For All Of My Life

by SelfishSalvatore

Many adventures await Carlisle Cullen and his mate, Annabelle Steele, a girl not vampire, but not quite human. When they meet many years ago, they had no knowledge of the future they held as friends and family came into their lives, and that enemies that wanted to tear them apart would threaten their very existence together. [Carlisle/OC]

3. Run and Hide

Chapter Info

Title: Run and Hide

Number: 3/?

Warnings: Angst, language

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I would love to hear your reviews, thoughts, comments, and questions about this story!

Goldielover: Her parents will definitely be an issue! You should find out the answer to that in this chapter. :) I think he'll want to tell her about the Volturi sooner rather than later, but honestly her parents probably won't find out because it's not really of relevance at this point. I know everything seems fast—especially considering SCAF where it's an incredibly slow burn—but honestly I want to focus more on the future than the past so there won't be a whole lot of chapter set in the past, roughly five if my plans go as I have them now. And considering she's an Immortal who can live with him forever without turning, there's not a whole lot holding them back other than her family. But again, this chapter should answer that. Thanks so much for reading and commenting! And also thanks for the tip, I honestly didn't know that, which might be the answer to some of my other stories as well, lol. But I'll keep that in mind for future updates!

animexchick: That's awesome that I hooked you! I was honestly the same way with Carlisle/OC stories and my other ship of his, Carlisle/Bella. But the fanfiction changed my mind. I'm really glad you like them! Thank you for reading and commenting!

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-Annabelle-

The kiss didn't last for nearly as long as Annabelle would've liked it to, but she figured they had eternity, so she couldn't really complain much. However, it was good he pulled away, leaving her alone on the bed, but a moment later she heard the heavy thud of her father's boots against the second floor hallway and understood why he pulled away. That didn't mean she enjoyed it, watching him compose himself as he stood silently and respectfully next to the chair by her bed. Since her room was the first door on the left at the top of the stairs, Henry knocked on the door just seconds later, and Annabelle knew he would've had a fit if she saw them in such a position. Not that she didn't think Carlisle would be hurt, but that didn't mean she wanted her soulmate and her father fighting. As much as they disagreed, she loved her father and would be heartbroken if something happened to him.

She swallowed thickly and quickly pulled the sheet up nearly to her chin, making herself look as pitiful as she felt the past week, seeing Carlisle fight a smile out of the corner of her eye which made her want to smile as well. But she held it back as she shifted and let out a breath before calling out to her father behind the closed door.

"Come in," she said, making her voice weak like it had been, and immediately the door swung open to reveal Henry standing there. He looked more than a bit startled, looking between Carlisle and Annabelle as if they were playing a practical joke on him or something.

"Anna," he breathed, ignoring Carlisle completely—not that Annabelle was really expecting anything different—and quickly tugged the chair closer to sit beside her, taking her hand in his. His skin was actually startlingly warm compared to Carlisle's, but of course she didn't react or say anything about it. She knew her father knew what he was, but she was grateful he didn't say anything about it. Perhaps he was truly that desperate; it was true, she had never quite seen Henry Steele like that before, almost vulnerable. He looked raw and exposed, not hiding his emotions from her for the first time in her life as he looked her over carefully. "I cannot believe it... You are alright?"

Annabelle nodded and slowly moved the sheets away from her face. "I am, Father. Dr. Cullen helped me a lot." Over her father's head, she caught his loving smile and had to fight hers away as Henry's eyes narrowed just a bit, but not enough that she thought he wanted her to notice. It was then, when she mentioned Carlisle, that he tensed, as if he had forgotten for a moment that Carlisle was there. He gazed at Annabelle for a moment longer before he stood and turned to the man waiting patiently by the door. For a moment she thought Henry was going to ask him to leave, but luckily he didn't. Instead he surprised them both by holding out a bag full of coins to Carlisle, who hesitated and spared a glance over Henry's shoulder to Annabelle, who nodded mutely. If he declined, her father would become frustrated by his wounded pride, and also suspicious that a doctor would forgo payment.

With a sigh only Annabelle could see, he gave Henry a nod of thanks and took the bag from the man's grasp.

"You saved my daughter, Dr. Cullen. I owe you much more than that for her life, along with my gratitude. So I thank you." And then he surprised them yet again by holding his hand out to shake. From the way he spoke, he hated vampires. From the stiffness of his body, Annabelle knew that was still true, but his worry for her and his gentleman upbringing and southern hospitality didn't allow him to kick Carlisle out the door when he did something so kind for them. But that didn't stop him from tensing even more when Carlisle obliged and shook his hand, nodding his head in a respectful bow and pretending that he didn't know about the family's secret, or that he saw how his presence made Henry more than a bit uncomfortable.

"It was my pleasure, Mr. Steele. I am glad I could help out Annabelle. She seems like a bright young woman."

"Indeed," Henry said simply, finally turning back to his daughter, and she saw his posture relax in the slightest. She smiled up into his identical cerulean eyes and slowly shifted so she could sit up against the pillows that had been shoved back against the headboard. Henry sat again and took her hand. "I am so very happy to see you well again, daughter." He paused and glanced over his shoulder at Carlisle. "That will be all, Dr. Cullen. If we have anymore concerns, I shall send Timmy back to fetch you."

It was Annabelle and Carlisle who tensed then, knowing this parting was inevitable, and yet they had both resisted thinking of it. Annabelle couldn't bear it, watching her soulmate walk away from her, not when she just discovered the truth behind what all of this meant. She gulped ever so slightly, not enough to alert her father, but Carlisle did see it, she could see by the melancholy expression that his polite smile barely masked to Henry.

"Of course, Mr. Steele." He looked to Annabelle. "Miss Steele." He bowed and reached down next to the bedside table to pick up the bag he hadn't needed to use once. "Farewell and goodnight," he said.

"Goodnight, Dr. Cullen," Annabelle whispered. He shot the father and daughter duo one last look, his entire body looking as if it were fighting against his actions as he turned and headed out the door, clicking it shut softly behind him. Annabelle let out a breath and ignored the way her hands trembled once he left, the distance already too much to bear and she loathed it. She wanted to jump up and run after him, but she didn't, partially because of her father's reaction and partially because she still wasn't completely well and wasn't sure her legs could hold her weight right then. However, Henry misinterpreted the shaking of her hands as something else, because he frowned and moved to sit next to her on the bed, putting an arm around her small shoulders.

"Anna, please do not be frightened," he whispered. "I know you understand what that man is. I told you how vampires appeared three years ago, and I see you still remember. But do not be afraid, I do not believe he knows what we are. He must be younger than the sixth century. So he is no danger to us. And do not worry, you do not have to see him again. This sickness was a fluke, but as an Immortal, you will be able to overcome anything. So there is no need to see that man again." His words were both a comfort and a warning to her. He didn't understand what passed between them, but her father made it clear: do not go calling on Dr. Cullen, or she would have some serious trouble on her hands.

The smile she gave him was pressed, even as she cuddled into her father's side, the action making his hard exterior melt. "Of course not, Father," she lied. "I will not see that man again."

.x.x.x.x.

But of course, Annabelle didn't listen to him. The next couple days were spent in bed on her mother's insistence, and it was pure agony. While her sickness went away, the cold hollow ache in her chest grew and grew until she couldn't breathe without gasping, until all she could hear was the furious pounding of her own heart. Luckily for her, neither of her parents noticed this change, so when the sun shown on the third day of her wellness, they permitted her to leave her room to move about the village as she normally would've. To celebrate her freedom, she had her mother help with a quick bath in their small metal tub set up in the back room behind the kitchen, making sure to scrub every inch of her body clean and fresh, before she pulled on her freshly washed dress—the same one she wore when they first met, and her favorite one at that with the single layer of gray-colored skirts, and the white bodice with a nice pattern sewn into it. She tied her gray beaded sash around her waist, the gray being the same color as her skirt, and settled her hair around her shoulders with a simple headband of flowers in the raven depths.

"Do you have special plans or something?" Gwendolyn teased from her spot int he kitchen kneading out some freshly made bread dough that would be baked in the brick wood oven her father had built next to the hearth.

Annabelle glanced away as she grabbed one of the fresh apples laid in the bowl on the table, new from the market that her father had picked up the day before. She didn't want her mother to see her blush as she shook her head, leaning down long enough to slide on her simple black shoes.

"No, however I am pleased to finally be able to leave the house. It has been almost ten days since I have breathed in fresh air. It is starting to get stuffy in here."

Gwendolyn laughed. "You are such an adventurous spirit," she said fondly. Her father had often said that before, but his tone was always scathing. He wanted her to stay put and listen to his orders, while Gwendolyn always said she wanted more for her daughter and she should experience the world.

Of course, Henry was born in a time that every single day had to be feared, but Gwendolyn was born after everything happened so she didn't know battle like Henry did. Gwendolyn's grandparents—Samuel and Enid—were killed by the Volturi, and her father, Michael, was around the same age as Henry when they escaped Poland and made it to England soon after. Michael's oldest brother, William, was sixteen and he took over care for Michael, their sisters Hannah and Gertrude, and their other brother, Paul. Gwendolyn was born around 1450 and she met Henry aboard the Mayflower when they both posed as Puritans making their way to the New World. From there they realized their love for each other and broke away from the others in the night, running down the coast of the Colonies until they wound up in what eventually became Roanoke Colony. However, they had left the island before the disappearance of the other one hundred and sixteen citizens so even they didn't know what happened to them.

It amazed Annabelle the type of history surrounding her on a day-to-day basis with her parents, and now she would be able to add Carlisle to the mix. She desperately wanted to hear his story, so she quickly finished her fruit and bid her mother goodbye. Luckily Henry was downtown at the village hall speaking with the magistrate about something, so she didn't have to give him too many excuses. And even luckier for her, Carlisle's office—which she managed to bargain out of Timmy Smith for a couple biscuits and some coins—was in the opposite direction, so she had no danger of him finding out what she was up to.

It took everything in her not to skip over to Carlisle's office, but she figured that would bring about looks and gossip that she just didn't need, especially because it was sure to get back to at least her mother. Her mother had a sewing circle with Betty Lane, the town gossip, a woman who always found out about everything that sometimes you didn't even know about yourself. Her house was, of course, right on the market so it faced all of the action, so Annabelle took a slightly longer way to Heath Row. It was a small street filled up mostly with business like Carlisle's office—which she remembered was once Flannigan's Butcher Shop—along with a tailer, a baker, and a barber shop. She passed the other buildings quickly and stopped outside of the door that now read Dr. Carlisle Cullen with a picture of a mortar and pestle above it.

Annabelle smiled, feeling the excitement growing within her as her entire body eased. It was a bit of a surprise to her, but then again, so was the sickness and the was a whole lot worse of a feeling than the growing hollow ache in her chest. She understood that it was her body basically shutting down from lack of accepting her soulmate. It was still a rather foreign concept, but she supposed it was just a vampire thing. She would have to speak to Carlisle more about it.

Taking a deep breath, she lifted her shaky hand to rap upon the door. While she wanted to just barge in, that would be incredibly rude, even considering their bond they had. She wished she had vampiric hearing so she could know if he was even home, but alas she had to wait until he got closer to the door. While her hearing was better than a human's, it still wasn't up to par in the slightest with a vampire. But it seemed that didn't matter, because only a couple moments after she knocked, her heart began to race in a completely different way, her entire body straightening up in posture, the breath in her lungs coming out in one slow sound. She took a moment to quickly make sure her dress was straight and her hair fell perfectly, the headband fixed in the best way. The dagger was cool against her thigh, making her heated skin break out in goosebumps, her weight shifting from one foot to the other.

It is normal to be nervous, she told herself. Carlisle is my soulmate. It is not very often you meet the other half of your soul and call upon him unannounced. But I have to remain calm because I do not want to scare him off before we even get a chance at forever.

Her thoughts did nothing to help because she could simply feel it as he moved from the other side of the building and closer to the door, pausing ever so slightly just inside, before pulling it open so nothing stood between them.

The somersaults in her heart didn't stop, in fact they picked up as she stared into his beautiful, charming, yet slightly surprised face. She had a pretty good feeling that he could feel her there as well, but it wasn't as if this meeting was planned. For a moment they just studied each other before slowly he smiled and held out a hand to her, bringing hers up to his lips once she set it against his palm, and as usual kissed the top of it. It made her think of their other kiss, their first kiss, her first kiss. Of course it should be her soulmate that she gave that to. It would be Carlisle that she gave everything to, no matter what her father or mother or anyone else said. The thought made her blush, and her reaction gave him a curious look, but he didn't ask as he gently guided her inside.

The front room was set up for his practice. The front wall had once been all glass, but he had set up wooden panels along them to keep out prying eyes. The exam table sat in the middle, his tools sat neat and clean on a table against the opposite wall. There were framed drawings of anatomy behind the table, and against the back had shelves of medicine. There was a curtain that hung in the doorway leading to the rest of the building, which she knew would most likely have a surgical room at the back for more intense procedures, and then his private quarters were above that.

Annabelle smiled as she looked around, finally raising her speculative cerulean glance to the vampire who was studying her curiously, waiting for her response.

"Well, you certainly made the old 'butcher shop' title unrecognizable," she joked, delighted when she earned a deep, hearty laugh from him. She smiled wider. "It looks lovely in here, Carlisle. Did you do all this yourself?"

He nodded, locking his arms behind his back as he looked over his handy work proudly. "Other than having George Hamilton cut the wood to the right size for the windows, I did it all myself." He paused. "I would say things were heavier than they seem, but that would be a lie." She giggled at him, and his whole face lit up in a smile. He took a step closer to her, his hand lifting and her breath catching as he laid it over her cheek. That gaze of love and adoration colored his face again, making her nearly melt against him as he glanced over her features. "That is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard," he sighed reverently. "I wish to hear that every day for the rest of our lives."

Her eyes went wide, her breath stuttering to a stop, the words completely unexpected. But oh so completely welcomed. For a moment his smile faded just a tad as if expecting her to back away. It was a humbling thought, "the rest of our lives," which if all went according to plan, would be an extremely long time. Not that she minded. She was already facing an eternity, but to know that she started out her soon-to-be long life with her soulmate...she was the luckiest girl in the world. However, she felt a bit sad that Carlisle had to wait—exactly how long, she didn't know yet, but she didn't like to think of it even being as short as a month let alone as long as she feared—and would vow to spend their eternity making it up to her.

Finally she let herself process the words and she took another small step to him, watching as he allowed his eyes to widen, and she stood up on her toes so she was closer to his tall frame, yet still so much shorter than him.

"As long as 'the rest of our lives' means forever, then I can promise you shall hear it every day."

The surprise on his face was beautiful, but it was even more beautiful the way he whispered, "Annabelle," as if he were speaking the true name of God. She smiled lovingly and, for once in her life, decided to be bold. She leaned up even closer and, before he could grasp her meaning, she pressed her lips against his. She felt him tense ever so slightly, but then he hummed, almost a soft moan, into her mouth and took his hand from hers to wrap both arms around her body, nearly tugging her off her feet as he kissed her deeper. The feeling was so new and so surprising, but so utterly exquisite, and she knew she would never get over feeling like this. While she knew it would never been brand new forever, part of her felt like it would be. Every day was a new day with new experiences; why shouldn't their relationship be the same way?

Do we have a relationship? Is this considering courting me? Or is this too improper? Yet, even if the answer to the last one was yes, she couldn't bring herself to care. She wanted him, in every way she could have him, in every way he would let her. And she had a deep feeling that she wouldn't have to beg him too hard for that to come true.

Once she ran out of oxygen, the one thing she needed even as an Immortal, she broke away from him, though his arms stayed locked around her waist and she was all too happy just to cuddle into him, her face pressed into his throat. He smells heavenly, she thought almost dreamily, being none-too-conspicuous about what she was doing. She started a trail from behind his ear and down to the base of his throat. It was a cool smell, almost minty. But it was fresh and clean, the smell of rain and crisp grass filled with beautiful wildflowers. Henry had told her that vampires smelled differently than humans did, not that she went up to a lot of humans and sniffed them. And he also told her that Immortals had a rather pungent odor to vampires, which is why they were happy to agree not to feed on them as most couldn't get passed that smell to get close enough. So either Carlisle was holding his breath around her—which, admittedly, made her a bit self-conscious—or she smelled differently to him than other Immortals did.

Curious, and unable to help stop it, she pulled back some and was surprised to see his eyes closed and a content look upon his face. Once he felt her move, though, his eyes flickered open and she was surprised again to see the topaz had darkened into a caramel, but as soon as he saw her looking, it changed back to the ochre she was used to. Of course she knew that vampires' eyes turned black when hungry; is that what was happening? Was he hungry? Was she too close?

Biting her lip, she studied him for a moment, and he raised a hand to run through her dark hair.

"What is going on in this beautiful mind of yours?" he murmured, making her flush, and the action caused him to smile.

"I was just thinking of something my father told me," she said. "About when the Immortals and the Romanian vampires agreed to their truce. He said that vampires were repulsed by us because we have an...an odor to us that humans do not have. Our blood is much stronger than a human's and would make a vampire that much stronger—one Immortal would equal roughly twenty humans—but most could not get around the odor to our blood." She paused as she tried to understand what he was thinking as his face changed, from curious to understanding. "Are you holding your breath because I stink to you?"

Carlisle let out the breath she had mentioned and slowly he shook his head. "No," he murmured nearly immediately after. "Annabelle, you do not have an odor. Not to me. Your mother and father...yes, I noticed it. Honestly, you do smell different than humans, but not in a bad way. It made me curious when I first met you, but I realize it was the mating call that I was smelling. I can tell the difference between you, your parents, and a human from a mile away." He paused and smiled again. "I could smell you coming from the end of the street. I was hoping you would stop by and that you were not simply on an errand for your mother." Annabelle bit her lip and stifled a giggle. Carlisle reached up and gently tugged her lip from between her teeth, shaking his head. "Please, I beg of you, sweetheart. Do not deprive me of those wonderful sounds." Another flush, another non-restrained giggle, and he smiled again as if it were the first time she did it. "Beautiful." A chaste kiss to her lips.

"I have so many questions," she murmured, her fingers running down from where they wrapped around his neck to his biceps where she clung to them.

"Then let us go upstairs. We can get some tea and I can answer all of your questions."

She smiled knowingly. "That really is a British thing then, is it not? The tea."

He raised his eyebrows, surprised, even as he smirked. "Is it that obvious? I thought I was doing well at integrating myself to the Colonial accent."

She nodded. "Oh you are. If I were anyone else, I would not have noticed. But since you are my soulmate, I notice everything about you. There are some words that still have a hint of the British accent to them. However, you do a wonderful job at the Colonial accent. Must be a vampire thing, being able to pick it up so quickly."

He looked very pleased at her words as he held out his hand and she eagerly took it. Gently he guided her through the exam room, passed the curtained-off hallway and the door at the end labeled Operating Room No Admittance, and finally up the narrow staircase to the rest of the building where he lived. "You notice everything, do you?" he wondered.

She nodded quickly, even though he couldn't see it, thanking him as he helped her through the open doorway at the top and gently shut it behind her. She paused a moment to take in his humble living quarters. It was just the top floor of the building, but for one man, she supposed he didn't need more. The kitchen was free of anything except for a tea kettle that rested on the stove. She remembered her father saying they didn't need to eat regular food, so she figured the kettle was for visitors if they ever stopped by. There was a simple sofa underneath the large picture window at the front of the building. Against the west wall was floor to ceiling bookshelves stacked high with nearly every book imaginable. There were so many that they were stacked double on each shelf, and still not all of them fit as some of them sat on the floor and the side tables by the sofa. There were a few paintings hanging on the opposite wall, ones she reminded herself to look at once she had the chance. There was a short hallway opposite the couch and she figured that took you to the bedrooms, however Henry also told her that vampires didn't need to sleep so she doubted he used it for what it was intended for.

"It is not much," he was saying, watching her look around.

She grinned and looked back, shaking her head causing a fluttering of raven strands of hair to float around her. "It is lovely," she said honestly, taking a step closer to the bookshelves. "You have more here than the village library."

"You are welcome to read anything you would like," he told her, stepping up behind her and putting his hands on her shoulders. "After all, as you said, we are soulmates. That makes everything here half yours."

Her eyes widened and she looked up at him. "But I did not earn it," she protested.

He was already shaking his head as soon as she said "but." "I do not care. You are my mate, Annabelle. I will take care of you for eternity. I will protect you and guide you, and I will give you everything you have ever dreamed of."

"You already have," she said quietly and his eyes grew soft. Gently she reached for his hand and tugged him over towards the sofa. She knew that if he wanted, he could stay right there and no amount of tugging would move him; he was that strong. But he went with her, almost eagerly, and she smiled at him. Sitting them both down, she arranged her skirts, sitting so the dagger that rest against her thigh—she had nearly forgotten it was there—was not pressed uncomfortably between her skin and the couch.

"Remember when I told you that I was told of my fate on my eighteenth birthday?" she wondered. Carlisle nodded. "I was furious. My father had just told me that I was cursed to a life of loneliness, all because I was born to a certain family." She looked down and took his hand in hers, squeezing his fingers tightly. "He told me of how little of us there were left. Humans are fleeting. They born, they grow old, and they die. But I never will. How could I fall in love if everyone around me would live for a smattering of years while I would live for thousands? Look at my father. He was born in 495. He will continue to live. He was lucky, he found my mother even after the Volturi had slaughtered the rest of our people. But the other Immortals... Who knows if they are still alive, and if they are, their location is a secret. Immortals can sense each other, but only to a degree, it is not as if I could just sit here and track someone over across the Atlantic." She shook her head, glancing up as he tucked a piece of dark hair behind her ear and she smiled at him. "Vampires are the only other creatures to live forever. My father told me to hate them. Perhaps I should; they killed most of my family, and others like me. But I do not hate you. I cannot, it is impossible. I ache when I am away from you, it feels as if I am drowning and suffocating, and my heart is working too hard for my body." Another shake of her head. "You are the man I should hate, and yet you are the man I hate least in this world. I met you less than a fortnight ago, and yet already I am content with the knowledge that my previous assumptions were false. I will not be alone for eternity. I will not feel the loneliness of all those years. And that is all...because of you, Carlisle Cullen. You are my forever."

Tears had gathered without her realizing it and one fell out of each eye, which he quickly caught and swiped away before they made it half-way down her cheeks. He looked to be fighting emotions as well, moisture swelled in his eyes, and he blinked it back. Without a word, he leaned forward and tenderly caught her lips, her eyes fluttering shut as their lips moved together for a few moments, before breaking once more. His thumbs caressed her skin once again, even though she was able to stop any other water from falling.

"I am very glad you did not have to experience a second of that loneliness," he finally murmured. "And I am honored and humbled to be the one who gets to show you how truly wonderful life can be."

"Carlisle, please tell me you did not wait long," she demanded ever so gently, taking his hands from her cheeks and squeezing them. Her heart ached as his eyes became troubled. "I was thinking of that for the last two days. I could do nothing but think of you. I thought of so many questions...but I also thought about the fact that you are clearly well versed in resisting human blood. After all, how could you be a doctor if you were not? Which means you have been around for awhile."

They were silent together for a few moments, Carlisle looking as if he were debating something, before he slowly nodded. "I was born in London in 1640," he whispered. "And I was turned in 1663." Her eyes widened and she gasped softly.

"You have been alone for a hundred and eleven years?" Her voice cracked as her heart broke for him. That was far too long to be alone for anyone. She remembered hurting for her father who had been alone from the sixth century up until 1620 when he meet her mother; that was around a thousand years. She ached for him, she honestly and truly did. But the feeling she got then? To hear that her soulmate, her destiny had been cursed to the same existence for over a century? She could barely contain the tears, forced back the weeping even as tears escaped her eyes.

"Do not cry for me, beautiful girl," he whispered. "Please, I cannot bear to see you cry." He caught her tears again, but instead leaned forward and kissed them away. Her hands moved to wrap around his neck and she squeezed as hard as she could, knowing he could take it.

"You never have to be alone again," she murmured, kissing his cheek and then the corner of his lips. "I promise. I will not allow it."

"My Annabelle..." And he kissed her again, deeper, desperate. He brought her onto his lap and she clung to him, their lips moving together and she let him take over, knowing that he would take care of her. But she knew she could take care of him as well, if not physically, than emotionally and mentally. She would keep her promise. She would never leave him, never allow him to feel the pain or the sting of loneliness, never again. And she told him that with her kiss, running out of oxygen and not caring, though she knew he would as he gently pulled back and didn't allow her to follow him with her lips like she wanted to.

"I am so sorry you had to wait."

He smiled gently. "I waited for you. It was worth every moment."

She softly matched his smile, her fingers lifting to run through his beautiful, wonderfully soft blond hair. They stayed like that for another few moments, just letting their emotions even out and also take comfort in one another, before he reluctantly set her on the sofa and moved to start the tea kettle boiling. She helped him by reaching for the tea cups and saucers, or at least she tried, but she knew he hadn't accounted for her presence when he unboxed and they were on the highest shelf. She huffed as she tried to jump for them, and he chuckled as he picked her up and allowed her to grab them.

"I unboxed after the first time I met you, so that was completely my fault. My apologizes, Miss Steele."

She grinned as she set her cup and saucer on the counter. "I will forgive you, Dr. Cullen, as long as you repay me with a kiss." She tapped her pink lips and he grinned, leaning in to give her a kiss.

"Forgiven?"

"Forgiven." She patted his cheek and together they went back to the couch to wait for the kettle, but also to start Annabelle's line of questioning. Frankly she didn't know where to start; there was so much to ask, and she wasn't quite sure how to even phrase some of the questions. And she didn't know whether to start with questions about him personally, vampires in general, or them. But she decided she wanted to know about things that pertained to her—which of course included his history, seeing as he was her soulmate—so she left the general vampire questions until later and decided on the most obvious, and most important one.

"You mentioned a 'mating call,'" she said, watching as his eyes flickered up to her. "What is that exactly?"

"It happens when a vampire meets their soulmate," he said, grinning as her cheeks darkened. His thumb lifted to gently and minutely stroke that crimson spot, before dropping back to his lap. "We generally just call them mates, I honestly have no idea why. But it is that feeling that you and I got when we first met. That feeling that you would do anything for that person. You would protect them and keep them safe, you would nurture them and make them grow. There was nothing about them you did not find beautiful, and in that moment, they were the most important thing in all of creation to you, the most important thing that ever has and will ever exist." He paused. "And with vampires, there is also a possessiveness. The need to make that other person the center of their universe, and their universe only, especially around the opposite gender. It is as if they are all threats, all trying to take their mate away. I believe the only exception to that would be your father, for obvious reasons." She wrinkled up her nose and nodded thoughtfully.

"I felt all of that," she confirmed and watched his eyebrow raise. "I told you already, remember? I felt that I never wanted to leave your side, and that I would never look at someone else the way I looked at you."

"Good," Carlisle grunted.

Annabelle giggled. "And I also felt the possessiveness." He smirked. "It all gets worse when we are apart. The thought of someone else hurting you, or another woman coming near you..." She trailed off, her face set in a furious glare, and he looked to be struggling between amusement, pride, smugness, and even a bit of worry.

"But you know you never have to worry about that. The universe may be cruel in some things, but it is not cruel enough to make one feel the bond and the other to not."

"Did you not say that humans could not feel it, though?"

Carlisle shrugged. "True. But it is different. It is there, but they are too weak. It would crush them in a second, especially if it were denied by one or both parties. If they were to become vampires, then it would hit them."

"So it is just hidden."

"Precisely," he said. "Yours was even more hidden then mine. And we both know how denying this almost ended." He frowned and reached down to take her hand. "It took a lot of self control to keep it contained."

"Keep the control contained?" she wondered. He hesitated for too long as she squeezed his hand. "You can tell me anything, Carlisle." Her voice was a sincere promise.

He sighed. "Well... You see me as a man, correct?" She nodded, puzzled as to where he was going with this. "And I am. However, I am still a vampire, Annabelle. There is a vampire inside me that wants out." He paused. "I call it my beast. It wants free of its cage nearly every second of the day, but over the last century, I have fought to shove it in its cell and never let it out. I suppose when I am hunting, it makes a slight appearance, but even then I am still in control of it. However, when the mating call hit me, it nearly got free. The call comes from the soul, the most basic instinct, man versus beast. The man nearly disappeared in those woods; the beast was so strong. But I think even it knew that if it broke free, you would flee in terror. And so it fought its own instinct to possess and protect and hide you away, and instead let me have control as it knew that is what you needed."

Silence drifted between them. "The beast," she thought. It sounds like the vampires that Father told me of. It sounds like other vampires do not lock it away, they let it control them. That is why Carlisle is different, why he is so kind and compassionate. He fights his very basic nature—the beast—because he does not want to be a monster. And he did it for me. Her heart grew warm again and she squeezed his hand, looking up at him softly.

"Is that why your eyes are different?" she wondered, reaching up to let her thumb drift under the light purple shadows under his eyes. He looked surprised. "Father told me vampires have red eyes. Yours are more...caramel."

He chuckled. "Precisely. The beast wants human blood. The man does not. I drink animal blood. It does not make me as strong as some vampires, but it allows me to survive." He paused. "I have never drank from a human, and I never intend to."

Annabelle smiled lovingly. "My strong, compassionate mate," she murmured. "I adore you." The tea kettle chose then to start boiling and shrieking out, making her laugh and stand to go fetch it before it boiled over. She prepared herself a cup of tea with a cube of sugar in it before settling next to him on the sofa again. "So, where were we?" she wondered as she took a tentative sip of the hot beverage.

"You were saying you adore me," he said with a happy grin.

She peeked at him and giggled. "That I did," she said.

"So it is true?"

"Very much so."

He chuckled and leaned in to steal a kiss from her. After that, any tension seemed to ease out of them, not that there was much to begin with. He answered all the questions she asked without hesitation, and she found out more information about vampires that her father hadn't known. He told her of his time with the Volturi, and she made sure he knew that she didn't blame him for the death of her family or the rest of the Immortals. "You were not even born yet. How could you be to blame?" He also showed her what happened when he went into the sun, and she decided it was the most beautiful thing in the world to see. It made her want to kiss him all over, which made her blush, and then caused him to kiss her cheeks all over, then her eyelids, her nose, and finally back to her lips. They were locked in an embrace for a long while, and it wasn't until the sun started to set behind the horizon that she frowned and realized she should probably get home. Henry would probably be asleep when she got there, which she was hoping for, so she could talk to him when he was refreshed in the morning with his coffee. He would be furious, she knew, but she would use him and her mother as an example, one he couldn't refute. What if you and mother had never met? What if I never existed? That would surely get to him.

"I wish you could stay," Carlisle said, his voice sad. Annabelle frowned and leaned up to kiss him, even as the weight of their separation was already heavy on her shoulders.

"I know," she murmured. "But I shall be back, no matter what my father says."

"They are your family, Annabelle. You cannot—"

"What?" she interrupted. "Disobey them? I am tired of following their rules. They already fated me to an eternity, the least they could do is allow me to live it how I want to. And I want to live it with you. They are my parents, but you are my mate. I meant what I said when I promised you that you would never be alone again. Besides, I doubt they truly expected me to stay home with only their company forever."

Carlisle was still frowning and ran a hand through her hair, but finally nodded. "I can never say no or deny you anything," he whispered, stealing one more kiss from her. "But you must go before I change my mind and allow the beast to keep you here."

She smiled coyly. "Tell the beast I will see you both tomorrow morning." He gave her a gentle smile and she turned to walk out.

At least she almost got there before she heard him call out to her. "I love you, Annabelle Steele." She froze and spun on her heel, looking back at a lovingly smiling Carlisle. Her lips parted in shock, her heart beating faster until it made her head spin, and she didn't stop herself as instinct had her running back and throwing herself into his arms.

"I love you, too, Carlisle Cullen," she whispered. He smiled broadly and spun her around, making her giggle with delight, and took yet another kiss from her lips.

"I needed you to know that before you left," he murmured. "I hope it comforts you tonight."

"It definitely will." She gave him one more smile before finally heading out the door like she had intended.

.x.x.x.x.

Annabelle smiled the whole way home, even though she felt the effects of their separation the moment his door closed behind her. She had wanted to rush back in, but restrained herself as she walked down Heath Row and back towards Mulberry. The ache grew, widening the hollow pit in her chest just like before, her lungs tightened, her heart sped... She hated that it was becoming more familiar to her, because she knew that all she had to do was be in his arms where she was the most content, and that ache would go away. And I will be. For all of eternity, she thought excitedly. Eternity will not be quite so bad at Carlisle's side. She was so lost in her happy thoughts, feeling so blessed to be gifted with him, that she didn't notice the figure hovering in the living room window until it was too late.

The door in front of her swung open wide and she blinked in shock as a furious Henry Steele stood in front of her. His face was beat red, his hands fisted at his sides, and Gwendolyn hovered behind him, wringing her hands and looking nervously between her husband and daughter. For a moment they both just stood there staring at each other, Annabelle in shock and Henry breathing roughly through his nose like a bull. She expected him to stampede at any moment, but he continued to just wait until she had enough sense to speak up first.

"What is wrong, Father?" she wondered, her voice light, though she had a sinking feeling she knew what it was. Henry said nothing, did nothing, except to grab her arm and yank her inside the house. She yelped as his grip pinched and the door slammed behind her, making her wince, and immediately she regretted leaving Carlisle's apartment. She had wished they just ran away together right then and there without her being naive and thinking she could talk her father into this. If he didn't already know, when she told him the truth—and she would be a good daughter and do so—then he was surely to go ballistic.

"Where have you been?" he hissed. "And do not lie to me, girl. I spoke with Mrs. Lane who saw you walking down Heath Row."

Annabelle winced. She thought she had been so careful about avoiding the market, she never expected anyone to see her on the back streets towards Heath. Part of her wanted to roll her eyes and demand to know why he was listening to Betty Lane, but she didn't. Because she didn't want to lie to him, and because she refused to pretend Carlisle didn't exist. He was far to important to receive such a treatment.

"I was with Carlisle," she said easily, confidently, though that faded a bit as her father's face grew even more red and her mother gasped.

"Annabelle," Gwendolyn scolded and Annabelle wretched her arm out of her father's grip and ran for her mother.

"Mother, please," she begged, hoping that if Gwendolyn was on her side, then Henry would cave and allow her to see Carlisle without her resorting to drastic measures. Usually if Gwendolyn asked something of him, Henry could be talked into it. There was one thing that Henry Steele loved most in this world, and that was his wife. Annabelle knew she could never compete, and never tried to. But that didn't mean she couldn't take advantage of their bond, just as if someone wanted her to do something, all they had to do was speak of Carlisle and she would do it. "Carlisle is a good man. I did not just meet him for the first time two days ago. I met him the night before I fell ill."

"Excuse me?!" Henry thundered, but Annabelle babbled on, her voice and hands shaking.

"He is wonderful and charming, very kind and compassionate. He cares about everybody, and he's a brilliant doctor. He's a good man."

"He is not a man. He is a vampire! He is a monster!" Henry yelled.

Annabelle quickly shook her head as tears pressed against her eyelids, and she begged herself not to let them free. She had to be strong. But it was against every instinct to allow her father to speak like that of him, but she had to be resourceful about this. If she wasn't careful, she would lose her parents forever, because she knew losing Carlisle just wasn't an option. She hated to think that way, never thinking that she would willingly give up her family, but that has changed ever since the mating call hit her. (She was willing to bet that Henry had felt the same for Gwendolyn had he tried to have been stopped.) Even as they yelled, she could feel that ache, and it was growing wider and more suffocating the more her father carried on, and the more she had to fight with them.

Gwendolyn looked away quickly, and Annabelle knew she was lost. Usually she took Annabelle's side, wanting to bring out that free spirit in her daughter, but not in this instance. Apparently the vampire bit was just too much and so Annabelle slowly stepped back from her, frowning in sadness and disappointment.

"Mother, please," she whimpered again and she saw a tear slip down Gwendolyn's cheek, but the older Immortal didn't say a word to either of them.

"Stop your whimpering!" Henry growled, yanking Annabelle back to his side. "You are making deals with the devil, young lady. That man is a monster. It is his kind that killed the rest of yours. He is your enemy."

"You are wrong!" she yelled. Even Henry looked shocked then; she had never yelled at him before. She had cried, she had sobbed, she had screamed, but she had never yelled in fury. It just wasn't her style. "He is a good man! Just because you are too stubborn to see it does not mean there are exceptions to every rule."

"They are all the same, Annabelle. And you will never see him again."

"I am twenty-one years old! You cannot tell me what to do!"

"The hell I cannot! I am your father!"

"And I am your daughter! You are supposed to help me and support my decisions."

"I would, but anything except this. I refuse."

Annabelle's body trembled, her lip quivering, but she was set. Either she would make him believe that she was leaving and he would cave, or she would lose them both forever. She had to steal herself for that one, because the idea of losing her parents made her want to fall to her knees. But the idea of losing Carlisle made her want to die—no, she knew she would die—so she had to pick the weaker poison of the two. It would hurt, and it would continue to hurt for a very long time, but she could move on. She would have Carlisle. But she knew, deep down in her soul, there would never be moving on from Carlisle. Her soul wouldn't allow it; it would kill her first. Even considering the notion made her dizzy, her body ache, her heart nearly stop beating, her lungs protest.

"Fine then," she said quietly, evenly, calmly. "Then I have no choice." She glanced between them. "Goodbye, Father. Mother." She spun on her heel and marched for the door, begging them silently with each heavy step, feeling the shock radiating from them behind her.

"You would leave us for a man you met less than a fortnight ago?" her father demanded, his voice not quite as strong as it had been moments before, as her hand fluttered over the doorknob. "Has he really brainwashed you so easily?"

"He has not brainwashed me," she whispered, not turning around. "He has made me feel alive for the first time in my life. Unlike you, he does not want me to spend eternity alone. I will be at his side."

"You are a fool, Annabelle. He will get you killed."

"No. He is my soulmate. He will protect me as I will him."

"So your mother and I mean nothing to you." She winced. He knew that would hurt her and that's why he said it.

"You mean everything to me," she whispered. "I just wish I meant the same to you."

And with that, she turned the knob and wretched the door open, not waiting for a response as she slammed it shut and fled down the steps. It was like feelings were warring inside her. The ache of separation from Carlisle lessened the closer to Heath Row that she got, but the stronger the feeling of abandonment felt the further from her home she went. Part of her regretted not going up and fetching her quilt and some other items first—such as her fairytales—but she supposed she could replace them. It wasn't worth sticking around there if there would be more arguing and more berating of her feelings. Foolish girl, she sneered to herself. Father never would have allowed you to see him. How did you ever think that you could talk sense into such a stubborn man? You should have left earlier, and maybe you could have preserved some sort of relationship with your parents.

Blindly, she turned down Heath Row. She hadn't realized she was sobbing until her disturbed vision caused her to stumble over a loose cobblestone and fall to her knees on the street, crying out softy as the harsh road met her roughly. She wept softly, not being able to move as wave after wave of confusion, fear, hopelessness, and sadness crashed over her. It was like she was drowning in impossible illness all over again.

Soft, cool hands were on her shoulders a moment later and she gasped, her gaze snapping up quickly only to meet Carlisle's frightened and distressed topaz hues. He was speaking, at least she thought he was, his mouth was moving, but there was a ringing in her ears left over from her weeping that kept her from hearing him properly. Instead she just blinked out more tears, shook her head even though it probably made no sense, and then just threw herself into his arms and cried into his collar. He caught her easily and tenderly, immediately lifting to his feet and cradling to her chest as he hurried them back to his office. He didn't stop in the exam room, just moved them upstairs to his personal quarters and set her ever so gently upon the sofa, leaving only to come back with a blanket, tissues, and a cool, damp rag to put over her forehead.

.x.x.x.x.

She hadn't even realized she had fallen asleep until she woke up to the morning sun, a terrible aching headache, and the cold clutches of despair at her chest. And yet the beautiful man beside her seemed to immediately make it feel less painful as she moaned softly and struggled to sit up, quietly thanking him as he moved behind her and sat her against his chest. He didn't seem to mind her leaning all her weight against him, in fact he welcomed it, softly running his fingers through her raven locks as she woke up, yawning and stretching lightly and rubbing at her puffy, red-rimmed eyes.

"I must look horrible," she mumbled, knowing her cheeks were probably stained from the salty water and wishing she had some cool water to splash in her face and hopefully get rid of the tears, as well as her brush to get rid of the nest that her hair had become. She tried with her fingers, but it didn't do as good of a job as she hoped, making her frown.

"Never," he murmured. "You are the most beautiful woman in all of creation, Annabelle."

She managed a forced laugh and a sniffle before slowly she leaned her head back against his shoulder to look up at him, but she sort of wished she didn't once she saw his face. The look he gave her broke her heart, making tears come to her eyes once more and she forced back the need to weep. He looked so sad, and it made it even worse to know she was the cause of it. She truly hadn't meant to make him feel that way. Together for less than a day, and already it looks as if I ripped his heart out, she thought bitterly.

"Please do not look at me like that," she begged in a soft whimper. "I cannot bear to see you sad."

Carlisle sighed and leaned forward to rest his forehead against her shoulder. Her fingers moved to delve into his hair. "That goes for two of us, my dear," he whispered. "And you are hurt."

She looked at him confused before his fingers moved to her arms. She looked down, eyes widening when she saw light purple bruises on her left forearm and wrist in the shape of fingers. Her palms were both scratched up, and she felt as if her knee was bruised as well. For a moment she had no clue how those appeared, but then she faintly remembered falling on the cobblestones once she turned onto Heath Row. She wasn't sure if it was the scratches or the bruises that made him so tense, but Carlisle was frozen behind her and she turned ever so slightly to rest her head against his shoulder.

"I am okay," she whispered.

"Your father," he murmured, his voice a cold calm that made her want to comfort him more. His fingers gently touched the bruises and she knew what he was asking. Silently she nodded. "Every instinct is telling me I should confront him about hurting you. But I realize he probably did not mean to harm you." She shook her head. "He was angry." She hesitated before nodding, wondering what she should say to him. But she couldn't lie, and so she told him everything that happened.

"Father told me that you will get me killed." Carlisle stiffened. "He told me I was a fool. He said you brainwashed me. He laid guilt on me by saying that he and Mother did not mean anything to me." She paused and sniffled. "But he did not understand when I said you are my soulmate. Maybe I am a fool. But only because I was foolish to believe he could change. He is too stubborn." She sniffled again. "I choose you, Carlisle. I will always choose you."

He looked up again then, his eyes still haunted, but slowly he nodded. She could see he didn't quite accept it, but she knew it wasn't because he didn't want her there. It was because he didn't want her to give up her family for him, and frankly that just made her love him even more. He was such a selfless man, and not just because she was his mate. He cared about everyone, and it hurt her even worse to know that he was hurting because of it. He shouldn't be.

"We cannot stay here," he said gently and she nodded silently, allowing it to wash over them for a few minutes. As much as it hurt, she knew he was right. They couldn't stay, not with her parents just a few streets over, and they were sure to try getting some of the town involved. The last thing she wanted done is for Carlisle to be hunted down like a common criminal, because she knew darn well her father wouldn't put that upon her shoulders. However, he would take her home and lock her in her room if he had the chance, though neither jailing Carlisle or locking her away would last long. Nothing would be strong enough to keep Carlisle locked inside.

"I know," she whispered. "What if—" She stopped, looking away for a moment because her idea was stupid, but he gently brought her face back to him with soft fingers on her chin.

"What?" he pressed quietly.

She sighed. "What if we hide out in my cave for the day, and at twilight, we can leave? It is early enough now that nobody will see us moving through the village, and the sun is not fully awake. And at twilight, we can get a carriage and find somewhere new, just for us. We could find a carriage big enough to fit your belongings, or lock up and send for them later." She paused. "I just... I am hoping that we can somehow get into my—" She stopped again, and fought for a moment to restarted. "—my parents' home. I would love the quilt my mother gave me and a couple of books. But if we cannot, I understand."

"We will," he insisted, sealing the promise with a tender kiss. "And I love your idea. It is dark and nobody knows of it, right?" She nodded in confirmation. "We can send for all this. A smaller carriage will bring less attention. We shall just bring our clothing."

She frowned. "I suppose I should get that, too."

"Do your parents sleep early?"

She nodded. "As soon as it is dark."

"Then we can get in then. Or rather I can, I would rather you wait outside for me with the carriage. Tell me what you would like and I shall grab it for you. I could be much quicker and quieter that way."

She gave him a small smile. "Are you call me slow and loud?"

He hesitated, a small grin of his own appearing along with a chuckle, and she relished in it. "Not exactly..." he hedged, though she knew he was. But that was okay, because she knew she was, even as small as she was. But she trusted him to get what she needed and get out without waking Gwendolyn or Henry.

She giggled. "I love you, Carlisle," she murmured then.

He sighed, almost agonized, as he pressed his forehead to hers. "I love you, too, Annabelle."