Golden: 1819.

[ofthefamily]

An old face. Calmer, older, and yet all the same unchanged.

At least he's not running for his life, now. And he knows where he is.

For Carlisle Cullen, this is always a good start.

Comments

[ofthefamily]

Carlisle is impressed - it's the first coven that he's heard of that doesn't --

[themidnightson]

"Family."

Is a soft prompt. A reminder.





A slander against what he's done today.

He wants to convince himself Alice would understand.

[ofthefamily]

"Yes. Of course," he returns chagrined.

New vocabulary, new comprehension.

[themidnightson]

"There have been some impressive ones." Edward conceded, reluctantly.

[ofthefamily]

Carlisle won't ask. Not right now.

(Not when he knows how tenuous the current arrangement is.)

"Library? Somewhere else?"

[themidnightson]

Edward nodded, with a glance that was something like the equivalent of a shrug. "I could return my book."

[ofthefamily]

Carlisle remembers the way.

The library is comforting in its own way, and known space to Edward and Carlisle both, outside of a bedroom that Carlisle left behind a decade ago.

[themidnightson]

It's less than half a second to recollect the book abandoned on the arm of the chair, and the other half of it to cross the stairs following where Carlisle went. Even if he does pause before the door.

It's the first time he thinks he could just turn around.

Turn around. Walk down the stairs. Walk through his Door.
Be where . . be who . . he's supposed to be.



He closed his eyes as he pushed open the door. Opened them as the wooden panels split the world to reveal another one of books and Carlisle's back, and for a moment

-- hand raised but not touching as he was reading down spine and the way he held his head tilted, beautiful just as he is, normal and ordinary and everything extraordinary in his world, his, ohgodCarlisle, his to the point where he probably could just stride over slam him against a shelf and kiss him delirious again --

Edward can't remember why there's any other option.




It doesn't stay, but Edward does.
Leaning his cheek against the door, watching.

[ofthefamily]

Watching Carlisle.

Who notices. After a moment.

A light smile. "Yes?"

[themidnightson]

Edward smirked, barely. It drug his lips a touch canted. The closest he's come to mouth making that shape it was before Carlisle mentioned Edward looking at him like he could hurt him.

"It's more absurd that you expect me to have any words."

[ofthefamily]

"I don't, actually. You just always appear to have some waiting to make an appearance."

[themidnightson]

"Not always." A concession of truth.

"But I make a valiant effort at times."

[ofthefamily]

"I can only imagine."

But your words are your own, unless you'd want me to hear them.

[themidnightson]

And maybe as long as he is conceding to truth?

"And I lie extraordinarily well."

[ofthefamily]

"That is a sad thing to hear."

[themidnightson]

It'd be sadder yet if he said he learned it for Carlisle.


"It would have been impossible not to learn." Edward says, sticking to leaning on the door, and being far more rational than he should. And it's goading to tell something that is only half a truth when he's talking about lying.

But, for today, he takes the safer route of two.
Even if the one is in direct relation to the other, too.

"There's so much." He raised two fingers toward a temple.
So many people. So many thoughts. So much truth. Everywhere.

[ofthefamily]

And Carlisle's only adding to it.

"You wouldn't tell me if there were something I should or should not be doing."

[themidnightson]

Edward considered the words. His lips tugged oddly crooked without it nearing a smile. It's fond and wry and even a little distant at some edges, but it's not a smile. Some odd stray reaction between Carlisle word's and Edward's memories.

"I'm not that young anymore."

He's gotten opinionated with time.

And he keeps saying he's not the same person as Carlisle at home.
"And you already stopped listening to what you shouldn't do here."

[ofthefamily]

What's one more shouldn't?

Carlisle walks back to the wall Edward is currently holding upright, for all the universe completely unsure of what goals he has.

[themidnightson]

What is one more shouldn't, indeed.



Edward held a hand out, without thinking on it.

[ofthefamily]

All this trying not to think ends with Carlisle laying his palms flat against Edward's hipbones as an anchor and enjoying the feel of him again.

"So."

[themidnightson]

His hips tilted up against Carlisle's hands, instant reaction more than a plan, when he reached up to run his hands down Carlisle's arms. The words that crowded his mouth surprised him, and he snorted with a very small shake of his head.

[ofthefamily]

"Comè?"

[themidnightson]

Edward's hands lingered at the outsides of Carlisle's. Then, with a flippant smile, he never realizes actually flits across his lips and stays, while tugging Carlisle closer as Edward shook his head, "A reference almost two centuries out of date from being understood."

[ofthefamily]

"Mmm."

Even with the closeness, a flicker of worry occurs - what if the years between them always keep the references from being understood?