Edward-Carlise Historical OOM's Two
Time is inconsequential to them.
Time bends and breaks and folds in their different world.
There is no falling asleep, no waking up, only the times when Carlisle works or the time when they cannot be outside in the sunshine or time to hunt again. The rest is the same endless, spinning free open time, that hasn't closed since Edward opened his eyes in that small dank apartment. The same endless, spinning free open time which will be afforded to him for all of eternity.
Time is inconsequential to them.
They are both at the beginning of something terrifyingly and wonderfully new.
Carlisle counts the months and keeps track while Edward delights in an endless exploits of an edgeless world. They hunt wild game across the border in Canada, and aside from Carlisle showing up one last time to the hospital to resign his position and make sure Edward Masen's death certificate is never filed, they abandon Chicago entirely. There is nothing left there but dying people, and while Carlisle is still drawn to easing the burden of those suffering people, his action that night has already chosen who he will help first.
It's an entirely new world. A century had come and gone since Carlisle had anything resembling a peer and never had he had a companion who brooked no complaint at his habits, nor whom had chosen to resolutely follow them alongside him. Edward, free of all but the faintest, blurry shadows of life behind him, found himself in a leisure he'd never known.
Time is inconsequential to them.
Especially in those moments right after they've glutted their fill for the evening. When everything is smooth and calm, surrounded by the unquiet nature that is aware of the monsters in its midst.
Sitting on a boulder, Edward fingered the rip in his bloodied shirt, unnoticed earlier in his enthusiasm for the fight and subjugation of the now still and empty carcass of a large elk. "I think we could leave now."
Time bends and breaks and folds in their different world.
There is no falling asleep, no waking up, only the times when Carlisle works or the time when they cannot be outside in the sunshine or time to hunt again. The rest is the same endless, spinning free open time, that hasn't closed since Edward opened his eyes in that small dank apartment. The same endless, spinning free open time which will be afforded to him for all of eternity.
Time is inconsequential to them.
They are both at the beginning of something terrifyingly and wonderfully new.
Carlisle counts the months and keeps track while Edward delights in an endless exploits of an edgeless world. They hunt wild game across the border in Canada, and aside from Carlisle showing up one last time to the hospital to resign his position and make sure Edward Masen's death certificate is never filed, they abandon Chicago entirely. There is nothing left there but dying people, and while Carlisle is still drawn to easing the burden of those suffering people, his action that night has already chosen who he will help first.
It's an entirely new world. A century had come and gone since Carlisle had anything resembling a peer and never had he had a companion who brooked no complaint at his habits, nor whom had chosen to resolutely follow them alongside him. Edward, free of all but the faintest, blurry shadows of life behind him, found himself in a leisure he'd never known.
Time is inconsequential to them.
Especially in those moments right after they've glutted their fill for the evening. When everything is smooth and calm, surrounded by the unquiet nature that is aware of the monsters in its midst.
Sitting on a boulder, Edward fingered the rip in his bloodied shirt, unnoticed earlier in his enthusiasm for the fight and subjugation of the now still and empty carcass of a large elk. "I think we could leave now."