"A bit uncomfortable," she mirrored.
I continued to look at her face. Each expression fluttered across with little time to settle. Her eyebrows pulled together and I wanted to take my thumb and smooth out the complexity lines. Trying to understand her thoughts was like trying to read sign language unknown to humans.
A new speculation loomed in my mind. I removed my hand from her, letting the cold return. Something was eating at me from the inside. I was bringing her into this mythical world. Each new revelation bringing her closer to the doom I was prepared to fight. Bella's face grew very grave. She was watching my expressions now, "What is it?" she asked gently.
She brought her hand to my face, trying to comfort me. I felt each pump of her blood. Her hand warmed my cheek to several degrees than my normal temperature. I sighed because I knew that I was inviting her to tempt fate and that I would allow it.
"I keep waiting for it to happen." I said quietly.
"For what to happen?" she asked urgently.
"I know that at some point, something I tell you or something you see is going to be too much. And then you'll run away from me, screaming as you go," I pasted a smile across my face, trying to ease the tension building inside me, "I won't stop you. I want this to happen, because I want you to be safe. And yet, I want to be with you. The two desires are impossible to reconcile..." I kept my eyes fixed on her, waiting for her to agree with me and just leave.
There was a long and painful silence before either of us spoke again.
"I'm not running anywhere," Bella promised with obvious triumph in her voice, like she was looking fate in the eye and taunting it.
I remembered the story, and thought that if I continued maybe, just maybe, she would hear something that would scare her away, "We'll see," I smiled.
Her lips turned down at the corners, a frown forming on her face, "So, go on - Carlisle was swimming to France."
I caught my breath, delighting in the ever present yearning in my stomach. I moved my gaze from her face to another painting deciding to continue, "Carlisle swam to France," I repeated, "and continued on through Europe, to the universities there. By night he studied music, science, medicine - and found his calling, his penance, in that, in saving human lives. I can't adequately describe the struggle; it took Carlisle two centuries of torturous effort to prefect his self-control. Now he is all but immune to the scent of human blood, and he is able to do the work he loves without agony. He finds a great deal of peace there, at the hospital..." I trailed off, my thoughts moving in a different direction.
I willed myself to be like Carlisle. I wished to have his self control, to never have to second guess my senses. I inhaled; something I used to do to calm myself, but now it brought red hot flames ripping down my throat. I mentally shut out the yearning I had now. I remembered what my purpose was for this conversation. I brought my hand to the painting in front of us, tapping lightly on it.
"He was studying in Italy when he discovered the others there. They were much more civilized and educated than the wraiths of the London sewers." I said while lightly tracing the figures in the picture; the Volturi.
I was so deep in thought, remembering things that Carlisle had seen when a startled laugh burst out of Bella's lips. I turned to see what the matter was; thinking that maybe she finally had lost it. Dawn crossed my face as I realized what she was looking at. It was Carlisle's face in the painting with the Volturi.
"Solimena was greatly inspired by Carlisle's friends. He often painted them as gods," I laughed at the impossibility that any vampire could ever be a god, "Aro, Marcus, Caius," I explained as I pointed each one out to her, "Nighttime patrons of the arts."
Her eyes darted from the painting to me face, "What happened to them?" she questioned.
Her hand reached up to touch the figures in the painting but her finger never touched.
"They're still there," I shrugged, "As they have been for who knows how many millennia. Carlisle stayed with them only for a short time, just a few decades. He greatly admired their civility, their refinement, but they persisted in trying to cure his aversion to 'his natural food source,' as they called it. They tried to persuade him, and he tried to persuade them, to no avail. At that point, Carlisle decided to try the New World. He dreamed of finding others like himself. He was very lonely, you see.