Sorry for the long break, I wish I had a proper excuse but time has just got away from me. I'm hoping these next few chapters do better in popularity though, haha.

Please enjoy!

'Do you think I have a problem?'

'What?'

'I said; do you think I have a problem?'

Edward stares at me for a few seconds, squinting painfully because of the sunlight in the living room. His eyes are purpled for the same reasons ours were. He's frowning his natural frown, his hair back to its bronze chaos with a grumpy smile to match it as he holds a cup of coffee under his nose. I'm not sure if Bella left last night or this morning but judging from the state Edward has allowed himself to be in as he forces the burn of coffee to awake him via nostrils, it's safe to assume she probably left last night.

'What do you mean?' He asks, airing a yawn and rubbing his temples in a circular motion.

'I had a whole bottle of wine last night.'

'Three.' He corrects.

'Three?!'

'Well, maybe two and a bit. Bella and I probably had a bottle.'

'How did I manage two bottles?' I mumble, squeezing myself into the corner of the sofa and rubbing back my thick locks.

'That's nothing compared to usual, Es. We're impressed you stayed off the spirits.'

I let myself numbly agree, hugging my knees to my chest as further guilt sinks in. Carlisle left early this morning and while I know nothing 'bad' happened, I'm also well aware I might've pissed him off about the drawing. And the drinking. And the getting naked and trying to seduce him. Though to be honest, I'm always performing that one.

'Do you think you have a problem?' He asks seriously, perched at his piano as if he might play it. We both know he won't, especially not this early in the morning when we're both looking like trash.

'I can't remember the last time I had a glass of something without it leading to me getting smashed.'

He grimaces, alluding to the very thing I haven't wanted to hear since I thought of it this morning. I'm still dressed in the Saint's hoodie, crushing it to my skin like I'm trying to commit it to my soul. Realistically, I should be getting dressed. I've got class soon and then the bar later tonight though I'm very aware that yet again, I'm skiving the job I've been dependent on for the last two years. The change of management really screwed me over. For my safety I hope Carlisle's right. I can't afford to be fined and I sure as hell can't afford a bad reference.

Not with another job to look for.

'Can you remember the last time you went without a drink?'

'Edward!' I squawk, astounded. 'Like, two days ago. There's no need to be an ass!'

'Alright...' He says, admitting defeat. 'But how long has it been since you went a whole week without drinking?'

'That's not fair! You know what Emmett and I used to be like!'

'Used to, huh?' He catches, smiling.

Naturally I groan at him, concealing a blush between my hands when I spot his challenging stare. He drinks his coffee with a slurp.

'You know what I meant.'

'Do I?' He jokes.

Instead I choose to ignore this and watching a few minutes tick by unconcerned I think to poor Carlisle with his fourteen hour shift. He started at eight this morning and he'll be more than lucky if he's out by ten. Edward's reading the headlines from the paper left on the side. Nothing important is catching his attention but it makes me wonder...

'Did you really mean what you said last night? About not going tomorrow?'

He looks up, making me wait by taking an extra-large gulp of the coffee though it's still too hot to drink.

'Honestly I just wanted to remind Carlisle what he's doing…'

'Do you really think he needs that extra bit of stress? We're meant to be supporting him Edward not shitting on him.'

'It was bad timing and foully worded, I understand and I take full responsibility.' He proves it by raising an, albeit arrogant, flat hand at me. 'However, he still naively believes he's going to go in there present you as nothing but a buddy and let it pass under the nose of his scrutiniser.'

'And what's the problem with that?' I contend, frustratingly.

'The way he looks at you, Esme. He's always worn his heart on his sleeve and now is no exception. He thinks he can just hide that.'

'How does he look at me?' I ask, watching the kid with such intensity that he quite literally shivers.

'The same way you look at him.'

'That's not an answer.'

'It is for the rest of us.' He mutters and sighing, he tries again. 'I know his intentions were good when he asked you to come with. I empathise. Truly. If I thought it was just a community thing I would be excited for you. But it's not.'

'I'm not letting him go alone. No way.'

'I know you won't.' He agrees, nodding his head. 'I just want you to remember the target isn't on your back. It's on his.'

'Well can't we fix it? There must be something we can do, Edward? Anything?'

'What? Ask the billionaire loony case to unhook the claws of his son and let him live a happy life?'

'Don't mock me.' I warn him, pointing a finger. 'It's not fair.'

'Sorry.'

Too right he's sorry. Though I quickly lighten up on account of his genuine guilt and similarly, my own.

'Just remember that Carlisle strives towards forgiveness. Even to a fault.'

'I know that.'

'Then you'll soon understand why he's going.' He says emphatically.

'To forgive.' I say obviously but Edward shakes his head.

'To ask for forgiveness.'

It's not unrealistic for me to be surprised at how well my lessons go. Yet it's naïve to think the thrill of it is going to last. As pointed out by a few of the lecturers when they comment upon my sudden enthusiasm with suspicion. The bar is both better and worse. I'm concerned for the conversation that is going to take place for Carlisle to say exactly what I fear he'll say.

'You're coming on too strong.'

'I think you need time.'

'I hate it when you drink.'

That last one will be the worst. It'll sting because it will remind me how troublesome one drink can be. It'll disregard the night that started it all… if I hadn't have been drunk there's no way I would've been brave enough for him to go down- 'Go down' isn't exactly the proper term. I don't want to hear the words. I don't want to see his disappointment or his disinterest, I don't want him to think less of me and I don't want to even think about how much I embarrassed him last night. For fuck sake, half the things I asked him there's no way in hell I'd even want. I'm not an ass person.

But I guess it's nicer to be drunk and asking those things than soberly wanting the same answer.

It's getting hard to focus, my head still hurting from it all when eventually it peaks nine o'clock and the owner's encourage me to go home early. Edward's sat at the kitchen table when I come home and even though I'm sure he's about to make some smart arse comment about me looking like tripe, he continues to write up his essay by hand.

All is awkwardly silent. Ten minutes of the scratching of pen to paper until I eventually take the seat next to him.

'I need to ask-'

'What do you want?' He sighs, though when I look concerned he turns to offer his typical crooked smile.

'A favour…' I finish, fiddling with one lock of my hair, eyeing the colour with obsession. He looks across, his green eyes made darker under the frown of his unkempt brows. I feel my chest tighten.

'I don't want to drink tomorrow…' I say quietly and I feel my gaze lower to my work trousers, voice shy and without the demand I'd intended to use. 'I need you to-'

'I'm not going to stop you from drinking, Esme?'

'But I need you to.' I insist. 'Look at what a mess I was last night-'

'Considering the state I have seen you in over the years I can promise you yesterday was nothing-'

'Edward.' I warn him, sighing. 'Please. I don't want to be this humiliating mess.'

'But you're not? You also have far more wil power than you think...'

'You're concerned, right?' I say fiercely, sitting up straight as I gather his attention. He groans childishly, forcing the hand, and pen, into the mess of his hair. 'You're worried for him. Well I am, too and like you said, I don't want to mess this up for him.'

'It's not you that's going to mess anything up. It's the figure of you.' He mutters, looking like he could just about roll his eyes to tie in with the belittling.

'I don't understand…'

'And I can't explain it to you.' He murmurs, exasperated. 'Really I'm trying but I can't. It's just what you represent. It's everything his father is against.'

'What do I represent?'

'I don't know, Esme.' He groans, throwing his hand to his eyes like I'm a child irritating him. It takes a few moments but he softens, his voice more gentle when he tries again. 'That's for you to discover.'

'Will you stop being so cryptic?!'

'It's not cryptic, it's obvious!'

The sound of the front door closing almost goes unnoticed by me but Edward turns his face towards the sound while I'm still focused in securing my ties.

'Please, Edward?'

'Fine.' He hisses, quickly. 'I won't let you drink.'

The relief the words give me settles through my body like a wave of cold water, surprising yet soothing under the heat in my cheeks but the blush darkens when Carlisle walks through the kitchen.

He's exhausted and almost stooping, his hands busy with a weak smile on his lips. He chucks his keys to the counter, the briefcase with it as he offers me a very large bunch of ten vibrant orange roses surrounding one pink flower with the stems thick and green. They're ultra-beautiful, unexpected and oddly coordinated. I can feel Edward rolling his eyes at us.

'What are these?' I say shyly, reluctant to step closer. He looks down at them, eyeing the stalks and smelling the burn of spring before shyly holding them out to me again. My blush begins to darken to the colour of the middle Peruvian lily.

'They're flowers?'

'Yes.' I say, smiling, avoiding the gorgeous blue of his eyes while I melt with gratitude. 'But what for?'

'A congratulations for your success, of course. We knew you could do it.'

'Well done, Skiver.' Edward grins, looking from the bunch back to the paper on the table. He continues writing as if we aren't there while I try my best to seem not so shy about the display of such pride. Such thoughtfulness into each chosen flower.

'Thank you both.' I say with a smile, eyeing Carlisle. 'They're beautiful.'

His colds hands touch mine when I take them from his grip to put in a vase, fussing over them to stop space for awkwardness. He couldn't be awkward if I wanted him to and taking the carton from the fridge he pours himself a pint of milk, drinking it slowly.

'How did you know I like flowers?' I ask, rearranging them carefully in the vase and cutting off the ends with a knife. He's intrigued by the act, fascinated in how my hands move without me watching or instructing them.

'I'd like to think after four years, I'd acquired some knowledge of you.'

Edward snorts.

'What are your favourites?'

'I am partial to Lilies.' He murmurs, fingering bit of the greenery and looking ready to jump into conversation. 'But roses are beautiful, too. Hence my indecision.'

Somehow the offer is made even sweeter knowing that he's given me all his favourites.

'Edward?' I ask, quickly throwing the attention from me as my Saint continues to stare. I can't help it, thinking how much he must want to say to me, how I embarrassed myself yet again- I really don't want to hear it. Even if the flowers are settling my heart, I don't deserve his grace.

'What?'

'Favourite flower?' Carlisle asks with a chuckle.

'What? I don't know? Nettles?'

'Flowers, Edward.'

'Freesias, then.' He dismisses, waving a hand. The pen scratches along paper, silence apart from that irritating nibbling until the Kid groans. 'Look, no offence but can you guys just go and eye-fuck somewhere else? I've got an essay to write…'

'Edward.' I complain, reproachfully.

'It's fine, Love. I'm tired. Think I'm going to have an early night.'

'Oh.' I say quietly. 'Okay…' When I said I didn't want to talk, I didn't mean literally. I take it back. He's only just got in, I haven't seen him all day. 'I'll be up in a minute?'

Edward groans again. 'When I said eye-fuck that wasn't an invitation…'

Carlisle grins as he murmurs his goodnights, heading up the stairs with a quiet murmur while I fiddle about with the flowers a little longer.

'Dude!' He complains, pouting to his paper.

'Alright, alright I'm going.'

The sound of his tut echoes behind me as I climb each of the carpeted steps. Like the wimp I am, I wait outside his door, peering in shyly with my hair in the way because I'm nervous for the relay of guilt that will spill forth from my mouth. Whistling softly to himself I just about hear him kick off his shoes, fiddle about with what I presume must be a book before a premature silence. The light is still on, his badge on the front of his desk with a few bits of paper work.

'Es?'

Shit.

'Hmm?'

'Are you not coming in?' He asks, his humour gentle. My guilt is swimming about me right now as I prepare myself for the worst. One foot behind the other, I shuffle into his room. The lighting is dim, his usual pine cologne strong in the air with his smart tie twisted around his hand.

'Hi,' he greets, playfully. It makes me blush for no real reason. 'You alright?'

'Yeah, you?' I find I'm nodding too much. Way too much. Someone stop me.

'Are you sure?'

'Carlisle, can we just get this over with?' I beg, hastily. It wipes the smile off his face. 'I can't stand here any longer thinking about what you're going to say.'

From his seat on the bed he turns and threads a hand through his hair, making a face at a rather sore ache I'm guessing. Did he always have to be this hot?! Since when was that fair?

'What am I going to say?' He asks, wearing a look of confusion.

'That I was out of order…'

'Why? What have you done?'

'Don't play the fool.' I tell him, weakly, a hand pulling at the neck of my shirt. 'Tell me off, already.'

The sound of his laughter isn't as comforting as I think he intends it to be. 'Why on Earth would I tell you off?'

'For… you know… drinking…'

'So?' He asks, very confused.

'I embarrassed you. I was fucking about and I was saying stupid things-'

'Esme, Love…' he holds out his hands, an eyebrow raised in an opposite curve to his smile. I hesitate before eventually letting my legs move in the automatic way they want to. 'I think perhaps I used the terms rather hastily and without warning last night. I was embarrassed. For a moment. I was concerned… again momentarily… and yet completely selfishly the entertainment you provided is immeasurable in wealth.'

'Entertainment?' I ask, face dropping.

'You proceeded to sing a few verses of 'I'm too sexy' in your sleep but you're mistaken if you think I am embarrassed about it.' He explains, his laughter light like a sweet musical note.

'I didn't mean for you to have to look after me, Carlisle.' I groan, hiding my face with my hands. 'I embarrassed myself.'

'Do you genuinely believe that?' He asks, almost sad.

'Yes?' I sigh. 'No… maybe. I don't know? I just know I went too far…'

'You think 'too far' is singing and parading after you literally asked me for an oral exam three weeks ago?'

Isn't perspective a wonderful thing?

'So…you're not mad?'

'Why would I be mad?' He questions, once again failing to see my point.

'Every time I drink, you shit yourself.' Perhaps rightly so but that's not the point. Finally the understanding takes place and he nods, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably.

'It's still a learning curve for me.' He admits, combing the ends of his hair. 'But you were perfectly safe and knew when you wanted to stop.'

Finally I feel my lip loosen its stiff hold, my frown disappearing and my head tilting up. He's really not… even slightly mad?

'You really believe that?' I ask, surprised.

'I trust you. You've survived the last twenty three years without my over-reacting…' He laughs at himself, stifling his yawn

'Trust me, huh?' I tease him.

'Is that really patronising?'

'A little bit…' I tell him, squeezing his hand back. He grins, taking the union and bringing to his lips softly to my knuckles. 'But it's okay because you're tired.'

'Unbelievably so.' He agrees. He lets his posture fall back behind him, his arm curling around my back as his other hand unbuttons his shirt.

'Here,' I say, lying on my side, too as I help unbutton it for him. He smirks, an eyebrow coming up as his gentle chuckle whispers in my ear.

'I must warn you, My Love, I barely have the energy…'

'Hmm?' I purr, wiping a thumb down his chest and feeling the vibrations of his chuckle tickle against it. 'Why don't you go brush your teeth, wash your face and I'll meet you in here?'

'Yes, M'am.'

Though still tired, he's up and out the door before I have chance to remind him to put his washing in the basket. I change into pyjamas, too. Mine this time with the shorts and the vest top and once he's finished, we swap rooms so that I can brush my teeth and tie up my hair. He looks even more tired in his underwear as he sits on the bed, rubbing at his neck and trying to catch the last of the news from the TV though the volume is on low and he's reading the subtitles.

'Anything interesting?' I ask, kissing the side of his temple when I budge up to his side. He's fidgeting uncomfortably, shaking his blonde hair.

'Just the usual.'

'Which is?'

'Misery and madmen.' He murmurs, clicking out his back and groaning when it causes a mixture of pain and relief.

'Carlisle?'

'Mmm?'

'Come here.' I grin, sitting behind him with my legs at his waist. He sounds like he might protest but he's too tired to force it so I strike while the iron is hot and help pull off his shirt. He does it in the way he always does and it makes my heart flutter when I'm given the space of his bare back.

He's too tired to make any assumptions and keeps his face on the news, avoiding a frown when he feels my hands slink over his shoulders. His skin is tight, cold to the touch but warms under my palms. My hands knead his skin, pinching along his shoulders up to the back of his neck and down again, letting the whines of pleasure fall from his lips. I feel his arms, loosening the muscles as I move along his spine, thumbing his back so that he groans and leans into my touch, exposing the side of his neck that I've already marked.

'Are you okay?' I ask, wrapping my legs around him and squeezing his technical love handles but his skin is reluctant to part from him. Which I love.

'Mmm.' He murmurs, leaning back into my hands, his eyes drooping closed but his smile sticks on his face. From above, I lean to kiss him, surprised when he kisses me back, however slow or playfully angled it is.

'Sure?' I tease, rubbing his shoulders so that he very nearly falls apart in my hands. His head leans back, accidentally heading my chest before realising and shifting down to lie back on my stomach. It means my legs can't wrap around his waist but they slink around his, my hands still running along those biceps so he's purring against me.

His hand goes gently to my knee, fingertips tracing as his eyes fight to stay open.

'Sleep, Hon.'

'But I want to hear about your day…'

'I didn't do anything.' I laugh, playfully.

'Just talk to me?'

'Talk at you.' I correct, teasing.

'Mmm.' He's adorable. It's impossible to appreciate him more.

'So I spent the majority of my whole day fearing the different ways you were going to call me an embarrassment…'

'Why?' He asks almost in a sing-song.

'Because I didn't want to disappoint you… and I strictly remember tearing off a towel and you dressing me in a hoodie. Which admittedly was super comfortable but it meant I shat myself when I woke up alone. Even though that wasn't your fault, I knew you were working. And saving lives. And ultimately being a good person while I was just sat doodling some naked guy in a lesson and that's not even mentioning the bar. Even though I wasn't doodling naked men there. Or women. Or anyone, I was just working which is surprisingly lucky considering it should've been super busy for a Friday night… Am I babbling?'

'I love it.' He says softly, grinning as those soft fingertips stroke against my skin. I have to keep reminding myself not to be turned on by him, he's too tired and I should let him rest. But his torso and his chest and arms and shoulders and back and his fucking face- all of it, it's gorgeous.

'I should be letting you sleep…'

He gently shakes his head but his eyes are firmly closed. 'Not at all, tell me about this naked man.'

'Naked man? Oh! That was just Olivia. Well, it obviously wasn't Olivia. Olivia is the lecturer I was on about-'

'With that kinda hot guy in your lecture?' He quotes surprisingly well. I'm super amazed. Particularly considering that was ages ago now.

'You… heard that?! I didn't realise you were listening...'

'My Love, even I wouldn't be jealous if you fell for the marvellous David.'

'I have a feeling I've got my hands on someone a lot hotter….' To suck up to him even more, I let my hand spread down his torso, selfishly biting my lip when he murmurs in appreciation. It's just a shame he's exhausted. Otherwise I could be rougher with my hands, I could knead, him, tease him, have him groaning...

'You're flattering me.'

'Good.' I say with pride. 'That's the way I like it.'

'You know I got told off today?' He whispers, fingertips sliding from around my knee down the back of it and up to the side of my thigh. It tickles and I shiver along his hands.

'Really?' I ask, frowning slightly while my hands continue to soften his flow into relaxation.

He's forgotten the television is on because he's barely raising an eyebrow to it. That and it's silent anyway with the same old things he reads about daily. Except he's not paying any attention to it.

'Mm hmm.' He angles his face to the side of the pillow, deliberately exposing the little line of bruises that I'm already so proud of. My hands move for me, dragging up his chest, along his collar bone, thumbing the little colours of flesh. 'My collar was undone and Maddison tried to discuss it with me but I blushed so deeply he couldn't get another word out.'

'Why?'

'Laughing too hard. He started crying soon after… and then didn't stop even when he collapsed…'

'I'm really sorry, Hon.' I say, despite his smile. 'I didn't mean to leave a mark.'

'I think you always manage to leave a mark…' He murmurs, playful and yet insanely overtired.

'My flowers are beautiful…' I thank him again.

'You're beautiful.'

'Carlisle?'

'Yes, My Love?'

God I hate myself as the following words slip from my mouth.

'You're tired.' I say, softly. 'You need to sleep…' My hands skim over his collar bone again, leaving him breathing heavily with a loopy grin on his face. He doesn't say anything else. In fact, he doesn't even open his eyes, his fingertips simply glide over my knee and next minute the heavy breathing slows, his grip relaxing. Simply watching him is enough to remind me how grateful I am and letting him sleep grants me the peace of mind I've been needing.

Waking in the morning is better. Not just because I'm leg locked around a hunk but because he's happy to let me sleep encompassing him as he reads his text book. He's still without a shirt which is beyond my expectations because it means I can grip him into arms and wind myself up into the greatest frenzy of my hands.

'Morning, Hon.'

This particular morning I've woken up in some ridiculously bad mood. Incredibly bad. Because I hear the sweet pet name from his lips, murmur appreciatively and pull myself towards his bare back, my leg stroking his.

'How'd you sleep?' I ask from behind, still sleepy as my hands rub over his shoulders.

'Amazingly well, you?'

'Mmm.'

My hands slip from over his shoulders down on his torso with the greatest amount of mischief I can let escape.

'That's not an answer?' He teases, blue eyes looking slightly over his shoulder to look at me. His chin is dark with a shadow again and it's driving me insane with desire.

'I think I need a shower to wake myself up…' I say, suggestively, letting the comment hang there when I ensure my leg is tight around his. He doesn't say anything but smirks.

'Well I have been studying for most of the morning…'

'Which means it's time for a break, right?' I ask, hopefully. His chuckle is sweet, his hand resting along my skin, delicately draping down and sending shivers into my bones.

'Did you want company?'

Oh my God… is he actually getting the hint?! He actually wants to shower with me?

'Yes.' I say enthusiastically. 'Give me three minutes and I'll see you in there.'

His chuckle is as soft as usual but he doesn't move when I jump from the sheets in the bed into the bathroom. I look a state and my breath reeks so I swallow my weight in mouthwash as I scrub out my mouth. Urgh…swallow… It's not too early, is it? For us, I mean? We've reached… that stage right? I want it. I want to have the taste of him on my tongue as I send him into bliss with just one movement.

I let the shower run too hot at first, trying to burn the insanity out of my nerves when the water pours over my skin, darkening my hair and making it straight under the jet. I do a quick once over of my body with a thin layer of soap, up around my tits, between my legs and wash it off straight after.

The soap suds are being washed from my hair when Carlisle knocks.

'Still okay for me to join?' He asks once I beckon him inside. He's standing by the edge of the tub, eyes looking hungrily at my nudity so I parade it out a little more, working my hands up in my hair to soak it through, biting my lips.

He gulps.

So I do what he's too stunted to do and move out of the water towards him. He doesn't move a whole lot except his eyes and sculptured torso in thick breathes.

'Will you get in here, we're killing a rainforest already!'

'Yes, Ma'am.'

My heart bridles a little at the new term of affection. Mistakenly, his hands first go to his chest to rip off that T-shirt he hasn't been wearing since yesterday and with half a laugh, he moves them to pull off his boxers. He's not even fully hard and he's successfully turning me on. So I communicate that with my mouth on his.

Despite being wet, my hand threads through his thick hair and barely giving a moment's adjustment, I secure an open mouth around his, shuddering when his impatient tongue works to make mine quiver under his.

Raising an eyebrow, he looks towards the water and stepping into the bath, he stands, lips on mine, softly pulling me with him closer to the source of relaxation.

Relaxation from water is nothing compared to his mouth on mine, leaning over me seductively with his pulsing cock thick against my stomach. It seems we're growing familiar with one another; he doesn't shy from holding me closer to where I need to be. Our tongues swim together a little more, my greedy breaths and whines becoming louder the more I taste the mint.

He tries to kiss me again but I quickly move to the intended purpose of showering, soaping his hips and his spine with my own fruit soap before cupping his ass and pulling him, his erection hard into my hip so close to where I crave it to be. He chuckles, rolling himself towards me, his tongue sweet, playful and hot while his fingertips hold my side. So I move on, I wash between his legs, around his legs, up his thigh until the only thing left to clean is his dick.

I look at him but he's laughing silently, watching me in amazement. Sure, he's aroused, heavenly so but perhaps not as desperately as me hence the shift of focus when I try and work him up to the same point of need that I am in. As needed, he cleans himself under the water without much of a suggestion.

But I seem to question that. He smiles at me, pulling me against him, again so that I'm almost under the water.

He starts at my coloured throat, pulling me towards him and kissing me enough to taste my moans from the vibrations. His warm hands scrub the suds into the back of my neck, massaging it as I press into him, away from the jet of water and into his skin.

Those hands travel, doing as I did except mine are now locked around his neck to attach myself even closer. He delicately wanders about my body as I pant for him, teasing and brushing over my nipples in his expert way while I shudder in need. He slowly slides the soap under my breasts, cleaning away his agonising touch as he washes around my stomach, my hips, washing around my back, having me beg for him to continue building up my excitement and never once letting his gaze fall anywhere but my face and his hands.

He asks permission with an eyebrow raise to wash over my backside and I almost forget about the repercussions of the act until a tiny yelp exits my mouth. Who thought something like his hands would make me feel so much better. Urgh.

'Are you okay?' He ask retracting his hands almost immediately but I pull him back, tasting the high when I kiss him, his silk tongue making me jump and shiver into him.

'Don't stop.' I ask, desperately. 'Please.'

He's conflicted whether to be concerned or amused but he goes for the latter and, gently, moves from my cheeks to soap both my legs and my back again, tenderly laying kisses where he thinks they're appropriate and they're appropriate everywhere.

I've thrown my head back to the wall, my breathing heavy, tearing the skin off my lip as I tighten my grip on whatever part I can have of him.

'Let me touch you.' I beg, my nipples hard into his body so that his breath slips into a chuckle along my lips. But he gently pulls away, his sweet hands slowing.

'Hon… I…I want you….' Urgh, fuck, I want him so badly, too. A grin breaks, as he looks shyly at me, those dark blue oceans made darker with lust. 'I wanna make you come.'

Fuck me. He wants to… The water drips continuously on my back, slipping along my skin the way his words do, making me hotter. The clean pine smell teasing my brain and my aching nipples…

'You really want me to feel good?' I ask. He nods eagerly, kissing my mouth quickly before watching me align myself against the wall and gently tugging him to stand behind me, chest on my shoulders, heart beating. His erection is still suggestively thick against my ass as I push against him, gasping.

'Tell me what to do?' He murmurs, kissing my ear, my neck, letting his left hand grope my left breast as I tremble for all kinds of friction. I want him to slip and press his cock deep inside of me, I want him to thrust against my body, to lose himself. I cry at his fingertips, filling his palm with my chest, holding his right hand near my other breast but that's not where I want him.

I'm desperate for heat, for movement, for any kind of satisfaction to the deep irritation of my longing. I guide his hand with mine, moving it down my torso against my skin until I get to my legs. His breath is hot in my ear, his dick harder as realisation takes over.

'Are you sure?' I ask, shuddering. He kisses my neck tenderly, gently nipping along the skin with the edge of his teeth and tongue in a manner he knows I live off. 'Keep your hand stiff but don't press too hard. Be gentle.'

I don't know why I tell him this, he'll know it anyway. My body, aching and nervous starts to shake in anticipation. I feel his chest sturdy against my back, his fingers pinching against my nipple as I part my legs open.

With a hand guiding his, I control his movements, making sure that it's me moving more than him. I take a hold of his middle finger and slowly press it to my moist slit.

The cries slip without warning from my lips, his own groans weak on my tongue. My left hand clings to the back of his neck as he lowers his mouth to mine, left hand still teasing while his finger still… pleases. Urgh, fuck. He feels so... good.

My hand encourages him to circle a little but the shudders of need that slip through me elicit further sounds of desperation. We both groan, me louder as he gleefully warns me to shhh, nuzzling my cheek affectionately. His hand, the thought of his hand is enough to make me wetter but with him actually touching me, being where I want him to be. I'm so hot for him and dripping with the desire to feel him everywhere. I need to be coming on his hand now.

The pad of his finger moves in circles against my swollen nub and while my right hand keeps him steady, my left goes straight to his wet hair to wrench him into kissing me again. His tongue licks along mine, yielding and giving with perfect resistance making me even hotter, even more stressed for his movements as his thick manhood digs suggestively against my spine. I whine again and he has to repeat my same warnings, asking me to quieten down and such and softening the warning with a caress of 'my love'. My nipple tightens under his tugging, my legs trembling with my knees threatening to cave.

'Faster,' I beg of him, trying to encourage his hand but he's painfully captured, his fingertips expertly making my skin flush.

Ugh, I need to come around him. I need his fingers deeper in me... I need his cock...

'Already?' He teases, laughing softly against my lips and burning them with patience.

'For three weeks I've been ready for this… Yes, already.'

Almost as a reward his fingertip presses harder, the circles leading me to an extensive high as he kisses the seduction into my lips. He chuckles, his thumb rubbing over my erect nipple as I whimper for him, desperate when his movements work me into heaven.

'I need to come….' I say it accidentally. The words slip onto his tongue in the same pleasing manner his digit fumbles on my release.

'What's that, My Love?' He didn't miss a word, he's just getting off on this as intensely as I am. I can feel it. The whole Goddamn length of him, hot and pulsing.

'Ple- Urgh, please. I need to come?' I'm whimpering, leaning up on my tiptoes, my body tensing around just one of those talented fingers, panting.

'Could you be more specific?' He teases, lips momentarily ghosting over the marks from the other day, sweet on my collarbone, warm and more blissful than the water.

'Make me come.' I beg him, pleasure building as he finds exactly where I need to be touched and …uses it for my ultimate relief. He's a quick learner, enough that I don't have to guide him, he knows what I want. 'Carlisle, I need you to make me come.'

'With pleasure…'

I'm so wet around him, rubbing myself on him when his touch moves further south. My moans become thicker, my hips desperate to thrust onto him but he's painfully patient. More eager moans slip out my mouth, my left hand tugging on his hair while my right goes limp above his wrist. Meanwhile only one of his hands is moving and while my aching nipple is thankful for it, my hot, slippery folds aren't.

'Es?' He whispers, asking my permission in the most glorious way but I'm melting around him enough that he should trust those instincts.

'Mm.' I utter, my jaw forcing my head into a nod but he clearly can't see it properly.

'Sure?' He asks huskily, poised so perfectly between two types of heaven. I'm throbbing, breathing heavily as I liquidate onto his hands. I nod eagerly, ensuring he can tell by my panting.

'I need you.' I groan, lips falling limp between his. His tongue reignites my energy, my core desperate when he gently slides to the source of my juices. He kisses my neck, sucking affectionately as I tremble about him. He inserts a finger into the depth of my tight cunt. I cry against him, whining and soaking him as he shivers against me. 'I'm so fucking close.'

Yes, yes already.

He expertly rubs his finger inside me again, copying my moans of pleasure as I tense for his friction. He delivers it with restriction, waiting till I'm throbbing in his hand before moving again but just when I think I can't take anymore. When I think I'm going to prematurely shatter against him, he presses his thumb to where his finger was previously. The joint movements of his fingers are too much.

I wail against him.

My hips tense under his, moans fall out of my mouth in the form of pleading and when he initiates the smallest circle with his thumb, the sensation rips a hold of me. It buries itself deep before taking speed and shuddering through me as I cry against his mouth and hand so that he leads me to its very end. His touch intensifies, his finger pumping as my walls clamp onto him, my grunts echoing in his ear as I rock onto him. He moans against my mouth, encouraging the depth of my vocalisations until I feel a similar hot throbbing against my back.

When his mouth drops mine, I'm so overwhelmed that all I can do is gasp breathily. He lays a kiss to my hair, my forehead, my cheek, my neck, so perfectly aware of the effect he has without being over-smug about it. The feeling is mutual.

My moans soften, my chest relaxing as I trust in his weight to support me. I'm flushed all over, my heart racing and my grip limp from his skin. He carefully pulls his finger out of me, holding it at bay as I try to kiss him lazily.

'You're beautiful…' He murmurs, kissing me again in a way that is making my heart pound just as hard.

'Let me return the favour, then.' I murmur, turning around to kiss him on the mouth, hard, heavy and blissful.

He falls comfortably back against the tiles so that I can taste his grin, the scent of the berry soap tantalising over our skin when his right hand moves to fold me in a tight hug, hard against his body. His other he keeps poised, my juices glistening down to his knuckles in a way that's making his tongue salivate over mine. It suddenly reminds me of the growing member against us and both my smile and mischief double as my hands roam his body.

They stop at his abdomen, eliciting a strong gasp as he angles his head back in relief. It takes me some time while I focus on committing the taste and the feel of his mouth moulding to mine in memory. Eventually his hand grasps at my hips and I take that as enough of a whimper to cup him in my hand.

He groans, breathlessly.

'I'm never going to tire of you making that sound…' I whisper, lips on his chest as I wrap my grip tighter around him and slowly pump him. The groans and whimpers get throatier, his frown deepening as he tries to stop from thrusting into my teasing hand.

I kiss his mouth, biting the edge of his lip and leading down again. His chest expands under my touch, my mouth kissing over my marks in his skin, easing their torture when they lower to his pecks. He gasps when I playfully lick his nipple, his left hand clenching at my side when my kisses lower to his chiselled abs. Nipping on his marbled skin, I continue to make him gasp and writhe with one hand along his glory.

'Can I?' He asks with a smirk, wiggling his middle finger.

'Can you what?' I tease, making a rhythm against him as his eyes darken, his jaw slipping open.

Seeing him being pleasured is unbelievable and I slink to rest on the balls of my feet to prove it. His attention is taken, he's unaware except for the ripples of pleasure as he throws his head back, panting. My lips drape down his muscles and stop when I reach the fine trail of hair from his naval to his dick. I eye the little scar on his hip, my thumb brushing over it as his hand weaves into the heavy locks of my wet hair. He's breathing heavily, his eyes squinted closed and so I slow my teasing of him, hold him by the base until I'm eye to eye with his arousal.

'Yes, you may taste me.'

He groans, bringing his finger to his lips and sucking off the remnants of me with a delicate moan. It's such a turn on, watching how he licks himself clean and how he thrives off it. He's unaware of my intentions, breaths getting harder as he tries to slow himself down but I can feel the veins of him throb as I make him wait. Luckily for him, I'm impatient.

He can barely answer, just lets his hand fall from his lip to cover my hand at the base of his cock. His finger and thumb wet with saliva as he encourages me to grip a tighter, trying to slow his breaths.

'Look at me, my love.'

He forces his eyes open, tilting his chin down when he sees where I'm positioned, I lick my lips, eye him wickedly and part my mouth. At the same time as his groaning and the tightening of his hand in my hair… there's a call for him downstairs.

I raise an eyebrow.

'Ignore it.' He begs, weakly. 'Please, just ignore it?'

I smirk, waiting a little longer and once I'm assured Edward has given up, I drag my closed fist to the head of his dick and then down again, pulling at the foreskin. He groans and while his attention is taken, I lick the bead of pre-cum from his tip with a hot and wet tongue. The sound of his sweet whimpers make me grin and while he's still squirming from around my hand I go to take him into my mouth.

'Carlisle!'

'Fuck-' He yells and I know just from the tone it's not a cry of pleasure. '-Off.'

'Hon?' I ask softly, fighting my grin as his hard-on beats to the same tune as my heart. He continues to whine, begging for a release so I lick his tip before gently sucking on it.

The sharp hiss out of his mouth softens into a grunt, his hand clenching while his other hand softens into my hair.

'Carlisle! It's urgent.'

I can't help it, I giggle again, loosening my grip as he struggles to concentrate. His desire starts to soften at Edward's constant calling. He groans again, not in the same manner and it makes me sigh.

'I'm sorry…'

'Don't be.' He murmurs, grinning awkwardly before eyeing both his dick and then my position around it with misery

'Carlisle!'

'Two minutes!' He replies, sharply but his sudden abruptness only makes me laugh harder.

'Is that really all it takes?' I tease, a fingertip touching his balls so that he leaps a little, breathing hard.

Rolling those beautiful blue eyes of his, he helps me up, kisses me deeply so that the suggestion of my taste bites my tongue and lets the water run over his skin for less than a moment.

'Carlisle!' Edward yells, exasperated. My Saint steadies his jaw, shaking his head as he takes a breath in, his desire settling down quicker than his sudden temper.

'Babe?'

'This isn't over.' He promises, kissing me sweetly and making me shiver in all kinds of appreciation once more. He climbs out the tub, watching me thoughtfully when he pats himself dry and wraps a towel around his waist.

'Dude! I've been calling you for-'

'One second, Edward!' He calls through the door, biting his tongue and shaking his floppy hair. I grab him back for a moment, trying to just kiss him once but he's so addicting, his grin so beautiful against mine that when he parts his lips I fall into him like his tongue is candy and I'm on a sugar rush.

There's a fierce knocking at the door.

'Urgh.'

'Go, Hon. Before he starts walking in on us on purpose.'

'This isn't on purpose?' He scoffs, shaking his head. I laugh harder, kissing him once more before shielding myself in the spray of water with my back turned. He slips through the door complaining.

'I've been calling you for ages...'

'I know.' I hear him mutter irritably.

'Dude, put some freaking pants on- I can see your boner!'

'I know!' He repeats followed by more complaints and murmurs before there's a slamming of a bedroom door followed by a glorious. 'For fuck sake, Edward!'

My grin widens and I wash through my hair several times, over my skin though it feels ultimately wrong to do so. It's like I'm washing his touch away which I don't want to, I want it searing along every inch of my skin like the feel of his mouth on mine.

Too right this isn't even over. I'm going to work him up into such a state-. Shit. It's Saturday?!

Fuck. I nearly forgot about that and we were having such a… well that's good, isn't it? That he's in a good mood? Or was at least. It means he's okay and if he's okay then I am too. But it also means another thing… I've got some actual shaving to do if I plan to be seen with him tonight.

This meaning I have to start early. So I condition my hair properly, scrub at my skin, wash over them both and dry off with the towel around my bust. Below my bedroom window it sounds like Carlisle's fussing with the car now so while he's outside, I put on the radio and get to work, heating up the wax to get started on ridding my body hair…properly.

It doesn't take long and it's relatively painless as I rip the hair out of my legs and underarms but it's as I'm parading in the mirror when I suddenly wonder what I'm meant to do with my pubic hair? I mean, I've never gone totally bald down there but seeing how magically trim Cullen is… it kinda makes me feel a bit unkempt.

What about if he wanted to return the favour...properly? Considering he enjoyed it so much. What if we actually end up having sex? My stomach involuntarily flips over, my lip caught between my teeth as I look over my figure several times. Fuck it, I decide. Bye, bye pubic hair.

Admittedly it feels somewhat weird spreading my legs in front of the mirror but it's the only way I can see what I'm doing. Between my palms, I warm up the wax strips, making it hot and gloopy before settling it with perfect precision around my vagina. I wait the required time, singing along to the radio before reaching down to rip the strip off quickly.

Fucking Almighty Jesus, fuck.

The burn. The burn?! My poor fucking vagina. This is agony, there is no greater agony, holy hell I'm dying, I'm actually dying.

'Shitting hell!' I groan, gasping at the spread of fire on both sides of my labia. I weakly eye the last strip, reluctant and unsure when I rip it from my skin in a quick flourish. My half scream is even louder this time, my eyes watering as the minor burn I was once complaining about engulfs into the spread of lava around me.

'Fuck.' I groan again, eying the results with uncertainty. I'm lucky. The pain is extensive but at least it did the trick. Shame it's fucking killing my poor insides from the outside.

With urgency I scan my beauty shelf, throwing around body lotions until I finally see the best one and soak my legs in it. I hesitate, looking at my downstairs but with a sigh, spread it on my sore areas.

Big mistake.

Big, big, big mistake.

'Fucking hell!'

Pacing around my room while holding back screams of agony isn't how I planned to spend my morning and after a few annoying and frustrating seconds of trying to wait it out, I realise this pain is never going to go away and so I tighten the towel around myself before running to the kitchen.

Luckily there's frozen vegetables in the freezer. Unluckily, Edward sense of timing is the fucking worst as he walks in on me clutching the bag to my downstairs while I jump about in pain.

'What the fuck is wrong with you?!' He hisses.

'Give me a bit of slack, I'm in pain!' Which I wouldn't be in if I'd been allowed to finish just one blow-job you sack of shit. I groan uncomfortably, holding the bag close to me while trying to soothe the burning. He looks absolutely horrified, his face turned up in disgust.

'So you're using our food?!'

'Fuck off, Edward, it's not like you even cook?!'

'Doesn't mean you have you rub yourself off on dinner though, does it?'

'If you're going to be a moron you can leave.' It doesn't embarrass me to say that the solution is actually working really, really well. The pain is almost all gone as the ice numbs the area effectively.

'It's barely the afternoon and I seriously need to bleach my eyes.' He says shaking his head in further disappointment. 'Fucking hell, I can't wait till I move out.'

I flip him off on my way upstairs, heading up and taking the damn veg with me because fuck it. I mess around in my room a little longer, moisturising my skin all over and even painting my toenails though there's no reason to. It goes so far that I find I'm brushing my teeth again but that's more on account on me accidentally drinking from an old cup of water that was left here from the beginning of the week.

'Es?' Carlisle calls sweetly from downstairs. I'm still not dressed, I'm still brushing my teeth but I'm eager to go answer. Perhaps on the hopes that Edward's been called away and he wants to finish us off in- 'Esme, could you come down, please?'

I'm still half jumping about because the radio has good music meaning I hastily skip a few steps on the way down and nearly plummet to my death but Carlisle steps from the kitchen, catching me just in time, an arm secure around my towelled body, his eyes brilliant alight in a favouring mischief.

'Hey,' I sing playfully. He's biting away a grin, his eyebrows frowning ever so slightly.

'Love… we have…err, company?'

'Huh?'

Timing seems to run through the Masen bloodline and with a crooked smile not alike the Kid's I take a weak look to the stranger in question and blush to my hair. Carlisle is perfectly skilled in controlling the situation however, and with a smirk, gently lowers me back to my feet and angles himself so that he's almost shielding my lack of clothes with his shirt and jeans.

'Es, this is Edward Senior. Sir, this is Esme Platt.'

'Ah-ha,' he grins, holding a hand out for me to shake. 'The infamous Miss Platt. We've heard all about you.'

The three of us echo the same sentence with varying tones of concern: 'You have?'

He frowns, our Edward's double in every manner as he does so and laughs loudly. It's not disturbing seeing Edward's future in front of my eyes, it's disturbing that Edward is standing next to Edward's future and it makes my brain hurt a little. Their hair is a different colour, senior's eyes a different colour and his build a little more stout but that could just be down to age rather than specifics. They have the same frown of the eyebrows, too.

It makes my head hurt.

'Change of plan, I'm afraid.' He announces, grimacing at me before waiting for Carlisle to explain. He does so, shaking a hand through his damp hair with a weak smile.

'We've been asked to head over earlier.'

'How much earlier?' I ask, looking down the towel again and briefly wondering if Mr Masen heard my earlier excursions. Oooops. Apparently this is an answer even my Saint is waiting for.

'Now, I'm afraid….'

'Wait, now?' Carlisle repeats, turning pale.

'There's still so much to do and you know Liz.' He shares a look with Edward which just reinforces how much of a mother's boy Edward is. He refuses to out her.

'Right, okay. Just let us get ready and we can drive over-' Carlisle starts to say, ever so polite as I watch his hands twist and untwist in his grip.

'That's no problem. I'll drive, that way you Kids can have a drink and enjoy yourselves.'

I catch the green eyes of the youngest from behind Mr Masen's shoulder. Carlisle is pushing the sleeves of his jumper up to his arms, looking for an excuse to keep his hands busy while he forces a calm that isn't there. He's unprepared and he doesn't like the feeling.

'The florist hasn't arrived, the lights still need to be done, the tables set, the band needs to rehearse… It's turning out to be more stressful than my wedding.'

I like Mr Masen, he's friendly and his laugh is that which just exudes the family man aura but I'm concerned for my sweetheart over here who looks like he wants to abandon every possible ties to the evening and lock himself in his room.

'But, what about-'

'Not fretting are you, My Boy? You know how many rooms there are. Bring everything with you so you can get changed without having to rush back.'

'But-' I've never heard Carlisle use so many prepositions. Mr Masen leans over, clapping a hand on his shoulder in a loud but ultimately assuring manner.

'He's not there just yet…'

The relief rushes through him and exhausted, he lets a slight smile confirm our attendance. 'Right.'

'So go get ready, gather your things and I'll meet you in the car.'

The three of us nod a little sparingly.

'Now, kids!' He cheers with a grin and at that we're all up the stairs.

This time, I wait for Carlisle till I make a decision on my own wellbeing. He's nervous, fitting everything he can lay his pale hands on into a suitcase that he thinks he'll need before offering to pack my toiletries as well.

'We're not staying are we?'

'No.' He answers, still jumping about his room and packing the cufflinks, his tie and the jewellery I plan to wear in the same place. He asks me to gather the box of my dress, my shoes and everything else I want to pack with his stuff.

'Are you okay?' I ask, carefully, an eyebrow raised.

'Mm.'

He's still rushing about, tearing his hands from around his scalp, disregarding of his tshirt down, grabbing his speech and another shirt, fussing around with more clothes.

'Carlisle?' I call charmingly, perched on the side of his bed with my feet bouncing.

'Mm?'

'Come here.'

'I need to get everything ready.' He dismisses, hands gathering anything he can grab and dropping it again. He's fiddling with his doctor's badge, hesitating before I tell him to pack it. Even when he stops for a second, I can see his hands shake ever so slightly.

'Babe?'

'What?' He answers, tiredly sharply but the moment it comes out of his mouth he shudders and steps towards me. 'I didn't mean…'

With a gentle pull on his t-shirt I kiss him gently and reservedly on the lips, pleased when it helps him to ease around me.

'I'm so sorry…'

'You're going to be fine.' I remind him, taking his hand and kissing the knuckles.

'I haven't seen him in two years… I've only just come around to answering his calls… I shouldn't be going.'

'You know why you're going.' I say, sternly. 'Selflessly. For the good of the hospital.'

'You're right…' He sighs but it doesn't do anything to help him seem braver.

He's still trying to pace around me, hands fiddling, up in his hair, at his neck… While he's got my make-up bag to hand I make him sit down and try my best to cover up the aging marks on his neck. It's not noticeable anyway, those tiny marks but if he's fretting now I don't want him going overboard later.

'Why has it been two years?'

'Hmm?' He says softly, letting me pad at him from in his lap. I think he likes it when I'm in his arms because his hands go to securing me, giving them a purpose to keep them busy.

'Why did you draw the line two years ago? Why not before when he was endorsing… stupid things…'

'Oh… well, three years ago he followed me to this town and outbid me on a few things. Two years ago he hired Chelsea as his secretary and shortly after… he invited me to their wedding.'

'What!' He's telling me this now?! Now?! But he sees my disgust and waves a hand up my back.

'They didn't go through with it, don't worry.' He diffuses with a tense smile. 'But she still comes over a lot from what I hear… He also signed a deal with Aro which pissed me off…And he was rude to the Masen's... And gave my contact details to Marcus... It was just a lot of little things, really…'

'Are they going to be there, tonight?' I ask quietly wishing he would just shake his head but he doesn't, he stumbles.

'I...hope not. But I don't know.'

...What the fuck am I meant to say to that?

'Are you okay?' I ask him for the fifth time. The expelling of information is doing good to settle him down and he nods thoughtfully, hair slipping. 'We can leave anytime you like. If you need an excuse let me know, I've got thousands, okay?'

'Okay.' He murmurs with a weak grin.

He grabs a large grey hoodie, plain to the eye so that it covers his simple Tee. I raise an eyebrow, surprised by the change in style.

'He hates sportswear.'

'So you're gunna dress in sweats and trainers, too?' I ask, biting back a laugh.

'Trainers; yes. I hadn't thought of tracksuits, do you think I should?'

'Are you asking for trouble?!' I say, unable to hide the laugh but smiling he gives a simple shrug.

'Like Edward said, I'm going to get it anyway. I might as well sprinkle some light onto the situation.'

'Oh Hon…' It's hard to dissuade him when he's made his mind up so determinedly so kissing him, I tell him I'll be down in five.

As he's descending the stairs I find the jumper on his back has silhouettes of the evolutionary man stamped across it and I quite literally fall about laughing.

For me, dressing is less spectacular and choosing an everyday off the shoulder T-shirt with three quarter length jeans gives me the excuse to revel in something Carlisle has so lovingly forgotten. Its hot today, he's going to overheat. Meanwhile Edward is dressed similarly to his father and what Carlisle would usually wear with a button down and jeans but he's got a t-shirt underneath on account of the sunshine.

'Is he okay?' He murmurs to me, nodding towards the front room.

'Bit wacko but eh.' I confess, finding relief in his usual crooked smile.

'Wacko's good.' He reassures with a smile which would otherwise suggest different. 'Wacko is very good. We like wacko.'

'Have you seen what he's wearing?' I ask, muffling a slightly frightened giggle but Edward raises an awkward eyebrow and shakes his head.

It's not until the boys wedge themselves in the car that Edward sees the jumper, one I'm informed that he actually purchased, and I'm relieved to find he's not on the irritable side. He laughs so hard he nearly causes his father to crash and even with the constant reminder of Mr Masen telling him to quit it, he laughs harder and harder and harder.

'It's not that funny, Son.' Senior says, looking back in the rear view mirror at the two of them but I'm slowly getting acquainted to the feel of a rather petulant and juvenile side to Carlisle and I hate to say I'm loving it.

'Not that funny?! Are you joking?!'

'It's fine, Sir. I promise this isn't a final choice.'

Senior makes some tart comment about attending his funeral but even I'm struggling to withhold my giggles. I'm not even sat with them and I'm having as much fun. Which comes the point of concern, regardless how much Edward was fretting over Carlisle and vice versa, he wasn't about to let him suffer needlessly.

'Either way,' Edward blurts through a series of sniggers, 'Very good choice.'