Waltz

Summary: The three most important early events in Esme Cullen's never ending life.

First Movement: Adventure

DC: I don't own Twilight or any of it's characters.

Young Esme Platt laughed, letting the warm evening wind travel through her hair as she pushed herself to run faster. It was never tiring for her to run, or keep up with the boys around the farm. She laughed some more when she turned her head to see the young farm hand slow his steps. "Come on Willie! You've only been running for so little!"

"Oh hold on!" The young boy stopped, setting his hands on his knees. Esme stopped a few steps later, and fell into the long grass, her summer dress falling around her knees. The boy caught up and sat next to her, still heaving from the sprint.

Esme's eyes fluttered open, forest green eyes staring up to the younger man. "Are you alright? I can't let you go home tired."

"I'm fine." Esme smiled when she heard his pride overtake his breathing. "Are you okay? I can't send you home to the master all beat up and hurt."

Esme rolled her eyes. "I'm older than you are. So that makes me stronger."

"You're only sixteen!"

"Twelve full months older," Esme concluded, a smile brushing her lips. She heard Willie's grumble and smiled more victoriously. She watched the setting sun for a moment, before gathering up her folds. "Come on. Race you to the old tree!"

"Why can't you be a lady for once?" Willie got up, making sure to level his breathing. Esme held her dress in both hands counting to four. "You're just so stubborn!" he yelled, sprinting into a run.

Esme laughed and took the lead again. She didn't stop until she reached the shadows of the old tree. She turned around, seeing her home in the distance. Her father would be getting off work now, after the cows had been checked on one last time. Her mother would be finishing dinner and soon the whole farm would be quiet as the evening went on. She looked at the setting sun again, smiling at the scene.

"Not fair!" Willie gasped, sitting on the ground. He leaned back on his hands. "I…I don't know where you get it at…at…all!"

Esme leaned on the tree. "Are you sure you're okay? You're so tired. I won't race you anymore."

"Really Esme. I'm fine." Willie took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

Esme turned to the tree. It was an old, black chestnut tree, its bark withered and stiff. She smoothed out her hand across the edges, finding small footholds and low branches. She grabbed a hold of the branch testing it's strength. She pulled herself up.

"No. Really, not a good idea." Willie still sat on the ground, winded. He looked a little more alert when Esme managed to make it to another branch. "Esme! It's too old, even for your weight!"

"I'm not that heavy!" Esme pouted, testing another branch. She was several feet off the ground. "You can see for miles up here. You should really try it Willie."

Willie relaxed a little, but still shook his head. Esme climbed higher, almost to where she couldn't see him anymore. When she couldn't, she started to hear his yell. "Esme? Esme?"

"I'm here!" She climbed out to the outer edge of the branch. Willie jumped up. "I'm okay. I'm just—"

There was a terrible snap. Esme gasped a little as the branch was broken from under her. She panicked a little, holding her legs straight out as she fell six feet. Her legs connected to the ground, one landing awkwardly and painfully. Her vision, for a moment, turned red, as she gave another gasp. Willie came running over. She looked up, eyes wide. "Go get my father."

Willie didn't underestimate the command in her voice. He started running towards her farm. Esme tenderly touched her leg, a shooting pain then constantly throbbed. She pulled her caramel hair back from her face, as the tears sprung to her eyes. Her chest heaved and her face heat up. The pain was unbearable and she couldn't move her leg. The sun was almost set, and a dark chill ran down her spine. "Willie, hurry," she whispered.

Soon enough she saw her father come running through the meadow, two other farmhands and Willie running close behind.

---

Esme sat quietly on the bed, her leg in a makeshift cast. Her dress was dirty and torn, and she had dirt smeared on her hands and scrapes on her legs. She looked over to her mother who was giving her a slow shake of the head. "You know what I say about running in the fields like that."

"Yes mother." Esme sighed. Her mother patted her hand, and then wrapped hers around Esme's.

"I wonder sometimes if you were meant to be born a boy." Esme wrinkled her face in disgust with that comment, and her mother laughed softly. Soon Esme laughed along, feeling better.

Her father came into the room, eyes stressed with worry. He smiled to his young daughter, sighing. "You're lucky an extra doctor was around. Ours is out of town."

"Sorry dad." Esme gave her best guilty smile. Her father fell for it all the time. "I promise next time to pick a better tree."

"Oh, there probably won't be any tree climbing for you," a smooth voice said. A young blond doctor came into the room, not making a sound. "Not for a few months anyway."

Esme smiled, though her heart pounded inside. He was a beautiful thing, pale, golden and young. He came in and held out a hand. She grabbed it shyly, and jumped from the touch. He was very cold. He smiled charmingly. "Hospitals do a thing for the temperature. It gets dreadfully cold when you're rushing about." He took a step back a little, smiling a white, perfect smile. "My name is Doctor Carlisle Cullen."

"Oh…well…um, thank you for seeing her." Her mother seemed to be having trouble from not smiling. The doctor nodded, and then turned to Esme's father. Her father shook the doctor's hand, too, before the both of them bent over to look at Esme's leg.

"A clean break." Dr. Cullen carefully touched her cast. Esme sucked in a breath, not so much about the pain, but the shooting cold that crept up her leg to her back. "That's a good thing. It'll heal a lot better that way."

He wrote some things down on some papers he had with him before leaving the room. It was silent, Esme hoping he'd come back soon enough to fill it with his charm again. He came back sooner than she thought, though she didn't mind, with a few items to make a real cast. He wrapped her leg up, doing so smoothly and without hardly any pain that Esme thought such a young doctor shouldn't be able to do just yet. "You're fast." Esme said with a laugh. She pulled her dress over her knees.

"I've had a lot of practice." Dr. Cullen smiled at her, melting her heart into harder beats. "Though, usually, it's the boys that come in with the broken arms and legs."

"That's Esme for you," her father chimed in. "More athletic than her looks give out."

"Well you're finished. If Mr. Platt could follow me to sign more papers, and I'll have a nurse come in and give you a pair of crutches." He held a hand out his hand. Esme held it stronger this time, though all it did was numb her hand. "I hope to not see you in the few remaining weeks I'm here, little lady."

I do, Esme thought in her head. She nodded, smiling. "I hope not either Mr. Cullen. Thank you."

"No problem." It was as if almost whispered it to her, the words came out that winded. She shivered a little, but just giggled politely.

Carlisle Cullen left the room with her father, as her mother gathered their things. She watched them leave; hoping the memory of the night would never leave her existence.

---

Hello, Lala Rue here! It's been awhile since I uploaded anything.

This is something I want to get done before my Christmas break is over. I hope it works!

Please review!

Love, Lala Rue!

(Edit: I wonder if anyone noticed I had two different eye colors for Esme. Haha. I fixed it. They should be all green now.)