Esme felt a package being placed upon her lap. Still she did not move. There was a coldness between them that stilled their tongues for a moment, till she spoke once again.

"Why do you dislike me so much?" She whispered. Esme's voice was tinged with hurt. She retained her position, as she kept her face turned away from him.

Carlisle inwardly winced.

She spoke again, her voice softer this time. "I know I can be an awful burden to some. I can't help the way I am. I can't change my temprament anymore than can I change this darkness I see every day. But perhaps the worst of it all is that, I have this hope," Her voice broke, "this feeling that it could get better, that things will get better. That tomorrow will be different than yesterday. You'll be pleased to know that I am often wrong."

Carlisle watched a singular tear escape her eye, he watched it glisten as it rolled down against the softness of her cheek.

"You may not know it, but I have ambitions too. Then again they are mostly unrequited dreams, I know its sort of asinine to comprehend but, I believe in those dreams - each and every one of them. I want certain things for myself, things I know I can never have. Sometimes I think it should be a sin to long for so many things all at the same time. I know I'm hopeless, a restless dreamer, spoiled rotten, but please don't dislike me or loathe being with me - at least try to pretend not to."

He could see her lips tremble as she swallowed the urge to sob. And for some reason beyond him, he had this impulsive urge to take her in his arms and to console her in all her weary despondence, just as he so desprately wished to be consoled in his.

But he did none of those as he spoke to her, his voice unusually gentle, "I am sorry."

She blinked once and nodded lightly. Her arms loosened from their crossed position against her waist.

Carlisle continued, "And I never said I disliked you. I also cannot help the nature of my temperament. But I am truly sorry if I've hurt you by any of my actions."

She nodded again, her fingers fumbling with the package in her lap.

Carlisle lightly patted her hand that was covered with her traveling gloves and said by way of changing the topic of their current converse, "Don't you want to open your birthday gift?"

She did not say anything this time, only nodded for fear that if she would speak again, it would come out in clustered sobs.

"Go on," Carlisle urged.

She hesitated for a moment. But her curiosity was drawing her out from her shell as she placed a hand on top of the object in front of her.

Esme was not certain of what to expect from Carlisle. Being the unexpected man that he is, Esme was positive he was not one for purchasing gifts, nor did he seem to be the celebratory kind of person. The fact that he had gone out of his way to surprise her with whatever was inside this box was truly out of his character; it was almost astonishing in a sense that he bothered to even remember her birthday, his previous actions that required Esme to be reduced to tears spoke for itself and his natural qualities as a brute.

It still did not make sense to Esme. He could be so cold most of the time, so cruel...

And yet...

She tried not to ponder on those thoughts too much. He did apologize after all. Instead, she focused in undoing the gloves she had been wearing. Deftly she began to tug the piece of clothing at the tips of the finger, lightly stretching the cloth so that it would loosen.

Once both gloves were removed, she placed them neatly beside her in her seat.

Dr. Cullen watched with an intense curiosity as Esme's fingers began to unravel the ribbon, quickly discarding it to the side as she began to lift the box's cover. She reached inside and felt something. Something cold, delicate. He could see her face contort with thought as she tried to decipher the object before her.

"What is it?" She asked, turning to him.

Unannounced, Carlisle's hand found hers, inwardly she gasped at their sudden contact. His skin was cold against hers, she could feel him guide her hand to the center of the box. It was then he spoke,

"Its a necklace. Your grandmother entrusted it to me before she died, she wanted you to have it." Said Carlisle.

Esme felt the pendant between her fingers. It was smooth and glossy, almost like ice, but the longer she held it, the longer the coldness turned into warmth from her touch.

It was an intricately strung golden necklace that had a single tear-shaped diamond pendant, the size of an almond nut.

Esme lightly toyed with the diamond between her fingers, a small smile crept upon her lips. Carlisle watched just as the light caught the diamond's brilliance as its radiance sent out incandescent light throughout the room.

"I...I don't know what to say.." Esme said, turning to her companion as she smiled at him, her heart lifting with joy. "Thank you." She whispered. "At least now, I can have something to remember her by - always."

Carlisle nodded, and replied, "She wanted very much for you to wear it on your birthday."

"I shall cherish it always." Said Esme softly, her voice filled with emotion. She quickly began to drape the necklace around her neck.

"May I assist you with the clasp?" Asked Carlisle.

"Will you, please?"

"Of course."

Esme quickly gathered her braided hair with both hands so as to not obscure the Doctor's view of the necklace's lock.

Carlisle leaned towards her suddenly aware - too aware of his surroundings. And instantaneously she was enveloped in his strange embrace, the hem of his cuffs brushing against her shoulder. Esme remained still, her heart started to race at his closeness, and Carlisle was not deaf to its music.

Dr. Cullen managed to secure the clasp onto its place. And just before he retreated back into his seat, he solicited a gaze at the nape of her neck, and saw how delicately it was arched; the supple and chaste softness her skin posessed, he could smell her scent. He knew it was wrong.

Esme was also beginning to be aware of this sudden and abrupt change in their interaction towards each other. And for some reason that fled her reasonings, she desperately craved to be older than she was at this moment.

Carlisle was quick to recoil his hands, stuffing them into the recesses of pockets as he allowed his form to sink further back into his seat. "The clasp is secured." He said tonelessly.

Esme could feel the immediate absence of his arms around her. "Thank you, Doctor." She replied, her voice carrying undertones of the confusion she felt inside.

She felt the sudden need to kiss him, and she did not know why. She had a feeling that this trip was going to be quite different than she imagined.