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

[themidnightson]

Edward chuckled, small and bemused, ironic. Thoughts and reactions. Carlisle was a good man in anytime. And haphazardly placed a kiss against the place he'd been whispering, catching a very small bit of ear and jaw and neck.

[ofthefamily]

"I'm humorous now."

Carlisle starts humming something terribly appropriate for the room they are currently occupying, reaching for Edward's hips again --

"Frère Jacques, Frère Jacques, Dormez-vous?
Dormez-vous?"

[themidnightson]

Edward smothered a laugh against his skin, scooting closer.

"As though there were a second to waste on that."
Beat. "Or on your have too much clothing still."

Which is what Edward's hands turned to taking care of. Button by button, perhaps, nearly in beat to the humming.

[ofthefamily]

"You are terribly problematic."

[themidnightson]

"Am I?" Edward looked curious, but his lip canted crookedly.
As though this could not be so bad a thing.

[ofthefamily]

"God above," Carlisle breathes, staring at Edward again with a hooded eye, "I love the problems you cause."

[themidnightson]

Edward's laugh was quiet small, almost like the breath he didn't need. "i'll remember not to apologize for them too often, then." Trailing finger tips across Carlisle's skin as he finished up the buttons.