la belle dame sans merci | carlisle cullen

04

It was a few days later when Alice Cullen came bouncing into Little Leaf with a desperate need for some new flowers.

"I'm thinking.. hydrangeas." Alice decided after scrutinizing the wall for quite some time, "with yellow accents?"

Minerva let out a wistful sigh, "I love your mind." Small talk with Alice is easy as she watches Minerva work, occasionally offering her opinion. It's the usual questions: how's school, what's new, when do I get to meet Jasper. Alice hardly needs any prompting to go off on a tangent.

By the time she's finished, there's a beautiful hydrangea arrangement with compliments of silver dollar eucalyptus, dyed baby's breath and yarrow. All the while, watching the girl who somehow has her adoptive father's eyes, Minerva can't take her mind off the drawing in her bag. It's impulsive as she ducks out back to get it, carefully tearing it out and folding it up. She's dimly aware that it's stupid as she emerges with a roll of quarters for the till and the drawing in her back pocket.

"I hope you don't think this is weird," Minerva said, face already turning a shade of red uncommon for her features, "Could you give this to Carlisle? We were talking about art the other day, I thought he might like it." She was glad Alice didn't open it when she accepted the crisp, folded paper from her hand. As soon as the paper was within her grasp, Alice's golden eyes seemed to glaze over and her smile wavered for only a moment before it was back with renewed force.

"Of course." Alice beamed, hoping it was her phone number or some sure fire show of attraction that Carlisle couldn't possibly turn away from. "Thank you again, see you next week!"'

Alice couldn't resist opening it as soon as she got out to her car where Jasper waited. It wasn't like it was sealed or anything. On the simple piece of paper, was a very detailed drawing, a visage that Alice knew instantly. It was Carlisle. Drawn exactly as he'd looked that day in the diner, smiling. No where near the picture of sorrow he'd been since. There was a note on the bottom, i drew this after you left, I hope you like it.

Alice and Jasper exchanged a look. "Do you think she likes him?" Jasper asked softly.

"Duh." Alice hummed refolding the paper, "Carlisle said he didn't make any decisions that day at the diner which means she must have. I'm not going to push anything but I'm also not going to help him avoid this." Alice left the drawing on his desk when they got home and stowed away downstairs.

Carlisle had a long day, to say the least. Vampire or not, he did get burnt out. Even if his physical energy was infinite his mental energy was certainly not. He smelled the paper before he saw it, eyes narrowing at the subtle, familiar scent. His name was scrawled in a particular cursive on the front of the folded paper. He studied her penmanship for a moment before unfolding it. A portrait of himself stared back at him, grinning, beautiful. Of course, all vampires are beautiful but Carlisle had never really looked at himself and thought it before. This was beautiful.

The tremble that began in his hands was unnoticed until the paper began to crumble slightly in his grip. He let it fall on the desk to avoid further destruction. A heavy feeling settled on his chest, eyes closing tight.

Carlisle's hope was she was just trying to be nice. A friendly gift, that was all. Nothing more. She wasn't a vampire, she wouldn't feel the pull that he did. Minnie just wanted to be friends. A part of him wanted that too. Just to be around her would certainly be enough if he could control himself.

A small part of him, a selfish part, wanted it to be more. That part wanted her to feel the gravity shift that he did, like the whole world was tilting just to get him closer to her. If she only felt it the way he did.

Carlisle decided not to mention the drawing to Alice, though it was definite that she'd seen it. She'd want to talk about it and that was the last thing he wanted. He just wanted to forget about it, forget about her.

Alice, however, was quick to ask. "Did you see your gift?" She quipped.

"Yes." Carlisle answered shortly.

"What gift?" Emmet asked, oblivious to the situation.

"The lady from the flower shop drew Carlisle." Alice said smugly, leaning against the kitchen island. He stiffened when she revealed it, throwing a glare over his shoulder as Emmet nudged him.

"You gonna hit that, Carlisle?" He joked making the father's glare turn to him.

"Don't be crude." Carlisle scolded with a frown, "No, I'm not going to 'hit' that. I wouldn't consider it."

Rosalie elbows Emmet in the stomach when Carlisle walked away. What he felt for Minerva wasn't sexual, he wouldn't diminish her to that. She wasn't some conquest. It was so much more. To the point, he couldn't hope to put it into words let alone rational thought.