Who but you will ever hold my heart?

She says ... / [𝘊𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘭𝘦/𝘌𝘴𝘮𝘦]

⠀⠀⠀⠀« 𝙎𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙮𝙨 . . .⠀/⠀The question comes out of nowhere. She is surprised, even shocked, perhaps, and Carlisle is looking away with his stomach lurching of both slight embarrassment and nervousness. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵. He strangles for words of apology, before he freezes in the brightness of her smile. It is not amused, or pitiful, just warm. 𝘌𝘴𝘮𝘦. It fill his chest with a warmth what he imagines what a warm summer sunset must have felt like upon his skin in London; he does not remember. She is making him forget his horrid age.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀He questions her softly, nimble fingers frozen at his side to prevent from fidgeting, repeats what she had told him, and compliments her hair with it. Asks in a soft whisper if she would not give him the generosity to have it cut by her, too, and yes, he knows it is permanent, and he can not quite ー doesn't attempt to ー explain the deep wish to have something so permanent from her, or how somehow, now he looks into the mirror more than a fleeing glance so she can be seen with him, should she wish to leave the house. He thinks too much, catches himself thinking of those caramel curls bouncing beautifully whenever she greets him upon his return, and they way they frame her face, too much, when he is poring over files for work.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Edward says he is in love; Carlisle does not know. What he knows is that there is not a single thought that crosses her mind that could be perceived as silly, and he gently assures her of that when she stops mid-sentence in talking to him, worrying, or when she tenses when he accidentally blocks the way to the door, and he reassures her softly, with a heavy heart, that there is no reason to apologize. He knows there is no sound he enjoys more than her warm laugh; it fills his chest with utter warmth and a feeling that is so very human. And he knows he will be anyone and anything she wants him to be, simply to make her stay, for there is no feeling more heavenly than when she leans her head on his shoulder as he reads to her; and now watches her with a soft smile as she combs her fingers through his locks carefully.