la belle dame sans merci | carlisle cullen

26

New Years came fast and busying herself with preparing the shop was a good place to distract her mind. She spent two days cleaning the whole store, absolutely removing every speck of dust manually. She could compel it to gather into a pile on the floor, removing from every surface without hardly a second thought. That would be too fast. So she spent nearly four hours on the ground with a brush, scrubbing the grout in the tile. It was therapeutic.

Moving the flowers was another story. She'd done three car loads before help came like an Angel in a Mercedes. It was total chance that he would pull in just as she was finishing packing the third load.

"Bad time?" Carlisle guesses as he closes the car door.

"Unfortunately." Minerva responded with a smile, "I should have rented a Uhaul or something." Her breath stops dead when he reached out to her. His cold palm brushed her cheek only slightly as he picked a leaf out of her hair.

"My afternoon is wide open." He comments with a smile, letting the leaf flutter to the ground, "Load up my car, I'd love to help."

"Are you sure?" She asked, brows furrowing. "It's a pain in the ass."

"Am I sure?" He scoffs, "Of course, I'm sure."

She gathered the extra large, plastic planters she had waiting by the door and hesitated, to her dismay he noticed. "What is it?" Carlisle asked gently.

Her fingers twitched at her sides, "Well.. I've been, erm, cutting them as I go." Minerva says slowly and he doesn't understand right away. "I don't do it.. naturally."

"Oh." Carlisle realized, "Is- Can I see?" She felt too weird to say no, especially given that he was helping her after all.

"Yeah, it's, uh, it's quick." She assures, picking them up. He follows her to the back yard, stopping next to a line of leafy green plants that she usually used for filler. "Don't.. uh, freak out."

"I promise I won't." He replies. Minerva breathes deeply, crouching down at the end of the line of greenery. She reached her hand out, feeling the warm tingle dance across her skin, growing into a burning heat as it reached her palm. She opened her eyes, thankful to be facing away from Carlisle as she watched the green energy building at her hand. It began unformed, wrapping around her fingers like tendrils before it focused into a ball and then flattened out and began to spin.

Like the shot out of a gun, it went down the line sliding at the very base of the plants. They all fell into the path, one by one until it reached to the end. The energy turned and shot back to her palm, she heard Carlisle's sharp intake of breath as it reached her at full speed only to melt into her instead of cutting through her hand as easily as it'd sliced the stems.

Minerva waited for the heat to subside before she looked up at him, "That's it."

"That's it." Carlisle whispers sarcastically, his eyes wide with wonder, "You're magnificent." Her face flushes and she's thankful for the cold.

"It's hardly me." She reminds, pressing her hands onto her knees to push herself up. Making her way to the grabs two of the planters, "Bet you didn't expect to be put to work when you came here today."

"I didn't but I'm glad I can help." He says accepting one of them from her.

They make easy conversation as they collect the greenery, "Do you want mittens?" She asks after a little bit, feeling her hands especially cold after the warmth of magic died away.

"Erm.. sure. Thank you." Carlisle says with a soft smile. She goes in to grab a couple, tossing them to him when she returns. She slides them onto her own hands only for Carlisle to clear his throat drawing her eyes up to his. He had the mitten on one hand, kind of. The fingers stopped at about three quarters to the end of his fingers, meaning the cinched wrist part stopped about an inch away from the heel of his hand.

Minerva covers her mouth as she begins to giggle, "Oh. Wow, I'm sorry. I didn't think you might have big, freak hands."

Carlisle scoffs, sliding the mitten off and holding his hand up outstretched in front of him. Her heart thundered when she realized what he was looking for. She slowly lifted her gloved hand up, letting their hands press together. Palm to palm, her fingers stopped far from the tips of his.

"I think your hands are just freakishly little." He comments as she drops her hand away from his, "It's lucky you have me it must take you forever to pick these up."

Minerva can only roll her eyes, she doesn't have any faith in her voice to come out steady. It takes half the time to gather it all with his help. She could just whisk it all up but she'd been doing it manually all day and she wasn't about the change that now that Carlisle was here. Besides, the conversation made it go by quickly.

No matter how many times she tried to give him an out he persisted, happy to be of use. Even when it was all moved over, he stayed. Helping her fill the wall canisters with each different species asking questions about every new one he picked up. Even when the work turned logistic, organizing the little labels. He stayed, sitting on the chair behind the counter and filling the silence while she worked.

"What would you like for your bouquet, doctor?" She asks, picking up a four glass vases.

"That looks like more than one bouquet." He comments.

"I've held you hostage for like four hours, you're getting more than one." She says with a slight laugh. "You're getting a bouquet an hour."

"I'm a content victim of Stockholm syndrome." Carlisle assures with a grin, "I don't have a preference."

"You never told me if the boys felt left out about the flowers." She said picking up the first vase and making her way to the wall.

"I don't think so, Emmet and Jasper get to benefit anyway." Carlisle notes, making Minerva scrunch her nose only slightly. The idea of the adopted couples sharing rooms was incredibly bizarre to her. Being involved was one thing but that seemed a little extreme. "And Edward, I don't know." She made her way back across the little shop to grab a fourth vase.

"Well, he's getting one and if he hates it— I won't send another." Minerva decides, "if he really hates it, you can have it."

Carlisle chuckles as he spins in the chair, "You're very kind, you know that?"

Minerva side eyes him, a fond smile rising to her lips, "Says the pot to the kettle."

Carlisle chuckles lightly, music to her ears. Watching him spin in the stupid chair, head leaned back and his eyes closed. She had half a mind to stop the chair dead and kiss him to his wits end.

Minerva forces her eyes back to the task at hand, holding her breath as she tried to find herself again. She knew she was in deep. Deeper with every second they spent together. Still, masochistic as it was, she couldn't bring herself to stop seeing him.