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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?

20. Chapter 20

Rating 5/5   Word Count 574   Review this Chapter

One last moment,

He holds me by both hands as we walk to the automobile, supposedly to support my broken leg. Of course.

I totally believe that…

I laugh again, and am forced to whisper an explanation in his ear. He joins in my merriness. Ah, Carlisle.

That might be what I’ll miss most of all.

Yet, in my empty life ahead there will be ample time for such musings. My final instants in his presence are not the allocated opportunity. I am just going to enjoy myself. Plenty of chances for morbidity will present themselves, I’m certain.

“Well, I suppose we must go.”

“Indeed. Unfortunately.”

He escorts me to the auto. Again, I am cautiously guided in. There is just a second’s pause before he’s on the other side of me, strapped into his seat, the engine roaring into consciousness.

We have been driving for only a second when he breaks from his deep thoughts. His tone is graver than I’ve ever heard it before as he asks, “Esme, do you love me?”

I answer so quickly I scarcely need to think. “Yes. More than anything else.”

He sighs at that, apparently not relieved from his internal turmoil. “And if I told you… what if you could be with me, marry me, be my wife… forever. But you’d have to give up everything else. Your whole life, your life itself. What would you choose, Esme?”

I sense the secret again. The reason he must leave me has been revealed, albeit subtly, so I cannot sense what lies within it. “You. No matter what it costs me…”

For some reason, these true words seem forced, stiff. I realize how very formal my speech is, how archaic and verbose, the declaration of love in so… awkward a way.

That’s it. It’s awkward.

There is a stiffness in the air between, and though we do not veil the truth, it is coated in insecurity. We no longer know what to say to one another…

Part of it is the power I feel coming from this subject. This is important, desperately so, and I don’t know why. Something says it is the only way this won’t end now, if I find out the right thing to tell him, to assure him I can stay with him… and I don’t know what.

His sigh only deepens, a wide wrinkle furrowing the perfection of his brow. I can see an inexplicable torment in his perfect features.

Finally, I whisper, unsure, “I want you to be happy. I love you.”

“Esme… I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Can’t what?”

“Can’t do it.”

I haven’t a clue what he’s talking about, but I take his hand, marveling again at his cold smooth fingers, and smile. “It’s all right.”

He doesn’t meet my eyes. “No. No, it’s not. And I can’t fix the whole world…”

“You fixed me.”

“No, I didn’t. All I can do is try to be good within myself, and I don’t know if it’s worth it. If I can overcome what I’ve done, what I’ve become…”

What sin could he have committed, that he would lose all hope for his soul? I am burning with curiosity. “You can. I know it.”

His knuckles brush mine. “Thank you, Esme.”

Falling final,