Esmerie wanted nothing more than to RUN. Her whole body screamed for it. But her body was tired. Her feet and her shoulder ached. She wouldn't make it farther than a few blocks in her current state. And... despite the suspicious fear that fought to claw itself free from the back of her mind... this family seemed kind enough. 

The rag was cool and comforting, Hiram's hands tender and gentle as he purposely moved slower than usual for her sensitized perceptions. Instinctively, she curled into his lap as he took her hand. It was a surprisingly intimate gesture between two strangers, and yet, somehow it felt like the most natural thing in the world. She against his hard edges like a soft, plush, puzzle piece; the perfection of it sealing off the leaking, emotional aches that had plagued him lifetimes over. She sighed as she relaxed against him, and the weight of her soft cheek on his chest felt like gravity... as if her presence held him anchored here. 

"He's going to come after me, isn't he?" She asked without lifting her head. The numb surety of her tone assuring him that he didn't need to answer. 

"What about the others? Will he hurt them if I'm not there?" He felt her shift beneath him, her dark eyes searching his gaze with pained worry. "What about you and your brothers? ... do you...?" 

The feeling of another being seeking unbidden comfort in his embrace was enticingly unfamiliar. How long had it been since a companion sought him... rather than the other way around? Could he even remember? Her dark eyes pried into his heart as she stared at him... silently begging for reassurance, for safe harbour from the insanity that had just made landfall in her life like a raging hurricane, for an anchor against the crushing waves of fear and confusion that threatened to sink and drown her in her own mind. 

The expression was clear... and shockingly unexpected. She needed him.

"If I know Carlisle like I think I do, he won't harm them if you aren't there. He won't even stop aside from your wagon for but a moment." Hiram smiled softly, looking down at her, the weight of her gaze up at him foreign. "Do we, what?" His brow was lifted in question, unsure of exactly what she meant with her question.

"Do we hurt people? Would we hurt your people? What is it you need to know from me?"

Esme actually laughed... it was cold, cynical, and sardonic... but it was a laugh. 

"Of course you hurt people," she snerked... snuggling closer despite the oxymoronic nature of the gesture juxtaposed to her words. "I... do you... are..." she struggled for a moment, an almost maniacal chuckled escaping her painted lips as she searched for th e words to frame her concern. "Are you gonna eat me?" 

She looked back up at him with an expression that was both somewhat embarrassed - fully aware of the childish nature of her querry - but also ENTIRELY practical. Silly or not it was a valid and direct question. One which drew an audible, choked chuckle from Christian that echoed, stifledly down the hall from behind the closed office door.

Hiram slowly laughed, slowly building into a big, belly guffaw. "Oh child! Oh dear child!" he coughed out as he tried to stop himself, finally gaining a bit of composure back... And grinning.

"Only if you want me to."

He smirked, running fingers through her dark curls. "And, of course, not in the way you're thinking." Resting his head on her's, he continued as he rocked her. "My brothers and I do not eat from the living. Humans at least. We have deliveries from the hospital where one of the human's working with us lives. We do employ humans who know. Most of the ones we've put through their schooling. They are the ones that help our family remain in the shadows."

Continuing to rock her back and forth, he kissed the top of her head without even thinking about it.

"Animals, though. We do not have an issue feeding on animals if there is a need..." He chuckled, albeit a bit sardonically. Animals did not taste as good...

Esme squirmed a little, his words causing an unexpected flush to pulse through her... which she was confident he would sense despite her humane attempts at hiding it. 

'And what if I want you to?' the thought crossed unbidden through her mind... making her gasp and tense. What the fuck was wrong with her??

Shaking her head, she snerked softly, doing her best to push the unwelcome words from her mind as flushed heat rolled off of her in heavy waves, carrying her scent with it. 

"...okay..." 

The affirmation came out soft and unsure, almost whispered; brushing like a feather against the bare skin of his neck as she sighed. 

Lacing her arms around him, she tucked herself even closer as she settled into the calming rhythm of his rocking. What she had seen and experienced tonight was - by far -  the strangest and most terrifying events of her already strange life. Yet, somehow, the quiet, unimposing, looming ineludability of his presence inexplicably calmed her. 

It should have been alarming, intimidating, horrifying. Every other creature found it so. In fact, to have any normal sense of camaraderie, he usually had to alter people's minds and perceptions as his father had done with her. And yet, for whatever reason - be it his father's touch, or the girl's sense of fate, or something altogether different... she found the inevitability comforting; like the slow, inescapable crawl of fate or the familiar embrace of an old friend. Silently, she accepted it with a melting surrender as she rested and relaxed into his arms. 

"We can go and collect my things tomorrow. There's not much I need or want to take, anyway. Just... um..." she blushed a little as she looked up at him, a pale peony pink colour her cheeks, as she whispered, "Just don't leave me, okay?" 

Her fingers clutched at the fabric of his shirt. And in her trembling, he recognized his own lonesome fear of perpetual abandonment. He'd spent his whole life clinging to others, praying they wouldn't leave him... again. And now, oh how the tables turned. Could he ever leave her? This tiny, touched thing that clung to him like he was life itself? Even if he did, couldn't she just track him down like he had done his charges so many times before? 

Suddenly, he felt trapped... like a fly in a web. Drawn forward against his better judgement like a moth to a flame. He wanted to run. He should definitely run. Running would be the intelligent, rational thing to do. And yet, he could not for the life of him convince himself to push her away. No matter how much he feared for his freedom or sanity, he was tied to her against all rational odds. And the soft, tinkling feminine laughter that filtered down from the closed office door only made the irony of the situation all the more biting. Is this what it felt like?

His foot tapped uncontrollably as he sat there, doing his best to not alert her to his fidgeting from the idea of being trapped. He could feel the weight of it already pressing in on his chest, like someone sitting on top of him and he couldn't breath; if he needed to breath... Taking the moment, he slowly inhaled, trying to ease the "RUN BITCH" thoughts that permeated his conscious mind. Finally, he exhaled and calmed himself.

"I'm not going anywhere. Besides, it's not like you couldn't find me even if I did..." He chuckled nervously. He'd never been in this kind of situation before and it made him uneasy. It certainly made him think about the way he'd chased after women before. Not that she was a threat to him, no, but that he'd never be able to escape that grasp... That memory... That knowing and longing.

Wrapping his arms around her, he settled into the thought of it. Sure, he was no longer free... That much was true. But it wasn't all bad, was it? She was pretty. It could be far worse. His fate could have been hideous, or worse, useless... Or both! "Parish the thought!" he spoke out, shaking his head before pausing and looking down. "Um... Sorry. Don't mind me." He snickered and rested his head on hers. The smells... He smiled. It probably couldn't have been a better match...

Esme blinked up at him with a playful quizzical expression. What on Earth must be going through his mind, she pondered to herself before being overtaken by a wide yawn. 

"Oh... oh my. Forgive me," she blushed, covering her mouth daintily with the back of her hand, "I'm afraid my day seems to be catching up to me. I should..........." 

She nearly choked on her words as the room fell into a long and silent pause. What exactly should she do? 

Go home?? Knowing that a monster could likely kick down her door any moment now? 

Stay?? Was that really a better option? Was it even an option at all? 

Confounded, she croaked softly, lips still slightly parted mid-sentence as she struggled to decide how to continue. 

"... umm ... ?" 

She pressed her lips together, frowning a bit with the realization that she was utterly stuck in a catch 22. 

"Should I...? I mean... do you think...? Would it be...? How do we...?" 

With a groan of frustration, she planted her face in the center of his chest. "I need sleep," the blunt statement rumbled through his chest, muffled and exhausted.

"We've got more than enough extra rooms... Come, you can stay here for the night."

He stood and offered his hand, helping her from her seat.

"The guest rooms are this way," he started up the stairs and paused, looking back and waiting for her to decide before leading her up the flight of stairs to the second floor where he picked one of many doors on either side of the hall and escorted her into a fully furnished room with its own private bath.

"You're welcome to anything here, the only thing we ask is you stay out of Christian's study, and the master rooms." He smiled and pointed to the bathroom. "There is a shower, or bath if you'd prefer, and the closet is stocked with towels. If you leave your clothes out by your door in a basket," he pointed to a wicker basket near the door, "the staff will take your items and wash them. They'll be dried and folded, then returned to your door before you wake... Most likely. Sometimes it's not quite as fast as you could hope." He shrugged. "Some people don't sleep as long as others." He chuckled.

Standing at the door, Hiram smiled. "If there is anything you need, then you can ring the staff by dialing nine. Otherwise, my room is the first door down the hallway off the main den. Anything else?"

Esme shook her head silently. With a soft smile, she snagged his hand as he turned to leave; lifting his palm to her lips. "Thank you," she whispered, closing his fist around the light crimson stain that lingered on his palm. Her thumb traced silent circles along his upturned wrist for a few agonizing moments before huffed out a soft smirk and turned away. 

She was exhausted, somewhat terrified, bemused and bewildered. But... at least she felt safe. And the room was certainly nicer than ANYTHING she'd experienced thus far. Maybe sneaking in wasn't such a bad idea after all. 

... maybe ...