Disclaimer: All characters belong to Stephanie Myer.

Hope you enjoy.

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February 1929 - London, England

London was beautiful, there was no denying that.

Besides the constant cloudy skies and rainfall, the hidden gems of the city captivated Esme in a way that had her craving for her paint brushes.

She loved watching the boats floating down the Thames as she and Carlisle walked over the Bridge. They walked at a leisurely slow pace, their arms always linked, as they took in their surroundings. From the Bridge, Carlisle was able to point out different buildings to her which were grand in structure and importance. Such buildings certainly inspired her, causing her mind to imagine the blue prints to several new houses as she walked.

They would walk along the Strand, admiring the shops or simply people watching. There was the slight unease between them at the thought of being watched by nomadic vampires, but from what Esme could see, there were no scarlet eyes staring at her from across the street. She wasn't too sure if that thought brought her comfort, or put her more on edge.

Workers were laying down tramlines outside Whitechapel High Street, wearing no coats as their work caused them to sweat, but they also showed no concern about the weather. It seemed Londoners were very used to the wet.

However, it soon became very clear that Esme's favourite place was the British Museum.

"I know exactly where your mind is taking you, Mrs Cullen." Her husband whispered as he stood behind her, his hands resting on her waist while she admired the Egpytian exhibition in front of them.

A coy smile played on her face as she tilted her head to enable herself to say a hushed, private comment into his ear, "That for once, you are not the oldest in the room?"

That playful jibe earned her a tickle to the side, just as she had predicted, and she giggled as she easily stepped out of his reach. Carlisle knew better than to cause a scene in the middle of a public place, but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he watched her.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, ladies and gentleman." The tour guide announced as he strode towards them, having just darted off to liase with another employee. He had a confident stride, with his chin raised slightly and a charming smile on his face. Overall, for a human, he was quite appealing to the eyes, and certainly drew attention from most of the small group which had collected in front of the exhibition. His name was Jonathan, but he had requested they called him Johnny.

As Jonathan brushed past, his eyes lingered on Esme for slightly too long. He didn't even attempt to hide his stare, and the grin he flashed her was enough to cause Carlisle to grow lowly. Luckily, the noise was far too quiet for human ears, however Esme heard it all the same.

"Behave yourself," She chided slowly, although she couldn't help but enjoy this side of her husband. It wasn't often that Carlisle behaved this way; he was not a controlling husband, and he knew Esme would never entertain such advances from anyone who was not him. However, he was still a vampire, and Esme always felt excited when his protective, territorial side came out to play.

"As long as he does," Carlisle conditioned, watching as their overly-friendly tour guide led the way down the corridor with his group following behind. With a playful wink at her husband, Esme took Carlisle's hand as they followed them.

The Native American exhibition was next, and Esme's artistic eyes appreciated the variety of feathers that adorned the statue as he sat upon his horse. The man's face was chiseled and stoic, with dark eyes that seemed to light with a fire of battle, as if he really was facing off his enemies in order to protect his land.

As Jonathan started his well-practised talk through of the exhibition, Esme's eyes travelled over the artefacts spread out on a large white table in front of her. It still amazed her that such pieces of history had been found and kept as treasure, important pieces of the past that will forever be kept relevant in the museum. Even though it was not a part of this countries history as such, it was still appreciated and documented just as knowledgably.

Her favourite part of the museum was easily the wildlife part. Almost an entire floor was dedicated to the African Sahara, with a variety of animals spaced out around it. If it hadn't of been for the creatures black, lifeless eyes, Esme could have let herself imagine she was really standing in the Sahara.

As a child, this would have been her idea of paradise. She would run around and pretend she belonged in the Sahara. She would admire the animals and stalk in the long grass. As she eyed the thin, twisting trees in front of her, an amused smile twitched in the corner of her lips.

"These trees wouldn't be nearly as fun to climb as the ones you are used to. You'd probably fall." Carlisle pointed out from his place beside her. Clearly, he was able to follow Esme's mind in this exhibition also, and it made her smile to think of how well they knew each other. With an entire eternity ahead of themselves, she knew she wouldn't go a day without learning something new about her wonderful husband. That thought alone was the most exciting thought in the world.

Her smile grew as she shot her husband a look. "Well, perhaps I enjoy the outcome of falling out of trees."

Carlisle snorted, shaking his head as he tried his hardest to hide his amusement.

"Any questions, folks?" Jonathan asked as he approached, coming to stand at Esme's other side. Although his close presence did not make Esme feel as uncomfortable as it would have done a few years ago, she certainly didn't appreciate how his breath touched her neck.

However, Carlisle remained professional as he replied, "I think we're good."

Unable to hide his disappointment, Jonathan stalked away in a huff, hurrying to busy himself with the rest of the group once again. Sharing a glance, Carlisle and Esme followed them further into the museum, with Carlisle's hand on the bottom of her back.

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"Oh, Carlisle," Esme tilted her head back, offering her husband even more of her pale neck as he lavished her skin with sucking kisses whilst holding her up against the tree. One of her hands was currently trickling up and down his back, while the other was fixed into his golden locks, keeping him firmly where he was. Carlisle didn't mind; he loved it when she pulled on his hair.

Her husband smiled against her as his teeth grazed gently down the column of her throat, stopping when his mouth hovered over her crescent shaped scar. There was no longer any hesitation from him; this scar was a physical reminder that Esme was with him forever. He pressed his lips to it and sucked, causing his wife to tremble against him.

Esme's legs were already wrapped around her husband, but she squeezed him even closer to her so she could feel him fully. The insatiable desire she felt for him had not diminished over their years of marriage; if anything, it burned brighter each day.

"I've wanted you all day, Esme." He admitted to her, his tongue tracing over her scar slowly, following the shape left behind by his teeth. "I always want you."

"You'll always have me." She said, her fingers scratching over the back of his neck as she willed him to continue. This man had her crumbling against him with just his eyes, let alone his kisses and his skilful hands. The looks he had been giving her had driven her insane all day long, and now, as night surrounded them, she was finally able to get what she wanted most.

They had come to this forest to hunt, as the city of London was a poor hunting ground. With their vampire speed, it hadn't taken them long, and as they were fuelled by their desire for one another, they had made it here in good time. Once they had satisfied their thirst with enough prey, they had wasted no more time.

Although he knew there would be no threat from another man, Carlisle hadn't enjoyed having to put up with their tour guide drooling over his wife for the entire afternoon until they had left the museum. It was another reminder that men would always gawk at her, would always attempt to woo and seduce her, but Carlisle knew Esme would never be tempted. She was his, just as truly as he was hers. There would never be any competition.

Regardless, he hadn't been able to resist devouring her mouth in such a passionate kiss which then led them to their current predicament; her wrapped around him with her back pressing into the tree trunk behind them, with the blood of their prey staining their clothes from their messy, rushed hunt. If it wasn't for the fact they had to return to their hotel, their clothes would have long since been shredded.

"Esme," He paused, preventing his hands from continuing to appreciate her thighs. "Are you sure that-" Although their sex life was far from boring, he was always ensure about pushing her out of her comfort zone. Being outside, in an unfamiliar territory, was new to both of them, and had their risks. However, the growing strain in his trousers was making it more and more impossible to ignore his glorious wife, who was pressed so tightly against him that he feared he would burst before they even began.

Esme understood his hesitation, soothed by the fact that her husband would always put her first. But, she reached up to kiss him, capturing his bottom lip between her teeth and giving it a playful bite. "Carlisle, if you do not continue you, I fear I may hurt you."

That was all the reassurance he needed. Without another moments hesitation, Carlisle skilfully flicked open the button securely the back of Esme's dress, earning him an amused look from his wife. "Years of practise, my love." He commented, before using his hand to ease the material off her shoulders. The dress pooled together around her waist, leaving her chest exposed to his hungry gaze. Carlisle wasted no time in ensuring that his attention went to lavishing his wife as she moaned and wiggled underneath him.

Her poor attempts of containing herself were causing Carlisle's trousers to become incredibly tighter, something he hadn't thought would be possible. However, Esme's hands ran down his arms and came to rest on his zipper, pulling it down and releasing him from his compounds.

"Esme, love," He whispered as the cool air touched him, however it was instantly replaced by the feeling of her hand squeezing him. He groaned, his entire body trembling with the effect that only she would ever have on him.

"I'm ready, Carlisle." She said, her grip tightening ever so slightly to prove her words. Soon enough, her husband had raised her slightly and was inside her, causing them both to let out a satisfied moan. Although they were still far too dressed for either of their liking, being outside prevented them from shredding the rest of their clothing.

Still, the feeling of him moving in and out and the warmth of her surrounding him was enough. Carlisle's head came to rest on her shoulder, his breathing coming out thick and fast as he continued to thrust into her. Esme's back pressed further into the tree as she tightened her legs around Carlisle's waist.

One of Carlisle's hands placed itself firmly on the bark above Esme's face, and they both heard the tree groan in protest. Neither of them dwelled on that for too long; they were far too distracted by their pleasure.

Esme's grip on his hair tightened, meaning a dark growl to escape her usually-careful husband's lips. This side of both of them was thrilling, and she certainly was going to enjoy it for all it was worth. Out here, in the heart of the forest, she knew the likelihood of being heard was near impossible. Having a hotel room and a bed was fun, but she wasn't one to remember to be quiet - something which Carlisle often teased her about.

"Carlisle," She moaned out now, causing Carlisle to chuckle as usual. She didn't mind one bit.

His thrusts increased as they found their perfect rhythm, their bodies moving together as one. It wasn't long until Esme clenched around him, throwing her head back and allowing herself to give in. Carlisle would not have been far behind his wife, if the tree hadn't decided in that moment that it could no longer put up with the force.

Carlisle's quick reflexes ensured that he rotated them, his back against the trunk as the tree cracked and collapsed to the floor. They landed on top of it, Esme falling into his chest and instantly bursting out into laughter as soon as the situation processed through her mind.

Unable to help it himself, Carlisle also laughed, the noise of them two of them bellowing through the silent trees as they lay on top of their fallen victim.

"I should feel bad." Esme commented, trying her hardest to stop her giggles, but it was proving impossible. "I will feel bad, eventually. But that was far too funny."

Carlisle smiled up at her. "That was certainly a new experience."

Their gazes locked, and it wasn't long at all before their laughter continued, loud enough to stir the forest around them.

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Carlisle purred in contentment, the sound rumbling in his chest, as he kissed his wife's bare shoulder slowly. "How long has it been since we last did this?"

Esme smiled, leaning back to rest her head against his collarbone. "One day," She recalled teasingly, enjoying the warm water that surrounded them. They had been in the bath for what felt like hours, and yet neither of them wanted to leave, even when the water eventually would become colder.

"Only one day?" Carlisle repeated in mock disbelief. "My love, I'm afraid even that seems like too long."

She tilted her head to look at him playfully. "So, if you had it your way, we would never leave this tub?"

"If I had it my way," He lay another gentle kiss to the side of her neck, dangerously close to her scar. "You would never wear clothes again."

She laughed lightly, closing her eyes. "You, Dr Cullen, are insatiable."

"Only for you," He reminded her, his hand running up and down her thigh at a tantalisingly slow pace. "Only ever for you."

"Hmm, good answer." She said, rewarding him with a kiss.

He smiled against her mouth. "So, we have yet to pick our next location. What part of the world would you like to see next?"

The idea that it was even possible for her to explore the entire world was still somewhat hard to process for Esme. How had she ever gotten so fortunate to have the opportunity to do such a thing with the love of her life? "Perhaps, we could journey up to Scotland?" She suggested. "I hear the weather will be in our favour up there."

"I have never been to Scotland before." Carlisle admitted. "It'll be an adventure for the both of us."

She smiled, pleased that they would be able to share such an experience together. Carlisle had been alive for a very long time. He'd had a long life before her, and although she knew that he had been lonely, he had still experienced so much of the world that she could not even begin to fathom.

"Esme," Carlisle continued, surprising her momentarily. "Before we go...I'd like to visit my father's church."

Her eyes opened, startled at his revelation. She had not approached this subject with him since they had stood in the courtyard, which had been a week ago. For the last seven days, they had simply been exploring what London had to offer. She hadn't brought up visiting the church because she knew what an internal struggle it was for Carlisle. She could over him comfort in her presence, but only he could set his mind to going. It had to be when he was ready.

"If you are happy to, then we shall go." She said, taking his hand and lifting it to her lips.

"I'm ready." He confirmed softly.

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"I'm ready," Carlisle repeated to himself, staring in front of him at the all too familiar building.

The structure was half-standing, the rest had been reduced to rubble. Time and the war had not served the church well, but Carlisle could remember it in his prime just as clearly as if the real thing was stood in front of him. When he closed his eyes, he could see the stain glass windows, he could see the tall tower where the bell would be hanging. He could picture the large wooden doors which had large brass doorknobs, one which he had always struggle to lift as a child.

The path leading up to the church was broken, with loose rocks making it uneven. Carlisle felt himself grip Esme's hand slightly tighter as they approached. Although he did not need oxygen, he found himself holding his breath, and he paused.

"Carlisle?" Esme's voice echoed in his mind, but he wasn't stood with her anymore. His mind had taken him back three hundred years, to an evening of his past, where he stood facing the church. His father had been inside, waiting with the rest of his group of men. For some unsettling reason, Carlisle felt reluctant to step inside. Although he had never agreed with his father's work, he had never felt such an unpleasant feeling about entering the church. This was the building where he had seeked comfort and advice, one where he felt closest to the mother he had never known.

Little had he known at the time, that as he stood before the church that evening, it would be his last time as a mortal. He would not see those stone walls for another three hundred years, and by then, the grand building would have fallen.

He blinked, returning to the present, anchored by his wife's touch. "I'm fine." He reassured her. "It's just...difficult." To have someone to confide in about his deepest, darkest thoughts was something which Carlisle would never take for granted. Esme eased his pain and burned away his worry. But, after three hundred years of being alone, Carlisle still wasn't quite used to it.

"Take your time." Esme whispered. She couldn't say she understood, because she didn't, not really. When she had returned to her son's grave, it had been different. She had been once before, on the night she had jumped. She had said her goodbyes, regardless of how painful. Carlisle had not returned for three centuries. He had not said his goodbyes, not properly. This part of his life was as imbedded into him as a fisherman's hook. Only patience and care would ease the hook out without tearing away at him.

He gave Esme's hand another squeeze as he started to walk towards the church, his wife falling in beside him. She didn't speak; her simply being there was all the strength he needed. She anchored him to reality.

The doors were no longer there. All that stood in front of them was two crumbled walls. His memory served him well though. He could still picture the church in it's former glory, and that was enough. He was saying his goodbye, and his goodbye would be said to the church in it's prime, not the crumbled mess in front of him.

Old graves surrounded them, with names etched into them so long ago that they were barely readable. Only the wealthy had been able to afford graves. Those condemned as witches and wrong-doers were most often burned alive at the time where Carlisle's father had control. It wasn't a kind death, or a pleasant one. It wasn't humane, or quick. But, it had been the way of the past.

Carlisle placed his hand on the broken stone wall and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes. In his mind, he saw the face of his father, but for once, it was not one of disapproval or annoyance. Instead, his features were relaxed, no longer scrawling or sharp. He seemed at peace, at last. That was how Carlisle wanted to remember him. That was why today was so important.

He was nothing like his father. Carlisle had always been compassionate, and understanding, and a listener. But, he wouldn't be all those things without having his father in his life. He understood that now, which was something which had felt so impossible when he had been human. No matter how hard and lonely his life had been, it had taught him many lessons which had shaped him into the person he was now.

He sighed. After three hundred years, the weight was lifted off his shoulders at last.

"Goodbye, Father. I hope you found peace."

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I don't even know how many times I rewrote this chapter. I hope it gave enough light on just how hard an internal battle facing his past is for Carlisle. After three hundred years, you may think it would be easy, because it all happened so long ago. But, until you shine a light in the darkness, you aren't able to see whats lurking. Esme is his rock, his guiding light, but only Carlisle can face such demons.

- E x