Stephenie Meyer owns any Twilight characters and Twilight plot lines that may appear in this story. The remainder is my original work. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without my express written authorization. Don't steal, it isn't polite.
Hello my lovelies! I want to thank you for checking out my new endeavor, even if it may not be exactly your cup of tea. To reiterate, Edward does not exist in this story. At all. This is strictly a Carlisle/Bella fic, and there will be romance...and lemons but not for awhile so hopefully other aspects of this fic will fulfill you until we get there. I'm not forcing you to read this so I do not need any reviews/pms telling me "OMFG Carlisle and Bella EWWWWW, Carlisle is like a DAD, ZOMG WTF!"
Carlisle is 34 years old in this fic, Bella is on the verge of turning 18. If you have hate, please direct it elsewhere...I'll only accept constructive criticism if you aren't pleased. Thank you in advance.
My savior and beta, Isabel, was initially a little squicked about the whole Carlisle/Bella thing. It may help to know that now she is completely in love with this story, so hopefully that eases some of your fears. And to my fellow Carlisle/PFach lovers, I say welcome, my sisters. Welcome! :)
I want to dedicate this prologue to mah twin, Lazykate. This very fic is actually what made us get all bond-y over all things PFach...and our fuckawesomeness of course. Now look at us! We write kinky fuckery together and host Porn Days! I couldn't do this without her support, especially on craptastic days when I feel like shutting down my computer for good. *strokes laptop lovingly* Don't worry baby, I didn't mean it...
P.S. This fic will be entirely done in BPOV. Carry on.
I walked up the shiny wooden steps. There wasn't a creak in them, because that would be a flaw, and there were no flaws in this household. Absolutely nothing but pure brilliance.
I knocked on the door with two quick raps. She answered in a hurry, heels clacking along the hardwood floor like a horse's hooves on cobblestone. She didn't even bother to say hello.
"Rosalie! Alice! Bella's here!" Her tone was cold as she called to the children.
Or maybe I was rather judgmental on the matter.
I got bombarded by two shiny haired seven-year-old girls, as diverse as night and day. Alice's hair was jet black, cropped jaggedly and uneven. She took a scissors to it last week, claiming she couldn't stand her long waves another minute. Her smile was radiant as she threw her arms around my neck. I couldn't help but melt into the warming sensation that wrapped around my heart in her presence.
I turn my attention to the blonde-haired little cherub who's hanging off of my arm. Her hair was so pale, so fine that it was nearly white. Her eyes were blue like the waters of Hawaii, blue like the sky on its clearest day. This little girl was beauty personified, with a heart of pure gold. "I missed you, Bella," she whispered in a voice that would rival any angel's gentle tone.
I squeezed my little girls tight, fighting to ignore the thumping of my heart and the sight of black Doc Marten boots behind them. "Oh, my girls," I groaned, hugging them and covering them with kisses until they were giggling and shoving out of my grip. They ran away, hands clasped together as they rushed to their playroom. I promised I'd be along shortly.
I stood up slowly, my eyes following the un-scuffed black shoes. I bit my lip as I observed charcoal grey dress pants, hugging so tightly to solid thighs…a light blue button up shirt, every muscle and line of toned torso staring back at me.
I jumped nearly two feet in the air at the sound of a crashing noise from the upper level, followed by a harsh "God damnit!"
He was touching me then, soft and commanding fingers holding my forearm, urging me to look up, urging me to succumb and knowing there was never any doubt that I would. "Don't be frightened," he whispered.
His smooth fingertips moved to my chin, dragging slowly along my skin and massaging me into doing what he requested. "Look at me..."
My body flamed in a thousand different sensations as I slowly lifted my gaze to meet crystal blue. Blue like the waters of Hawaii, blue like the sky on its clearest day. Rosalie was the spitting image of her father.
His lips coming together to form my name was like artwork, closing and opening around the first syllable, wet tongue stroking along his teeth in the middle, and finishing with an open mouth…he always did so much more than address me when he spoke my name.
I wanted to say his out loud. I wanted to scream it so she could hear. I wanted to bellow it into the atmosphere around us so she knew. So everyone knew. I wanted to cry it, moan it, beg for it like I had one week ago.
But I remained silent.
His hand slid from my chin and rose to my cheek, his fingers still kneading and comforting in the way only he knew how. I wanted to bury my nose in his chest. To feel completely surrounded by the calming scent of vanilla and laundry soap and the kindest, gentlest man I'd ever known in my life.
And I could have it…he wanted me to.
He tipped his head to the side, sympathy and longing clearly written all over his face. This wasn't easy on either of us. I parted my lips, letting the breath of air I was holding break free. His fingers twitched against my cheek, and I knew he wanted my mouth. I leaned forward just to be closer, just to catch a scent of his body or maybe even his sweet breath. It wasn't close enough. It never was.
I watched his chest rise and fall rapidly, light blue wrinkling and expanding in the exertion. He made a small moaning sound in the back of his throat, and I knew he would speak then. Anything he said to me would be devastating, and yet I craved it so.
His thumb slid along my bottom lip as I shamelessly released my tongue for a taste of his salty skin. His breath caught and his eyes fluttered closed. "I can't do this anymore, Bella."
"Can't do what?" My voice was nothing more than frost along the grass as I fixed my eyes into his crystal blue.
His thumb slid over my lip once more, moving it forward and dipping in to feel the wetness of my mouth. His eyelids began to sag as he ran his finger back and forth along the wet skin behind my lip. "Be without you. It's done…tonight. I'm telling her tonight."
I swallowed thickly, knowing that my heart's desire was moments from leaving his lips. Did I deserve what I yearned for so desperately? Or would I torture us…torture us to the point of miserable dispositions and empty, meaningless lives?
What would I choose?
He watched me so closely, absorbed every flutter of my breath and swirl of emotion in my eyes. He was looking for the answers, and all I'd ever wanted to do was give them to him. His fingers ghosted along my cheek, stroked across my eyelids, my forehead, my hair. He was memorizing me like he'd never have another chance. Another soft moan. Another parting of lips.
Go ahead, destroy me.
"Bella, it's not wrong. It's fucking fate."
My eyes widened as the curse fell from his lips. He so rarely used vulgar language. His voice wavered in intensity, eyes narrowed in the hope that I'd believe these words he spoke. And I did. I believed them with all that I had inside of me. His lips fell open. He'd speak again. "Face this with me…together. Be mine, Bella. I no longer care who knows it."
And there it was.
Everything I'd ever wanted and knew I could never have. What would I say now? How would I live in the aftermath of what I've destroyed?
He pulled me closer by the fingers that were wrapped gently around my jaw. I strangled the whimper inside my throat and recklessly slid my palm along his strong forearm. "Do you still want me?" he questioned softly.
"More than anything." My unshed tears burned and threatened to fall and expose the both of us for what we had become.
"I'm in love with you." His voice was authoritative and unwavering.
I opened my mouth to speak, and a harsh tone sounded out from the floor above.
"Carlisle, have you seen my cell?"
His arm jerked when her voice drifted down to us, but he didn't remove his hand. I saw by his gaze that the notion was an agonizing one. "In the bedroom." He sounded like a tortured soul, his burdened eyes never leaving mine as he addressed his wife.
"I looked there!"
He dropped his trembling hand to his side, his fists flexing tightly as he stared at me. I watched the sharp edge his jaw made when it clenched. The slightly uneven shape of his bottom lip as his tongue swept across it. "Please, Bella."
He had never pleaded with me a day in his life. The words gave me an immense amount of satisfaction.
"Go to her," I whispered. "You already know my answer."
The air left my lungs too quickly as the look of realization spread across his gentle, kind face.
With one long look he swept his hand beneath my hair and pulled me to him by the base of my neck. I buried my nose in the sweet scent of absolutely everything as his wet lips pressed firmly against my forehead. He didn't remove them and I began to feel uneasy at the amount of time he spent on the forbidden affection.
He walked away from me abruptly, the effects of the reply I gave him carved into every expression he held and every move he made.
I had made my decision, and now, there was no going back.
Next chap will go back in time to where it all began. Review, pretty please? Won't be long before I post again! :) Thanks!