sheisourheart: (Awash in Caramel Waves)
[personal profile] sheisourheart
It's impossible to say the first night is the worse. Or the week following.

Carlisle had all but literally shut down when the door closed, that first night.

Then he'd demolished the piano bench on the second day, when she hadn't been sure he'd move at all. She hadn't been in the room, but she'd come back to him staring at the mess on the floor and in his hands. The only words he'd spoken that whole day, being a retort 'Did you want to sit there?' when she commented on it.

Whatever she'd said after that was lost on deaf ears, but she'd cleaned it up and sat by him.

Day three and four and five were remarkably alike. She didn't leave the house because there was nowhere else she would go while he wasn't leaving. He let himself be led, but didn't do anything specifically. Even when he'd rise as though with intention it seemed to get lost before anything ever made it.

She spent much of her time on those day reading to him from a book. Any book nearby that she hadn't seen Edward reading recently or heard them talk about (and how rare that was). Never once saying she felt like her mistake had helped lead to this, not giving voice to her own inner world of emotions that rocked both the leaving and the left. The house, even full of her voice, was not the expression of her sorrow or anger, both of which turned over each other daily.

When Monday came and she found him again in that chair looking out the window, blank of any receptive thought toward it, she'd bit her lip and walked in quietly. A hand curved gently around the crook of his neck and shoulder when she kissed his temple, saying softly, "It's a lovely sunrise."

Date: 2009-08-29 02:23 pm (UTC)
ofthefamily: (at the patient's bedside)
From: [personal profile] ofthefamily
"So it is."

For them it's empirically correct, so Carlisle has no problem agreeing to it.

He doesn't look up at her.

Date: 2009-08-29 02:32 pm (UTC)
ofthefamily: (dark hair)
From: [personal profile] ofthefamily
"No."

It hasn't been going on that long, all told.

"What will you do today?"

Esme is his wife. Carlisle has responsibilities to her, if nothing else.

Date: 2009-08-29 02:44 pm (UTC)
ofthefamily: (Dr. Cullen and his son Edward)
From: [personal profile] ofthefamily
"I'm not sure I should."

Work requires focus.

Work requires caring.

And he couldn't help Edward, so --

Date: 2009-08-29 02:53 pm (UTC)
ofthefamily: (much older than 23)
From: [personal profile] ofthefamily
Short, "Want me out of the house?"

Date: 2009-08-29 03:11 pm (UTC)
ofthefamily: (difficult decisions to make)
From: [personal profile] ofthefamily
He should move.

There are people who need him, Esme says.

The guilt in his throat tastes different now.

"Sorry. For not being...companionable." Carlisle swallows roughly. "I just -- I don't know -- "

Date: 2009-08-29 03:24 pm (UTC)
ofthefamily: (empty chair in a box of a room)
From: [personal profile] ofthefamily
Esme is close enough to him that his hands have nowhere to go but at her back, her knee, supporting her in his grasp even if he didn't ask for her to be there.

"I was wrong."

He doesn't elucidate, choosing instead to curl his chin inward against the crook of Esme's neck, hiding there.

Date: 2009-08-29 03:47 pm (UTC)
ofthefamily: (lonely eye)
From: [personal profile] ofthefamily










"Why am I having such a hard time believing you?"

Date: 2009-08-29 04:00 pm (UTC)
ofthefamily: (pain)
From: [personal profile] ofthefamily
"He said I was keeping him from what he was meant to be. I...he always could've left."

It's the truth -- he could have left in the very beginning, before Europe. When he explained how he lived his life, Edward could have looked at Carlisle and ran as fast as he could in the opposite direction.

Maybe that's what it is.

Edward always made Carlisle feel as though he were still with them of his own accord.

Carlisle doesn't deal with lying very well.

Date: 2009-08-29 04:14 pm (UTC)
ofthefamily: (family crest)
From: [personal profile] ofthefamily
"He may never come back."

Date: 2009-08-29 04:29 pm (UTC)
ofthefamily: (in bed with someone)
From: [personal profile] ofthefamily
"I wouldn't know how to leave."

Carlisle can't quite figure out how to meet Esme's gaze without his whole expression tensing up as though he could shed tears about anything.

He hurt her too, Carlisle's brain tells him -- and no one else overhearing, now, which makes his pained expression stick.

"I know you're here. You've been reading to me."

Date: 2009-08-30 12:26 am (UTC)
ofthefamily: (at the patient's bedside)
From: [personal profile] ofthefamily
Carlisle exhales and it fans out against Esme's hair along her shoulder.

"I know."

It's hard to care about it all. What if --

Wearily, "Do you know where my labcoat is?"

Date: 2009-08-30 12:35 am (UTC)
ofthefamily: (oceans and streams)
From: [personal profile] ofthefamily
When Esme moves to retrieve it, Carlisle's arms stay locked around her without explaining why.

Date: 2009-08-30 12:44 am (UTC)
ofthefamily: (Dr. Cullen)
From: [personal profile] ofthefamily
Carlisle can only nod. Confirming anything aloud would be --

-- well, not useless, anymore, but certainly uncomfortable. Apparently redundant.

Carlisle lets go eventually, letting his wife work him. Pretend to be normal.

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sheisourheart

February 2011

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