Work Text:
1911
Columbus, Ohio
What a stupid idea... But the tree had seemed to be waiting for Esme, extending its branches to her, its leaves looking so comfortable. So she'd climbed it, up and up until a branch had failed to support her. And she'd fallen on the ground, about 20 meters down.
Her mother had been upset when she'd found her, lying under the giant oak, clutching her leg with her hands. She'd already told Esme a hundred times that climbing trees was 'very unladylike'. But Esme couldn't resist the appeal of it. Painting trees didn't satisfy her, she had to touch them, to feel them. Lost in her dreams, she'd forgotten to pay attention to the branches, growing thinner and thinner, until her weight was too much.
Now she sat in her father's coach, her face distorting with pain at every jump of the vehicle over an imperfection of the road, which were numerous on this little country trail. They were taking her to the hospital. It wasn't that far, but the journey seemed endless to Esme.
When they finally arrived, Esme was relieved. The pain was about to end. They took her to a little white room on the second floor, told her that a doctor was coming, and then left her alone. As she sat on the bed, looking around this ordinary hospital room, Esme tried to distract herself from the pain by observing the sky outside the window and trying to imagine people and objects in the fluffy clouds.
Lost in her thoughts, Esme didn't notice when the door opened. The person who'd opened it didn't move any further, so she assumed, without lifting her gaze, that someone had made a mistake and left. But then a voice said pleasantly, making her jump :
"Good morning."
She looked up. Her mouth, opened to greet the stranger, didn't produce a sound as she took in his appearance.
He was tall, but looked unusually young for a doctor. He had wavy blond hair and pale white skin, His face was incredibly beautiful : His nose was straight, his eyes were some kind of magnificent golden-brown that radiated warmth, and his perfect lips formed the most breathtakingly kind smile Esme had ever seen.
She snapped back to reality as he spoke again in a gentle voice :
"I’m Doctor Carlisle Cullen. Pleased to meet you."
"I'm Esme Platt," Esme said. "Enchanted."
She smiled, embarrassed by her previous staring.
"You broke your leg, is that it ?" asked Dr Cullen, smiling.
"Yes," said Esme.
Trying to distract herself from this perfect man, she looked at the wall in front of her.
"Can I have a look at it ?" he requested, pointing at her leg.
"Sure," replied Esme. "That's why you're here, isn't it ?”
As she finished her sentence, she realized how impertinent it was and quickly looked at him to apologize. Her mother often told her off for being impertinent.
But the doctor was quietly laughing as he said :
"Of course."
Still smiling, he gently reached for her leg. She had to stifle a gasp when she felt him touch her. His hands were cold, but the main cause of her reaction was the electricity that sparked between his body and hers.
He delicately pressed different parts of her leg, asking her if it hurt. Each finger that lightly touched her made her tense. She was aware of each square centimeter of their skins that were in contact.
Finally, he raised his beautiful head and said ;
"Well, Miss Platt, it looks like I will have to set your leg. See, the bone here isn't in its right place; I have to put it back so it will heal."
People usually never bothered to explain these sorts of things to Esme. They expected her to accept whatever they said and go along with it. After all, she was only a woman - and she was sixteen. Dr Cullen was different ; Dr Cullen listened to her and explained to her what he was doing
"Will you set the bone yourself ?"
"Yes. It is my job, after all."
He smiled. He was the most gentle and patient man Esme had ever met.
Then his smile disappeared and he added :
"I'm afraid it will hurt a lot, though."
"That's okay, Dr Cullen. I'll just put up with it."
"You are one brave young woman, Miss Platt."
Esme blushed.
"Please call me Esme."
She couldn't think of anything else to say and she longed to hear her first name in his melodious voice.
"Only if you call me Carlisle."
"All right, Carlisle. It's an exquisite name for an exquisite person."
"Thank you, Esme. It means a lot to me."
He smiled, and Esme could've sworn she felt a current of hot air swirl across the room. He was like a sun, radiating in the sky, providing everyone with his light and warmth, but desperately unattainable. As high in the sky as he was, it didn't stop him from caring for the miserable creatures so inferior to him…like Esme.
“Would you tell me how you broke your leg ?”
“It’s really stupid,” Esme said, embarrassed.
“I have a friend who says that accidents and injuries always happen stupidly,” he replied, smiling.
“Well, I was up in a tree and, as I climbed on a branch higher, it broke, and I fell.”
Esme cringed in her bed, anticipating his negative reaction, but he only chuckled.
“I know very few young ladies who climb trees, Esme – in fact I don’t know any.”
Esme lowered her head, ashamed.
“My mother scolded me for it. She said I wasn’t behaving like I ought to, and that I was a disappointment.”
“I don’t believe you’re a disappointment, Esme,” Carlisle said gently. “When I was a child, I used to love climbing trees.”
“Thank you,” Esme mumbled. His kind reassurance warmed her heart.
To think a stranger comforted her instead of her mother! Wasn’t it supposed to be her role ?
Her father was just as bad.
"Do you want me to set the bone right away, or do you need some time to get ready ?"
Carlisle’s voice interrupted Esme’s internal monologue about her incompetent and unloving parents and Esme emerged brutally from her thoughts.
"But aren't you busy ? I mean, you can't afford to waste time like that when I'm sure you have plenty of other patients waiting to be treated."
"Time spent in your company isn't wasted."
A charming smile spread on his lips.
"Besides," he added, "if it weren’t for you, I’d still be in my office, filling in some files. You really aren’t keeping me from anything primordial."
Esme hesitated.
“In that case,” she said, “I’d rather wait a little.”
She didn’t really need it, but she was sure that once the bone was set and the cast done, Carlisle would leave. And she didn’t want that.
“Of course,” Carlisle said.
An uncomfortable silence stretched as he stood awkwardly next to Esme’s bed. Esme didn’t know what to say.
After a little while, he took a chair, brought it near the edge of the bed, and sat on it.
“Tell me something,” he asked.
“Anything ?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then…” Esme was unsure what to say. “My favorite color is yellow. But not flashy yellow that hurts when you look at it. More like a golden yellow.”
“Is that so ? Why ?” he enquired.
He looked truly interested, waiting for her next words, eager for her answer.
“It’s warm,” Esme said. “It’s the color of daylight. It kind of inspires hope, don’t you think ?”
It’s also the color of your eyes , she added in her mind. Although yellow had already been her favorite color before she knew Carlisle, she’d never see that color again without being reminded of him.
“What’s your favorite color ?” Esme asked.
“Blue.”
He smiled.
“Is there a reason why ?”
“I don’t know. I’ve liked blue for as long as I can remember. I guess it has a sort of calming effect,” he added thoughtfully, then shrugged.
Esme wanted desperately to hear more of his soul pour out of his heavenly lips. She longed to know Carlisle, truly know him. She never would of course, because once she left that hospital she’d never see him again. It didn’t stop her from wishing the impossible. After all, the golden color of his eyes inspired hope.
“Do you have any siblings ?” she asked.
“No. Do you ?”
“I don’t either.”
“My turn,” Carlisle said. “What is your second name ?”
“Anne — it’s my mother’s Christian name. What’s yours ?”
“Actually, I don’t have any.”
He smiled a little sadly.
“If you had one, what would you like it to be, then ?” Esme said.
“I don’t know… My father’s first name, I suppose.”
“What is it ?”
He smiled sheepishly.
“I cannot remember. He died a long time ago.”
“Oh. I’m sorry,” said Esme. “How old were you ?”
“A lot younger than now,” he eluded.
“And how old are you now ?” insisted Esme.
He only gave her an enigmatic smile.
“Take a guess.”
“Twenty-three ?”
He gazed at her with a little surprise, then regained control of his features.
“Well…”
He looked away. Esme couldn’t tell what was the problem. She hadn’t said anything especially rude, had she ? Carlisle looked so young compared to the other doctors, but if she had estimated his age to be lower than it really was, he would’ve been happy to look younger than his true age, wouldn’t he ?
Carlisle began speaking again.
“Actually,” he said, “I am twenty-three, but I lied about my age so I could be enrolled here. Everyone believes me to be thirty years old.”
“Thirty !“
How could anyone believe that ?
“But you look so young ! Don’t people think it's strange ?”
“No one really questions anything I say,” he admitted sheepishly.
Esme smiled.
“Too distracted by your inhuman beauty ?” she assumed.
“It does influence a lot of their behaviour towards me, I suppose.” He laughed, half-sad, half-amused. “But I hope they also really respect me and trust my medical knowledge.”
“I do,” Esme assured.
She also did think him inhumanly beautiful, but hoped she wasn’t so shallow that she’d value him so much if he wasn’t.
“Thank you.”
Another beautiful smile.
“Tell me,” she said, “how long have you been a doctor ?”
Carlisle hesitated.
“I started studying the subject when I was your age.”
“Sixteen, then ?”
“Yes.”
“What made you want to become a doctor ?”
“I wanted…to help people. To save lives. Maybe in some way I wanted to matter to someone, to be useful - even if it's only for a small thing - like a broken leg,” he finished, smiling at Esme.
Esme blushed lightly.
“Tell me,” said Carlisle,” what do you want to do when you’re older ?”
“I’d like to be an architect, I think,” Esme said thoughtfully. “I love art and math, so it’s pretty much the dream job for me.”
“It’s a good idea,” Carlisle approved.
After a short silence, Esme decided :
“I think I’m ready for you to cast my leg now.”
“All right.”
Carlisle carefully positioned his hands around Esme’s calf. Electricity flowed again where his fingers touched her skin.
“Ready ?” he verified one last time.
Esme took a deep breath, trying to concentrate on something less inappropriate than him touching her bare calf, then smiled at him.
“Yes.”
A sharp snapping sound made her ears cringe as a terrible pain pierced her leg and she grabbed Carlisle’s forearm instinctively.
“Ow !” she shouted.
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“There, there,” Carlisle said soothingly. “Your bone is set now. You’re okay.”
He stroked repeatedly the back of her hand, which he now held in his own.
Esme breathed deeply again, crying silently. After a while, she regained her composure.
“Thank you,” she said to the doctor.
“You’re welcome,” he said. “I know it’s very painful, but it was necessary. Now I’ll be able to put the cast on your leg.”
As he worked, Esme couldn’t help but ask :
“Excuse me, Carlisle, but… are you British ? Because you’ve got, you know, an accent…”
Esme felt a little foolish. So what if he was British ?
“I am,” he said. “I was born in London.”
“That’s nice. I’ve never been anywhere outside of Ohio. Was it good there ? What made you come here ?”
“It was…all right. But eventually I got bored. I couldn’t find anything interesting. I traveled a little across Europe, went to France, then spent a few years in Italy. In the end, I emigrated to the US. Where would you like to go if you could go anywhere in the world ?”
“Anywhere in the world ? Mmm…I’d say western Europe. France, Italy, Spain, England, Germany… What is a place that you have never been to, but would very much like to visit ?”
“This is a tricky question… I’d like to travel more in a few years. I’ve only been to some European countries and to the United States. I’d say maybe Eastern Asia.”
“I’d like to go there, too,” Esme said.
“I’m sure you will, one day,” Carlisle promised.
He raised his head from her leg and told her :
“There ! Your cast is done.”
“Thanks,” Esme said.
“You’re very welcome.”
Carlisle smiled, and Esme got lost in his deep golden eyes.
Suddenly, a nurse entered the room, interrupting their silent staring.
As they both straightened up, Esme realized they'd been leaning towards each other.
"Dr Cullen, you are needed in the surgery room ! A young man has had an accident, and he suffers from a wound to the head. He may have a crack in the skull," the nurse said.
Esme noticed the blush on the nurse's cheeks as she looked at Carlisle and that her words were more stumbling when Carlisle met her gaze.
"I'm coming," he said.
The nurse left.
"I'll be back after I make sure everything is okay," Carlisle promised, a smile on his perfect lips.
And with that he departed, leaving Esme dazzled in her hospital room.
Two hours later, Carlisle came back, carrying a tray filled with food.
“Lunch time !” he announced brightly.
He smiled at Esme as she propped herself up against the pillow, her heart beating faster as she looked into his eyes. He placed the tray on her knees.
“Thanks,’ Esme said gratefully.
Her stomach had been grumbling for an hour, but she hadn’t dared call anyone to ask for food. She quickly dug in, and she was already halfway through her mashed potatoes when she realized that Carlisle was just sitting, not eating anything, in the chair he had occupied before his departure for the surgery room.
“Is it good ?” he asked.
She swallowed her mouthful, then answered :
“Yes – do you want some ?”
She was feeling a little embarrassed to be watched as she ate.
He hesitated, then said :
“Please.”
She gave him her fork, and he took a small portion of food.
“Thank you,” he said once he had finished.
Esme took the fork back and began eating again.
He spoke again :
“I think you’ll soon be able to go back to your home.”
“Oh.”
Esme dropped her fork, not hungry anymore though mere seconds ago she had been starving.
“When ?” she asked.
“This evening,” Carlisle sighed. He seemed as unhappy about her close departure as her. “Once I’ve checked you up one last time.”
“Why can’t you do it right now ?” Esme wondered.
“I can, actually, but I tried to delay it as much as I could, because I enjoy your company,” he told her shyly. “But I can do it now, of course. You probably just want to get back home anyway, it was foolish of me to assume — ”
“Carlisle,” Esme interrupted.
He looked at her with those dreamy eyes of his.
“I’m happy you did it. I enjoy your company as well.”
I even have a major crush on you , she added in her mind.
“Well, then, if it’s all right… we could talk, maybe ?”
“Sure,” Esme said. “Tell me … how many languages do you speak ?” she asked, picking the first question that she could think of.
“Let me see…seven,” he announced.
“Seven ?! Wow. Which ones ?”
“English, obviously, Italian, French, Spanish, Portuguese, Russian, and a little German.”
“But you’re so young ! When did you ever find the time to learn all that, what with your job and all ?”
He smiled, but Esme thought his smile looked almost forced.
“I, uh, don’t sleep a lot - and I don’t practise any special activities outside of work, nor do I go out a lot.”
“But don’t you have a family to look after ?” Esme asked, surprised.
“I don’t, actually. I have no wife and therefore no children.”
He was single ! How was that even possible ?”
“You’re lucky to be a man,” Esme sighed. “I’m only sixteen, a fact which my parents keep repeating to me, but they don’t think it’s too young to marry. They’re looking everywhere for potential suitors, and the thing they fear the most is me ruining my reputation and theirs. They’re very anxious that the story of how I broke my leg won't spread.”
“I’m terribly sorry. It must not be easy to live with such a family. And you are so young…”
“The worst is that they force me to act ‘ladylike’ and don’t allow me to do as I see fit. The thing is, I am young and I do make mistakes. But… they’re mine to make. Mistakes and experience are what shape one’s character, after all.”
“You are completely right, of course. I wish more people thought like you. The world would be a better and kinder place.” He sighed. “I dearly hope that you get to choose your own husband -– as every woman should. Having to spend your entire life with someone who was forced upon you… it’s a cruel system. Maybe one day this will all change.”
Stunned, Esme stared right into his compassionate gaze. She had been sure that, as perfect as he had shown himself before, he’d tell her to accept her fate. She’d spoken nonetheless, because she needed to, and because he’d listened to her all day and patiently answered every prying question she’d asked. And now… now, she felt so much lighter, the constant pressure on her chest slightly eased because a stranger had listened to her problems and understood.
“I hope it will,” she said, thanking him wordlessly in the way she looked at him.
He gave her a warm smile that meant You’re welcome .
Carlisle and Esme talked all afternoon about their lives; their dreams and their opinions, slowly getting to know each other. However, time still passed, and it was soon time for Esme to go home. Her father came to fetch her with the carriage.
“You ready, Es ?” he asked as he entered her room.
He didn’t ask about her leg. He didn’t ask how she was feeling. He barely even looked at her, too concentrated on the work that had to be done at the farm.
Esme tried to get out of bed, but only managed to almost fall as soon as she set foot on the ground. Thankfully, Carlisle was there and he caught her in his arms.
“I’ll go wait outside,” Esme’s father sighed, annoyed and impatient to go home.
Esme was too distracted by Carlisle’s closeness to even hear that he was talking. His citrusy scent went to her head and made her dizzy. She was comfortable in Carlisle’s arms and didn’t want to leave them. Finally, Carlisle gently set her back on her feet and gave her crutches so she could walk without help.
“Well, Miss Platt, it’s been a pleasure,” he told Esme.
“It was enchanting to meet you,” she replied, desperate to get more time with him.
But she had to go.
“I hope you have a good life,” Carlisle whispered, before lightly kissing Esme’s forehead.
Esme’s skin tingled where his lips had touched her.
“Goodbye, Carlisle” Esme said regretfully. “I hope you’ll be able to visit Eastern Asia.”
“I hope you’ll be able to visit Western Europe.”
They exchanged a desolate look and Esme was able to gaze into his beautiful golden eyes one last time.
“Farewell, Esme Platt.”
And then Carlisle left.
On her way home, in the carriage, sitting with her silent father, Esme couldn’t help blushing as the memory of the dreamy Dr Cullen floated again and again in her mind. She knew her thoughts would echo his name, until she saw him again (which might never happen — and she still had to deal with the wedding problem). But she had a feeling that kind Dr Carlisle Cullen would be the only man to ever enter her heart, and that he’d stay the only one her entire life.