Dance
Esme liked to dance. She didn't dance much as a mortal, but once she was turned she did it as often as possible. There was too much grace in her movements not to indulge in swaying to the music. In the first years after she was turned she would coax Edward into playing for her on the piano. The music would fill whichever home they were at, and she would dance alone to the music he provided her with.
Sometimes she would feel someone watching her. She knew it could not be her son because he was focused on his music when he played. Her eyes would open and she would seek him out wherever he may be watching from.
There was always the smile on his face. That gentle compassionate smile that made her heart feel as if it was still pounding in her chest. She'd extend her hand and he would slowly make his way to her. His grace more exquisite than she could ever hope to be.
Carlisle would dance with her for hours. Edward was more than happy to indulge them. After all, it was their favorite moments together as a small family.
Sometimes she would feel someone watching her. She knew it could not be her son because he was focused on his music when he played. Her eyes would open and she would seek him out wherever he may be watching from.
There was always the smile on his face. That gentle compassionate smile that made her heart feel as if it was still pounding in her chest. She'd extend her hand and he would slowly make his way to her. His grace more exquisite than she could ever hope to be.
Carlisle would dance with her for hours. Edward was more than happy to indulge them. After all, it was their favorite moments together as a small family.