Saturday, April 7, 2012

Figure Eight Teaser

I curled up on one of the couches, picking up a newspaper. I flipped through a few sections, not really focusing on the words.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

I looked up and saw Carlisle. He was holding two cups of tea. “It’s chamomile. I know that it’s not masculine to drink tea but fuck it. I need to calm down.”

“I’m more partial to Earl Grey,” I snickered. “But, I’ll take this. Please tell me that there’s no cream in here.”

“Ew, no,” Carlisle shuddered.

“Good. Herbal tea and cream is just foul,” I smirked. I sipped the hot liquid, smiling softly. It wasn’t as good as tea from home, but it was damn close.

“Want to talk, Edward?” Carlisle asked.

“Not really,” I shrugged. “I’m just nervous. I can’t get my mind to shut down.”

“That’s understandable. This is your debut with Bella on the National arena,” Carlisle murmured. “How is she doing?”

“She’s resting. I just couldn’t stay still and I figured I could get up, calm myself and then go back to bed,” I sighed. “This is also the first major competition that I’ve been in since…you know.”

“Your dad died?” he asked. I nodded, propping my head on my knees. “Edward, he must be so proud of you. You have to know that.”

“I do, but it’s not the same. Mom will be here for the long program but it’s…hard,” I sniffled. “There are times when I think I’ll get a phone call from him or a random email. Then I see the ring on my right hand, his wedding ring, and then I remember. He’s gone.”

“Skate for him,” Carlisle said simply. “In your mind, focus your attention on making this program for your dad. It’ll help you, knowing that he’s watching you.”

“Thanks, Carlisle,” I smiled softly.

“You’re welcome, Edward,” he said as he sipped his tea.

“Now, I do have a question for you,” I smirked. “What are your intentions with my mom?”

“She told you?” Carlisle blushed. I nodded. “We’re taking it slowly, Edward. She’s still getting over the death of your father and I don’t want to push her. But, I’m in love with Esme.”

“Just don’t hurt her, Carlisle,” I said.

“I won’t. I couldn’t,” he whispered, looking into my eyes. “She means too much to me. So do you, Edward.”
I bit my lip and nodded my head slowly.

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