la belle dame sans merci | carlisle cullen

65

Carlisle was world class at letting the rest of his problems fade into the background when he was at work. When he put on his lab coat, his problems tucked themselves away. He'd work around the clock if he could do so without arousing suspicion. So he'd spent the most amount of time he could at the Hospital to cut down the amount of time he would inevitably spend wallowing in his study.

It made him an easy man to find but it wasn't often someone beyond the hospital sought him out. Not since Minerva's radio silence had begun, anyway.

It'd been a week since Alice had been forgiven and hope began to truly pollute his chest. Carlisle found it infuriating. His brain knew his hope would only lead him to disappointment but his heart was persistent, it sung her name every chance it got.

When he got a call saying someone was looking for him, the chorus of his cardiovascular system rose to a fever pitch. He tried not to seem crestfallen when it wasn't her face that peeked with a light knock at the door. A head of short, curly brown hair leaned in the slightly ajar door.

"Do you have a minute?" The woman asked. Carlisle had seen her before, only on a couple of occasions. She worked at the Lodge as a waitress and bartender, her name was a little foggy but he was sure enough to have a go at it.

"Of course," He summoned a smile to his lips, "It's Dana, right?"

Her face lit up in a smile, "I wasn't sure if you'd remember me. This'll seem a lot less bizarre then."

Carlisle's eyebrows furrowed a tad, his smile unmoved as he gestured to the chair across from him. "What can I do for you?"

Dana fiddled with her purse, shifting uncomfortably in her seat, "I'm, uh, I'm getting married." She was losing him. His mind traversed down every possible medical avenue in which that would be relevant. Fertility was his guess.

"Congratulations." He smiled lacing his fingers together on his desk.

"Yes, thank you, erm.." she opened her purse, reaching in to produce an envelope to extend to him, "I'd like to invite you. I'm sorry it's short notice, I was kind of expecting that you'd be someone's plus one."

Carlisle felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. The kind of human punch they show in films that knocks the wind out of you, folding you in half to get your bearings. "That's very kind." He took the invitation tentatively, turning it over absentmindedly in his hands to examine the embossed flowers printed on the envelope. "There's actually a reason I'm not somebody's plus one." His lips flickered upward as he put the same emphasis she had on somebody. "I don't want to make her uncomfortable, nor would I ever want to bring tension to such an important event."

Dana rolled her eyes. "I don't think either of you are the type to get into a screaming match in the middle of the venue." She said with a pleasant smile, seeming much less nervous now that she'd gotten the inviting out of the way. "Besides, I already interrogated Minerva about it. I think it'd be a good opportunity to mend fences. She seemed pretty sorry."

Carlisle stammered for a moment. His mouth wasn't cooperating with his brain. "She looked sorry?" It came out as flabbergasted as he felt.

"Oh, well.." Dana looked away, the realization that she'd probably just put her foot in her mouth making that discomfort crawl back into her posture. "She just said she blew something out of proportion. She's a pretty tough egg to crack."

The very distinct need to run twenty laps around the hospital was making his leg begin to bounce under the cover of the desk. It was lucky it was concealed or he'd have some explaining to do about the speed.