Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight and its characters. No copyright infringement is intended.
All original characters, plots, and the storyline contained within this derivative work are the property of Lazykate. This story may not be reproduced or reposted without permission from the author.
A/N: So when the "stitching-up" scene flashed onto the screen at the midnight premiere of New Moon the entire audience (including myself) all had one thought: OMG, are Carlisle and Bella gonna do it? Unfortunately that didn't happen, but once a pervy mind is set into motion, it's impossible to contain! I wrote this o/s quite a while ago and just now got around to finishing it. I dedicate it to my fanfic-twin-for-life, Brits23, my partner in crime when it comes to all things involving rocking RVs and archiving Dr. McYummy porn.
I'm sure, if I asked, that Carlisle could tell me adrenaline does astonishing things to the human body.
The suddenness of Jasper's attack, Edward's lightning-fast reaction, the aftermath…all events that were most certainly directly related to the numbness I felt at the moment.
The heartbreak that settled over me at seeing one of my best friends run out the door with her hand clamped firmly over her mouth and nose might have something to do with it. The thick warm ribbons of crimson that ran down my upper arm, pooling at the crease in my elbow, resulting in a vague lightheadedness…surely all these things could be chalked up to the adrenaline that was only now filtering out of my bloodstream.
After Emmett dragged a still-frenzied Jasper out of the room with Rosalie on his heels, after Alice and Esme had quickly slipped away, after Edward departed under a direct order from Carlisle to try and calm Jasper down, it left just the two of us. Carlisle had wrapped his cool hand tightly around my upper arm to staunch the flow of blood and, when it became apparent that my legs were too wobbly to navigate the stairs to his office on my own, he gently picked me up and carried me there himself.
He sat me on the edge of a table that he quickly cleared of books and papers, and then retrieved his black doctor's bag. We barely spoke as he began to carefully pick the jagged pieces of crystal from the soft flesh of my arm, dropping each with a soft clink into an antique glass bowl. I asked a few quiet questions, and he answered them in his straightforward way. As much as I loved Edward, I knew that Carlisle was the one Cullen I could genuinely trust to never lie to me.
I pondered over his words as he pulled the last shard of glass from my arm, carefully cleaned and disinfected the area, and then began the process of stitching me up again.
"He loves me, doesn't he?" My words were the first in a while, and Carlisle's topaz eyes moved briefly to mine before refocusing on my arm.
"Yes, of course. But try to understand…imagine if your positions were reversed."
"I do try," I whispered, but I knew my words were hollow. I couldn't understand Edward's point of view, and even as I tried to sympathize, I couldn't agree with it. He loved me, he told me so, but he was completely unwilling to change me. He was willing to watch me age and die, either slowly or abruptly, rather than change me? I was going to die at some point anyway, but he wouldn't even consider carefully planning that event so that we could have forever? No, I couldn't understand.
My arm wavered a little under Carlisle's steady hands, and he immediately took my right palm and placed it against his waist, just above his hip, for stabilization. "We're almost done, Bella, you're doing extremely well. Just hold on to me for a moment more and it will be all over."
His body, under my hand, was so similar to Edward's, but shocking in its unfamiliarity. There was the recognition of cold hard muscle, the slip of marble skin under the expensive material of his dress shirt. At the same time, however, there was the thrill of unknown…my fingers knew every inch of Edward's chest, arms, and face, as they were normally the only part of him that I was allowed free rein over. Anything below his chest was fairly off-limits unless my arms were wrapped around his waist. I was never allowed to touch or explore unless it was on his terms. This one spot on Carlisle's body was new to me in more ways than one, and it felt shockingly intimate.
I ducked my head at the thought, suddenly embarrassed to meet his eyes. It must be the blood loss, the trauma of the evening's events. Of course Carlisle was physically attractive…God knows they ALL were ridiculously beautiful…but he had Esme, and I had Edward. I loved Edward. And Carlisle loved Esme.
The secret childish attraction I'd always felt towards him was nothing more than a recognition of his natural vampire magnetism, combined with his position as the leader of the family. Of course it was normal for me to admire him, to look up to him. They all did. What was not normal was for me to so desperately crave his attention, his approbation…and his touch.
I was unsure where to focus my attention now: I definitely couldn't watch as the needle and surgical thread wove through my skin, I couldn't watch the top of his golden head as he bent over me. In the end, I stared at the fingers of my left hand, clutched in a death-grip on the table's edge, praying for this entire moment to come to an end soon. He carefully clipped the thread of my last stitch and then meticulously dressed the wound, winding gauze all the way around my upper arm. Just as he finished, I heard a faint hum and he pulled his cell phone from his pocket.
"Yes?" He listened intently for a moment. "I understand. Do whatever is necessary. Yes, Bella is fine, I'll take her home myself." He clicked the phone shut but didn't speak immediately, and I finally broke the silence.
"What's going on?"
"Jasper is blaming himself, of course. They're all trailing him now, Alice is terrified that he'll do something…rash. Edward is following him as well, to convince him that he isn't angry."
"Are they coming back here?"
"Not any time soon," he sighed. "Edward said that Alice had a vision of them all bringing him back here first thing in the morning."
It had been Edward on the phone, then, yet he hadn't wanted to speak with me, to hear for himself that I was okay? He was probably angry; after all, he'd warned me all along that something like this could happen. It was my own selfishness and stubbornness that refused to acknowledge it, and now it was all my fault. Yet another fumble on the part of the silly human.
"Bella," I felt Carlisle's cool hard fingers gently lift my chin, and I reluctantly allowed my eyes to meet his. He wasn't the mind-reader of the family, but I was always afraid he would someday see what was written just behind what I considered my "safe" face. The one that didn't betray the stray thoughts that flickered occasionally through my mind, thoughts that made me want to curl up with shame. As his soft golden eyes met mine, his perfect forehead furrowed a little in concern. I could feel the flush start to build up over my cheeks, staining my face, giving me away even before the traitorous tears that suddenly filled my eyes.
"I'm so sorry for all this," I choked out, dropping my head again. I didn't realize his fingers had stayed on my face until I felt his fingertips run gently up over my jaw, then his palm slowly contoured to my cheek, cupping my face in his marble hand.
"Oh Bella," he said quietly, just before he leaned forward and gently pressed his cool lips to my forehead. It was a sweet gesture, kind and reassuring, nothing else. "You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing." He withdrew and began gathering the bloody gauze and towels, piling them all into the glass bowl.
I choked back a sob. If only he knew what I was really apologizing for, the shame that was burning a hole in my chest: Esme; Edward; and yet this undeniable pull I felt towards the man in front of me. Thoughts, desires, and impulses that I always squashed as quickly as they snuck into my brain. At least they'd always just been safely tucked away in my head before, now I found myself alone with him, in a bizarre variation on some of the dreams that had been haunting me for some time.
And those dreams…dreams I didn't have to feel guilty about, because they weren't part of my conscious mind. Dreams of a woman, not a girl, a woman who desperately craved the physical side of her relationship, but who was always denied. Dreams of such aching exquisite pleasure that I sometimes woke gasping with the intensity of it. Lord only knows what I said in my sleep during those times, but I always found Edward had relocated to the rocking chair before I awoke on those mornings. The frustration of it was enough to drive me mad.
Especially since it wasn't always Edward's face I saw so close to mine, his mouth moving over my body. Sometimes it was Carlisle's.
It has to be the adrenaline, I told myself desperately, as the idea of Carlisle's capable hands on my nude body drifted through my mind again. I tried to fight the thought back, but a wave of arousal suddenly shivered so strongly through my body that I could actually feel the warmth gathering between my legs. It was like a punch in the stomach, except that the percussion brought only a pulse of pleasure.
Carlisle's hands slowed in their movements, and in the next second, his nostrils flared and his entire body went completely motionless. Almost immediately my heart seemed to freeze before starting a frenzied hammering. He'd sensed it, of course. Just as he could hear my heart begin to race and my breathing catch, he'd caught the scent of the arousal that was throbbing relentlessly now.
Just go! my mind screamed, but my body refused to obey, and I sat paralyzed, watching him through wide eyes.
He stood unmoving for several minutes more, not even blinking his eyes, although I thought I saw his nostrils flare again once. It crossed my mind that this man, this beautiful man whom I admired so much for his dedication and resistance towards the bloodthirsty nature of his very being, was even now fighting to resist my body in a completely different way. If I turned away, if I made my legs carry me out of his office, if I stiffened my resolve, I knew he would be back in full control of himself. He would be back to that kind man I'd grown to love for reasons other than those that screamed through my body at the moment. I knew the next move was entirely up to me.
He was still standing close enough that we were almost touching, so without allowing any further conscious thought, I reached out to him with my uninjured arm and rested my palm against his stone chest, just where his heart would be madly beating if it could. I touched him carefully at first, and then flattened out my fingers, again thrilling to the touch of that unfamiliar body, skin and flesh I'd never even seen.
He hissed suddenly, startling me, so that my hand dropped down to his hard abdomen, just above where his shirt tucked neatly into his expensive wool trousers. My eyes popped back up to meet his and I was immediately stunned by his expression.
His eyes, so perfect and golden just moments before, were now black. I'd never seen Carlisle's eyes so dark, and I was momentarily stunned by the erotic contrast between his golden hair, pale skin, and obsidian eyes. I gasped and reflexively fisted his shirt in my hand, his flesh hard and unrelenting beneath my knuckles.
"Bella," he ground out, his lips barely moving. "I shouldn't…"
But he didn't move away. To the contrary, he moved just slightly back in my direction, until his hard thigh was pressed against my knee, and there he froze again.
I bit my lip, realizing that we were both teetering on a precipice, dangerously so. And evidently our demise was in my hands, because he hadn't fled yet, hadn't asked me to leave. But he wasn't moving, and I suddenly realized that he was waiting for me, waiting for my next movement.
I knew it was wrong, I knew it down to the very marrow of my bones, but in a sudden moment of recklessness, I just didn't care. There was so much that was supernatural woven through my world now, the normal laws of propriety and normalcy sometimes seemed suspended or completely irrelevant. Or at least that was what I told myself as I ran my hand back up again, over Carlisle's stomach, chest, and then to his shoulder.
Just the briefest flash of movement and he was standing directly in front of me, my knees barely brushing his hips. My hand was still on his shoulder and I let it drift over to curl around his neck, his silky blond hair tickling the tips of my fingers. His lips parted a little as his dark eyes drifted slightly shut. "Bella…" he whispered again. "We can't…I…"
I lifted my other hand now, wincing from the sting of the injury on my upper arm, an unwelcome reminder of how terribly wrong my birthday had gone, of how easily I could have been killed. I reached out and hesitantly touched his beautiful face, skimming my fingertips along perfect cheekbones and alabaster skin, gaining immediate comfort from the connection. "Please, Carlisle. Please just make me feel better."
His eyes snapped fully open, and suddenly both his hands were on either side of my face. "Oh Bella…please forgive me…" And then he was kissing me.
That first moment of his lips against mine…it was like nothing I'd ever experienced, before meeting Edward or even since. There was none of Edward's caution, his careful movements, his gentle touches over me. Hundreds of years of walking amongst humans, touching them, healing them, had taught Carlisle exactly how to handle one and he exploited that knowledge immediately.
There was no hesitation, he was determined and his cool tongue was pressing for entry between my lips. I half-moaned, just a little catch of my breath, as they parted and allowed him inside. So sweet, so sensual, as it tangled with mine and then quickly asserted his dominance. He plunged deeper into my mouth, an intoxicating push and pull of flesh, cool against warm, hard against soft. One arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer to the edge of the table even as his other hand tangled in my hair, holding my head close to his.
My knees parted automatically as he took a step towards me, bringing his firm thighs between my legs. I felt him then, really felt him, a hard brush of arousal against my heat. Edward had always been so careful when he held me; at times I thought I'd felt that same sensation with him. But now, here, with Carlisle, there was absolutely no doubt about the size and rigidity of what he pressed against me. Instinctively seeking the contact and friction, I pushed my hips upwards against him and was rewarded with a guttural moan as he pressed harder.
In the next heartbeat, though, he pulled his lips away and suddenly had my face pressed between his hands again. "Bella," he gasped, and I was completely shattered by the want in his eyes, the desperation in his voice. "I can't do this to you…"
And for just the briefest moment, it was Edward's voice and words I heard. Edward, who I would give my heart, life, and mind to in an instant, but who refused to acknowledge that I too had a desperate need gnawing away inside of me. Edward, who would always awaken that hunger inside me, only to push me away. I needed that physical reciprocation, I needed that acknowledgment of my burning, my ache, my struggle with control when what I ached for so desperately was right there, always tempting me.
I could feel his muscles gathering, his fingers stiffening to push me away and be done with this madness. I knew he was right, but in that moment I didn't care. I knew I might hate myself later for what I was doing to all of us, even if no one else ever knew. I knew that I was wrong, but in the tiny bubble of that exact moment, I was willing to be wrong, to selfish with my needs. And I needed him.
Dropping my hands back to his waist, I quickly wrapped my fingers through the belt loops of his trousers and pulled him roughly back to me. He was caught off-guard, uncharacteristic for a vampire, but when his lips crashed back against mine I knew he had no doubts of my intentions. I sucked at his lips greedily, my fingers wrapping around his hipbones, mutely begging him to grind into me. With the faintest of growls he complied, again gripping me and forcing me against his hard length. My gasp this time was lost inside his mouth, pulling his sweet breath into me, as I arched involuntarily against his body.
He was devouring me then; his hands were greedy but sure over the softest of my curves, his mouth demanding, and his hips pushing insistently into the cradle of my thighs. I moaned and threw my head back, allowing his lips and then the cold wet pressure of his tongue to run along my throat. The feeling of being utterly swept away, of being caught up in a moment greater than myself, one too powerful to fight or deny, was intoxicating. I only wanted him, and so badly that I literally ached for it.
His arm wrapped more securely around my pelvis, crushing our chests together, and in the next moment he lifted me against him and flew across the room. He gently laid me down on the firm leather couch that sat against one wall, his eyes wordlessly begging me to understand. And I did…this brief moment of insanity could never take place in Esme's bed, nor in Edward's room. This place was Carlisle's alone.
He stretched out above me, lips returning hungrily to mine, nimble fingers already moving to remove my torn dress. They were gentle and careful as he pulled it down over the bandage he'd wrapped around my upper arm, and just before he pulled the remains of the fabric away, he pressed a gentle kiss to the wound. There was no bloodlust, no desire in that action, just a sweet apology for the injury inflicted on my delicate human body.
I arched against him again, desperate for the pressure and friction I'd felt earlier, and the moment of tenderness was gone as he ripped my dress from under me. One brief moment of lucidity: I was glad I'd worn the pretty blue matching bra and panty set Renee had bought me for Christmas. I wanted to look pretty for him.
His scorching black eyes moved over me, the tip of his tongue appearing against his upper lip as his gaze came to rest on the upper swells of my breasts. "Bella…beautiful…" His words were so faint, I barely heard them, but they gave me the courage to move. I brought my own hands up and began to work against the buttons of his shirt, slowed by the trembling of my fingers. He pulled back just enough to allow me access, and once I'd unbuttoned the shirt as far as I could reach, I plunged my hands under the cotton, allowing myself to luxuriate in the feel of his chest against my hands. In the blink of an eye the shirt was gone, and the entirety of his chest, shoulders, and back was bare to me. I immediately took advantage of the exposure, raking my fingernails over every inch of skin.
Carlisle growled again softly and began pecking little kisses over my collarbone and chest, interspersed with the lightest flicks of his tongue on my skin. Finally he moved down to where the upper cups of the bra met my flesh, and allowed his tongue to drag along that borderline. I whimpered and pulled him against me by his shoulders, desperately needing his mouth and tongue to explore me more thoroughly.
"Ahhhhh," he moaned softly, easing the straps of the bra off my shoulders. "Bella…"
The structure of the garment crumpled easily under his hands as he pulled it away from my body, my breasts now completely bare to him. In an instant his hands and lips were on them, his lips and tongue paying homage to one hard peak as his fingers teased the other. I wound my fingers into his blond hair, threw my head back, and moaned unashamedly…the feelings he was wrenching from me were absolutely beyond anything I'd ever known. All my desire for Edward, all the innocent fantasies I'd had…nothing compared to the sheer sensation of Carlisle's mouth moving over my body.
His tongue lapped at my flesh, almost desperately, moving quickly over my breasts, to the hard points of my nipples, reverently along the lower swells, and then against my ribcage. It was when his cold tongue slid lower along my stomach and then plunged into my navel that I bucked against him, suddenly knowing exactly what he wanted, and frantically wanting it myself too.
"Bella," he whispered, his words gentle even as his voice rasped, "Please…please let me taste you. I feel as though I've waited centuries for this, just for this…"
I could deny him nothing, and my thighs parted for him as he easily slid down my body, his shoulders forcing my knees apart. Any nervousness or apprehension I may have harbored melted as he gently kissed along my hipbones and then ran his nose lightly up and down my inner thigh, shutting his eyes and inhaling slowly as he did so. "Your body, Bella…so perfect. You're perfect, like an angel…"
I heard the faint rip of delicate fabric and shut my eyes when I saw his blond head dip lower. More cool kisses against my inner thigh, and when I felt the first probing of his cold tongue against my heat, I cried out. I was burning for him, needing his touch more than anything else in the world at that moment. He hesitated, probably testing my readiness, then allowed his tongue to push deeper. This time my breath was frozen in my lungs as he dragged it slowly over me, from the depths of my swollen lips to the throbbing of my clitoris. There was nothing in my life I'd experienced that could ever, would ever, compare to the feeling of Carlisle's tongue buried inside of me.
As if reassured of my own pleasure, he anchored himself securely to me by wrapping his hands around my hipbones. My hands tangled in his hair again, tiny breathless whimpers escaping me as he explored me more thoroughly. Hot and cold…the ice of his tongue pushing in deep, the heat of my blood as it pounded through the flesh he stroked. I was almost completely paralyzed: head thrown back, lips parted, gasping raggedly as his mouth began to move more insistently over me, demanding a release that I knew I would be physically unable to deny him.
I whimpered frantically as his lips fastened around my swollen peak, sucking and pulling gently while his tongue flicked relentlessly against me. I could feel the climax burning up from deep inside of me, I wanted to hold off, to wait until he could feel it spasm around him, but he would not be denied. As if sensing my reluctance, he lifted a single cool finger and began to circle my entrance, made hotter and more receptive by his earlier exploration. At that sensation I gripped my hands more tightly into his hair, holding on by only a thread, and when he finally slid that one finger into me, I exploded.
His finger slipped in deeper even as my walls contracted rhythmically around it, exponentially increasingly the pleasure that detonated in waves over my body. My breaths were sobs in my throat as my hips pushed relentlessly down towards him; never had I imagined such bliss was possible. I'd done my fair share of fantasizing and even self-pleasuring since Edward had come into my life, but nothing had even remotely compared to the pulses of satisfaction that coursed through me now.
I slowly came back to myself as I felt his hard finger retreat, his body slide back up so that he could place one deep kiss on my weak lips. "Thank you, Bella," was the cool whisper against me, and already I could feel him begin to pull away. From somewhere I found the strength to lift my hands and settle them at the button clasp of his trousers, my meaning clear. His hands immediately covered my own, but even as he shook his head, his fingers were pressing mine against his rock-hard erection.
"No, beautiful Bella, you don't have to…" His words trailed off into a groan when I pushed my palms hard against him, unable to manipulate the button and zipper since he had my hands restrained.
"I don't have to," I whispered. "But I want to. Please, Carlisle, just this once. I want you inside of me, please."
He shook his head although his body belied his actions and his hands pressed me closer. "I cannot take your innocence from you, Bella."
"You can't take what I willingly give," I said softly. "Edward already told me he can't…because I'm a…"
His eyes, so black for so long, softened slightly. "You're a virgin." It wasn't a question.
"Yes," I whispered, tears coming to my eyes for some ridiculous reason.
"And Edward is afraid he won't be able to control himself…"
"Yes…" I admitted, remembering the humiliating moment when Edward told, or rather alluded to me that he could never take my virginity, due to his concern over the blood that my body might shed.
"Oh Bella," Carlisle murmured, and suddenly his lips were drifting over my face, so gentle, so careful. "You can't hold it against him, that moment would be such a strain on his control anyway, if he were to be overcome and hurt you…"
"I know," I sniffled, greatly embarrassed now. The shame that my own boyfriend was too afraid to have sex with me was something that had been cracking my heart open for some time. "I love him so much, but I can't stay like this forever. He won't make love to me, but he won't change me either…does any of this make sense?"
"Yes," he said softly. "More so than you realize. I think that may be what led us to where we are right now."
I lifted my gaze to meet his: regretful, even with the faintest flecks of black still swimming in the gold. "What do you mean?"
"Bella," he placed a gentle kiss on my lips. "Edward genuinely is terrified of hurting you."
I shuddered beneath him. "He won't ever make love to me, will he?"
"Not for your first time, no. Edward has only ever taken blood to kill, he won't risk your life to test his control. But perhaps I can help you now, help you both…"
The implication of his words, along with the look of heavy arousal that settled over his features, sent a strong throb of urgency to the deepest center of me. "Carlisle…will you make love to me?"
So many emotions flickered over his face, and I knew in my heart that his thoughts were the same as my own. Esme, Edward. The relationship the two of us would have in the future. But I saw resolution there too, along with desire, and it was enough for me.
"Please, do this one thing for me? For me, and for Edward, please?"
The last vestiges of hesitation vanished from his face, and the guttural moan from his chest as he kissed me again told me that he'd waited for me to tell him this, just this, was okay. His hands gripped a little more firmly as they roamed down my sides, fingertips pausing over all the delicate areas that made me whimper with pleasure. He shed his pants in the blink of an eye, then settled carefully between my thighs as my legs came up instinctively to wrap around his waist. The cool hard tip of him settled easily at my entrance, and only his firm arms kept me from bucking up against it and pushing him into me.
"Shhh, Bella, beautiful Bella…" His lips began roaming over my cheek and jaw again, just the faintest flex of his hips allowing his hard length to push over the hottest parts of me. My breathing caught as my fingernails dug into his waist, unwilling to allow any teasing now.
As if sensing my impatience, he latched his mouth onto mine, hard, as he pushed his swollen length a little further in. I moaned against him as the pleasure and pain combined, a strange mixture, but one that I desperately needed more of. The pinch of pain came from the unfamiliar thick intrusion into my body, but the raw hot need boiling inside of me more than counteracted the discomfort. Slowly, he eased into me, pausing for a brief moment, then pushed upwards with a quick thrust of his hips.
I cried out, more from surprise than anything else. There were a few beats of pain before I realized the perfect angles of his hipbones were pressed against my flesh, the fullness overwhelming as he settled deeply inside of me. "Ahh…yes," I moaned, the pain receding rapidly when I flexed up to meet his first slow push. He was hesitant at first; careful until he was assured of my comfort, then he buried his face in my hair, his tongue teasing my ear. He began an unhurried thrusting into me, allowing my pleasure to build slowly again. When I finally began to squirm and whimper under him, reveling in the sensation but knowing there was more he could give, he slipped his hand down between us and dragged his thumb over my clit, immediately releasing a whole new set of sensations.
Set distinctly against the drag of his hardened length steadily pushing in and out of me, this new jagged pleasure was drawn directly from his thumb pressing hard against me. I jerked involuntarily, first one direction and then another, but his thumb followed me inexorably no matter which way my body shuddered, just as his steady push and pull into my body never ceased.
Finally I gave up, yielded my body to his, and allowed the most powerful sensations I'd ever known to wash over me. They were so intense that I was almost afraid the sheer force might break me. But in the end, I trusted him, threw my head back and just allowed myself to feel as pleasure that was so close to pain tore me to pieces, pushed me back together again, and then left me, drained and willing to accept whatever else he wanted from me.
As if the feeling of my own climax around him was his undoing, I could feel Carlisle stiffen, then shudder over me. He thrust hard and fast for a moment, a sensation which brought a surprised cry of delight to my lips, then threw his head back: jaw clenched, eyes squeezed tightly shut, hard muscles and tendons bulging in his neck as he growled out the rapture coursing through his body. I could actually feel him tense and jerk deep inside my body, cool streams of release following, and then his deep-seated moan as he slowly collapsed onto his forearms over me. He nestled his face against the base of my throat, pulling himself together, allowing his breathing to slow again. I was completely humbled that this vampire, the strongest man I'd ever known, was reduced to weakness inside my body.
"Beautiful Bella," he whispered, lips pressed hard against my neck. "I have no words to express what you've given me."
I tilted my head down to meet his beautiful golden eyes, a topaz more pure than any other member of his family. "You've given me more. You've given me the world…your world now."
"We can never do this again." He bent to place a gentle kiss against my chest, over my thudding heart.
"No," I agreed, but feeling no regret. Instead, I felt free, liberated. I felt utterly comfortable in this man's arms, but I also felt a longing for Edward, for the one I knew would truly be able to complete me now. "Thank you, Carlisle."
"My beautiful Bella," he whispered, leaning to place one last kiss against my lips. "Thank you."
Hope you enjoyed my alternative to that scene! If you're grumped about the idea of Bella cheating on Edward, go read my uber-canon fic I Don't Believe in Vampires, k?
The title of this story is taken from the Goethe poem that inspired the music during the C/B New Moon scene: Schubert's Wandrers Nachtlied II, by Ulf Bastlein. Music with accompanying visuals can be found here: www(DOT)youtube(DOT)com/watch?v=T-BkTnPd00I