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For the first time in his life, Carlisle was excited for Christmas.
He was sitting on the living room couch with a book he didn't really care about. He kept his fingers between its' old, dusty pages, but he couldn't focus on the lore of it. His eyes were glued onto Esme, in awe of her gentle moves and quiet humming. She was decorating the Christmas tree with baubles and sweets, completely focused on making it look just perfect, just right. Her white, airy dress billowed with every move she made, and her hair was pulled into a loose braid laying on her shoulder. She sent him a warm smile when she caught his eyes.
A few days before Esme had asked him to drive her to the city and buy new Christmas decorations together. She sat beside him in the living room and asked if he'd go with her, with her eyes cast onto the floor and a smile wandering by the edges of her lips. After almost two years by his side, she still had an issue with asking him for anything, even though he explained to her more than once that it's no problem - that whatever she wants, she shall receive. She shyly told him that she wanted to buy new decorations and make their first real Christmas feel as magical as she could. He drove her to the city and bought everything she wanted.
"How is your reading?" Esme asked him out of the blue, holding a glass bauble in her delicate hands. "Is it any good?"
"I don't know," he answered honestly, running his fingers along the cover. "I can't focus."
"Am I distracting you from your book?" she smirked and went back to her crafts, standing on her toes to hang the decoration. "I thought that might as well be impossible."
"You are quite a catch, darling."
Before Esme came, Christmas felt grey and lonely. Carlisle had spent hundreds of holidays all by himself and it lost all its' magic along the way. Of course, being a man of faith, he celebrated it, but alone - praying in front of a fireplace to keep himself warm and cozy, visiting churches to listen to carols. It was a very sad celebration, but he didn't really mind. Whenever he could, he would take a night shift at the hospital to avoid spending another Christmas Eve by himself. His coworkers usually gladly traded their shifts with him, thankful that they would spend Christmas with their families, and Carlisle would always smile and answer that it's not a problem, that he doesn't have anyone to celebrate with, anyway.
The situation changed slightly when Edward joined him. For the first time in centuries, Carlisle bought a Christmas tree. It felt good to have someone by his side during the holiday time, and Carlisle was thrilled about it. Edward accompanied him in his Christmas traditions, in praying and talking long walks on Christmas Eve, and while Carlisle was only the most thankful for it, it wasn't a true, big, family Christmas he yearned for. He didn't dare to dream about having someone by his side to hold under the mistletoe, but those thoughts would often haunt his brain, only getting stronger and stronger. Eventually, he started praying for someone to join him and Edward in celebrating, for someone to bring in the holiday spirit, to brighten up that Christmas season. When Esme appeared, he felt as if God had finally listened to his prayers. This year, for the first time, Christmas was supposed to be truly excellent.
Esme was already with them last year, but they didn't celebrate back then. Their situation was still too fresh, and the winter season was too painful for Esme. December covered her in a veil of sadness, of yearning for something she couldn't have anymore. Carlisle knew during her last human Christmas she was pregnant and lost her baby not long after, so he didn't ask for the reason for her sorrow. While having a new family diminished her pain a little, once December came she became sadder, silently mourning her loss, her hands often unconsciously wandering around her stomach. It would break Carlisle's heart. She couldn't suppress her memories anymore, and Carlisle found her weeping in her bed on Christmas Eve, with knees drawn to her chest and sore sobs leaving her throat. He stood in the doorway, not sure what to do, and Esme asked him to come and sit beside her - he tried to comfort her, but with miserable results. He couldn't take her pain away. The worst thing was that she couldn't be helped, it was something she needed to work through. All he could offer was a warm hug and word of compassion.
But that was in the past, and if this year Esme had any of those thoughts, she hid them deeply. Jumping around the tree, she was the happiest he'd seen her in a long time. She was an angel and blessed his life with so much joy he couldn't compare it to anything else.
Oh, how he loved her. She felt like the first rays of sun after a cold night, like spring flowers after a long winter. She was a true miracle, and he thanked God for her every day.
"Could you help me?" Esme gazed at him, holding a delicate glass bauble in her hand and he nodded willingly, standing beside her. She gently slipped the decoration into his hand and pointed at a high branch. "I can't reach it."
She wasn't much shorter than him, and he was almost sure it was just an excuse to tear him away from his book and throw him into the Christmas arrangements. If it was indeed the truth, he couldn't complain.
"Here?" he asked, and Esme shook her head, a few strains of her curly hair loosened up from her braid and fell onto her face.
"A bit to the left," she grinned and nodded enthusiastically when he did what she asked. "Perfect. Thank you."
Carlisle flittered his eyes over the living room. While he was at work, she already dangled mistletoe around the house, hung socks on the mantelpiece, placed candles on the windowsills. She was in her element decorating the house. He noticed it about her a few weeks ago, when she was passionately debating with him over buying a new painting for the living room - decor came very easily for Esme, and it made him proud of her, but also curious about what else is hidden within that beautiful woman. He wanted to know everything about her, and was slowly learning more and more, but it still wasn't enough.
"The house never looked better, darling," he placed a hand on the small of her back and kissed her forehead, which she welcomed with a grin. Carlisle touching her always woke up the butterflies in her stomach, both the first time he did it and all the times after that. She reacted to his every hug like it was the first one, and Carlisle hoped it would never change.
"Thank you, I had so much fun with it," Esme replied and he wrapped his arms around her, joining his hands on her stomach. If she had a heart, it would be thudding loudly, but so would be his.
She reached her hand to adjust the ribbons on their tree, and the diamond engagement ring on her finger shone in the faint candlelight. Her new, sharper eyes saw a rainbow of colors reflecting from the priceless stone, and a quiet gasp of awe escaped her lips. A goofy grin spread across Carlisle's face as she froze her hand and admired her ring for a second.
He had proposed to her only a few weeks ago, when first snow covered the earth with its' cold coat, knowing how much she adored the winter season. Since then, days flew by like a fairytale, and Esme still couldn't quite believe a man like Carlisle was destined to be hers, and she had said yes the second he bowed onto one knee and started his vow. She still caught herself staring at her ring every now and then, as if she needed it to ensure herself that it's not all a dream.
But it wasn't. She was about to spend eternity with Carlisle and Edward by her side, and it was only the first of hundreds of Christmas Eves they would have together. That thought filled her with so much joy, she felt like dancing.
"Admiring my jewelry choice?" Carlisle asked and swept her braid off her shoulder to rest fingers on skin.
"Actually, yes," she smiled. "It's quite exceptional."
"Exceptional ring for an exceptional bride."
"You don't have to keep flattering me," she turned her body to face him and looked him straight in the eye. "I already said yes."
"I'm afraid you signed up for a lifetime of it," he shrugged, and she cupped his face in her hands and stood on her toes to lay a quick kiss onto his cheek. They didn't yet dare to do anything more. A barrier of shyness was still between them, and Esme liked it - it only made it more special, something to wait for. She couldn't help her imagination, though.
"Where is Edward?" she asked.
"He said he had some errands to run before the stores close," Carlisle replied and sent her a wink. "I believe it's got something to do with a gift for you."
"I have one for you while we're alone, then," Esme said in a mysterious tone, and Carlisle felt his insides burning with excitement.
"Why did you have to wait for Edward to be away?" he asked, but his mind didn't dare to wander in the indecent direction it was heading towards. No, Esme couldn't mean that. They weren't yet wed, and she wouldn't... would she?
Esme placed her hands on his chest and sent him the warmest of smiles.
"To see your genuine reaction to my gift," she explained. "If Edward was here, you'd pretend you like it even if you didn't. You're a gentleman, Carlisle. I'm counting on hearing what you really think."
Just the possibility of not liking his gift seemed a bit outrageous for him. She didn't have to get him anything, and he didn't expect it. Her presence was enough - it, would always be.
Esme walked upstairs, and he reluctantly let her out of his sight. He liked having her close, always keeping by her side. Any second spend not looking at her was a waste for him, and her quick, graceful steps running down the stairs made him smile again. She took his hand and led him onto the couch, sitting beside him with a small, brown package in her long fingers. She kept a tight grip on it, as if she was anxious to give it out, and was sending him looks both shy and very proud. He almost ached to see what she prepared, feeling a bit embarrassed for the thoughts he had before.
"It's nothing much, and I don't expect anything in return," Esme said and placed her hands on her knees. She was looking at him with her amber eyes big and fingers trembling slightly with excitement. "You paid for all my belongings and clothes, and just a few weeks ago you have given me the most exquisite ring. Wanting anything more from you would be rude of me."
"I don't mind paying for your things," Carlisle said, his fingers lingering along the white ribbon on his gift. It was the truth. He felt good knowing that he could buy her all the necessities. He needed to make sure she had whatever her heart desired. "You know that."
"I do, but it doesn't mean I'm comfortable with it," Esme replied. She took the ribbon off his present and started playing with it, ghosting it between her skinny fingers. "Come on, open it. I made it myself."
Carlisle looked at her with an adoring look before turning his attention to the little package. It felt very light in his hands, and when he tore the gift paper, he saw that it was a small book with a white cover, and the date 1922 written on it with Esme's neat calligraphy. He opened it slowly, and couldn't help a gasp of surprise escaping his throat.
What he was holding wasn't a book, but a sketchbook, and it was full of Esme's drawings. He carefully flipped through the first few pages. On the first one, Esme drew their house, the next few were portraits of Edward - his sharp features mirrored almost perfectly. Carlisle had no idea Esme could draw like that. He bought her paints and pencils when she asked for them, but she never actually let him see any of her works. Now, that he got to admire them for the first time, the impression they had on him was tremendous.
"I wanted to make a memoir of our first year together," Esme said a little shyly and flipped the pages. She stopped when she reached a drawing of Carlisle and tapped on it with her long fingers. "I like this one."
"When did you-" he started, but his own reflection staring at him from the piece of paper made him tongue-tied again. Esme laughed freely and placed her hand over his. She was so proud of herself she was blooming, and Carlisle's reaction was exactly what she'd hoped for.
"I have my ways," she grinned at him with her childish smile. "My new memory was a great help, too."
"Esme, it is breathtaking," Carlisle said and joined their fingers together. They sat in silence for a few seconds, only the sound of flipping pages between them. Not without a surprise, he found more sketches of himself, and a few of them together. Esme's sharp lines and skillful shading made the drawings look like photographs. "I have never met anyone quite as talented as you."
She just cast her eyes towards the floor and chuckled, not used to taking compliments from men, but he was looking at her with his eyes so loving, after a few seconds she returned his stare.
The tension between them felt very heavy and Esme wanted to touch him, but not like they'd done before. She wanted to take him in for a long kiss, lips joined, tongues tied, a kiss reserved for husband and wife. She bit her lower lip before taking a deep breath and trying to keep her thoughts decent. The look Carlisle was sending her wasn't helpful at all.
She focused on the sketchbook again, suddenly interested in her own paintings she'd seen so many times before. She tapped her nails on the paper again, dragging his gaze there.
"I'm not a fan of this one," Esme said, looking at her own features drawn on the page. She hated drawing herself, but this one wasn't as bad as she feared it would turn out. Carlisle sent her a smile and ran a finger along her portrait.
"I think it's my favorite," he murmured, outlining her lips drawn with a pencil. She chuckled at it and felt lost in his deep voice and golden eyes again. "I would like to rip it out of the sketchbook and keep it in my bag. If that's alright with you?"
"It is," she whispered, the thought of Carlisle always keeping her portrait by himself making her feel warmer. "I'd love that."
"You never told me you could paint this beautifully."
"I don't like making a fuss out of myself," she said back and he cupped her face with his cold hand, brushing fingers against her cheeks in a gesture so loving she had to kill a sob of emotion in her throat.
"I want you to share things with me, alright?"
"Alright," Esme whispered and watched his lips turning with a smile. Oh, how she wanted to finally taste them.
"Do you really like it?"
Carlisle stroked her face again. "Do I like it? Darling, it's the most wonderful thing I have ever been gifted with."
She smiled at him, too, but before she said anything more, the doors opened with a thud. Edward came in with a grin on his face, holding bags in his hands. Fresh snow on his coat and hat, and fell down from it with every move he made. Esme jumped away from Carlisle and sat straight, feeling a bit dizzy from his gaze and soft fingers on her cheeks. Edward looked at them with his eyebrows risen and put his bags on the floor.
"I hope I'm not interrupting."
"There's nothing to interrupt," Esme replied way too quickly and walked to him, taking his coat and hat. Snow fell from it onto the wooden floor. "Oh, Edward, you could have at least shaken the snow off outside. This is going to turn into a puddle."
"I'll mop it up, don't worry," Edward kissed her cheek before taking the bags up again. "No peeking! It's not Christmas Eve yet."
Esme laughed loudly and hung his coat and hat on the hanger. "No peeking, I swear."
Edward took a long look at their living room and raised his hand to touch the mistletoe hung by the doors. "The house looks great, Esme. Truly, beautiful."
"Thank you. Carlisle helped."
"You don't have to lie," Edward winked at her. "I know he didn't."
After spending some time with Edward, Esme talked Carlisle into taking a walk outside. The snow was still falling lazily, and within seconds it covered Esme's hair and coat, delicate snowflakes rested on her eyelashes. She reached her hand out and caught a few tiny shapes, delighted by the fact that it didn't melt on her icy skin.
Their house looked marvelous in the winter. It was grotesque, almost post-card like, to see their cottage safely swept under a heavy blanket of fresh, wet snow. It lurked from the trees, so cozy under the sky full of stars. The night around them was dark, and if Esme was alone, she'd feel fear in the bottom of her stomach, but by Carlisle's side, all she felt was safety and calmness.
They walked in comfortable silence, with her smaller hand in his, fingers tied together. He'd brush his thumb against her knuckles every now and then.
"I have never had Christmas time quite this wonderful," she spoke as they walked the dark path between snowed trees, the smell of evergreen pine needles surrounding them from every direction. She took a deep breath through her nose to really feel it. Nothing made her more festive than the scent of a Christmas tree.
She kept close at his side, as if their joined fingers didn't give her the intimacy she yearned for.
"Neither have I," Carlisle replied and brought her hand to his lips to put a kiss on her knuckles.
She just grinned and tucked her hair behind her ear. Carlisle noticed a long time ago that's what she'd always do when she was feeling coy.
"I'm grateful for you," she whispered. "The both of you."
"Not nearly as grateful as I am for you."
Esme looked at him and noticed all little snowflakes resting on his hair and eyebrows. She ran her fingers through his hair and chuckled when all the snow fell onto his shoulders. Life was perfect at that moment. A winter fairytale.
"Carlisle?"
"Yes?"
"I love you," she said, and the world seemed silent. Her words surrounded them as the fresh snow, voice warm and smooth like silk as she said it out loud for the first time. She knew Carlisle loved her more than he could convey with words. He had a problem with speaking about emotions, and she was alright with that. She learned that there are other ways of showing love. The way he always kept her close, how he worried about her, how he put her needs above his and Edward's, it was enough and showed more than words ever could, but she still wanted to hear him say those words to her. It felt only right to be assured that he truly felt this way, too.
If he didn't love her, he wouldn't have proposed to her. He wouldn't have saved her. She knew. But she wanted to hear it.
Carlisle looked at her with an incredulous stare, almost as if her words stunned him. In some ways, it was surprising - everything related to Esme felt new to him. Carlisle never loved a woman before, and he'd been alone for so long, somewhere along the way he lost hope for ever finding a wife. Esme's path crossing with his felt like a miracle. Centuries spent all by himself, getting more lonely with every passing year, and suddenly, within a few, he'd been granted so much. First Edward, now Esme. It was overwhelming in the best way possible.
"I love you, too," he replied, and it felt so wonderful to finally say it out loud, to have someone to tell it to. The biggest smile turned Esme's lips, a grin so wide her white teeth shined in the moonlight. She wrapped her arms around him, finally having him as close as she really wanted, and he stroked her head, playing with loose strands of her hair.
"I've never been in love."
Esme grinned wider, feeling warmer with every stroke of his hand. He was looking into her eyes with his stare so loving and innocent, and she placed her hand on his jaw.
"Me neither," she whispered back and looked up, above his head - they stood under a mistletoe. It was covered with snow, but Esme felt the evergreen scent, and his eyes followed hers until he noticed the mistletoe and smiled.
"What a pleasing coincidence," Esme said and stared into his eyes again, feeling the butterflies in her stomach acting up. "I'm afraid we have to kiss now, doctor Cullen."
If it was anybody else, she'd be nervous. But it was him, and everything was alright. She didn't even mind how freezing cold it was outside, how the snowflakes hit her eyes, how the clouds covered the moon and they stood in the darkness. She felt Carlisle's hands on her shoulders, running down her spine until he rested them on the small of her back and hesitantly cuddled her against himself. She could almost feel how he was filled with excitement. If they had hearts, they would both be thudding strongly, with their chests pressed against each other.
She'd dreamed about what it would feel like to finally feel Carlisle's lips on hers. She placed fingers on his chin, guiding him to tilt his head slightly. He brushed his nose against hers, but she could feel how nervous he was. They had never been this close to each other - Esme could see reflections of brown in his golden eyes. She lingered her fingers down his shoulders, squeezing his bicep and rubbing it soothingly to make him more relaxed.
"Would now be a good moment to confess that I have never done it before?" he asked quietly, making her chuckle.
"I will guide you," she whispered, and finally joined her lips with his, cold and smooth like a stone. He gasped into her mouth and she smiled, and nothing but Carlisle mattered at that moment. In some odd sense, it meant so much for her that she was his first. Carlisle's every move was gentle and careful, but as she opened her lips wider, he got bolder - she felt his tongue on her lips, then tasted him on her own tongue. She breathed deeply against him and smiled under his mouth, guiding him through the kiss patiently and slowly, with her fingers tangling the hair on the back of his head. She felt his hands on her back getting more relaxed, so she gave in to it, too. It felt so good to finally cross this barrier.
She wasn't used to men acting this gently, with this much consideration, and it made her feel loved as never before when she realized how Carlisle did everything he could to make her feel safe.
Esme broke the kiss, but didn't move her head back just yet, brushing her lips against his chin and the edge of his lips. He smelled of citrus and ginger, a perfume she chose for him. Carlisle took his trembling hand and stroked her hair, making her grin.
"Merry Christmas," she muttered against the skin on his cheek.
Just as she was about to kiss him for the second time, his broad hands squeezed onto her waist and he lifted her up from the ground. The sudden movement surprised her completely, but as he swirled her around, she felt on top of the world. Esme let out a loud gasp and wrapped her legs around him for steadiness, but she couldn't help a loud laugh as she watched his handsome face brightened up with a cherished grin and glimmers in his eyes.
"Carlisle!"
"Merry Christmas to you, too, my love," he said, and joined their lips again, more confidently this time.