#queue my beating heart

[wastheheart-arc]

@falkenar continued from here.

Esme was usually one for making conversation. If Alistair was around, Esme was often making the home comfortable for him despite his objections. And by comfortable, she merely just wanted to give the man some towels. Immortal or not, showers were a wonderful invention that everyone could enjoy— if he'd stop being so stubborn.

She's not exactly unfamiliar with slogging it out like this. Her childhood was a blur of helping her parents around the farm. Doing everything from helping lamb to heaving piles of hay from one place to another.

Then, when she first settled in Ashland. When the savings she had extended to a room in someone's house before she could move into the small property attached to the school house. What she wasn't prepared for was how this particular excursion would remind her of those things.

She watched Alistair, her eyes almost glazed over. Where he had to feed, Esme found herself unable to even feel the slightest burn at the back of her throat. She had not realised how much her coven had become her home. "That's no worry," she agreed, perching against a dusty, old chair; careful not to exert too much of herself into the simply action should it break.

The light filtering in through the slats placed over the windows finally caught her attention, the wood beginning to rot. "You know you don't have to do this," she eventually murmured, black eyes dragging themselves towards Alistair's face. "But thank you. For trying."

[wastheheart-arc]

@devilsanddarlings || continued from here.

She listened from the doorway to the kitchen, her eyes studying Emmett's face as he revealed part of both himself and his past she had yet to learn. Esme's features softened as her own, melancholy smile touched her lips. Everyone had a past which they dared not speak much about. Most of them were scared to ask others of before, no-one wanting to cause needless pain in recollecting mortal lives which seemed like someone else's memories now.

As Emmett ventured towards the end of his admission, Esme came to join his side. His words caused a sort of soreness, one that Esme refused to address because she found it simply hurt too much. She hadn't gotten to say goodbye either— none of them had.

"I think they know, Emmett. I think the way you treasured your mom's quilt was proof enough how much you loved them." Her hand found his, giving him the gentlest of squeezes. "When I was a child, I insisted that I sleep in the stable," Esme laughed, memories of straw strewn hair resurfacing briefly. "It was always the best place to watch thunderstorms from. The gentle neighing of horses helped me sleep best."

[wastheheart-arc]

@falkenar || Continued from here.

It was bold of her to join him while he was showering, but Esme needed to shower too. It's not like he was hunting alone, after all. And since they had considerably downsized, it was the logical conclusion (that, or waiting until he'd finished… and where was the fun in that?)

So she slipped in, albeit with a smirk playing across her lips. They had been intimately involved for years now; they just had yet to share a shower together. It was something she enjoyed partaking in with Carlisle. Part of her couldn't bring herself to admit such to Alistair, both with the ache of losing Carlisle still present in her chest and the worry he would think her weird for such habits.

Still, her worries slipped away as easily as Alistair's arm did past her, even more so when he pulled her close. Her lingering smirk widened, sighing into his touch and loosely circling her arms over his shoulder so hands could clasp together behind his head.

His kiss enticed a contented sigh, his comments drawing a laugh from her as he pulled away. "Mm, but I have to entertain myself with eternity somehow," she countered, grabbing the soap and allowing it to lather against her skin. As dirty as she was, there was something familiar to mud-caked skin; it called back to her childhood on the farm. "Besides," she continued, offering him a playful glance, "what bad habits were you exactly thinking about?"

[wastheheart-arc]

SFW Acts of Affection

@benefeco asked: [ 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐄 ] (hello & thank you!)

She has been here nearing nine months now. Muscles no longer coil with the sound of the the house's other occupants' footfalls. Of course she still knows whose belong to who, but her eyes no longer scan room walls to identify her nearest exit. She still finds it hard to meet their eyes or dare to talk first, but she more often than not greets them with a smile.

Carlisle always has one to offer in return, one she can't help but notice, especially when she can't meet his gaze. She wishes to, one day; she wishes to see the way his smile finds his eyes and undoubtedly makes him even more beautiful. The thought alone makes her feel giddy, like a schoolgirl who whispers to her friends behind hands while daring to glance over their shoulders, only to avert their attention before her crush can cotton on.

She is sat on an arm chair in front of a burning fire, a book she has already read multiple times settled atop knees tucked into her chest. Perhaps it is intentional she chose that particular book. Vampiric memory means she doesn't have to turn pages, but she does so anyway, mainly to maintain a sense of humanness and aid in a distraction from the company that is Carlisle settled in the chair next to her, a small side table the only thing separating them.

Her peripheral spots his hand resting quite innocently on the arm rest of his chair.

She can't tell if he has felt this shift too. It had been there from the moment she opened her eyes in this life, but it has grown more obnoxious, more desperate to be acknowledged.

It's why Esme concentrates so hard on words she already knows.

Her hand comes to turn the page, but remains lingering in place long after the page has turned. If her heart still beat it would be hammering against her ribcage.

In lieu of that, her thoughts instead race a million miles per minute. All she can do is silently offer apologies to Edward. And, as if to soothe him by silencing the thousands of decisions running through her skull, Esme finally commits in a rare moment of courage.

Her hand finds the top of Carlisle's own, her fingers intertwining with his while eyes continue to flicker across familiar pages.

It will take another burst of courage to admit exactly how she feels, but despite Carlisle's inability to read minds, she hopes this simple, small action portrays that without leaving any room for doubt. The only anxiety now simply rested in his own reaction.

[wastheheart-arc]

continued from here || @reverdies

They've never settled in England, at least that's what Edward's told her. Carlisle very rarely speaks of his own father or his time in this country, and Esme doesn't wish to press him on the matter. She knows the bare basics and that's enough for now. Just as he knows the bare basics regarding Charles and the child she once had. He will tell her more when the time is right, just as she will tell him more when it feels natural to do so.

They could have chosen Scotland, Wales... even Ireland, but the north of England was simultaneously both familiar and just far away enough for Carlisle to feel comfortable settling in England. For the first time in Esme's life, she truly felt like a new woman. Even with her new surname, their proximity to Ohio had made it hard to sever herself from her life before; the woman named Evenson.

They eventually managed to put roots in Ashworth. It was a lovely little place, the weather often overcast if not rainy which offered perfect cover. The village was surrounded by plenty of woodland which was home to a healthy deer population. It's where she stumbled upon this young man.

She had intended to hunt, but while this man occupied these woodlands, she couldn't risk it. Instead, Esme lingered in the tree line. She was aware both of the man and the encroaching sunlight. That was the issue with England; as miserable as it was the majority of the time, it was equally as unpredictable. In her surprise at meeting another creature so far in these woods, Esme wasn't exactly making and effort to conceal herself. Still, she was still surprised to be noticed.

She remained standing in the shade, her eyes dark with thirst but a smile greeting him nonetheless. Of course she would not dare interrupt the boy, especially in religious matters. "I can't say I've been to church since I was a girl, but I must admit your sermon is very impressive indeed." In a way, it was almost as if she was glimpsing at Carlisle's father. "And besides, isn't scripture meant for all God's creatures?"

[wastheheart-arc]

@floripire || continued from here.

Esme is trying her utmost hardest with her coven. It's not entirely their fault; they're taught to be suspicious and wary— not to bring any attention to themselves should they wish to catch the attention of the powers that be in Vampiric circles. That, and the fact that recently they've had trouble with other vampires. It would be fine, but they've got the treaty line to contend with and that alongside this new addition has increased tensions.

At least Carlisle has been as welcoming as Esme. Emmett too, to some degree more than his "siblings".

Esme has taken them all aside and asked them to curb their behaviour. After all, Alice and Jasper had arrived in much the same fashion and they are now valued members of the coven. How can covens form and develop if they deliberately close themselves off to strangers that, in Esme's opinion, form not real threat? Edward and Alice both forget the talents they harbour sometimes; if Floribeth has less than savoury intentions, it's not like her coven won't know.

"I've never enjoyed it either," Esme agrees, her eyes resting on the other's face as she speaks. "But unfortunately life demands it of us sometimes. It's just a moment, nothing more. Although I understand how a moment can feel akin to eternity, too."

Esme paused her own work when noticing the frown lining Floribeth's features. Esme had assured her she could stay, the fall out was on Esme's shoulders alone. If anything, she didn't want the younger woman struggling alone. "You haven't made anything more difficult, I promise. Those crusty Italian vampires are the cause of everyone's suspicion, but once they realise everything's okay, they'll soften up. We, like most covens, are simply set in our ways."

Her gaze travels back to her laptop screen as she picks up where she left off, her tapping fingers filling the silence. That is until Floribeth says that, and Esme's laptop screen is closed in a blink of an eye.

"Hey, hey... you can go if you really wish to. No-one is tying you here, but don't go because you feel as if you're a problem. It couldn't be further from the truth!"

She doesn't expect her words to mean so much (a classic case of underestimating herself as usual), but nevertheless, Esme is there to offer the other a meaningful, tight embrace in return. "No need to thank me, dear. Life, immortal or not, would be much kinder if we all simply looked out for one another."

[wastheheart-arc]

[  nap  ]  sender  falls  asleep  against  receiver

@rosefromdeath (thank you!)

Their youngest had just started kindergarten. The experience was new to everyone. Carlisle and Esme were adept at scouring high schools and colleges, but not elementary schools. In fact, the prospect of Gabriella starting school at all caused a nervousness in Esme that she hated to acknowledge.

It was going to come round eventually, but she still remembered holding that tiny baby in her arms for the first time, smitten and a feeling of finally being needed. Sure, the coven needed her in other ways, but this was the first time someone fully depended on Esme for every single one of their needs. It also helped her heal the wound that losing her son left.

She also couldn't help thinking about just how much less Gabby would need her as she continued to grow. There was a bitter sweetness with that realisation, but Esme couldn't help the way it also invited a sense of an identity crisis. Hopefully, Gabriella's growing independence would invite Esme's own sense of self once more.

Still, as much as Esme felt her identity had disappeared simply into the role of mother, Esme also recognised how incredibly blessed and lucky she was to have such a role. Right now, as five year old Gabby (still fully dressed) fell asleep slumped against Esme's arm, Esme couldn't help but cherish the moment.

Someone clearly had fun today; no wonder she was completely burned out.

Esme let her remain there for an hour until she scooped the small girl into her arms and placed her in bed, pyjamas on and the bear Emmett won for her securely under her arm. Usually she'd enjoy a story too, but that could wait until tomorrow, now.

She placed a kiss against Gabby's forehead, whispering a soft goodnight before turning her nightlight on and letting her daughter dream about all the fun she had today.

[wastheheart-arc]

@ac1num || continued from here.

Esme can't pretend she's not scared, either. It wouldn't do anyone any good if she pretended that everything was fine; sometimes the bravest thing to do was admit your fears, no matter how terrifying it felt. Her hands offer Alice's a squeeze in return, Esme's own, unsure smile finding her lips in reply to Alice's own.

"I wish I could say yes," Esme replied, her own doubts causing her gaze to fall to the floor between them. "I wish I could assure everyone that we'll come out the other side unscathed, but the truth is that I don't know. No-one can, not even you, my dear."

A shaky exhale followed, Esme's fingers briefly coming to brush through Alice's hair before her arms fell to her side again once more. "But despite not knowing, that doesn't mean we can't try, right? That's all we can do, and historically, something we're incredibly good at, no?"