Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of endless flying in that iron bird.

We finally arrived.

We entered the Charles de Gaulle Airport in the late morning, and we were immediately beleaguered by how densely filled it was with people.

Finding our luggage was almost a battle. There were people from different countries, altogether speaking in different tongues and dialects; all pushing and shoving, some of them hustling about, and some of them lining up rather impatiently by the row of phonebooths that were in constant use. There were large masses of people moving in one direction, and the other in the opposite. They were like grains of sand, sifted and being sift. For me I still consider the airport a very strange place to be.

Esme and I eased our way calmly through the milling crowd and towards the large conveyor belt as we waited patiently for our luggage.

After for more than a few moments, our luggages appeared. We swept past the tourists and mass of strangers as we lifted our suitcases and began walking towards the exit.

The weather was thankfully cloudy due to the cool Autumn season, which made it easier for us to roam through the streets incognito.

We breathed in the sweet Parisian air as we started walking, the sound of dead leaves being blown by the wind was resonating in my ears; I breathed deeply and could distinctly decipher the menagerie of scents that was filled with wine, French patisserie, and the scent I'm sure Esme loved the most - paint.

If I concentrated hard enough, I could almost smell the sweet scent of the fresh flowers from Grasse.

I can still feel the way Esme held my hand. Squeezing it every so often to contain her excitement.

Yet somehow deep inside I sensed that if it were not for our predicament as vampires, Esme would have preferred to come here in the warm summer time.

She gave my hand an instinctual tug; shaking me out of my gloomy thoughts, her eyes suddenly noticing the somber look in mine.

"Darling the air is getting cold, we should find a cab." She said, adding the slightest amount of pressure on my hand to get me to move faster.

The air was beginning to get thick as I hailed a taxi.

We settled ourselves into the backseat shortly after the driver helped us with our baggages.

The driver turned to us as he put the car in gear, "Où les?"

"Pont des Arts. Hôtel Prince de Conti, s'il vous plait."

"D'accord."

"Merci,"

I turned to put my arm around Esme and noticed her smiling.

"What is it darling?" I asked with amused eyes.

"You sound lovely when you speak in French." She replied, a warm glint in her eyes that hungered me to kiss her lips ravenously.

We huddled closely in the backseat, ensconced in comfortable silence. Esme was in my arms as she rested her head against my chest. Her dreamy eyes were
wandering through the car window as we passed several monuments; statues that told the tales of France's past, and then just before it disappeared as we drove by, the Eiffel tower.

It was standing there, proud and eternal. The Eiffel Tower was inescapable, all the other landmarks - even the Arc De Triomphe (Although equally as beautiful.), somehow paled in comparison to this great tower. This kind giant made of steel, erect with perfect grace, watching the city with age-old eyes and lights that shine as bright as stars, the city of lights - the city of love.

Paris. A beacon of art, a beacon for hopeful lovers with the promise of tomorrow in their hearts, a beacon for dreams.

It was a city for gentle dreamers. If you have a chalk in hand, you could easily draw your life's desire on the sidewalks as easily as a painter paints his dreams on his canvas.

We arrived shortly to our hotel 30 minutes later. Judging from the large and arched green double entry doors - this was it. Esme was the first to step out of the cab as I paid the driver and took out our luggages. A smiling doorman was there to greet us upon entering inside.

There was a particular reason why I had chosen this Hotel in the first place.

The Hotel Prince de Conti belongs to the old historical part of Paris, in close vicinity to the the Sainte Chapelle, the Pont Neuf and the Jardins du Luxembourg. It also provides favorable public transport links and a quick access to the menagerie of art galleries, museums, publishers and coffee shops. Not that we ate nor drink. But it couldn't hurt to look around.

But mostly, the main reason why I had chosen this place was because it was near the Louvre; the Pont des Arts and the Notre-Dame de Paris. It was a little surprise I had in store for my wife.

We checked in the front desk and was ushered by a bellhop to our suite.

Our room was located on the 4th floor. We entered past the threshold and found that there was a large bouquet of roses awaiting us at our spacious living room with warm compliments from the manager. It had a charming little terrace that overlooked the city of Paris, and just at the farther bend was the Pont des Art bridge and beyond was the central square of the Palais du Louvre.

It was a breathtaking sight. No matter how many times I've visited Paris in the past, the beauty of its city still captures me. There has been a strange sort of magic about its atmosphere; something that urges me to dream a thousand and one dreams and to be completely lost in every single one of them.

I proceeded to set the luggage in the bedroom, whilst Esme wandered around. The bedroom had several tapestries hanging opulently on either side of the room, and not to mention the lovely paintings that were being hung on the wall that had mesmerized my dear wife.

She disappeared out into the living room. And I began to jot down quick reminders for the pending conference by the bedside, facing the window. Not that I needed reminding - but still it was a little ritual that I enjoyed doing. Everything was silent for a moment, the only sound of my pen scratching against the paper. Shortly after writing I set my notes and pen aside to close my eyes for a moment as I laid back on the bed.

Even before she entered the room, I already smelled her. That irresistible scent of hers that drove me frantic. She was humming as she walked across the room; the soft click of her heels against the carpet as her hips gently swayed to the rhythm of her stride. Esme paused as she stood in front of the terrace, either hand on the railing.

I opened my eyes to see that she had removed her travel coat, revealing a beautiful pale pink frock with the collar coming up to her neck by an inch.

I got out of the bed and walked towards her. I poised myself next to Esme as I took her hand and kissed it, "Happy darling?" I said, pulling her close.

"Oh, yes. Everything looks so beautiful, so wonderful." She replied with beaming eyes.

"Esme," I began as I moved closer to her, my lips almost brushing against her ear, "Do you know how far we are to the Louvre?" I asked. Her eyes were widening.

"No, Carlisle. I don't know how far we are to the Louvre." She said in a tone so serious, it was almost uncharacteristic of her.

"Let's go find out." I finally said after a long moment.

We quickly grabbed our coat and keys as we darted off excitedly out the door.

We were almost like children as we practically ran out of the hotel with excitement.

In the past when I visited France, I was often alone. I was still able to enjoy myself with the sights and places.

But now, being here with my wife; I was finally able to understand the magic Paris held for me - for both of us.

The world can be beautiful beyond imagination. But its nothing unless you have someone to share its beauty with.

We walked the streets of Paris gaily, happily, madly in love.

It was one of the happiest days Esme and I shared.

The way she laughed, the way her eyes sparkled when she looked at me was beyond compare than all the beautiful diamonds in the world combined.

Her happiness and her love was all the treasure I could ever want and more.

We were walking on the Pont des Art bridge at sunset. There was an endearing breeze around us, stirring the flowing waters below as they shimmered and shined like golden silk beneath the setting sun.

I let Esme walk a little further ahead of me as I quietly watched my wife from behind.

I was surreptitiously observing her every move. Somehow there was an invisible tie that linked our bodies together. If one wandered too far, the other would not be too far behind. Its a bond, a cosmic connection that pushes us together. I know so much of her and she knows so much of me, and yet there is much more to discover between us. Even after our several years of marriage, she still surprises me.

She had her hair in a delicate French twist, which revealed the intricately smooth skin of the nape of her neck. I was suddenly overcome with a fervent outcry of desire burning inside. I no longer wanted her to be out on the streets where men can gaze upon her beauty.

I am not a jealous man by nature, but sudden thoughts of men looking and smiling at my wife, sends me into a heated rage. I desperately wanted to go back to the hotel on an impulse, to be alone with my darling Esme. But I did not want to be selfish, nor did I want to ruin my love's happiness of discovery and pleasure whilst we are in Paris just because of my improper timing of an emotional outburst.

But God help me, there is only one woman who can make me lose complete control over my emotions, myself, and that is she. And yet she's the only one who can calm my soul and fill my heart who thirsts for her.

I watched as she turned her head briefly to smile at me; her pink dress that had been carefully hidden beneath her outer coat was lightly swaying at her gait. The knowing look in her eyes.

I watched Esme as the wind slightly swept into her neatly kept hairdo; the gentle motion untangling a few stray locks out of their place, as her scent traveled through the air like pink silk.

There were a few people scattered across the bridge. Some came with their dogs, while others with their lovers. Everywhere I looked, I could see either a painter with his easel or a sketch artist carefully etching the details of his menagerie of complex subjects. It was a fascinating scene to beheld.

I did not realize my eyes had been straying. I was so consumed with my thoughts and the scenery that by the time I was halfway onto the bridge, I could no longer see Esme walking ahead of me. I felt physically ill. My heart rose to my throat as my eyes scanned the area.

She was no where to be found.

A/N: Guys! Please forgive me for my prolonged absence. My computer has been busted for several months now, and a lot of things happened over the course of those months. And recently I had a misunderstanding with a close friend. Its been a really hard couple of months, but thankfully my angel of a cousin allowed me to use his computer to upload this chapter, so yay! Please continue to read and review, they make me delirious with happiness! XD

Stay tuned for Chapter 3!

God Bless! I miss you all! Btw, pardon for any mistakes on this one. I had to type this on my phone o.o