Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer is the rightful owner of Twilight.

~.~.~

It was one of those afternoons where it was just Edward and Esme in the house due to Carlisle working at the local hospital. Earlier that day, Esme had requested Edward to buy her supplies to knit -seeing as she wasn't comfortable being around humans just yet.

There were too many hours in a day where Esme was alone, entirely without Edward or Carlisle to keep her company, and sometimes painting or doing yard work just wasn't enough. The brunette was in the sitting room, closing the book she had just finished when the front door swung open. Edward walked in with a parcel in his hands.

"Was it awkward?" Esme asked, getting up from her seat, taking the small box in her hands, and moving over to the small table in front of the couch.

Edward placed his books and a few of the posts that he had collected on his way home. "Not really," Edward pursed his lips, a chuckle escaping his lips, "however, it was for the owner's daughter."

Esme rolled her eyes with a smile as she opened up the package and quickly took out the knitting needles and the various balls of yarn that were in there. She was satisfied with the colors that Edward chose for her, a few colors, and many neutral. "Breaking hearts without even knowing," Esme murmured, placing her items in a basket, disassembling the box and handing it to Edward to put in the fireplace.

"Oh, I know," he laughed and proceeded to head into his room with his belongings.

With another roll of her eyes, she sat down and began to work on her new project.

Esme had noticed that Carlisle owned a few scarves, something that enthralled her. It was rare when she saw him without one —a topic she never dared to touch if it was too personal for him. All of his seemed to be a tad tattered, here and there.

She sighed and hoped he liked it; her fingers carefully handled the fragile pieces of yarn.

"He'll love it!" Edward called from upstairs, Esme laughing.

~.~.~

Perhaps she wasn't aware of the amount of time she spent knitting, because when the sound of the automobile pulling up the driveway and footsteps up their front porch, she jumped at the sudden noise. Edward was cackling upstairs, undoubtedly reading her mind. Esme rolled her eyes and looked down at the products of her knitting project. She found that she used up most of the yarn and made what seemed to be an unfinished blanket after she finished the scarf.

Before she could react, Carlisle was already inside, gently placing his medical bag and coat on the hooks that were by the door. Esme could faintly smell blood on his person -a smell she became accustomed to tolerating slowly. "Hello, there." Esme looked up at from putting away her knitting needles when Carlisle greeted her.

His smile was breathtaking; something Esme wasn't quite used to just thus far. "Hi," she breathed out as he leaned down to kiss her lips lightly.

"Let me go change, and we can go on a walk," Carlisle murmured against her lips, straightening himself quickly and flying up the stairs. Not a beat passed when he was downstairs, by Esme's side.

"Ready?"

"Ready," Esme confirmed, taking his hand and in her other grabbing her scarf that she knitted.

As they silently made their way towards through their usual path, with nothing but the moonlight illuminating the way, Esme noticed he wasn't wearing his scarf. "Um, I made you something," she whispered, shyly looking up to look at her husband.

Carlisle stopped, looking down at Esme. A crooked smile was gracing his lips. For the time that Esme was living with them, and even after they married, he was the one that customarily graced her with gifts. "Oh?" He was very much surprised.

Biting her lip anxiously, Esme handed him the item. She watched him as his eyes widened, getting brighter as realization dawned on him. He handled the scarf with such care, admiring the color scheme that she chose. It was thick, yet lightweight at the same time. Carlisle quickly wrapped it around him, holding an end and bringing it to his nose. It faintly smelled like Esme.

"Do you like it?"

Carlisle laughed and brought her in for a hug, her arms wrapping around his waist as he stroked her hair lovingly. "I love it, darling," he murmured onto her hair. "Why a scarf, though?"

Pulling back, Esme gave a gentle laugh and toyed with the hem of the scarf. "I noticed you always wear a scarf, and I thought maybe I could make you one," she shrugged, looking up at his eyes. The golden pair of eyes stared intently to her eyes that resembled a sunset. The orange and golden colors were slowly overtaking the red.

"Can I ask? Why are you always wearing a scarf?"

Carlisle sighed and held his hand for hers, and they proceeded to walk their usual path. "Perhaps it's a form of comfort," he managed out after thinking about it momentarily. "See, as you know, I wasn't always comfortable with what I was," Carlisle explained, looking down at her as she nodded. Esme recalled the story of his creation, saddened that he wanted to off himself.

"I was -well, still am quite insecure over my scar, so I thought a scarf would be the best way to hide it, especially now that they are in fashion."

"Is that why you didn't bite on the neck with me?" Her fingers lightly tracing the small bumps along her shoulder blade, an area that could easily be hidden with a blouse.

A sigh escaped his lips, and Carlisle nodded, looking up at the full moon that lightened their path. "It is," he admitted.

"I'm not ashamed of it," she whispered back. If anything, she was more than grateful for this second chance at life he has given her. "D-do you feel vulnerable when you don't have it on?"

"In a way, yes, I feel like I'm exposing myself."

"You don't have to hide from me, Carlisle," Esme giggled, leaning onto his side.

"I'm glad I don't. I won't." He laughed out, kissing her head one more time.

~.~.~

A Few Decades Later

Esme sighed as she was packing away her and Carlisle's belongings. Their whole life packed once again in boxes in preparation for yet another move. It was something the brunette has gotten used to - the constant moving and hiding their true identity.

Over the past few decades, their life has changed tremendously. They got four new 'children,' and later on, she gained a daughter in law and a granddaughter, something she didn't think would happen. That little girl brought such joy to their lives.

Esme chuckled to herself as she reached Carlisle's massive collection of scarves of the years. Some old-fashioned, some tattered, and some with the tags still on them. It was quite a challenge to discontinue some scarves in his possession; however, it seemed that he kept the ones that held meaning.

Right when she got to the last of his collection, she noticed that a certain wasn't there. Furrowing her brows, she checked his suitcase and the box where his scarves were, and yet it still wasn't there. Before she got to her belongings, thinking she probably placed it there by mistake, Carlisle walked into the room.

"Perhaps we should christen this room, one more time," Carlisle's voice echoed through the now almost empty room, their bed being the exception.

Without looking up, Esme laughed and shook her head. "The kids are still here, sweetheart." The sound of the bed creaking caused Esme to turn around from her spot on the floor. Esme's eyes widened, a small smile on her lips.

There in all his grace was Carlisle laying on their bed, hands behind his head, shirtless with only the scarf that she gifted him long ago around his neck. He had a playful smile on his lips as Esme walked to the bed. "You didn't think I'd get rid of this, did you?" He teased; his eyebrows cocked.

"I thought you would've gotten rid of it."

"Never, my love. It's my prized possession."