I stared out of the long window in the living room, out over the dark garden and into the forest beyond. Once there was a time when wolves ran in those woods. That time was long gone though, nothing seemed to stir in the undergrowth, besides a badger or two. In the distance I heard the hooting of a lone owl, and I suddenly felt very lonely.

It was Saturday evening, and the house, for once, was quiet. Alice had dragged Jasper to Seattle for late-night shopping, and Edward and Emmett were hunting up near Mount Rainier, while Rosalie was tapping away on one of the computers. Carlisle was still working, but was getting off soon.

"Really, again Rose?" I asked as the sound of Ravel's Bolero pounded through the surround-sound from the computer.

"I'll have you know, Esme-"

"Torvill and Dean are the greatest ever, yes I know, Rose," I chuckled. Rose had such a passion for figure skating, her favourites being the British dance couple Torvill and Dean. she had been thrilled when I went with her to Torino in 2006 to see Sasha Cohen, another of her favourites. She didn't like to mention it around the others though, and even though Edward and Alice boh clearly knew, they were good enough never to mention it.

"Don't even get me started on Lillehammer, Esme," she said stubbornly.

"No, I wont sweetie. I know."

She stuck her tongue out at me, making me giggle. Not wanting to disturb Rosalie while she watched the screen intently, and not wanting to be around when she began her "not an edge out of place!" gushing that always followed, I crossed the room and went upstairs. Without really thinking about it, I went into the music room. This was where all the instruments were kept, besides Edward's grand. There were acoustic and electric guitars, favourites of Emmett, cornets (Alice had insisted on cornets, telling us with no hesitation that the trumpet was far too harsh, while the cornet had a much sweeter tone), trombones, soprano, alto and tenor saxophones, cellos, violas, violins, oboes, recorders, and flutes, not to mention the collection of African drums, and the two drum kits. There was also an upright piano, but that was mostly used for accompanying the other instruments, rather than playing for the benefit of a soloist.

"Hello, old friend," I smiled, and walked over to my silver flute. It had been so long since I had played at all, even though I used to love playing my flute and guitars. Without hesitation I picked up the silver flute that had my name engraved on the side of it, and blew across the mouthpiece. A little out of tune, after the few years of neglect, but after a few scales it played like a charm again. My fingers flowed across the keys into an easy, familiar tune. Ever since our wedding, Bach's 'Air' was always a favourite of mine. I smiled and set it down again.

It had been so long since I had been in there, played or sung properly at all, and I decided to treat Rosalie. Smiling, I picked up on of the acoustic guitairs, and began my own acoustic version of Frank Sinatra's 'Let's Face The Music'.

"There may be troubles, ahead,

But while there's moonlight and music

And love, and romance," I sang happily to the chords.

"Let's face the music, and dance," I heard Rosalie's reply, followed by her tinkling laughter. I joined in happily, as the sounds of Carlisle car turning into the drive reached my ears. Without setting the guitar down, without even thinking about it, my fingers strummed the strings in a new pattern.

"For you, there'll be no cryin',

For you, the sun will be shining,

'Cos I feel that when I'm with you,

It's alright, I know it's alright,

And the songbirds keeping singing like they,

Know the score,

And I love you, I love you, I love you, like never before."

I heard footsteps behind me as I strummed into the instrumental break, and smiled.

"To you, I would give the world," came a melodic voice from behind me, singing perfectly in tune with me. "To you, I would never be cold."

"Mm, hello, honey," Carlisle murmured into my hair as he hugged me gently from behind.

"Do you mind, I was in the middle of a masterpiece there," I laughed, setting the guitar down.

"I'm awfully sorry, Mrs Cullen," he said woefully as he rested him chin on my shoulder.

"You will be," I joked.

"Is that a threat?"

"No. It's a promise," and stepped away from him, giving him a wink.

"I do love you Esme," he sighed happily.

"And I love you," I said, stepping back into his arms.

"'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date: Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines... When in eternal lines to time thou growest: So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this and this gives life to thee."

"Shakespeare," I smiled.

"His eighteenth sonnet."

"I know. It was read at our wedding."

"I know." He leaned in to kiss me as I wrapped my arms around his neck. We hardly seemed to have moments like these any more, and I savoured each second.

"Esme!" Rosalie whined up the stairs. We ignored her. "Esme!" she whined even louder. We ignored her again. This was our moment, and no one was going to spoil it.

"ESME!" she yelled, and began storming up the stairs.

"What?" I called back, exasperated, not to mention slightly annoyed.

"The computer broke!" she whined

"And what do you want me to do about it?"

"I don't know! but I need it on again!"

"Use another one!" I said angrily. She knew Carlisle and I hardly seemed to have any time together.

"Oh. Oh yeah." She stomped down the stairs again, and the whir of one of the computers started.

"Teenagers," Carlisle rolled his eyes.

"No, just Rosalie," I corrected him.

"I heard that," she growled from downstairs. We chuckled.

"So Dr Cullen," I said with a smile. "How are you today?"

"Well, I was pretty low, until I heard you singing. You know, you have the sweetest voice."

"Well, your's isn't too bad either," I giggled.

"Well, I have had over three hundred years to perfect it," he winked at me.

"Old man," I teased.

"Old?" he repeated, mock-offended.

"Just a tad."

"Could an old man, do this?" he asked, and he swept me into his arms, and darted into our suite.

"Maybe not," I replied breathlessly as he laid me gently on the bed.

"I didn't think so," he smiled down at me.