Late 1931 sometime
"You're sure you don't mind?"
"It's good for me to go out."
When the door opens, Esme's hair is tied back with a green ribbon, that matches the dress just barely peeking out from the bottom of a long, warm looking jacket, and her hand is already holding the bottom-crook handle of an umbrella.
They don't need it, but they don't need to arrive at the exhibit in soaking wet clothing either, no matter how much of it is driving. She's looking back into the house, back to Carlisle, who can't yet be seen through the door, before she turns to step on to the covered front.
Before she turns, the flash of a smile frozen for milliseconds before there isn't even a way to control the gasp that breaks it.
"It's good for me to go out."
When the door opens, Esme's hair is tied back with a green ribbon, that matches the dress just barely peeking out from the bottom of a long, warm looking jacket, and her hand is already holding the bottom-crook handle of an umbrella.
They don't need it, but they don't need to arrive at the exhibit in soaking wet clothing either, no matter how much of it is driving. She's looking back into the house, back to Carlisle, who can't yet be seen through the door, before she turns to step on to the covered front.
Before she turns, the flash of a smile frozen for milliseconds before there isn't even a way to control the gasp that breaks it.