Bella’s crybaby

Proud brother noises.

He blinked, always a step behind her. How he hated that gift of hers. . “I never said maid, love.” He responded, voice soft as velvet as he moved to traces a finger over her lips. “Honestly, I just wanted to watch you hunt. It still fascinates me. Though I am hungry.”

“How about —” He started, pressing a kiss to her lips everytime he paused. “I catch the mountain lion this time. Or, whatever you’re in the mood for. Of you can catch one for the both of us. I love watching you hunt. . ”

He nearly frowned, hearing Rosalie’s mental thoughts loud and clear. His own lips press to the top of her head, moving to try and catch her gaze. Should he take her away from here? Maybe a run would help?

. . . Fine. But on two conditions. She has to tell Bella. She’ll be crushed. And two, she needs to keep in constant contact with him. He gets worried.

|| omg I just remembered when my Edward used to get roasted for wearing khakis Good times

He’s sliding beside her, arm snaking around her middle. So this is where she’s been hiding?

|| I am the ultimate Barbie simp As if that wasn’t obvious already

He twitches, looking back down at his book. For what?

|| I think I miss them

He’s looking up from his book, brows pressed together. Absolutely not.

Brooding.

“What?” He gasped lightly, glancing up at the hand in his hair. In return, his own fingers pressed against her brow. “Please, have you seen your wrinkles?”

Glare.

. . This is rude.

It’s my face. .

Carlisle. .

He glowers at her, shaking his head. “He didn’t seem to think so.”

“You really like it?” He questioned, happiness filling his own irises. His hand trailed her forearm, dead heart warming. “Grandparents already. . ” he mused playfully.