Edward's brain stutters through a number of reactions, all of them simultaneously hitting at once.

Carlisle does not seem un-happy now. With his life. With everything. And he did smile like that the first time he spotted Edward from the door. And some part of him aches with an unfettered possessive pleasure at the idea. But if Carlisle is happier here and now, with him, than he ever is beyond the door, then is he doing him a disservice for the life he keeps having to return to. And it's seconds, only, each time.

Seconds.

And Carlisle.....manages.




This place. This strange room. Crossed between their times.
Uncertain, and rare for it. "I'm not certain what to say to that."