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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?

79. Chapter 79

Rating 5/5   Word Count 553   Review this Chapter

Just watched you fall,

“Why?” I demand suddenly.


“Why on earth are you sorry? Carlisle? Why would you be…”

He sighs and takes my hand, pulling me from my sitting position to my feet suddenly. “I’m sorry I allowed you to do that. I’d so much rather have protected you, Esme. I wish you didn’t have to see that in yourself, the monster that’s so near the surface for all of us. Oh, Esme, my dearest love, I truly have made a mistake. I changed you. Damned you-“

“What, are you Edward now?” I interrupt. “You think we don’t have souls? Because you have one. I’ve seen it.” I lean in, taking in the glitter of his eyes, venom pooling like tears to burn and sting but never fall. “We are not human. Does that mean we do not live? Does that mean we do not love? Does that mean we have no chance for heaven?”

“Three separate questions,” he whispers.

I lean in, pressing my lips to his. He is stiff, his mouth hard and cold and firm against mine. I touch my body to his for one second and then pull away. “No. The same question. With the same answer. No. We are not human, but we live, we love, we have a chance for heaven. God loves us all, Carlisle. Or do you think yourself so powerful that you could take that away from another of his children with a mere bite?”

He sighs. “You argue theology well, Esme.”

“Of course I do. Now, I’ve got another problem. My guilt is considerably more immediate. But…” and here I swallow deeply, risking one more glance at the girl… at the body. “I can’t allow that to destroy me. To consume me. Yes, I made a mistake. It is a part of what I am, now, the knowledge that I am capable of killing. It will not control me. It will not make me hate myself or turn against you. It will not prevent me from living the beautiful new life you gave me.”

He closes his eyes and tilts his face toward the sky like an angel ascending. Finally, as I wait, staring at him, my eyes caught on the perfect planes of his face, he says, softly, “Thank you, my Esme. You have given me hope.” And then he pulls from the sky to the ground. “I have something to give you.”

My heart pulses in my chest, fluttering hopelessly as he fumbles with his pockets. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him so graceless, and I assume it’s nervousness.

I see the pale silver ring with its trio of triangular diamonds sparkle in the box. He clears his throat and begins to speak.

“My dearest. For so many years, I have loved you. I adored you when you were little more than a child. I missed you through all the years you and I were apart. And now, reunited, I love you more than anyone has ever loved another. I am eternally yours, Esme. Eternally. Please, spend this forever with me. Make it sweet, and beautiful, and shared. Esme Anne Platt, will you be my wife?”

But then he lifts you,