lay with me

til the sun dries up and the moon gives up

kiss me

til we get lost in space

and

hold me

til the clocks run out of time

–unknown

Late one night, while the children were sleeping, Carina slipped into bed beside Rosalie with a book. The blonde didn't question it, thinking the newborn was going to read, and continued on with her own book.

A body pressed into her own, worming under one of her arms. Rosalie glanced down, arching a brow as Carina slid the book onto her lap.

The blonde slid it back.

"And what," Rosalie slowly asked. "do you think you're doing?"

"Read to me," her wife ordered.

"Oh?"

"Yes."

"And why should I do that, when it looks like you already got through the first chapter and have eyes for yourself?"

"Because I want you to," Carina slowly held out the book again. "And, actually, it was part of the second."

The Little Prince.

"You can still read for yourself," Rosalie half-teased. "It's only a children's book. Weren't you read to at least once when you were young?"

"Never," came the solemn response. "I picked this up for the kids, originally...I started reading it myself, first. It's alright. But I've never been read to, and I'd like it if you read it to me instead."

Her words and simple request had Rosalie taking the book this time, sitting her own aside as she opened it up to the place Carina had left off at.

Carina snuggled further into her side, and the blonde chuckled softly, briefly stroking the raven curls strewn across her chest.

She opened the book.

"If you please-draw me a sheep!"

"What!"

"Draw me a sheep!"

I jumped to my feet, completely thunderstruck. I blinked my eyes hard. I looked carefully all around me. And I saw a most extraordinary small person, who stood there examining me with great seriousness. Here you may see the best portrait that, later, I was able to make of him. But my drawing is certainly very much less charming than its model.

That, however, is not my fault. The grown-ups discouraged me in my painter's career when I was six years old, and I never learned to draw anything, except boas from the outside and boas from the inside.

Now I stared at this sudden apparition with my eyes fairly starting out of my head in astonishment. Remember, I had crashed in the desert a thousand miles from any inhabited region. And yet my little man seemed neither to be straying uncertainly among the sands, nor to be fainting from fatigue or hunger or thirst or fear. Nothing about him gave any suggestion of a child lost in the middle of the desert, a thousand miles from any human habitation. When at last I was able to speak, I said to him:

"But-what are you doing here?"

And in answer he repeated, very slowly, as if he were speaking of a matter of great consequence:

"If you please-draw me a sheep..."

When a mystery is too overpowering, one dare not disobey. Absurd as it might seem to me, a thousand miles from any human habitation and in danger of death, I took out of my pocket a sheet of paper and my fountain-pen. But then I remembered how my studies had been concentrated on geography, history, arithmetic and grammar, and I told the little chap (a little crossly, too) that I did not know how to draw. He answered me:

"That doesn't matter. Draw me a sheep..."

But I had never drawn a sheep. So I drew for him one of the two pictures I had drawn so often. It was that of the boa constrictor from the outside. And I was astounded to hear the little fellow greet it with:

"No, no, no! I do not want an elephant inside a boa constrictor. A boa constrictor is a very dangerous creature, and an elephant is very cumbersome. Where I live, everything is very small. What I need is a sheep. Draw me a sheep."

So then I made a drawing."

Rosalie glanced down at Carina while she read. The raven haired vampire was completely enraptured, listening intently. She could not resist a smile when her mate curled even closer, legs over her lap.

The story went on as the pilot described the little boy, and his woes of having been six years without his friend. He tried to draw him, but could never get it quite right, but he did indeed write the story.

Throughout the night she read uninterrupted, until they came to a specific part:

"But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world."

"I would think I could compare the fox to Luna," Carina murmured.

"That would mean you're comparing me to the rose, who was vain and prideful and drove the little prince away."

"But he loved her anyway," she was reminded. The newborn tugged the book a bit closer and flipped ahead a couple pages.

She quoted, "You are beautiful, but you are empty. One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you - the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars; because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or bloated, or even sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose."

"See?" Carina peered up at her with sparkling red eyes.

Rosalie found it strange how she was starting to love the color, if only because of the person the eyes belonged to.

"Yes," she admitted, tangling her fingers with Carina's on the newborn's stomach. "I see."

"Having a rose is exhausting, though. You're a lot of work."

Rosalie arched a brow, closed the book, and turned away.

Carina leaned over to see her face, raven hair making a curtain around them.

"I was only kidding," she tried. "Really. Keep reading?"

"You're cruel," the blonde hid her face.

With superior strength, Carina pried her hands away and flipped her over. "Yes."

"Just terrible. I'm not exhausting."

"Well…"

"Hey!" Rosalie huffed. "Let go, if you're going to be that way."

Carina did let go, but even as Rosalie set about ignoring her in favor of her own book, could feel eyes trained on her the entire time.

Finally, the blonde deigned to look up at her wife, who was sitting just far enough away that they weren't touching. Large, imploring red eyes caught hers.

"Love me?" Carina pleaded, holding open her arms.

Rosalie huffed for the second time that night and put her book down, picking up "The Little Prince" again.

"Come here, you idiot."

"Your idiot," the raven haired woman all but purred, curling around her.

"Sadly."

"Hey!"

"Now you know how I felt."

"Cruel."

"Yes."

"Just terrible. I'm not an idiot."

"Well…"

Rosalie and Carina stared at one another for a moment, and the latter was the one who broke first, shaking with laughter. She buried her face in Rosalie's shoulder as the blonde laughed as well, kissing her head.

"I'll keep reading if you can stop being so philosophical about everything."

"I love you."

"And I, you. Do you promise to be quiet for once?"

Carina only smiled.

~~~xxx~~~

During the day, Carina made up great stories to tell the children. She played and danced with them, brought them little presents, and told them how special they were.

At night, Rosalie was the one who read to Carina. It didn't matter what it was, or if she had been caught and told to read regardless of being halfway through. Every single time, her wife was utterly enraptured.

One day, Rosalie couldn't help but ask her how she could be so attentive.

"Because I love your voice," Carina had replied. Rosalie's heart had warmed.

The Cullen coven eventually decided to relocate, and Luna had been the one to convince Carina that moving would be fun.

"You have a villa in France," she had pointed out. "Emmett and I can stay with all of you. It'll be fun!"

So, here they were.

~~~xxx~~~

"I don't speak French," Carina grumbled.

"Il est temps pour toi d'apprendre, mon amour."

The raven haired vampire stared at her with wide eyes. "What?"

"It's time you learned, my love," Rosalie translated with a chuckle. "There are a lot of languages I'm fluent in. The only ones I've heard you speak are Scottish-Gaelic or Latin."

"They were for…"

"I know," the blonde stroked Carina's cheek. "I know. You've already said Gabrielle wants to come stay a summer with us. It will help to surprise her, won't it?"

"I don't know," Carina scrunched her nose down at the book, before pausing. "I do like it when you speak French."

"Oh? Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?"

With that, Rosalie stalked away, leaving her wife to call after her suspiciously, "What did you just say to me?"

She laughed quietly, but slowed her pace, waiting for Carina to catch up and realize.

It definitely didn't take long, if the way she were swept off her feet were any indication.

"You bloody minx! Don't just leave me like that!"

Rosalie shrugged, delighting in the reaction she was getting. Carina scowled down at her.

"Really," she repeated albeit exasperatedly. "You're killing me, Rose."

"I can't kill what's already dead."

Carina narrowed her eyes. "Smart arse. Now I know who to hit if our kids start talking back."

"You'd hit me?" Rosalie raised her brows, amused. "You do realize your newborn strength is almost gone."

"I can still overpower you."

Nimbly, the blonde hopped down and patted her wife on the cheek.

"I doubt it, darling."

Rosalie knew without having to turn back that Carina was watching her go.

~~~xxx~~~

Today was, most unfortunately, a very bad day for Carina.

First, the children had been wild. That was easy enough to handle, despite Aster vomiting on her and both he and Lyra staunchly refusing to relinquish their other mother.

So, Carina had went hunting, to prepare for when Gabrielle was sure to arrive.

That hadn't went well. Especially not since she had went alone, with no one around to help with her bloodlust.

She found her singer, terrifyingly enough, in an innocent little girl with brown hair and wide blue eyes. She had been so sweet, playing with her brothers in the garden…

Carina hadn't thought twice about it before snatching her up and devouring her. The little boys hadn't even noticed.

She had spent half the day, as well, reveling in the torture of a man she had caught beating a woman. Then another, and another (who may or may not have been innocent, but what had she cared?).

Carina returned home at nightfall, covered in blood, dripping it, even.

Rosalie met her at the door, nostrils flaring.

"You should have waited," she said flatly, and turned on her heel. "Go take a shower and we'll talk about it."

So, Carina did as she was told. She didn't return to the living room until she was positive she had cleaned herself thoroughly and burned the clothing.

Rosalie was waiting, arms crossed.

"What did you do?"

The raven haired woman paused, feeling the familiar pushing sensation in her mind as she attempted to use Legilimency to show instead of tell her.

Carina realized a few moments later why it wasn't working and clenched her fists.

"Went hunting."

"And?"

"That's it."

"Carina, you were soaked in blood. You had this look in your eye...what did you do?"

"Might have found my singer."

Rosalie frowned at her, looking rather sympathetic. Carina knew that wouldn't last as she spoke her next words.

"It was a little girl, about Teddy's age. I didn't fight it."

Rosalie tensed. Carina could hear her teeth grinding together. "Were you aware of what you were doing?"

"Mostly? No."

"And what else did you do?" her wife cooly inquired, a nerve having been struck knowing that a child was dead.

"Hunted some more, caught a few. I saw a man beating a woman in an alley...let's just say the rest of the day wasn't fun for him," Carina couldn't help but smile at the thought. His screams had quite honestly made her inner beast roar in triumph.

"And the others?"

"The same treatment."

Rosalie seemed to sense something off in the way she responded, for the blonde slowly demanded, "And what did they do do deserve it?"

"Absolutely nothing. They were scruffy, homeless...easy pickings. I didn't think they'd be missed, much."

"That didn't warrant you torturing them!" Rosalie drew herself up, more than a little irritated. "Carina, this is what I meant before, about it making you lose your humanity…"

"I was always like this," Carina couldn't help but snap. "I liked hurting people. I liked killing them. You ignored it, and that's your fault."

"Do you regret it?"

"The torture, or the little girl?"

"Either. Both."

Carina's jaw clenched. "Remorse isn't something I'm overly partial to. Or feel. I do regret that it was a child I slaughtered, but it couldn't have been helped. I'm young yet, and I couldn't control myself. By the time I realized what I was doing, I didn't want to."

Rosalie drew in a sharp breath, unneeded but necessary in an obvious attempt to calm herself. Knowing her wife, Carina supposed it was working very little.

"You should have waited. Or gotten Emmett to go with you. Hell, even Luna would have done!" The inevitable explosion came. "You reckless, psychotic—"

"Says the one who's killed before—"

"And for good reason, you just found people on the street and slaughtered them for fun!"

"Whatever happened to loving me no matter what I do?"

"I do love you," said Rosalie. "But sometimes, Carina, I really don't like you."

She turned on her heel and marched off, leaving the raven haired woman to hurry up the stairs to heed the cries of their children.

~~~xxx~~~

Carina had no idea what to do. She didn't feel the least bit sorry for anything she did, and Rosalie had been quite short with her since the other night. They hadn't even been in their bedroom together since, much less the same room for long periods of time.

Well, yesterday Rosalie had needed to go hunting, but today seemed like no excuse. Avoiding each other? Not a nice option.

"Mama," Teddy tugged at her shirt. "Where's Mummy? She mad at you?"

"Gone," Carina said shortly, turning away from him to continue cooking his food.

"Mama?"

His hurt little voice tore at her undead heart, so she crouched down beside him.

"I'm sorry, Ted," she held his little hand in hers, gentler this time with her words. "Yes, your Mummy is mad at me."

Teddy's lip quivered. "She gone forever?"

"No, Ted. Not forever. She'll be back today, she just needed space."

"Oh," the boy was silent for a moment. "What'd you do, Mama?"

"Remember when I said I hunt bad guys?"

"Uh huh."

Carina paused for a moment, inwardly debating on whether or not she should be telling a three-year-old this.

She did it anyway.

"I did it again. But I got some guys who weren't bad, too."

Teddy frowned at her. "But Mama, you's only 'pposed to get bad guys."

"I know, Ted," Carina sighed. "That's what your Mummy is mad for. Because I don't feel sorry."

"Oh," he said again. "Why?"

"Because I'm evil," she forced a playful smile at him, before patting his shoulder. "It'll be fine, buddy. Just go play until I'm finished, alright?"

"Kay, Mama." He threw his arms around her, planting a sloppy kiss to her cheek. "Love you."

Then, he was gone, leaving his stunned mother in his wake.

Carina would never get enough of when he did things like that, nor his easy acceptance of the fact that she had done something "bad." Then again, he was young enough that he probably didn't understand fully, anyway…

The vampire sighed and continued to cook, losing herself to her thoughts.

~~~xxx~~~

Later that evening, while Emmett and Luna played with the children and Gabrielle was visiting Tanya, Carina read a book.

Despite what most thought, she often did read. Though, rereading The Little Prince over and over and getting rather depressed about it didn't help her any.

It wasn't the same without Rosalie, who she was still irritated with and yet missed more than ever after just two days.

The children squealed, and Carina peered down from her perch on the roof, lazily watching. Lyra and Aster were being tossed gently up and down by Emmett, Teddy zooming through the air on a broom with Luna.

The sight made Carina's core ache so terribly that she doubled over, book sliding from her grasp as she gripped her sides.

"Ah," she hissed, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip to stifle a whimper. It were as though her body routinely punished her for what she did, would never let her forget it.

I hate you, a voice in her head whispered. Psychotic, reckless, good for nothing—

Shut up!

Carefully, tearing her eyes away from her shrieking son and delighted friend, Carina leaned over to grab her book.

It was gone, and she frowned, looking about for it. It was, yet again, nowhere to be found.

"I thought we finished this," a cool voice commented.

Carina's head snapped up. There Rosalie stood, in all her glittering glory. In the light of the setting sun, her eyes were like molten gold, absolutely gorgeous.

Carina doubted Rosalie thought the same in the face of her luminescent red eyes.

"We did," the raven haired vampire turned away, focusing on the sunset instead.

"You have a perfect memory. Why bother rereading it?"

"Sentiment?" Carina sighed. "Sit down. You're making me anxious."

Rosalie did not, merely stared down at her, rigid.

"You said once you'd do anything for me," the blonde said after a moment. "If I asked, would you convert?"

"I said nearly anything. No, I wouldn't."

Carina was about to add, I tore a part of myself away for you. I killed for you. I died for you.

She didn't. Somehow, she knew Rosalie heard it anyway, but she had tact enough not to say it, no matter how irritated she may be.

She, better than anyone, knew how much she could hurt someone. And she was really, really trying not to this time.

"I see," came the quiet response.

"How much to you love me?"

The question seemed to startle Rosalie, whose immediate, instinctive reaction was, "More than you'll ever imagine."

Carina slowly stood, fire flaring through her veins, and clenched a fist to hold in an outburst of temper.

"The greatest happiness of life," she carefully recited. "Is the conviction that we are loved; loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves. Do you know what that means, Rosalie? It means you're just as flawed as I am. You do wrong, and you do things I don't like. Sometimes, you make me absolutely furious. But you know something? I love you anyway, even the most unlovable parts of you. I'd expected the same."

"Carina…" Rosalie clenched her jaw. "It's not that I don't love you, all of you. But, I've come to expect the best of you. Overlooking your sadistic pleasure in torture...the child was what did it. Teddy's age, you said, a little girl. Everyone slips up, I understand. You've never wanted to harm a child, much less kill one. Despite her being your singer, realizing how intoxicating that is...I'd expected at least regret, if only for her. If it had been him, instead of her, how would you have felt?"

The ball of rage exploded.

"I'D KILL MYSELF!"

Rosalie blinked, but she had received her answer and watched carefully as Carina struggled to calm herself. She breathed in and out, but nothing was working, and she knew Emmett and Luna had heard.

"R-Rose?"

The pain in her core was back, spreading to her chest, and Rosalie was there in an instant. Any anger, any judgements, any arguments were forgotten as Carina was swept up into her arms.

"I'm here," Rosalie murmured.

"Rose," Carina breathed again, pressing closer and inhaling sharply. "Love me?"

"Always, darling. Always."

I don't own The Little Prince, though I do highly recommend it. If any of the French is off (I thankfully used very little), I apologize.