Work of Art

Chapter 36

Nick's mom loved her Christmas gifts-- there was no surprise there. 

Nick had wrapped the necklace and placed it in a bowl she had thrown in her ceramics class, and then wrapped them both again. As Nick had helped her mom with the necklace clasp at the back of her neck, she knew she was right about it perfectly complimenting her eyes.

Nick's own bracelet hung from her wrist, as well; the amber and topaz colors catching the light and bringing a smile to her face.

Not only did Nick receive all the new art supplies from her friends and family that she could ever hope for, but she also received the final go-ahead to resume her work on the mural. Stepping through the front doors of the hospital again was like a fresh of breath air, especially because she still felt guilty about the delayed timeline.

After a bright welcome back from and a brief conversation with Grace, Nick set out to work. After she set her tote bag down over by the wall, she headed off toward the supply closet.

As she walked down the hallway, her body seemed to have a mind of its own. It was as if she was being pulled down the hallway, yet she did nothing to fight it. Soon enough, she found herself standing in front of an open door.

Doctor Cullen sat behind his desk, his head resting on one propped-up hand while his other twirled a pen between his fingers. He was lost in thought, staring down at the papers in front of him.

Any words that Nick had been planning to say vanished as she stood in the doorway watching the man. His blond hair was tousled as if he had been incessantly running his fingers through it. It hung down over his forehead, obscuring his eyes. Her eyes watched the ways his hands moved lithely, flexing with each movement of the pen. It was mesmerizing to stand there and watch as he worked.

It was wrong to just stand there staring, but Nick couldn't seem to be bothered. The idea of turning away seemed foreign.

Carlisle's senses, usually on high alert, had been dampened by his extreme concentration. His eyes trailed through the patient's file again and again, trying to piece together the mystery. It frustrated him immensely, you'd think with his centuries of experience a diagnosis would not evade him to such an extent.

For the first time in a long while, he found himself startled as he heard a light knocking. His head shot up faster than any human's should have and his striking eyes were blown wide.

Nick gaped at the surprise on his face. It was an expression she had never seen the man wear before. It made him look years younger-- with an innocence she had never before imagined on the man. She stood frozen, her fist still raised where it had just rapped against the doorframe.

"Miss Lexers," his face still held the unusual surprise. He blinked slowly, his eyes still locked on her. "Sorry, you startled me." His words sounded confused as he spoke them, almost as if he couldn't believe he was capable of being surprised.

It seemed impossible to formulate words as their gazes continued to lock. It was silent as they stayed stationary, neither capable of looking away.

With great difficulty, Carlisle pried his eyes from the girl, instead focusing on the small splotch of blue at the bottom of the door that he'd grown accustomed to staring at.

"Is everything alright?" he asked concerned. However, his unbeating heart fluttered at the thought that she had come to see him.

His eyes flicked back to her form as she scratched her head awkwardly. "Yes, I just..." Nick searched for a reply, unsure of what to say. Hell, she didn't even know why she was here, what on Earth was she to tell the doctor?

"I just wanted to say Merry Christmas," the statement came out more like a question, her inflection unsure.

Since becoming immortal, Carlisle had never paid much attention to holidays. It was hard to when life sometimes felt like one never-ending day. It hadn't been until Alice showed up in their lives, bringing with her a never-ending enthusiasm, that the vampires had begun to celebrate the season. Every year, without fail, Alice insisted on picking out a pine tree to lavishly decorate.