For Sobriquett. Happy birthday, bb :) Thank you for holding my hand, reading my crudwhallop, and forcing me to finally write something canon. Love you!

Thanks to Kyrene, revrag and AG for feedback, and mopstyle for the beta.

SMeyer owns Twilight.

The first weeks of my vampire life were the worst of my entire existence. I felt as though I had no control over myself, like I was driven only by thirst, always wanting, needing, more. My thoughts were scattered, unable to be trained on one aspect for long. I was bombarded with sensations: color, light, sounds, thoughts. Slowly, I began to adjust, to be able to show restraint and focus for whole moments.

During that time, Carlisle taught me to hunt, to use my speed and strength to bring down prey, to bite through coarse hair and thick skin and find the pulsing life underneath. He worked tirelessly to ensure I was never tempted by any other way of life.

He never realized I was already aware of what I was missing.

The blood of animals was unsatisfying from the very beginning for me. From the moment I awoke, I could hear Carlisle's thoughts. They were filled with self-loathing as he remembered how much he had enjoyed tasting me. He had never let himself try the sweet nectar that we were designed to be sustained by, and he was amazed by every aspect of it; the taste, the viscosity, he compared it all in his mind to that of his usual diet. Through him, I knew how much better human blood would be to experience, and my lack of control led me to crave it.

I thought nothing of wanting to take a life just to sate my want.

Even now, months after my initial transformation, Carlisle's thoughts still strayed to what happened.

...unlike anything I could have imagined. And the way it felt running through my entire body. I wonder if it's like this with all humans, or if there is something special about him...

We were both reading, but I stopped and glanced up at him when I heard what he was thinking. My movement disturbed the dust particles around me, and I was struck by the smell of my aged surroundings. Carlisle sensed me staring and understanding flooded his face as he looked in my direction.

"I'm sorry, Edward," he apologized. "I'm still not used to censoring my thoughts."

He was embarrassed about what he had been thinking. There was no need for him to be; I've heard it all before. It was shocking at first, but I soon realized that everyone thinks things they would never say aloud.

Carlisle had been aroused while drinking from me. Part of him believed it was just his body's natural reaction to consuming human blood, but another, darker part of his mind worried there may have been another reason.


The shame he felt was palpable, but still, he occasionally indulged that line of thinking. The result was always the same: confusion, curiosity, interest. And whenever his thoughts reached that point, he would wonder if perhaps he was soulless after all—if he was detestable as Leviticus stated.

The dry ache in my throat distracted me and I swallowed in anticipation of the venom. Carlisle was watching me intently as some of his other thoughts slipped through, the ones where he appreciated my features and youthful lips. He quickly realized where his mind had taken him and glanced back down to the page, abashed by his lack of control.

He was learning, as was I, there were much stronger needs now for him than thirst.

After just one line of story, his thoughts slipped again, and I knew he was considering if it was safe enough for him to leave me for a moment. Those trips were infrequent, always taken under the guise of needing to bathe in the stream, and when he returned, he did smell like mild soap and earthen-scented fresh water. Although he could cleanse himself of the traces of what he did when he was away, he could not erase them from his mind. I was all too aware of his need before he left and the conflicting relief and disgrace he always felt upon his return.

His pondering had me intrigued, but only for a moment. Once again, the burn in my throat reached a painful level, and it became harder to concentrate on anything else.

"I think I need to hunt again," I said, already impatient to give free rein to my desire.

"Of course." Carlisle laid his book down and stood, ready to instruct and supervise my feeding.

If I weren't so preoccupied by my blinding need, I may have heard something in his thoughts, but all I caught was the brief look of excitement that flit across his face as we turned to leave.

A/N: Leviticus refers to just one of a number references to homosexuality in the bible. The exact quote is as follows:

Leviticus 18:21-22

21"'Do not give any of your children to be sacrificed to Molech, for you must not profane the name of your God. I am the LORD. 22"'Do not lie with a man as one lies with a woman; that is detestable.

I figure since Carlisle is religious, he probably gives at least some credence to these words.

Sobriquett is an awesome writer/reader/beta in our fandom. She is up in the final round of the Indies with her one-shot, L'Heure Bleue. Go give her your vote for her birthday :)