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11, 15? 🫶🏻 I feel like both are Carlesme coded!

prompt list: #15 “I didn’t realize I was waiting for you until you showed up.”

1921.

“Es,” he muttered against her lips, one of his hands tangled in her hair, the other had slipped under the hem of her blouse and was splayed against her back. “We need to stop,” he struggled to say as her hand drifted further down his chest. The statement fell flat, seeing as his hands did not move from her, his face close enough to her he could fell the air shift as she opened her eyes.

“Why?” She whispered.

“Because I care to think of myself as a gentleman.” He had never wished he could throw all morals out the window as much as he did in that moment. “And I am afraid if we continue I will forget all of my manners. And you deserve nothing but respect, Esme.”

She laughed, and Lord was that a magnificent sound. She pulled away to get a good look at his face, threading her arms around his neck. “I have been married, Carlisle, surely you realize I have been… defiled far earlier than now.”

“Yes, yes,” he smiled gently, pausing before the next thought, weighing the words he knew he ought to have said weeks before. He took a deep inhale, “But I have never… been where we were headed. And I would very much like to wait to… travel there until we… until —” he was struggling to find the next words. The one he wished to use, marriage, held more weight than a ship anchor and would have caused her to bolt like a frightened deer. Instead, he allowed his sentence to trail off, a silence that only lasted a few seconds before Esme spoke.

“You have never…?” She repeated, brows creasing as the weight of the statement fully sunk in.

“No.”

“Surely not,” she laughed, as if in disbelief.

“I am afraid so.”

He was attempting to not take offense to her shock. In the back recesses of his mind he had pondered the idea she might think less of him. Yet, it had been such a fleeting thought, and so unlike her that seeing it come to fruition was disheartening. Perhaps, he should have let her continue. Although, he supposed if he did that at some point she would have been able to guess his history, or lack thereof.

“But you are charming, and kind, and handsome beyond belief. Surely you had the opportunity.”

“I - I suppose I might have, but I never had the desire to.”

“Ever?”

“No. In fact, you are the first woman I have ever kissed,” Carlisle said, attempting to laugh, an solid try to bring an ounce of levity to the scene. He reached for her hand but she had already pulled it to herself.

“Oh God,” Esme groaned, letting her face fall into her hands.

“Esme. Please do not let this change your opinion of me,” he said, in a voice that sounded so close to a plea.

“Less of you?” She looked up at him, eyes wide, and finally took his hand. “No. I could never.”

“Then may I ask why this is upsetting?”

“For all this time you have been waiting for some perfect woman. For two hundred years, and you never found her. And we both know I am not her.”

Oh, he could have laughed. This was her concern. He should have known this would have been her response. The nearly perfect woman who refused to let the monstrosity of the world thrust upon her harden her, who thought the world was still good despite being shown only proof otherwise her entire life. The one who laughed at his jokes, who talked for hours about the book he recommended she read, and was ecstatic to show him the crow’s nest in the backyard. The intelligent, compassionate, loving woman whose ring size he had figured out weeks ago, and whose name was written on an antique diamond hidden away in his desk drawer.

“Why not?”

“Please,” she scoffed, standing from the couch where they had been entwined. He watched as she began to pace around his study, hands busying themself by picking at her frozen cuticles. “I do not think I realized quite how doomed we are until this moment. I had allowed myself to hope — not for forever — but for a little bit of time with you and now… I am sorry, it was foolish.”

“I do not think we are doomed,” he said, crossing one leg over the other.

“I can never be a woman worth waiting that long for. And that is who you deserve, that is who you have been waiting for all this time.”

“Esme, I do not think I have been waiting for anyone. It was never a thought that truly crossed my mind for more than a fleeting moment. And then I met you, and I had not realized I was waiting for you until you showed up. Believe me when I say I you have been most certainly worth the wait.”

“You do not mean that.”

“I do,” he smiled. “And I will spend as long as I need to convince you I mean it wholeheartedly.” He held his hand out in front of him, she stared at it for a few breaths before reluctantly taking it and letting him pull her back to the couch.

“I am sorry,” she said quietly.

“You have no reason to be.”

“I love you.”

“I love you,” he said, meeting the kiss she pulled him into. A much gentler embrace than the last. When they finally pulled away, foreheads resting against the other’s, Carlisle whispered, “and please know I would like to…. with you, but perhaps not an hour before Edward is expected home.”

“You must think me such a tart,” she laughed.

“No. After all I am charming, and kind, and what was it oh handsome beyond belief,” he grinned. She pushed his shoulder, knocking him back onto the couch, but not before he caught her hand, pulling her down into the couch with him.

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