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The Falling

In the action itself, she is weightless and free. The flight is not to be feared, only the impact. A story on the life of Esme Cullen. Image Hosted by ImageShack.us Banner By incredible Iris!

I may submit this to the official site. What do you think?

16. Chapter 16

Rating 5/5   Word Count 513   Review this Chapter

Twined and falling…

The evening is over, and the sky is dark. Carlisle leads me back to the car. I am not ashamed at my gimpy walk, since it means he is touching me…

He’s old enough to be your father. And he’s leaving you tomorrow forever.

Get over it. I keep telling myself that. Time to get over it.

This isn’t really working. I can’t find the strength to not want to cling to him, but I know if I do I’ll only get ripped to pieces. One week of my life, and something in my essential makeup’s changed so much… he’s a part of me now. He’s where I want my life to go and as much as I know he won’t be, I can’t change that.

We drive in silence except for the gentle hum of the crackling engine. The pale moon gleams above like a pearl, untouched in the sky but for tiny flaws on the surface. The inside is perfection itself, I’m sure. The sky is an inky black curtain, nothing but lack of light for all the miniscule dots called stars. They shine bright, but they are pitiful next to the darkness.

I feel the vibration of the seat beneath me, the perfection of the face beside me… I can’t see it, though it is so near. And yet I can see Carlisle perfectly every time I close my eyes.

The darkness surrounds us, but in his covered car I feel very safe. There is no need to talk, only to listen as the world grows close around us.

We arrive at the hospital. It is eleven at night. This day is over, and I cannot stretch it out any further.

He guides me out of the car, and we lurch forward for the hospital. Just outside the door, he stops me, winding his second cold arm around my waist to meet his other one. “Esme, this is the last time I can ever do this… once we go inside, we have to start pretending this never happened, that we don’t love each other. It’s going to end the minute I walk in that door. So, just so you know… I love you.”

“And I love you.” These are true, true words. I sigh, and he pulls me to him. One last time we kiss, desperately and gently, passionately and chastely. His lips are as cold and smooth as glass, and I can feel him breathing against me… Carlisle, I love you.

I always will.

But it’s over. Everything ends. This just perished sooner than most. Every romance is doomed in the end. Ours just had a championing brevity.

I sigh as he pulls away. “Good-bye, Esme. I love you.”

“I love you, Carlisle.”

These finally spoken words echo in the world around us. He holds the door open and I hobble through, on my own feet. Again, the sense of significance strikes me, of weighty symbolism, but I am too busy tasting the remnants of his breath to bother pondering.

Fall apart…