𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 ➻ 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧

𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆 𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻

THE CALM OF THE VILLAGE WAS ALMOST TOO QUIET. The kind of silence that made it feel as though the world outside had forgotten they existed. For a time, it had been exactly what they both needed: the break from the chaos, the noise of the world, the weight of everything they had left behind.

But as the days wore on, a subtle undercurrent of unease began to settle between them. Carlisle was no longer just the steady, composed figure he had once been. The occasional furrow in his brow, the longer hours spent staring into the distance, the quiet tension that seemed to linger in his eyes—it was becoming too familiar. Anastasia had noticed it, though she hadn't asked him about it. She could sense the pull of his past—something that had always been a part of him, something that he couldn't leave behind no matter how hard he tried.

And then, one evening, as the sun dipped low over the hills and the cool breeze swept through the trees, everything shifted. Carlisle was in the living room, his phone in hand, his face set in a tight expression that made Anastasia's pulse quicken.

"What's wrong?" she asked, stepping into the room from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a tea towel. The faint scent of her dinner still lingered in the air, but the moment was anything but peaceful.

Carlisle didn't look up immediately, his gaze fixed on the screen of his phone. The seconds stretched into minutes before he finally exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly.

"They've won," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Anastasia's heart skipped a beat. For a moment, she didn't understand. "What do you mean? Who won?"

"We did," Carlisle replied, looking up at her at last. His eyes were filled with both relief and something else, something darker. "The newborn army... they're defeated. The battle in Forks is over."

Anastasia's chest tightened, a strange mix of emotions flooding her. On one hand, the relief was palpable. The Cullens had survived, and she knew that meant they were safe, that they would be safe. But on the other hand, the thought of returning to that world, returning to Seattle, to the life she had left behind, it made her stomach twist.

Carlisle's eyes softened, as though reading her mind. "It's over, Anastasia. The danger's passed."

"But you'll go back, won't you?" The words escaped her before she could stop them, a question she hadn't meant to voice.

Carlisle nodded slowly, his gaze distant as a frown settled upon his angelic features. "We both will. There's nothing for us here. We'll return to our lives, back to what we now know."

Her heart sank. There was a part of her that wanted to argue, wanted to tell him that they could stay here, that they could make this work in their quiet little corner of the world. But she knew it was unrealistic. Carlisle's ties to his family, his duties, his responsibilities—they were too strong, too ingrained in him. This small village had been a temporary escape, nothing more.

Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing—something deeper. The time they had spent here, away from the world, had created a bond she hadn't expected. She had started to allow herself to trust him again, to believe in the possibility of what they could have.

But that life was always fleeting. Just like the life she had tried to escape before.

"Do you ever wish..." she began, but the words faltered in her throat. "Do you ever wish we could just stay here, away from everything else? No fights, no danger, no past catching up with us?"

Carlisle met her gaze, his eyes soft but filled with an understanding that made her heart ache. "I do. Every day. But our lives are too entwined with what's come before. We don't get to escape it. Not completely."

"As much as I hate it, you've begun your new life in Seattle, and my family needs me. And I know you can't go back to Forks after what happened..."

Anastasia felt a lump form in her throat, her chest tightening as she looked out the window, where the last rays of sunlight were disappearing behind the hills. The stillness of the moment, of everything they had built here, felt so far removed from the storm that awaited them back home.

"I wish I didn't feel like this," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Like I'm losing something that I didn't even realize I still wanted."

Carlisle stood up, walking over to her, and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with uncertainty.

"You haven't lost anything, Anastasia," he said softly. "The life we've have here, the peace we've found... Although it was only for a short time, it's still going to be a part of us. And we can carry it with us. We can remember this time, the quiet moments, even when we have to go back."

"But it won't be the same," she murmured, shaking her head. "It'll never be the same, will it?"

"No," he said, his voice steady but filled with regret. "It won't be the same. But that doesn't mean it's over. We're different now. We've both changed, and that's something we can hold onto."

She closed her eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath. There was so much pain in the world they were a part of: the constant danger, the separation, the impossibility of a normal life. But Carlisle was right. They were different now. The quiet time they had spent together in this place had changed them, even if it felt fleeting.

Carlisle turned toward the door, glancing back at her. "I'll make the arrangements to return. But we'll do this together. Whatever happens next, Anastasia, we can still face it side by side."

She nodded, the words caught in her throat. She wanted to argue, wanted to scream at how unfair it all felt, but she knew that even if they went back to Forks, to the danger and the chaos, things would never truly go back to how they had been. There was no going back—not completely.

And yet, despite the fear and the hurt that lingered between them, a small part of her felt a spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, they could rebuild something from the wreckage. Maybe they could start fresh, even if it was in a world that was anything but.

Carlisle left her standing there, the weight of everything still heavy in the air. As the darkness of evening settled around them, Anastasia found herself wondering what the future held. What would it be like to return? Would she still be able to find peace, or would it slip away like sand through her fingers, leaving her grasping for something she couldn't keep?

She didn't know. But one thing was clear: she wasn't ready to lose the quiet they had found. Not yet.