Autumn came once more; it's gold and rustic beauty spreading throughout the outskirts of Ashland in resonant breezes, bringing with it, the breath of winter.
It turned the surrounding forest into a sea of red and gold leaves as the idyllic days passed, one after the other.
As her time in the mansion wore on, Edward's shy demeanour when he first met her was slowly changing as he warmed up to her in a considerably short amount of time.
Esme liked to consider her new relationship him as like being two peas in a pod.
He would play for her and she would spend long and blissful hours listening to him.
She was adjusting well to her new life, as strange and different it may be.
Her head on his shoulder as he slid his fingers through each key gracefully. The air filled with his melodious notes as it covers them in sweet content, and when a frown would crease his face, she would lightly tease him into laughter as she softly tapped the edge of his nose in delighted mirth.
Esme and Carlisle's relationship grew and evolved as each day passed. She found his little ritual of tugging unconsciously at his right sleeve when he thinks she isn't looking incredibly endearing.
When a moment alone was spared between them, she would begin to pay discreet attention to the little facets about him that intrigued her so even as a young adolescent girl.
But only at a demure distance.
The hypnotic look his eyes carried when he was not looking at her. When he was lost in his own thoughts, the way his accent would unbiddenly slip through his words when he would speak, or the way he held her stare with such visceral clarity that it was almost impossible not to drown in those golden irises.
His heart though still it may be, is strong. Yet contained such a sensitive vulnerability that he kept heavily concealed.
Hidden beneath dark curtains that time had passed over the centuries undetected.
Yet now when she lived under his roof Carlisle still retained that mystic air around him that was shrouded in such deep mystery that she found herself wondering often as she had did several countless times in the past, what intricate thoughts must have passed his mind that were kept hidden from his lips?
Only Edward would know.
And it was not in her nature to pry.
Unless the occasion called for it.
But each time he looked at her with those golden stares, instinct told her the answer was not as elusive as it may appear to be.
Esme grew quite fond of Carlisle's library and spends most of her time there, huddled in the leather bound embrace of its books. Somehow reading was her way of escaping. She is still ever so often haunted by memories of her human life and somehow she had found refuge in the never-ending ocean of books his library contained.
Her own way of numbing the pain, numbing the memories, somehow stumbling through it's ink filled pages for relief of the past and it's misery.
As the weeks passed she slowly began teaching herself to draw, Edward was sweet enough to provide her with all the paper and pencils she required.
And it was all the materials she needed to create her secret works of art.
Her newly-found talent though would not go unnoticed by the third resident of the mansion.
Somehow she noticed as the days passed by, the world seemed larger. Different yet it remained the same.
But she knew that nothing would ever be the same again.
The road ahead was filled with infinite possibilities to which she could partake in, yet something dawned upon her.
Time.
One early evening, in late November.
She was in the guest bathroom, ready to take a shower.
She was in nothing more than a simple white robe. She had slowly slipped out of it as she let it slide down the white tiled floor. Her first instinct was to avoid the mirror and head straight for the bath, but on this particular evening something stopped her.
She took in a breath and walked up to the spotless mirror, her bare feet making its way across the room.
She kept her eyes closed halfway there, and once she knew she had arrived at her destination she opened them once more.
She was an image of utter beauty and loveliness.
Somehow not quite the image she expected to see, somehow she had expected to see something else.
Her face was hers, yet she no longer felt the same.
She felt like someone different.
Who this new person is, she did not know.
She looked into her own golden eyes as a sigh escaped her lips.
She felt lost.
Esme looked on at her reflection, a feeling of uncertainty hovering above her as her eyes made their way from her beautiful face and down to her body as she meticulously traced ever line, every angle, every soft curve that she could find.
And then it occurred to her once more as it did in that time in the living room with Edward.
Time.
Time is gone.
There are no more minutes to count, no hours to be lost, no seconds to pass.
Her time was infinite.
Imminent.
Permanent.
She would always be timeless. Deathless.
Her face forever the same.
Aging was no longer a possibility. As she thought upon this realization, it reminded her of a thought she had carried in her mind once as a child. Her youthful ideas on the very fact of aging consisted of grey hair, wrinkled skin and sagging breasts that time could not possibly fix. But as she stood there in all her eternal beauty, that perception of life is somehow altered. Perhaps for all time.
Somehow aside from that newly found notion, Esme knew she could no longer produce children.
And it is the one thing that hurts her the most with violent pangs of pain.
Now only two more question remains.
With all that endless time to spend.
When does eternity begin? After all that is said and done, what is there left to do?
It was the first of December, past 5 in the afternoon.
Light was beginning to fade as the leafless trees stood in adamant statures, deftly awaiting the first frozen snowflake to fall.
The air was light and cold, night would follow quickly soon after.
Carlisle was in his room dark panelled room, staring out at the open balcony as he watched Edward enter the nubile forest to hunt.
Esme would be the only one in the house, her and him.
He stepped away from the balcony window and took a pause as he stood a foot away from his bed.
There it was sitting on top of his cream coloured eiderdown, a perfectly squared medium sized brown package that was tied up with a simple white string.
He wondered secretly to himself whether she would like it or not.
He stepped out of his room and quietly closed the door behind him. The air was starting to grow cooler but he felt no chill as he made his way out of the long corridors, making a sharp turn as he descended the stairs.
He made a mental note to contact the sales woman in town with whom he had filed an order from, the clothes he had requested for Esme had still not arrived.
Not that he complained, he rather quite enjoyed seeing her in his dressing shirts. He found her completely ravishing in them in fact.
He remembered an amusing memory that happened not long but a mere few days ago.
Carlisle had been working the graveyard shift once more at the hospital, he had just finished a gruelling three hour surgery and had to come back home quickly to bathe and change his clothes before his early dawn rounds started. Somehow the specific dressing shirt he had chosen to wear on that day was the peach coloured polo she had worn on her first night, it had already been sent to the cleaners yes, but yet her softly feminine scent still lingered within the fabric.
He went to the hospital later that morning. His mind completely clouded by her scent.
Carlisle had the brown package tucked under his arm as he found the brass doorknob that led to the library.
He knocked softly and waited for a reply.
Nothing.
He knocked again and waited.
Silence.
He pushed the door open and walked past the threshold, closing the door behind him as he entered.
His eyes search the dimly lit room that was lighted by a cheerful fire burning in the old fireplace.
She was not there. But then he saw something sticking out, something out of place. He could not see it properly due to the large chestnut sofa that was blocking his view. As he walked towards it, he noticed it was a bare foot, her bare foot.
He shook his head as he chuckled quietly. He walked closer and found that she was sprawled out on the carpeted floor. She was wearing his indigo blue dressing shirt this time, the dark contrast of the fabric only served to enhance the pale glow that radiated from her skin, Esme was completely surrounded by large books and several scattered pieces of paper that were filled with half sketched drawings.
He could see she was still working on a drawing as her delicate fingers manuvered the pencil around the white sheet.
He stands next to the sofa, somehow not wanting to disturb her in her time of creativity. He would have been merely content to just stand there and look at her for the rest of the evening, but as he felt the crinkle of the brown package under his arm his resolve broke.
"Esme," He softly called out.
Her head turns slowly as she smiles sweetly, "Hello Carlisle."
He made his way onto the sofa as he sits himself down, "I have something for you," He says as he hands her the brown package.
Her eyes dance with curiosity as she holds the package in her hands, "What is it for?" She asks.
"Consider it an early Christmas present." He replies as he looks at her from his seat. The fire burning from behind her creating soft yellow light that traces itself onto her caramel locks.
She sits up cross-legged and places the package in front of her as she begins to undo it's string.
For a moment he is frozen as he sees the gold necklace hanging around her neck, it's heart pendant resting contentedly at the very hollow of her throat.
He quickly averts his gaze before she could see.
The package contained a very large sketchpad that was meticulously binded by black leather and on top of it were several myriads of charcoal pencils.
"Carlisle..." She exclaimed softly as she ran her fingers across it's smooth white pages.
"It's drawing material I had sent from Paris, I do hope you'll like it." He said with a gentle smile.
"It's lovely," She said setting it down as she stood up, her eyes filled with warm gratitude.
Carlisle got up from his seat, rising to his full height as he towered above her.
"You deserve it. You are a very talented artist, Esme." He said, his voice almost lowering into a whisper.
Awkwardly he held out his hand for her to shake, but she shook her head and walked past his outstretched arm and embraced him. Standing on the tip of her toes as she wrapped her arms around his neck, "Thank you," She said warmly into his ear.
Somehow her gentle action rendered him motionless for a moment, his arms feeling like lead for a quick second before he gently returned her embrace. Feeling somehow dazed as he breathed in her sweet scent.
He wanted their embrace to have lasted longer but he felt her slowly unwrap herself from his arms.
She smiled once more at him as she spoke, "Sit with me by the fire?" She motioned to an empty spot on the carpet next to her as she made herself comfortable.
He smiled lightly and followed her actions as he crouched down low next to her.
She quickly grabs the drawing she been working on and places it on top of her new sketch book as she uses one of her new charcoal pencils to line the mysterious drawing.
She was working rather fervently on this particular sketch, Carlisle could hear the sound of her quick and agile motions of the charcoal pencil scraping it's way onto the paper.
It was difficult to take a surreptitious glance at what she was working on, for she was seated in a position that was facing him.
"I apologize by the way for the delay in your clothing," He said quietly, "They were supposed to arrive today, the sales woman was rather confusing when it came to measurements."
"It's fine," Esme replied as soft mirth played upon her lips, "I'm growing quite fond of your dressing shirts,"
She could just imagine him in that little store with that darlingly lost look in his eyes. She bit back a smile as she hid her face beneath her hair.
He leaned his back against the sofa seat as he watched her in amused wonder and quiet curiosity.
Esme glanced up at him and saw the look on his face as she answered his silent question, "You'll see in a moment," She said as a crooked smirk escaped her lips.
She could still feel his eyes on her as she stifled a smile.
Carlisle tilted his head lightly to the left.
"Don't move." She commanded.
Carlisle laughed softly, "As you wish, mademoiselle artiste."
She shook her head as she smiled at him.
"There was a dress I picked out for you," He whispered quietly. The depth in his eyes growing serious as he spoke.
"Really?" She replied without looking up, her swift hands moving around the white paper.
"It reminded me of the night you came to the clinic." His eyes lingered in the mellow flames that danced erratically before them.
She caught his eye as her movements came to a halt and her breath ceasing for a moment.
Suddenly as she sat there so close to him, she was no longer the grown woman she thought she was. But instead she was that young girl of 16 trembling and clumsy, looking at him with glossy eyes of secret adoration, looking at his beautiful face made the memory of that night come flooding back into her mind. Fresh and clear as glass itself.
A long silence followed them both soon after, either of them lost in their own thoughts.
They stayed that way for almost 15 minutes, her left leg outstretched as her foot rested lightly against his knee. He continued to stare at her when she did not noticed, entranced by her beauty. Tracing her eyes, her soft cheeks, the bridge of her nose, the way her lip delicately curved at the bottom, the way the warm golden embers from the fire reflected in her eyes and how it reminds him of the glistening sands of Egypt.
But he does not tell her this as she continues to draw.
After a few more minutes she finishes the drawing.
She moves closer to him as she shows Carlisle the finished product, barely aware of their covered arms brushing against each other as they sat.
The drawing was a superb intricate sketch of his face. She captured the very essence of it perfectly. She had drawn effortlessly the incandescent detail of his eyes and the look they carried when his gaze is fixated onto a particular object, even the way he carried his soft lips.
"Is this how I really look like?" He asked, his eyes staring out in wonder at the drawing in his hand.
"Mhmm." She replied as she smiled, "Wonderfully lovely as the first day I met you," She said quietly.
"You still remember?" He spoke, the traces of his accent lingering in his voice.
"How could I forget?" She replied, her eyes suddenly narrowed down to her fingers. Her breath threatening to quicken.
"This is lovely, Esme." He said trying to avert the impending unspoken conversation that was about to take place.
"You can have it, my gift for you." She said meeting his eyes again.
He found himself leaning closer to her, some invisible force pushing him forward, it was futile to resist. He could feel her breath on his face.
Her lips were parted but no words left them, her eyes were completely locked onto his.
The anticipation in the air between them was heavy and thick.
A lock of hair was sprawled out lightly against her face as he raised his hand and tucked it neatly behind her ear, his ambiguous intentions baffling him as he tried to regain his composure, fighting the seducing temptations that clouded his thoughts. But before he could retrieve his hand, hers found his as she softly guided it to her cheek, leaning into his touch as she closed her eyes.
They were seated so closely now that there was hardly any space between them. He gently slid his hand down to her chin as he slowly urged it upwards in silent encouragement; somehow the barrier between them was already being breached in full force. There was no stopping now, their breath mingling with each other as their lips close the remaining spaces between them with single-minded determination, each second passing only to heighten the thirst that their souls craved for in hushed secrecy.
Time stopped as their lips were desperately inches apart, both high from the intoxicating ecstasy that surged through their veins. Both of them relishing in the moment, in this moment that belonged to them and them alone.
The world was slowly drifting away as Carlisle's lips brushed against hers by a fraction of a second, her arms wrapping themselves once more onto his neck as she leaned further into him, beckoning him to her with soft breaths.
He could no longer fight her, his senses were beginning to blur. The taste of her lips stripped him of his strength and will completely, there was only sweet surrender to this fiery battle of self-control.
His strong arms laced themselves onto her waist, pulling her closer to him with a gentle grab. Wanting to lose himself completely in her soft caresses as her delicate fingers found the infinitesimal buttons of his collar, a frission of trepidation flowed through him at the thought of the buttons coming undone.
One simple knock of the door sent them both crashing back down to earth.
A/N: Hey guys! Here's chapter 21! I hope you enjoy! THANK YOU for all your lovely reviews and I hope you all have a wonderful and blessed Easter :) I LOVE you guys! God bless!
Stay tuned for Chapter 22! And please keep Readin' and Reviewin'! It makes me incredibly insane with happiness XD