Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
"Did you actually want to talk or were you just making an excuse to hide from Esme?" I tease him.
"A bit of both," he says with a chuckle. His face grows pensive after a moment.
"She was very concerned with your well-being. Edward's too. You've become her children in a sense."
"She's very nurturing," I acknowledge.
"Would you like to hear her story?"
"Would she mind?"
"Definitely not. She told me to feed your curiosity."
"Can't go against her wishes, can we?" He laughs again before sighing and looking out over the yard in front of us. I can almost see the weight of words he's going to say. His eyes are slightly unfocused and limbs hang heavy. If the railing wasn't there to support him, he'd be slumped over like an old man. Which I guess he is chronologically, just not physically.
My laptop died and my motivation was long gone when it was charged again. The struggle of being a procrastinator.