CARLISLE & ESME - First Kiss (from a larger fanfiction story I wrote, but I love this chapter)
Carlisle had been working the night shift regularly at the hospital. It was the ideal situation for him, and when asked if he would prefer moving to days he declined. On days he worked double shifts, that he typically enjoyed, the hours seemed to drag. His mind was pulled back to Esme and all of the hours he could have been spending doing anything, or nothing at all, with her.
"Hey doc," his co-worker and a doctor of over two decades said, approaching him from behind.
Carlisle turned and me the smile of the middle-aged man beside him. "Dr. Williams."
"You're a hard working, kid you know that? Smart too," he began, "Don't burn yourself out."
Carlisle smiled, "What do you mean?"
"You haven't taken a single day off in over a week. You're working double shifts," the man shrugged, "Go on a vacation or something."
He laughed and recognized that it had been awhile since he had a day off.
"And nights for over a month," Dr. Williams added, "I don't know how you do it. Tell 'em to put you on days. You've earned your keep here. You've got to have a little seniority."
"They offered," Carlisle told him, "I don't mind working nights. It fits my schedule quite well."
The friendly older man slapped him on the back, "Well, I suppose it's about time you got yourself a girl my friend."
Carlisle would have typically laughed and not cared about his co-worker's suggestion. He smiled and chuckled politely and shrugged. Thoughts of Esme ran through his mind and he looked at the old doctor. "I suppose you're right."
Esme sat alone in her room, hearing Edward reading silently aloud to himself in a tone no greater than a whisper from elsewhere in the house.
This life is quite incredible, she thought to herself. I can hear him reading at a whisper from so far away. I can hear him so clearly.
Edward spoke a little louder just to tease her, and Esme smiled to herself, knowing he could 'hear' her too, in a sense. When he went back to his quieter reading style, she began to thumb through a book that Carlisle had let her borrow. It was a fiction novel, something that provided her with more entertainment than information. Sometimes she preferred those types of readings, getting lost in the characters' stories of love and conflict and drama. Esme loved Shakespeare for that reason, and thought maybe one of his stories would be her next source of late night amusement.
She glanced over at the empty space in the bed next to her and thought of Carlisle sitting there instead. She began to daydream of him going over parts of the book with her, and pointing out flaws in the storyline, linking his arm around her, cuddling next to her while they talked and kissed until the sun came up.
Upstairs, Edward cleared his throat and she sent him two telepathic messages. I'm sorry Edward... Stay out of my head!
Esme smiled again when she heard him giggle childishly and tried to focus on the words on the page. She couldn't help but feel a sense of loneliness. It was the first time it really weighed on her. The empty spot next to her was like a giant reminder that Carlisle Cullen was not her husband, or even a serious love interest. He was a part of something that she might never have; a fantasy.
She suddenly realized that one of the fondest moments of her imagination was waking up in a sleepy morning haze next to him. We don't sleep, she reminded her self. It was something she was still getting used to. So, why even have a bed? Esme answered the question in her own mind the second she pondered it. She waited for Edward to make a comment as her mind went strait to the gutter, but thankfully he didn't say anything.
The front door opened and closed, making her uneasy. She knew Edward was in his room. She could hear him turning the pages. Carlisle was at work. Who was entering through the front door of the house?
Well if it's an intruder, I could always eat him if he attacks me. She almost laughed to herself at the private joke, but thought just after how sick the thought truly was. Edward laughed loudly upstairs, and she knew he found amusement. His calm demeanor also let her know that there was no threat, and soon after she sensed that it was Carlisle who had come into the house.
Esme leapt out of bed, readjusting her hair as she stood up. She wanted to greet him the way a wife did her husband after a long day at work. She wanted him to tell her about his day, and confide in her about his problems. She would have like to make him dinner, but hunting would be an acceptable substitute for that. She wanted him to hang his coat and turn and kiss her.
All these wants, she thought, am I not the most selfish woman?
Esme turned and looked out the window of her bedroom, having heard a graceful thump just outside. Edward had leapt from the upstairs window and was heading towards the woods.
She suddenly felt overcome with waves of anxiety. There had been plenty of times that she had been alone with Carlisle, but her imagination, the book she had been reading and just the fact that it was middle of the night made her whole body tense up.
It's not healthy to desire a man to this level.
Esme opened the door and decided to pretend she hadn't seen Edward leave the house. She would go up to Carlisle and casually ask him about his day. He would give her minor details before smiling and heading into his office. Their routines, thus far, would not be broken.
Carlisle let the doctor's words at the hospital replay in his mind. It's about time you got yourself a girl.
He thought of how long he had actually waited for someone like Esme to come along.
No, he thought, Not someone like Esme. Esme. I've waited for Esme this whole time.
Carlisle took in all of the aspects of the situation; the fate that he had been the one to find Esme; that she hadn't died from the fall off the cliff; that they happened to be in the exact same place at the exact same time to find each other again. The way her hand felt in his when he helped her up from the ground, or on a rare occasion where she took his hand instinctually when taking a long leap. All of those things felt right. Everything felt right with Esme.
Do it, he told himself. Tell her. Do something.
"How was your day?" Esme asked, rounding the corner.
Her presence took him so off-guard that he almost jumped back.
"Or your night, I should say," she corrected.
Carlisle realized his mouth hung open just slightly, and he wanted to answer her question with something simple, but he couldn't.
Talk, he urged himself. Say something.
Esme could see that he was off, "Did something happen?"
"Not out of the ordinary." Carlisle took a deep breath that he was unable to hide.
Esme looked up at him, and her expression changed. She could see that there was something on his mind that he needed to let out.
Do you want to go for a walk? He contemplated asking her. Should I just extend me hand and see if she takes it? Should I ask if she needs to hunt?
"Are you sure you're alright?" she asked, softer in her tone.
"Um... well..." Carlisle hated feeling so lost for words. It was perhaps more uncomfortable than thirst before he learned to control it. At the same time, he embraced the feeling whole-heartedly, recognizing that it made him feel alive. More specifically, she made him feel alive.
Esme took a step in his direction. "You can talk about whatever it is. You always listen to me, I should return the favor."
If she could just read my mind right now, this would be a lot easier. At least she'd know, and I wouldn't have to say it. Stop being such a coward. You're a grown man... almost three hundred years old to be more specific. Do it; say it, tell her!
Carlisle held his hand out in front of him, and was about to ask if she would accompany him for a walk. When Esme's hand slipped perfectly through his, however, he froze.
Esme looked deep into his eyes. "What is it?"
Carlisle opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn't. He couldn't get himself to say the words he was feeling.
Esme was only a few inches away, and she still stared up at him; her golden eyes burning into his. Their hands were still entwined and she nearly jumped on him when his hand squeezed hers.
She looked down and didn't think, but met his gaze again and hoped she wasn't misreading the situation.
Carlisle's thumb danced his circles over the top of her hand. He didn't even realize he was doing it until he stopped himself. "Esme, I..."
Esme felt his hand shake slightly. She was trying not get ahead of herself, but before he spoke another word she felt as if all of her wildest dreams were about to come true. She was standing with Carlisle Cullen, the man of her dreams, and he was gently rubbing her hand, a contact that he had initiated. He was at a loss for words and hadn't broken eye contact with her.
"Tell me, Carlisle," she urged. The anticipation was far too great. If he said anything other than what she was now hoping for, Esme would be crushed; completely crushed. She hadn't been expecting the night to take her where she currently stood. She hadn't even expected him to be home until the morning. Now, the way things had panned out in those last several minutes, she was anticipating her dreams to come true.
Carlisle pushed his doubts to the back of his mind. If she didn't feel for him in the same way, he would get over it... he thought anyway.
I got past the cravings for human blood. I can get over anything. He second-guessed himself. I don't believe the two situations are even comparable. No, I don't know what I would do if Esme didn't feel the way I feel.
She moved just slightly closer to him, trying to be subtle, though he clearly picked up on it as he looked down.
The silence was becoming a horrible, deafening menace. It loomed around both them, stopping him from professing his deepest feelings to the woman in front of him.
She still looked at him, and he felt her small dose of confidence beginning to fade. The look on her face owned him, and without thinking he slowly pulled her into a hug against his body.
Esme wrapped her arms around him, closing her eyes as her face his chest and his scent showered over her.
God, I could hold him forever, she thought.
Carlisle felt the tight nature of her embrace. He didn't know what he would do next, though when he loosened his grip just slightly the two of them made eye contact. His lips lingered just an inch or two from hers and without even thinking, he brought his lips down to meet hers, feeling her push up onto her toes in order to speed the process along.
Esme felt a rush of butterflies rushed through her chest, and down every limb of her body.
I'm dreaming! I'm dreaming! I'm dreaming! It's not true, vampires can sleep... because I'm dreaming.
She moved her lips in perfect unison with his and tried to suppress a quiet moan as his hand rested gently on her cheek. Esme wished the moment would never end. She had never felt as passionate as she did right then.
Carlisle kept his eyes closed, completely overcome by the moment. He didn't know what had come over him, and he didn't care. When he felt his tongue collide with hers he wondered if he had crossed a line. He intended to ask for her permission first. He didn't intend to be so forceful. He didn't know for sure if she was okay with the action he had taken until he felt her pull his body closer against hers so there was no room in between the two of them.
He finally found the strength to pull himself away, though acknowledged that he could have carried on without question or remorse.
Carlisle fully separated himself from her so there was no contact of any kind. He looked away for a moment, before putting his hand over his mouth and looking Esme directly in the eye. "I'm sorry."
She stared him in disbelief. "Sorry?"
Carlisle raised his eyebrows, "I don't... I don't know..." He looked at Esme's confused, yet pleased look. She appeared as though she was quite possibly experiencing more emotions than he was, if that were at all possible. "Esme," he said, "I... my feelings for you are..."
Esme waited for him to finish the sentence but when he didn't, she decided to go with the lead he had taken. She took the few steps toward him that he had taken back to create distance and eagerly pressed her mouth to his again.
He didn't let go this time. He didn't wonder if she was offended by his bold action, or if she had doubts, or if it was Edward who had struck her attention. Carlisle could feel in her embrace that she felt exactly the way he did.
He pulled his lips from hers just for a moment, and kept their foreheads touching with his eyes closed. Esme's breaths landed on his face. He was going to tell her he had feelings for her, but a sentence with far more depth escaped his lips. "I love you."
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