I'll be home for Christmas

Chapter 65

Chapter 65 - I'll be home for Christmas

Disclaimer: the characters and all recognisable situations belong to Stephenie Meyer - this is a work of fan fiction, except for the legends and histories of the Quileute that, of course, belong to them. I pay my respects to their gods.

Thanks to BanSidhe [ruadh sidhe] and Feebes86 for betaing and pre-reading.

Edward was playing the piano. The music he was playing had not been heard in the Cullen house for many years. When he stopped, Carlisle was brave enough to enter the room.

"That was her tune," said Carlisle carefully. It was a long time since he had heard his son even touch a keyboard.

"Yes. The lullaby that I wrote for her. My Isabella."

"Are you okay, son?"

"She's my singer, as Aro called her. Odd, isn't it? That was the first time I had heard the term. I should have guessed; her blood did sing to me. Calling to me in the sweetest tones."

Carlisle waited for Edward to continue. Sometimes they spoke as an actual two-sided conversation. Even though Edward could read his mind, he needed to know which of the thoughts that passed Carlisle's mind was the one he wanted to voice.

Edward added, "She's the one person that appeals to me in a way that no other person does."

"Plus, she can shield you."

"Exactly. Not only is her blood so incredibly potent to me, but she is the only person in all my years and all my traveling whose mind I cannot read."

"I believe her shield is so intriguing to you that it actually made her more attractive to you."

Edward picked out notes on the piano. His head resting on his arm along the top of it. He was unusually slouching like a teenager. "We did not have that many things in common," he said idly.

"She's not into music in the same way that you are," Carlisle conceded.

"No. She didn't read as widely either. Always sticking with her favorite classic English novels. She barely read classic American literature."

"I had always imagined you with another musician… a cellist, perhaps," Carlisle added. "To join you on the piano."

"If she was a vampire… she would have enough time to learn any instrument she wanted."

That comment unnerved Carlisle a little. She no longer wanted to be a vampire; they all knew that. "Sometimes a hundred years of practice will not replace a gift that does not exist in the first place."

"Do not worry, Father, I will not do anything rash. It has been made abundantly clear to me that she no longer feels for me the way she used to."

"The feelings and emotions of a vampire last longer than those of a human."

"Perhaps… even epic vampire love relationships do not always continue. Our family is rare with its long term bonds and none of you are actually bonded to your singers."

"Of all of us, only Emmett has even met his singer."

"Yes," Edward agreed. "He had the extraordinary luck to meet two! Of all of you, he is the only one who could possibly understand."

Carlisle was silent.

"And that went so well," said Edward sarcastically. "He is a better vampire than a gentleman." Emmett had lost control. The overwhelming need to slake his thirst had been too much for him and he had drained them both within minutes of scenting them. He did comment later, that one was tastier than the other. Emmett was still not a very good gentleman.