Chapter 6

"Morning, Feathers," Esme said as she entered her living room.

She opened the parrot's cage and dropped pieces of dried fruit in her bowl.

"Thanks," Feathers squawked.

"You're welcome."

She went to the kitchen to pick up her breakfast and came back to eat it next to Feathers.

"It's sunny today," she noted.

Feathers nodded, or at least it looked like it. Though she was perfectly capable of speaking, she seldom engaged in conversation with Esme. Esme assumed she had a shy personality and was accustomed to it after all those years spent together.

"I hope Carlisle feels okay today," Esme sighed.

"It's the third time you say that since you woke up."

Esme shrugged and smiled. They spent the rest of their breakfast in companionable silence.

Several customers who lived in the neighborhood asked Esme why the newsstand had been closed the last few days. She explained a friend had needed her help. Because that's what they were, right ?

At 1 p.m, her phone vibrated, signaling the arrival of a new message. She couldn't help a smile from spreading on her face when she caught sight of the sender's name. It was Carlisle.

C : Hey, he wrote. I'm feeling fine today, no headache at all, so I think I'll go back to work tomorrow.

E : that's wonderful! i'm glad you're okay, she answered. have a good day

C : You too.

C : :)

It had been but a short interaction, and yet it warmed Esme's heart in a way that the small radiator she'd installed at her feet couldn't. She was glad he was back to normal, and glad he'd thought to write to her.

Carlisle spent a quite gloomy day. Esme had (involuntarily or not ? He didn't know.) left him her box of matches and a pile of newspapers, certainly left over from her unsold stock, and during about ninety minutes, he occupied himself trying to light a fire in his chimney. Unfortunately, it didn't take up a lot of time, and he was left with a few hours left before even an early lunch. He didn't know what to do. He longed to text Esme, but a) he didn't know what to say and, b) he wanted to appear detached (even though he certainly wasn't).

He couldn't even finish her book, because, unlike what he'd told her, he already had. With a sigh, he picked it up again and began to reread it.

Thankfully, lunch came and he ate the remainder of the potatoes they'd made the day before, as well as some salad and the last apple. He frowned. All he had left was salad and bread, which he kept for breakfast. Oh, and sandwiches. He needed to go shopping for food again soon. He could go now, but he didn't want to go alone. If he asked her, would Esme accept to come with him ? He hoped she would.

When he was done with his meal, he decided he'd let enough time pass and that he wouldn't seem too insistent if he wrote to her. He told her that he felt normal now and was considering going back to work the next day. She answered him almost immediately. She'd wished him a good day ! The atmosphere was suddenly warmer, the light brighter. He wanted to see her again. He'd just had a genius idea : since her newsstand was on the way between his house and the entrance of the Underground, he could get up earlier and leave earlier, so that he could stop and talk to her when he walked past it. He would have the pleasure to be in her company, without risking being late to work. Yes, he really liked that idea.

He called the hospital to let them know he'd recovered and was going back to work the day.

Esme missed Carlisle, which was quite pathetic since she'd seen him the day before. Plus, it wasn't as if they were that close – they weren't close at all. Pathetic or not, she couldn't help but feel she lacked her usual good humour, something that some of her customers seemed to notice, too.

"You okay ?" a woman asked her when she handed her the newspaper she'd just bought.

"Yes, thank you," she said, smiling hastily.

"You seem kind of – dispirited."

Esme knew this woman by sight : she bought The Times every Tuesday and Friday, The Observer on Sundays, and, it seemed, was used to a more cheerful Esme.

"Must be because of the weather," Esme told her. "It's depressing."

The woman agreed and, after a remark about how it was always cloudy there, took The Times and left.

Esme sighed. Despite what she'd told the concerned lady, she knew it wasn't the weather that was affecting her – or if it was, it was only aggravating her already dark mood. She wanted to check on Carlisle again. Sure, he'd texted her that he felt normal now, but could you trust a man who forgot to eat every now and then, whose only food was a rotten apple and expired biscuits and who didn't bother to repair the heating in winter ? (The list was endless, really.) No. Even Feathers had told Esme she was worried for him.

However, her concern for Carlisle wasn't the only reason she longed to see him. She'd already admitted to herself she had a crush on him – but that had been before these two days spent at his house. Had her feelings changed now ? No, they hadn't. If anything, they had only intensified. Feelings for an almost stranger – or was he still a stranger ? They were kind of – friends, now, weren't they ? She wasn't sure. To be fair, she wasn't sure about a lot of things when it came to Carlisle Cullen. With his blond hair and blue eyes, he was handsome, and yet there was something else about him – Esme couldn't quite put her finger on it. She had a visceral need to take care of him. There were moments where he seemed truly helpless. She remembered him, shivering, his hair bloody, sitting in the snow. What if I hadn't been there ? she asked herself. What would have happened to him ? She'd rather not try to imagine.

When he got up on the next day, for the first time in a while, Carlisle was filled with excitement. He'd set his alarm half an hour earlier than usual, but he'd woken up even before it rang. His shift started at 7:30 a.m and it took him about an hour to get to the hospital. He showered and dressed himself in a frenzy. He'd actually see Esme again ! He couldn't wait. At breakfast, he finished the bread. He was thinking about asking Esme to go to the Tesco with him when he came back from work.

Swallowing the last bite of bread, he rose and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth, checking and rechecking he didn't have any crumbs stuck. He then put on his shoes and his coat, took his bag and key and walked out of his house. He turned around to lock the door, and began to head towards the newsstand. He could already see it… and its owner, smiling widely at Carlisle. His lips immediately curved in response.

"Hi !" he said as he reached her.

"Good morning," Esme answered brightly.

"You're up early," he noted.

"People often stop here on their way to work," she explained.

She raised her eyebrows at him.

"Like you, for example."

I stopped to see you, not to buy a newspaper, he thought, but for some reason he didn't say it out loud.

"Where's Feathers ?"

"I left her at home, it's too cold for her today."

He nodded comprehensively. If it were possible, he would've stayed in bed. But then he wouldn't have been able to see Esme. Well, then, if it were possible, they'd both be comfortably sitting on the couch in front of a roaring fire.

"How are you ? Eating correctly ?" Esme asked.

"I'm fine. Actually, I've finished pretty much everything we bought the other day. Would you mind going back to the Tesco Express with me ?"

He didn't really need her, but she was glad that he wanted her to come with him.

"Sure. At what time does your shift end ?"

"7:30 p.m. I should be here around 8:00."

"Okay, great !"

He smiled.

"How's Feathers ?"

"She's good. She misses you, actually."

She's not the only one, she added in her mind.

"I miss her, too," he answered.

Their gazes locked, and Esme suddenly didn't feel the cold as acutely. Somehow, she had a feeling he wasn't talking about her pet parrot anymore.

"You should come to my house one of these days to see her."

"I'd like that very much."

He grinned again. She liked it when he smiled. It made him look a little younger, more carefree. Happier.

"Are you feeling warm enough ?" he asked, a concerned look on his face as yet another shiver ran down her back.

"Yeah, thanks. I usually have a small radiator installed here – " She pointed under the counter. " – but it turned off on its own yesterday and I haven't managed to switch it back on."

"Oh. "

His face suddenly lit up and she looked at him curiously, wondering what had struck him. He only shook his head slightly at her, in a way that meant You'll see. She smiled back at him. He was gazing at her now, blue eyes slightly widened. They really were quite beautiful, when they weren't hooded with exhaustion or sickness. He continued staring and after a few seconds she began to feel embarrassed. Did she have a trace of something on her face ? Traces of coffee at the corners of her mouth, maybe ? She was close to asking him when his cheeks colored and he finally looked away.

Carlisle hastily turned his eyes on the ground. His face burned. What had got into him ? He didn't know. Trying to act as if everything was normal, he glanced at his watch and started.

"I'm sorry, I have to leave," he told Esme.

"See you."

Her voice was tinged with regret.

"It won't be that long," he said, both to her and to himself.

"Do you have a sandwich ?"

"I do," he said, his face mirroring her grin.

"Well, then. Goodbye."

"Goodbye," he breathed.

He stood for a few beats, urging to… to what exactly ? He didn't really know. Suddenly, he wished the counter separating them didn't exist.

After one last glance at Esme, he set off to the Underground.

"Carlisle ! You're back !" Tanya exclaimed from behind her desk as soon as Carlisle stepped out of the elevator.

"I told you I would be," Carlisle answered.

"You never know," she said with a light smile.

He shook his head, a small grin on his lips.

"How are you ?" he asked.

"I'm good. But the important question is how are you ?"

"I'm all right. I was only a bit sick."

He smiled slightly, remembering how he'd thrown up his quarter of an apple in the toilets.

"We were worried about you," Tanya said. "You fainted in the street, and during a cold winter night ! You were so lucky your neighbor saw you and helped you."

A large grin broke on Carlisle's face.

"I really was. Esme is a very kind woman."

"I know, I had her on the phone. What a beautiful name ! It's very original."

He nodded.

"She's just lovely, isn't she ?" she said, her face now bearing a sly expression, as if she was setting a trap for him.

"She is. She's one of the most thoughtful and gentle people I've met."

Tanya grinned.

"Looks like someone's got a crush," she said, taking a sip of coffee.

Carlisle blushed.

"I – that's – not what I meant."

"Maybe, but it's true. Admit it," she added before his embarrassed silence.

"I – I need to go."

He fled to his office, Tanya raising her eyebrows after him with a knowing smile.