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]

"Lyon."

Almost reverently: "I'm in schooling now."

[themidnightson]

Edward smiled, without thought to how and why he did.

It's odd. The reverence and the full circle notion of it. And it doesn't really even make it to either of them as a thought. It just sort of bursts against the side of mind and mouth.

[ofthefamily]

Almost worried that Edward is too happy about it, misunderstanding, Carlisle adds, "I just started, first session, just to get comfortable - "

[themidnightson]

Edward Cullen is trying to control his mouth. This is usually not an issue he has. Everyone and everyone they know would be able to point out that truth, for it's better and worst qualities.

Even with his lips pressed closed, when he leans back against the chair back, there's something of it there. In his eyes, of not the the raise of his cheeks.

"What do you think so far?"

[ofthefamily]

"It's...fun?"

[themidnightson]

Edward snorted, quiet. As though the word might have been too small. But he was at least looking at the fact he was closing his book entirely and setting it on his thigh.

"Good."

[ofthefamily]

But then there's that other --

"I may have to move soon, however."

[themidnightson]

Edward brow rose.

It's enough of a question, isn't it?

[ofthefamily]

I probably shouldn't tell you.

But there is the want there.

How much of my current time do you know?

[themidnightson]

"Enough?"

And it is a question. He's thinking about the journals. He has them for eternity in his mind. But they do not have every day of every year. Which is why he's trying to think of what all was covered during that time.

[ofthefamily]

I got into a fight.

Carlisle chews at the corner of his lip, doing his best to obscure the images of it from Edward's view.

[themidnightson]

That's --







-- ludicrous is almost etched in the twitch of his lips.

[ofthefamily]

"Told you I wasn't sure I should say anything about it."

Finally, the effort to keep it away from Edward falls by the wayside.

Vampires. Two of them. Red eyes and a lack of robes and regalia - not Volterra. Harassment and they're finding their next victim but Carlisle has to be here and they will ruin his school.

He socks one in the jaw when the stranger tells him to fuck off. The mate dives for Carlisle next.

[themidnightson]

He asks a question he (thinks he) already knows the answer to.

"Are they still alive?"

[ofthefamily]

"The mate is."

Hence the move.

"He wasn't all that intelligent. They were young."

But Edward seems to be kind of missing the point.

[themidnightson]

Edward's still uncertain, studying him. It's not something Carlisle' wouldn't do now. If pushed to a place with no possible other eventuality. But that was a lot of roads crossed off before one ever got there with Carlisle.

And the line between human life and vampire existences was far grayer.
(Especially when it came to any part of their family.)




"Where will you go now?"

[ofthefamily]

I was thinking about the Americas.




You truly aren't bothered by that? The -- I killed them? I don't even feel badly about it. They were a threat and I removed it.

[themidnightson]

"You are." It's more important than Edward's opinion, isn't it?
"You always will be. Even when things push your hand."

And in that. It does bother Edward. Anything forcing Carlisle to be anything other than what Carlisle wants or chooses to be bothers him. He considers those things usually far more into his or someone else's his hands to take care of. Not Carlisle's.



Casually, almost unattachedly. "Were they feeding on your school?"

[ofthefamily]

"They would have."





After a second, Carlisle picks at dirt under his fingernails that is no longer there. He's as clean as he wants to be now. I was a good fighter. Apparently.

[themidnightson]

This...shouldn't be as surreal as it feels.

"Yes." There's something smug. For a flicker. Here. Gone.
"So you stopped them from attacking someone."



It's a leading statement. It's not accusative. Even if he can't help thinking that Carlisle, his Carlisle (or are both of them now?), would catch the entire reference to what he'll have to say for the next minute with those words.

[ofthefamily]

"I did."

It's still flat.

"I only regret enjoying it."

[themidnightson]

There is the urge to swallow.





He doesn't. But it's there.





"Then, or now?"

[ofthefamily]

"Both. J'imagine. It's hard to tell."

A wan kind of smile.

"I was good at it."

[themidnightson]

Surreal. Surreal. He wants to hang on to that word.
Not the rest. Not the sensation of this being enticing.

Not when everything else it drags up is his debt to this world.
He has his own careful line. For Carlisle. And it is only for humans.





"Does it change things?"

[ofthefamily]

"No. What would it change? It just means that without...on the outside, in the world -- "

That's not it either; his words won't arrange the way he wants them to. (They will eventually. In a century or so.)

"Perhaps it was my vehemence against the Three that prevented my...slipping."