la belle dame sans merci | carlisle cullen

11

Minerva felt awful, watching Carlisle disappear down the walk until he reached his car. Somehow, she was both thankful and upset that he didn't feel her eyes following him. It felt selfish to want one more smile, to see his eyes crinkle. His company was out of obligation, she had to keep reminding herself. Especially now that embarrassment burned in her gut, their friendship was circumstantial. She'd gone and made it weird. Slipping to tell him just how pathetic he was. Now he would be back out of pity.

She dumped the cup of tea in the sink, watching the green liquid swirl down the drain with a blank expression. "I'm not totally without friends.." She hummed, unscrewing the bottle to pour a golden liquid into the tea cup, "I've got Jack."

It's a weird feeling, as she shuffles back to the porch in the encroaching autumn chill. Percy tumbles along at her feet, jumping into her lap as soon as she sunk into the lawn chair. She stared at the empty space across from her as she drunk deeply from her cup, making a face at the familiar burn.

Carlisle sat there not ten minutes ago. It was bizarre to find that she missed him. For years, decades, Minerva had been totally alone. Seeking no company, no companionship. Tired of saying goodbye, tired of being let down. She didn't expect anyone to ever make her second guess her solitary lifestyle. Carlisle Cullen was a total anomaly.

It felt like a fluke anyway. Not even Carlisle, perfect as he was, could be completely unphased by what she was. It was too good to be true. It unsettled her. Of all things, it was her age? She thought about it for a second. 179 years she'd been alive. At least, she didn't look like it. At least now, he understood the gravity of the situation even if it drove him away.

A cold chill blew through the forest, rustling the leaves and sending goosebumps up her arms. Still, she dwelled. It was nice to know she could still enjoy being around people. Something about it only made her feel worse. She found someone who's company she enjoyed and she was fucking it up. It was for the best anyway. She was an old, crotchety witch and he's a handsome doctor with five kids. Carlisle deserved someone real.

It made her chest hurt. It didn't matter anyway. He wasn't interested, she was sure of it. As long as she could keep herself in check, they'd be fine. Friends was more than enough for her as long as she got to see him from time to time, even if it did break her heart just a little.

Eventually, the cold drove her inside. Percy was already there, crying next to his plate for his nightly wet food. "You eat better than I do." Minerva says, as Percy scrambles between her legs to meet her at the cupboard, "Hold your horses." With her dexterity challenged by the alcohol, she struggles with getting her fingers under the tap of the can. "Here you go, lumpy boy." She says slapping the cube of tuna fillet down on the plate, with a scritch on his butt for good measure, she uses the counter to pull herself up. Bottle in hand, she shuffled through the house to her bedroom and throws herself down ungracefully in her unmade bed, spilling a decent helping of liquor onto her sheets without notice.

When she closes her eyes, he is all she sees. Carlisle's golden eyes regarding her through the darkness, concern painting his beautiful face. "Go away, Carlisle." She grumbles, pushing her face into the pillow and squeezing her eyes as tight as she can muster. His face remains unmoved, watching her patiently in the darkness of her mind until she finally dozes off.

Waking up the next morning with a pounding headache, Minerva was affronted by the smell of alcohol which assaulted her every sense. It made her eyes burn. "What.. the fuck.." she groaned, pushing herself up. Her bed squelched uncomfortable as she shifted, leading her to jump to a horrifying conclusion before she pushed the comforter back to reveal the 40 she'd brought to bed with her laying on its side, totally empty. "Wow." She rubbed her eyes and slowly climbed out of bed, finding herself saturated in the abandoned whiskey.