No.'
No. Good. Thank Fuck.
'I guess we could watch a film or something?' I suggest lamely, pulling at my eyelid to seem just as vibrant as I was earlier but he's caught me like a hawk and grins.
'Bit late for that, don't you think?' He murmurs and per accident, he lets his eyes take in my legs. The little shake of realisation he gives himself is so violent, I'm wondering how he's trying to persuade himself that he's perfectly calm. 'Why don't you just let me clear these pins away and we can get some sleep? It's been a hectic night?'
You don't bloody say.
But because I am tired and angry and frustrated- I can't find the energy to deal with further rejections of the night.
Neither can he. He swallows thickly, scoots the mass of pins from the bed with a swipe and empties out his hand into his semi-open bedside table. Fuck. I thought I'd closed that-.
Holy shit, I hope I put that book back?! His expression is uninterested when he turns and declares the area danger-free. But now he's realised I've sank to the floor by the bed, my eyes heavy and my whole sense of worth-.
He raises an eyebrow.
'Well, sure our carpets are great. But you know as well as I do, the bed is better?'
I think I'm meant to smile. Or laugh. Or even wink at him. But his stare goes right through me.
'Not nauseous are you?'
I shake my head.
'Giving me the well-deserved silent treatment?' He urges, a timid grin lighting his face. My body makes no effort to move. My organs turn to rock and I'm bombarded with a sense of haggard distress.
The bed softly whines to accustom his weight as he sits on the corner by my shoulders, his hands clasped by his knees.
'I'm a mess, aren't I?' I say soberly, still staring at his chest of drawers.
I hear him hesitate, reach out to me and pull his hand back again like I haven't seen.
'I don't think so….'
'Not asking for you to be polite, Carlisle.'
'No, I know. I guess things are a little bit messy at the moment but that doesn't make you the problem.'
'Really?' I guffaw in disbelief.
'I shouldn't have led you on. It wasn't fair of me.'
At the very least.
'I shouldn't have tried to seduce you.' I add. He tries to smile but it doesn't reach his eyes. The hands by his knees are still fidgeting. 'I've never been rejected by anyone other than you, it's a little infuriating.'
He nods slightly and breathes in. 'I can't imagine.'
'Can't?'
'Can't.' He confirms. 'I can't see why in any world you'd choose the most inexperienced shit to want to…sleep with. Half the time I can't even see why you want to hold a conversation with me. I piss myself off.'
That was a bit of a word vomit. But I suspect he knows that because he's shaking his head at himself.
'You don't like yourself?' I realise.
'Do you like yourself?' He asks softly. The point resonates with me so poignantly that I sigh.
'Are you joking? Look how many times I've fucked up today, not to mention the whole week. I fucking despise myself.'
When I look up to him, I see he's got a tough expression on his face, like he's both surprised and afraid of my reaction to yet another rejection. All I'm blaming is that face. I can't be mad at him. He's making sense.
'Again, shouldn't. You amaze me in how calm you're being. It's very admirable, Hon.'
'You don't think I'm coping.' I surmise, eyeing him carefully. He grimaces.
'It's one of my theories. But only because I can't see how. As much as it grieves me to know it, I'd find so much satisfaction in causing major harm-…' The breath he forces himself to expiate is a difficult one and he rubs his eyes again like a distraction.
'Well, maybe we'll do the self-appreciation for the other. I like you plenty enough to cover your insecurities.'
'Naturally, I would say the same for you. Not exactly healthy though, is it?' He smiles gently.
'Well you're the doctor. You'll help us out.'
'I guess I had that coming…'
'Carlisle?' I say gently.
'Yes?'
'I think I'd quite like to sleep now…'
He nods and moves off the duvet, extending an arm to help me off the floor but I embarrassingly crumble a little and turn pink.
'Except- I'm kinda not wearing underwear…'
This sounded so much better when I thought I was getting him laid.
He exhales through his nose, his shoulders slumping as he rubs the corner of his eye and smiles.
'Would you like me to turn around or would you like to borrow something?'
I shrug at first but then I rub the sides of my arms, realising at last that it's actually kind of cold in here.
'I think I probably quite like to borrow something?'
It'll mean that at the very least he won't be afraid to sleep next to me. He nods politely and goes searching in his top drawer for the first thing he can put his hands on and then he stops, a harsh laugh cutting from his mouth as he groans.
'What's the matter?' I ask from the floor. Because, I can't trust my drunken feet to not expose me right now and it's just one of those things that I feel will be a hindrance rather than a help.
'Nope.'
'That's not an answer, Carlisle?'
'No.' He agrees, light-heartedly. 'And yet, I have nothing to offer you, I'm so sorry.' He turns where I'm sitting on the floor and makes a face. 'Remind me to keep all office supplies out of my bedroom?'
'What does that-'
But he interrupts my question with the raise of his hand, opening his palm and sprinkling various uneven patterns of different material to the floor.
'Have you checked-'
'My T-shirt drawer is fine.' He says jovially. I'm genuinely surprised he's feeling calm enough to smile at me. Pins in the bed. Underwear cut to shreds. I'd be pretty much freaked by now…
'Medical journals?' I'm sounding panicked.
'Downstairs, they're fine. Just the luxuries, it would seem. Fantastic.'
'Are you okay?' I ask wearily.
'Sure, would you like me to check in the washing for something for-'
'Nah, just turn around, that'll be fine.' I can't be dealing with effort right now, I just want to sleep.
'I'm really sorry?'
'Turn around Carlisle.'
He winces, smiles awkwardly and turns on his heel to babble various apologies while I quickly button up the rest of his shirt and hide beneath the sheets on his bed. Considering these are the best covers in the whole world and their very existence is enough to warm me, I'm surprised by the violent shudder that takes over me. This time, it's not excitement or nerves or utter desire- I'm genuinely cold.
'Can I look?'
'Yep.'
'Really?'
Guess I only have myself to blame for those insecurities.
'Yes Carlisle, I'm under the duvet.'
He laughs gently, makes a cautious turn and semi-relaxes when he sees how far I've nestled myself. I'm so tired, I can't imagine ever wanting to get up tomorrow-on the start of my ten-day holiday! Woo.
He takes his time looking around the room without really looking, checking out electrics and whatever before turning the light off and climbing next to me. On the sheets.
'Are you still wearing your jeans?'
He really is paranoid.
I feel him nod and then similarly shudder. 'Firstly, it seems most appropriate. Secondly, it's weirdly cold in here.'
'Can't fight with that logic.'
Perhaps he can hear the strain of effort it takes just for me to make a smart ass comment becuse I feel him turn to me and whisper:
'Sleep well, Hon.'
My eyes are closing before I want them to. I'm slipping off before I want to. I want to snuggle up to him, even if he's lying on the bed rather than in it. I just want to listen to him a bit more. But I'm drifting off. Too late now.
'Fuck.'
Shitting hell. I jump up in a fright and lean away from Carlisle's shaking frame.
'What? What's up- are you okay?!'
He pushes a hand out to me to slow my alarm but he's the one who'se just vaulted me out of a death-bed. I breathe wearily before leaning over to see where he's got his focus engaged.
'Eurgh, I went to turn the alarm clock off and she's thrown it through the window!'
I peer behind the headboard of the bed, where he's sat up, gripping his jaw shut but inevitably laughing. There's a small shattered pane of window glass littering the frame and the floor below. I can't see outside but I guess it's not worth it. It's fairly obvious that's where the missing clock has travelled to.
'I'm really-'
'Don't. Don't even apologise. You do and I think I'm going to go loopy.' He laughs again and throws his head down to the pillow beside me and sniffs.
'Are you okay?'
'I'm okay. Are you okay?'
Though I'm nodding and letting myself hide in the covers again, I'm struggling to lie to him.
'Bit shaken up. Admittedly…'
'Sorry. I can sleep downstairs if you'd like?'
'I think now more than ever I need you in here.' I confess, lying my face to the pillow and breathing out in the same rhythm as him. I hear him turn my way and then back again, unsure.
'In that case, I'm not going anywhere. I'll keep you-'
Outrageously, during one of our final moments of peace, when at last I can feel myself gradually sobering up and calming down. Then. At this precise moment. Under his security, within his proximity, around his warmth. In the moment of serenity and reconciliation.
This is when further grunts and groans and bedspring sounds emanate from the room next to this one.
'For fuck sake!'
But extending an arm back, I carefully take a gentle hold of his hand. If I can't snag a cuddle off him, which I don't exactly blame him for, the very least I'm going to do is hold him.
'Goodnight, Carlisle.'
I don't know what it is. Considering the moment my head touched the pillow, I was out. But now I'm awake. I'm awake and I don't know why I'm awake because my body and my brain are screaming for sleep and it's still dark outside.
Despite how cold it was, the room is warm now. Even a little stuffy maybe and though I was turned away from him, I decide turning towards where Carlisle is lying will give me a new comfort.
He's breathing heavily. So heavily in fact that I first think something's wrong. I peer up to stare at his back. He's sweating, soaked through his white t-shirt, the back of his hair wet and dripping sweat onto his pink neck. His body is tense, too and he keeps almost jittering. It sounds like he's holding his breath.
I'm legitimately really worried. To the point that I'm coming to wake him up when his hip juts so forcefully, he falls from the edge of the bed to the floor with a thump.
I don't know what it is that makes me do it. Instinct I guess, but I pretend to be asleep, letting my eyes stay closed and listening to see if he's okay.
He's panting, exhausted but also clearly awake as he makes a few aggravated groans to himself followed by a series of whispered curses. He throws his back against the bedside, leaning his head back, his eyes resting close as he tries to gather his breath.
'Es?'
I don't say anything, just continue to pretend to be far too involved in my act of unconsciousness to the world to hear him.
'Thank God.' He mutters and laughing gently he wipes the sweat of his forehead and sighs. 'Had to be tonight. Of course it had to happen tonight.'
Coming up closer, he rubs a hand along the cover where he was laying. Paranoid obviously, as he grossly becomes aware of just how warm he was.
I keep my eyes shut. I pretend not to know and then I hear him softly pad out the room, followed by the run of the shower. At something ridiculous like three in the morning. He takes a while in the shower- I don't want to think about why in case I get weirdly jealous and turned on again but I still listen out for him. After twenty minutes, I sit up, waiting, slumped against the headboard, eyes heavy when eventually I hear the door close.
'Shit. I'm sorry I didn't mean to wake you.'
'Are you okay?' I ask, yawning and trying hard to keep my eyes open.
He's stood in the middle of the room, a towel tied tightly around his waist, exposing that perfect 'V' and the other beauties of his body. Blonde doesn't stand out well in the dark so that here it could be anything from a golden orange to a grey but again, I'm tired. He's still cute though.
'Mm hmm.' He says, hiding his pink cheeks with his hand. 'It's unexpectedly warm, tonight. I was soaked through.'
'Mmm.' I muse tiredly.
'In sweat I mean!'
'Huh?'
'Huh?! Er? Nothing, sorry… yeah, sorry I didn't mean to wake you.'
He absent mindedly opens his underwear draw, puts a hand in and groans. That's wise. He's lucky he's just a hazy line in my vision or he'd be really embarrassed.
When I wake myself up again from the drop of my head to my chest, I find he's sat on the corner of the bed, still in a towel. He's glaring at something on the floor.
'Carlisle?'
'Hmm?'
'Just come to bed?' I plead sleepily. Even with both eyes closed I see him panic.
'Will do.'
He stands from his seat, turns to me nervously but believing that my eyes are closed carefully drops his towel.
I'm gutted. So fucking gutted. His ass is biteable, cute as hell and sexy but I can't see the main attraction. Actually that might be a good thing- I'm so tired right now that something like that sounds really unwise. He's still rustling about a bit, making a bit of fuss and noise when I cautiously open an eye again.
'Cullen.' This time he's got to know I'm no longer impressed.
'Mmm?' He turns over his shoulder to me embarrassed but I have both eyes closed for real this time.
'What the fuck are you doing?'
'…My boxers.'
'So?' I interrupt.
'Well, all my joggers are in the wash, still…'
'Carlisle?'
'Yes?' he asks sheepishly.
'Just get into bed.'
'But I-er. Well. It's just…'
'Sleep in the nude?' I answer, rolling over and taking the cover with me.
'What about if it gets cold?'
Are you kidding me right now? Just get into bed so I can fall asleep!
'Then get under the covers?' I answer, irritably.
'But-.'
'I'm not going to touch you. I'll be over here.'
'No offense intended-.'
'Please just lie down?!'
He stutters at first and then laughs nervously, peeking over to me once he lays down. For his sake. Literally just his, no one else's, especially not mine, I keep my eyes shut.
And what pisses me off more than the fact he disturbed my sleep, is how little him naked doesn't disturb it. I sleep peacefully, evenly and don't wake up again till late next morning.
Unfortunately comes sooner than I'd like. I'm so comfortable in my little cocoon of blankets, nestled tightly into the radiator I'm apparently laying on.
I hear the door slam open and a genuine gasp but I'm exhausted so I bury myself further into whatever I'm lying on, letting my hair hide my face as I squeeze myself to the silk touching against my skin.
The door closes again.
And I don't open my eyes till much later in the day towards afternoon.
My phone is going off. For reasons I don't want to know but Carlisle moves from around me to silence it. My gratitude extends my attention. I sigh again and cover my eyes with my arm.
In the blink of an eye, a warm hand is being held against my shoulder, shaking gently.
'Coffee is on the side, Hon.'
I whimper a little before pulling my heavy head from the pillow and groaning. I feel dizzy and weak and completely out of it. This room is spinning like mad.
'Hey, Sleeping Beauty.'
Oh Jesus I'm suffering from cotton mouth so badly that I'm going to die. I pull myself up properly and glare until my sight comes into focus. The coffee is stinging my nose. So is some other clean smell. Soap? Peppermint?
Thrusting out a hand to the table, a cup is gently placed in my grip and in silence, he patiently waits for me to take a gulp.
'Are you okay? Need any pills?'
'I'm fine, Carlisle.' I complain groggily and letting the liquid burn my tongue, I make a face of disgust.
The thought of coffee is making me feel sick. I don't want coffee, I don't want the thought of coffee. For nine days, I want the existential reminder that I am not working.
'And your head?'
'Fine.' I murmur, rubbing at my eyes.
He's sat on the edge of the bed on his side, dressed in a button down and jeans. Not the same jeans as last night, light blue ones that remind me of summer.
'No work?'
He shakes his head. 'Nope. Day off. Though I've got to go into town and see if I can get that window fixed.'
Nodding to the space behind my head, he smiles in annoyance. I'd forgotten about that.
'Oh. Yeah.'
'I wondered if you were going to Yoga. I'd be happy to give you a-'
'Wait, didn't she wreck your underwear, too?'
His light hair slips awkwardly into his eyes and he rubs an impatient hand through to push it aside.
'Yeah. I'm pleasantly surprised you remember.'
'An elephant never forgets.'
'Elephant?'
'It's a reference to my weight.'
He groans and turns his head away from me. 'Esme, you're fine. Maybe even underweight if anything, we've had this conversation.'
'Don't get whiny with me, Cullen. It's only a joke.'
'Not a funny one.'
I smirk a little and scratch at my hair line. Yoga would be good. It would wake me up for sure.
'Anyway, Alice and Jasper left early. She's been phoning since nine. Said she'll meet you at the hall. If you'd like to go.'
I have a feeling that last bit is his own addition. My eyes scan the room for the alarm clock and then I remember and roll my eyes. Thankfully Cullen has his watch on his wrist so I grab it and tilt my head to read the time.
'Aw, shit. I better get ready.'
'I'll be downstairs.' He answers, giving me even more space and crossing his floor with soft steps.
He had to wake up before me, didn't he? He just had to get dressed. Goddammit. Though even from here I can see he's not as comfortable as he'd like. Going commando in jeans will do that to you though. He scratches his jaw, nods to me and goes to close the door behind him.
'Hey Carlisle?'
When he opens the door, he's frowning curiously.
'What now?' He says playfully, leaning his weight on the door as he shyly watches my face. Without meaning to let it, I feel my grin take up my face and just in an effort to hide my lame smile, I put the coffee to my mouth.
'Didn't you promise to kiss me, today?'
He fights to hide his own smile before shrugging playfully and closing the door. I hear him lightly descend the steps with the sound of his light chuckling flowing up the stairs.