Life As We Knew It

Chapter Eight: Chicago

"We go on foot from here." Carlisle says, killing the engine. He grabs the bags and we get out, blending in with the people of Chicago.
"Follow the people in the dirty clothes and watch your back." Carlisle whispers.
"We can't be Carlisle and Esme out here. Those people are known for being missing. We have to be...Jason and Rebecca." he whispers. I nod. He grabs my left hand and quickly slips a gold band on my ring finger. I look up at him curiously.
"For show." he says simply. I nod, wishing it was real.
He grabs my hand and holds it as we immerse ourselves into the crowd. People walk shoulder to shoulder down the street. I look over and see a group of men in clean navy blue uniforms. I stiffen as I realized who they are.
Soldiers.
I realize that Carlisle had seen them as well as he stiffens and pulls me closer.
"Eyes down. Put your hood up." he whispers. I do as he says and we walk past them casually. The crowd seems to grow bigger and more violent as they push and shove their way down the street. I feel my grip on Carlisle slip and I quickly lose him in the crowd.
I look around, trying to find him.
"Car...Jason!" I shout out, trying to find him. Someone bumps into my back, pushing me into another person.
I feel hands grab my arms and I smile with relief and turn to face Carlisle. Only it wasn't Carlisle. It was a soldier. His name plate read Banks.
"No!" I shout, trying to run.
"Shut up. You're coming with me, Platt." he says, pulling me away from the crowd. He drags me into an alleyway and stops.
"Let me go! Help!" I shout.
"Esme, stop." he says.
"Help!"
"Look at me!" he says. I refuse to do it.
"Look!" he shouts, forcing my chin up. I stare into his brown eyes and smile.
"Emmett?" I ask. He walks me into a building in the alleyway and up that stairs.
"Where are we? Where's Carlisle? I have to get Carlisle." I say, stopping to go back out.
"He is here. Don't worry." he says, leading me up the stairs. We walk into a room where I see multiple familiar faces.
Rosalie, Alice, Edward, and Carlisle.
"Welcome to the resistance." Jasper says with a smile.
"The resistance?" I ask, looking at the hundreds of people here. There has been a resistance going on?
"We will show you to your room. We're a little crowded so you'll be sharing." Jasper says, leading me up the stairs. We stop on the third floor and walk down the hall where he opens a door. I walk into the small room and turn to see both Jasper and Carlisle in the doorway.
"You're sharing with Carlisle." he says. I nod and glance our the window at the street below.
"Are you alright with all of this?" I hear Carlisle ask. I turn and look back at him, Jasper having already left.
"Yes. It's just...I am not this person. I've never been the angry, violent person. This isn't me. And I'm sorry you've met the wrong me." I say quietly. He walks inside finally and closes the door behind him.
"I know exactly what you mean. I hate guns. And I hate killing people. And I don't curse or yell or become angry. I guess the war changes you." he says, walking toward me.
"We could start over." I suggest. He smiles and sticks his hand out.
"Hello. I'm Carlisle Cullen." I take his hand and shake it slowly.
"Esme Platt."
He smiles and I reluctantly release his hand.
"Would you like something to eat?" I ask, heading toward the makeshift kitchen.
"No. Thank you."
"I've never seen you eat, Carlisle. Is that why you're so skinny?" I ask, glancing back up at him. He shrugs and his black eyes look into mine.
"Your eyes....they're black. They're usually golden." I say with confusion.
"Uh yeah. It happens sometimes." he says, looking away.
"I think I'm going to grab some clothes that are a little more me and take a shower." he says, going to the dresser to look for clothes.
"Carlisle, you don't have to keep secrets from me." I tell him as I watch him move about the small room.
"Where is the shower, anyways?" he asks. I smile and point to the curtain in the corner of the room. He sighs and lays his clothing down on the bed before walking to the curtain. He removes the t shirt from his body and then turns to me as if remembering I am here.
"Could I have a moment, please?" he asks, a hint of british slang slipping from his tongue. I nod, still in a daze from looking at his bare chest.
I walk to the kitchen and try not to pay attention to the fact that he is getting completely naked. Grabbing the bread from the cupboard, I spread peanut butter across and glance at the stove. In the reflection, I see him just as he is closing the curtain. I turn around and sigh, feeling my heart rate return to normal as his body disappears behind the curtain. I eat the sandwich and then put the supplies away in the cabinet.
After a few moments, the water stops and the curtain opens. I quickly look away and wait for him to change. The urge to glance at him in the reflection of the stove increases and I can't help but take a peak.
He is slipping his pants over his butt, buttoning them and then turns to look at me. He catches me looking at the stove and smiles. I quickly look away, blushing madly.
"You can look." he says. I turn and look to see him buttoning his shirt up. He tucks it into his pants and puts on a nice pair of shoes with socks.
"What were you like before you were drafted?" I ask him. He sits down on the bed and shrugs.
"I was...I was a doctor."
"A doctor? How old are you?" I ask.
"23. I graduated early and was in my first year of being an intern. So I was becoming a doctor i guess. And then I got a letter and-"
"No I mean what were you like?" I ask.
"What did you do for fun? Did you have family? A wife? A girlfriend?" I ask.
"For fun, I studied. I played chess. I read books. My family died when I was young and I have never felt the need to date anyone."
"Why?"
"All girls are the same. I guess I'm just waiting for someone to catch my eye as well as my mind and my heart." he says softly. I smile at how different he is from the other men i've met. Especially some men. I shiver involuntarily at the thought of Charles.
"What about you?" he asks.
"I lived with my mother. My brother was drafted when the war began so I was left to care for my mum. My father left when we were little. For fun, I liked to read and draw and garden and cook and...sorry. I'm rambling." I say, looking down with embarrassment.
"Never be sorry for speaking, Esme." he says gently. I smile slightly.
"What about you? Boyfriend? Husband?" he asks.
No. No one has ever loved me enough.
"No."
"Why? I thought boys would be lining up for you."
"Oh they were. But not for the right reasons. They just wanted to use me." I say sadly.
"Oh. You...oh."
"I what?" I ask.
"I just thought you were different. I didn't think..."
"Carlisle, I didn't sleep with them. They wanted to but I have morals. I am a vir-"
I stop myself when I realize that's wrong. I'm not a virgin. That was stolen from me. I feel tears form in my eyes and I slowly slide to the ground.
"Esme? What is it?" he asks, standing from the bed and rushing toward me.
"I'm not a virgin." I cry out. He grabs my hands and rubs them softly.
"That's alright. We all make mistakes."
"I didn't...he...I was raped." I say, beginning to panic. I'm broken. No one would want me. Especially not Carlisle. He wouldn't want someone who has been used.
"Who." he says sternly.
"Charles Evenson from the reform school." I say, trying to catch my breath. He wipes the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs and kisses my forehead.
"Esme, shhhh. It's alright. You're okay now. Nothing is going to happen to you. I'm here." he whispers, pulling me into his arms. I bury my head into his chest and dampen his shirt with my tears.
I'm not sure how long we sit there, my sobbing into his chest, his strong arms wrapped around my body while he whispers sweet nothings into my ear. And it's in that moment that I knew.
I loved him.
And I wanted him in the bluntest way. His skin, his lips, his eyes. I wanted to be the girl that captured his heart as well as his mind. I wanted him the way the ocean wants the shore, constantly reaching and running back. I wanted him the way the words want to be written, rain wants to fall, stories want to be read.
And I loved him with all that I am and all that I was and all that I hope to be. And the only thing I could think about, the only thing I long for, is for him to love me in return.