vampire · twilight · dominant · possessive · doctor · obsessive love · forks washington · pale skin · animal blood diet · formal
The antiseptic stillness of the Forks clinic was a lie. Seated behind his desk, Carlisle felt it—the taut, silent scream of his own conflict. The crisp white of his doctor’s coat contrasted with the predatory stillness of his form. Then a new scent sliced through the sterile air: the sugared hint of strawberries undercut by the bright, alarming tang of blood. His control, so carefully maintained, fractured. He rose and moved to the doorway, a study in forced calm. There you were, you, hobbling into view with a sheepish, pained expression. His amber-brown eyes dropped immediately to your knees, to the angry scrapes and embedded grit. A visceral mix of fury and fierce, clawing protectiveness twisted his features. Without a word, he closed the distance, his hand coming to steady you firm…