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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?

22. Chapter 22

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And don’t rise again,

The steps hurt, and yet I wish there were more to go. Why? Because the door is rung, the knocks sounding into our humble abode, and it is time… for me to leave him.

His hand leaves my waist just as Mother gets the door.

Her embarrassment is apparent, as is its cause. Certainly, she realizes how exceptional he is, and is ashamed that she wears but a stained apron… does she always begin cleaning the instant she steps through the door?

I roll my eyes.

“Dr. Cullen, I can’t thank you enough…”

“Nonsense, ma’am. I thank you for raising such an engaging child and allowing me the pleasure of her charming company.”

Mother glares, a clear sign I am meant to thank him for his kind words. And they may be complimentary, but I feel rather like a slug, an invertebrate discovered beneath his shoe. Did he find me an engaging child while he was kissing me?

The thought makes me clench my fist in something between rage and arousal. I cannot afford such emotions, so strong, before Mother’s indifferent eyes. “Why, thank you for saying so. I do try to honor my dear parents.”

And with this, the game is back on.

“I am certain you will be a credit to them,” he offers.

“I shall certainly try, though I am not sure I can do them adequate respect for what they’ve given me.”

Mother watches with pleasure and pride, completely oblivious to the taunting contest in our words. She doesn’t realize even the most extravagant lies are aught but the truth.

“Well, I do hope you will avoid the treetops in the future.”

“Perhaps it will be easier to honor my father and my mother with my feet on the ground.”

“Just keep my words in mine… I certainly don’t intend to usurp their place in molding your character, impressionable as you are.”

I find an opportunity and lunge in. “But I do hold you in the highest respect, being a man of God and learned beside. I think the week I’ve spent in your company has so expanded my moral character.”

By this point, he can barely hold in chuckles. My face is blue with restrained laughter. “I have tried myself to assist in the Godliness of those entrusted to my care.”

“If the experience of most is anything like mine, I daresay breaking one’s leg is commendable for spiritual health.”

“On the subject of your leg, may I recommend frequent exercise as a parting advisory?”

“I will keep it in mind. Thank you once again.”

“You are most welcome, Miss Platt. Missus Platt, I return your dear daughter to you. I wish you both the best.”

In a sudden gesture, using a second so fast I doubt most people would see it. Mother doesn’t so much as blink, making me believe she in fact did not.

Carlisle scoops my hand up and presses it against his lips. The gentlemanly farewell is exceptionally brief.

Then he turns, and is gone.

Gone, gone, gone…

“I’ll take you upstairs, Esme. You must be tired,” Mother scolds.

I nod.

Gone, gone, gone…

Once you’ve fallen…