30 CHAPTERS! I figured that this deserves to be a mile-stone chapter for the boys, so that's what it is. In celebration and apology for updating so late, I'm also posting a second chapter today as well :) Thank you for putting up with me for so long, I'm still a little shocked people are reading this, if i'm honest!

As usual, I've edited, but there's most likely still mistakes.

.

.

The next morning, four AM, came far too quickly. Still sleepy and uncomfortable from sleeping in his clothes, Carlisle wasn't really functioning that well. I made us both coffee, and sat across from him at the table while he worked. My eyelids were heavy, but my plan was to go back to bed after I dropped him off at work, so I wasn't too concerned about my own lack of sleep. My boyfriend looked pretty shattered, though.

I leaned forward, resting my head in my hands as I listened to him type. The rhythmic sound of it wasn't encouraging me to stay awake, and I was really battling it.

"Go back to sleep, Gar, I'm okay by myself," he murmured to me, reaching over to rub my hand.

"I'm alright; I'll drive you to work," I argued, trying to sound more conscious than I actually was.

"I can walk, your rest is more important."

"No, Carlisle, it's fine, I promise." Letting my eyes drift closed for a few seconds at a time. It was a mistake. The next time I glanced up at Carlisle, noting his silence, he was gone and light was streaming into my apartment through my curtains. Fuck.

My gaze landed on a note taped to my half-empty coffee cup, and my heart immediately melted.

'Breakfast is in the oven. See you tonight, love you :)'

I groaned, guilty. He was so sweet it was killing me. Quickly sending him a thankyou text, I went and retrieved the food. Sulking in bed until he came home again seemed like a good option, so I retreated down the hallway to my room. Both of us were off for the weekend, and I planned to kidnap him for the entire time. I knew he'd probably want to sleep for the majority of it, but just having him home with me was more than enough.

Finishing the food in front of me, I lay down again, folding my arms over my face to block out the light and sighing heavily. Surprisingly, going to sleep was fairly easy, despite not having my boy next to me. I put it down to the stupid hour that we both woke up.

It was after two in the afternoon by the time I opened my eyes. The sun had moved enough that it was no longer on my face, and I let my eyes adjust before glancing around the room. I hoped Carlisle wasn't too tired at work; I wasn't even sure if he'd gotten everything finished in time.

.

.

There wasn't much food left in my cupboards, but I was determined to make us both a decent meal for once. The search continued for a few minutes before I surrendered. A supermarket trip couldn't be avoided. I knew it would do me some good, but it didn't make me hate the chore any less than I already did; I really didn't appreciate the stress of the other shoppers.

It wasn't until I'd loaded the bags into the car, and was stuck at a red traffic light to be alone with my thoughts, that I realised I'd unconsciously been shopping for two people on the assumption that my boy would be with me every night for the next week. The idea brought a guilty smile to my face.

Fuck, I loved him.

Seeming as Carlisle would still be gone another few hours and I had to entertain myself, I dug out a new recipe, deciding I may as well put in a bit of effort. We hadn't eaten anything that was vaguely fancy for months – not after we got comfortable enough with each other to not care anymore. It'd be nice for him to come home to, if nothing else.

Time allowed me to make a desert as well. Not long after, he sent me a text, telling me he had to stay another hour or two later, and I became fidgety. Somewhat spur of the moment, I dug out the only table cloth I owned, setting places and sitting a candle in the middle of the table. If I couldn't take him to a nice restaurant for dinner, we could at least pretend for a little bit. It also had me wondering if this all was maybe a bit too cheesy, but if he hated it, we could always forget about it and eat in front of the TV like we normally did.

I opened the door for him as I heard him trying to find the right key, and the look of utter surprise on his face when I confronted him made me chuckle. "How was your day?"

Reaching up to wrap his arms around my neck, he placed a gentle kiss on my lips. "It was fine. What's all this about?"

Squeezing his waist, I pulled him inside. "Well, I can't eat out, so we may as well eat in?"

"You're very sweet," he murmured, slipping his thumb under the collar of my t-shirt to teased the back of my neck.

I smiled, pleased that he thought so. "Come, you need to eat before the food gets cold."

"Okay, chef," he teased, smiling as he squeezed me again before he let go.

Turns out candle-lit dinners were cuter than I gave them credit for. It made us exponentially more flirty with each other, and we managed to find a bottle of wine to share. I was loving every second of it, but by the time we'd finish desert, I wasn't enjoying being on the other side of the table from my boyfriend.

It was decided that a night of movies was in order, and that they best be watched on my laptop in bed rather than the TV in the longue. Carlisle was very much in favour of settling in for the night. It was hard to concentrate on the film through his kisses and teasing touches, but he was obviously too tired to go any further than that.

An hour in, and he'd curled up against my side, starting to fall asleep as I rubbed his back. "Sorry, Gar…I'll make it up to you tomorrow."

"Go to sleep, Carlisle, it's what you need," I assured him, squeezing him affectionately before letting him go so he could get comfortable. Snuggling into the pillows, I wrapped the blankets around both of us, kissing his forehead as he moulded himself to the shape of my body. "I just like having you here."

.

.

I woke up to the sound of rain on the roof and the jug boiling in the kitchen. I was smiling at the ceiling, wondering how the sound of someone else in my house could be so comforting. It wasn't just someone else, though; it was my Carlisle, which made all the difference. I never wanted to live alone again.

It was quite late in the morning, which meant he'd been up for a while. Judging by the book he'd left on his side of the bed, he'd stayed with me for a while after he'd woken up, and it warmed my heart. His side of the bed. Fuck me. Just under ten months together, and I was head-over-heels in love with him.

I sat up, rubbing my face to try and collect my thoughts. My gaze landed on the book again, and I realised it wasn't a novel, as normal, but rather a note book, a pencil dropped next to it on the bed. It was an invasion of privacy to look, I knew, and I wondered how mad at me he'd be if I peeked; he wouldn't show me his drawings, normally, almost embarrassed of the habit.

I kept track of the noises in the kitchen, assuring myself that I wouldn't get caught out if I could hear him. Unable to resist the temptation, I picked it up, crossing my legs underneath myself and setting it in my lap. I carefully thumbed through the delicate pages, biting my lip to keep from smiling; I recognised a few of the scenes as interpretations of an assortment of children's book, similar to what he'd painted on Kate's cast all those weeks ago. They were all perfect, of course, even the ones he hadn't finished yet. I couldn't place some of them, though, but maybe I just didn't read enough.

His voice pulled me from me contemplations, and I glanced up, guilty. "Did your mother never teach you to ask before touching?" His voice was soft, despite his teasing, and he was kind of shy as he approached me. I still expected to be scolded, but instead he sat in front of me, tilting my chin up with his thumb and gently bringing our lips together.

"I'm sorry; I was curious, and you never show me," I admitted, brushing his hair off his face with my fingertips.

"Only because they're no good," he mumbled, glancing down.

"They're perfect, Carlisle," I shook my head, kissing his forehead.

"…I used to want to illustrate a children's book and…"

"And that's what these ones are?" I asked, turning back to the scenes that I couldn't recognise. They were towards the blank pages, so I guessed it was still quite a relevant dream, despite his wording.

"Yeah…" Fidgeting with the edge of his t-shirt, he continued to let me go through it, still quite shy about it.

"You haven't told me about this before?"

"…Because it's stupid…" He nibbled his lip, risking a glance up at me.

I set the book aside, winding my arms around his waist to pull him into my lap, pressing kisses against his neck. "It'll never be stupid, my love," I murmured to him, humming in pleasure as he nuzzled into me.

"Do you want coffee? I can make you breakfast, if you would like?" he asked, wrapping his arms around my neck and offering me a shy smile.

Stealing another kiss, I agreed, dragging myself out of bed to follow him down the hallway. Standing next to him at the bench, I cut and measured everything, while Carlisle heated a pan and pre-set the oven. It was too tempting, but I knew it was making me slow; I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He was still wearing what he had slept in and his hair was messy, continuously falling in his face no matter how many times he brushed it back. It was distracting; he was irresistibly cute like this.

.

.

"Your taste in music is shit, by the way." He nodded toward the radio, not in favour of the station I'd picked, apparently.

I waited until he had set down the plate he was drying – on the pretence of doing this morning's dishes – before grabbing his hands. "That's rude," I teased, pressing a kiss on his forehead.

"I'm doing your dishes," he laughed, reaching up to bring our lips together.

"Hmm, you're a good little maid." I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him into me and taking the tea towel out of his hands, tucking it into his back pocket. "Move in with me?"

"Free labour?" he teased, still giggling.

"Maybe, or maybe I love you and want to wake up next to you every morning." Unexplainably nervous, I smiled anyway, running my fingers through his hair to brush it off his face and get him to look at me. "Move in with me?"

"…Can you tolerate me all day though?" he asked hesitantly, realising I was serious. He glanced up to meet my eyes, biting his lip.

Unsure about his anxiety, I tried to joke with him again. "Carlisle, you're the least annoying person I've ever met. And, I grew up with Eleazar; of course I can." I kissed him again, rubbing the tops of his arms. "Move in with me?"

Carlisle nodded, jumping at me and wrapping his arms around my neck to pull himself closer. "I love you."

Laughing, I squeezed him tightly. "I love you too." Both of us were grinning, and we stood like that in the kitchen for a while, just enjoying being close to each other. I rested my chin on his shoulder, running my hand down his back to shift him closer. "What are you going to tell Alistair?"

"He'll understand," he mumbled into my clothing. "Besides, he spends so much time with Randal and I'm with you so much that we barely see each other anyway."

"You'll have to start having coffee dates with him instead of me," I chuckled, kissing the top of his head.

He laughed quietly and nodded, lightly teasing the small of my back with his fingertips. "We'll see. He's clingy enough that he'll break into your apartment and come to bed with us without permission."

I rolled my eyes. "Our apartment, now."

"I like the sound of that."