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Dear Dr. Cullen

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Screams echoed through the night, the metal sounded as if it was singing as it began to break apart, furniture fell from the railings, tumbling into the freezing cold Atlantic sea. The moon was standing high, shining down onto the two thousand people that were currently crying for help, trying to cling to one another, trying to make it into a rescue boat somehow.

Her clothes were sticking to her body, dress completely soaked through, barely covering her trembling frame. (Y/n) could feel the biting cold deep in her bones, nibbling on her skin. If she wouldn’t make it into a boat within the next minutes she’d most likely freeze to death.

She caught Wallace Hartley’s panicked gaze, staring at the violinist as he kept on playing, tunes getting drowned out by the sobs and screams that left the passengers.

It felt like a nightmare, the ship that had been built to survive for decades was sinking, just days after leaving Southampton. Four days, it had taken them four days to find their eternal end, like a bad joke that was missing its punchline, not able to deliver the one message it was working on.

(Y/n)’s naked, cold feet tapped against the wet wooden flooring, running towards the tall, pale man she had been looking for, lunging herself into his arms, clinging onto him for dear life. She waited for a heartbeat, rapidly matching hers, accelerating with every metallic scream that rang in her ears, but she couldn’t hear a sound, his chest was barely rising and falling.

“Remember what I’ve promised you?” His cold breath fanned over her lips, teeth clattering, head nodding.

“Have you ever been on a ship before?”

He tried to distract her, hands placed on her jaw, moving her head from one side to the other. The doctor moved in quick movements, could clearly tell how uncomfortable she felt. Two hours after boarding the unsinkable ship she had felt her insides churning, body not used to the constant swaying she’d have to endure for the upcoming week.

“No.”

The clipped, short answer barely left her lips, hand shooting up to her mouth, trying to stop herself from throwing up. It was unladylike of her to act this foolish in front of a man, a man this handsome, though in that very moment she didn’t seem to care, breathing through her nose, eyes squeezed shut.

Dr. Cullen’s chuckle managed to momentarily lift her mood, lips pulled into a tight smile, hands falling back into her lap. (Y/n) couldn’t imagine going through this for days on end, body not made for swaying in motion with the waves, she couldn’t wait to feel solid ground beneath her feet.

“My father was a doctor just like you-” a deep breath got sucked into her lungs, heartbeat slowly calming down, “- I always thought he’d be here with me today.”

“There’s no reason for you to be scared, I promise as long as I’m near there won’t be any harm coming your way.”

Oh, how she had hoped that he’d stay true to his words, the ship hadn’t been built to sink, had been crafted to carry passengers back and forth, not for it to break apart in the middle of nowhere. (Y/n) was slowly losing feeling in her limbs, no longer trusting herself to move away from the man she had been falling for.

He had been a true gentleman, bypassing her in the hallways, welcoming her into his study hours before he’d accompany her to the dining hall. It seemed as if he had been on his own, just like (y/n), welcoming her presence to keep himself distracted, to focus on the task at hand, taking care of those in need.

Carlisle Cullen would make his rounds through every class, trying to help those who were falling ill, due to their motion sickness, to the rapidly changing weather conditions or to the food they were getting served. He didn’t seem to care about class standards, about living true to his etiquette, he was a doctor, a man created for those who were relying on him.

On the first night on board the ship she had bumped into him as she was getting lost on her way to the à la carte restaurant, glad that he offered to take her there.

“May I?”

He pointed towards her arm, interlocking it with his, carefully pulling her into the right direction. Carlisle couldn’t rip his gaze off her features, eyes wide as she took in her surroundings, mesmerized by the luxurious furniture, the paintings that were hung up on the walls.

“Would you sit with me, Dr. Cullen?” She asked as he pulled out her chair, hand placed on top of his cold one, not sparing his abnormal body temperature another thought. It had been her one chance to sit with a man without her mother near to interrupt the calm atmosphere, all alone on board the massive ship, making her way across the Atlantic Ocean to start a new life.

Every graceful movement of his left her breathless, admiring the golden eyes, the carefully slicked back, blonde hair, perfectly matching his pale tone. He looked like a god, handcrafted by an antique sculptor, a man like you’d only find in your dreams.

That night he had sat vis-à-vis from her, politely declining any food or liquor he got offered, fully entranced by the stories she shared with him. As her meal had arrived it had been (y/n)’s turn to listen to the calm words he’d speak, filling her in on the passengers’ situations in the classes below them, about the poor conditions they were forced to live in.

“Will you take me with you down there?”

As a small smile tugged on his lips his name got called from the other side of the dining room, golden eyes snapping towards the waiter. With an “excuse me” flooding from his lips he left her table, buttoning his vest, following the man out of the room.

(Y/n) wanted to run after him, giving into the pull she felt in her chest, though her mother’s sharp words echoed in her mind, reminding her on how to behave around other people, fine people whose behaviour she should adapt.

So, she stayed seated, no longer indulging in the heavenly taste of the dish she couldn’t even pronounce, though wondering where he had been called to, if the doctor - who she couldn’t stop thinking about - was yet saving another life.

“(Y/n),” he whispered her name, hand placed on her shoulder, ripping the young woman out of her thoughts. He grasped her hand, helped her out of her chair, pulling her down the hallway with him. By now Carlisle was carrying a black bag - the one that was holding all his medical equipment in it.

“Here’s your chance, your father was a doctor right? Do you know how to sew?”

Before she could reply he had opened the door to a cabin, gently pushing her inside, instantly letting her focus switch onto the crying girl. Blood was trickling down her legs, parents nowhere near in sight. Her instincts told her to comfort the girl, to wrap her arms around her, soothing the pain that kept its hold on her.

But Carlisle stopped her before she could take a step towards the bed. He slipped out of his vest, rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, opening his bag. His movements were almost graceful, going through the routine that seemed natural to him.

“I need you to close the wound on her leg.”

No questions were asked as he pushed the needle into her hand, giving her the approval to step towards their patient, watching Carlisle disappear into the bathroom. Hushed voices talked behind the door, followed by a few pained screams.

(Y/n) tried to focus, sewing together the open flesh, trying to stop the blood from oozing out of the wound. All those times she had watched her father taking care of his patients were coming in handy, taking away all her anxiety. She had done this before, knew how to take care of cuts.

Just as she had finished her task a small, high pitched scream echoed through the air, followed by a relieved one. (Y/n) couldn’t stop herself from moving towards the bathroom, opening the door, freezing as her eyes fell upon a blood covered doctor that was holding a newborn in his hands, carefully patting it dry.

Scared that she’d disturb the moment she kept her mouth closed, watching him with admiration laced in her gaze.

The feeling of his cold hands placed on her cheeks welcomed her back into her sad reality, small of her back pressed against the metallic railing, watching glass break out of the window frames, shattering on the floor, falling into the sea. (Y/n) could watch her breath pour from her mouth, teeth clattering louder with every passing moment.

They’d need a miracle to make it out alive, bodies not made to survive in the cold - at least not hers. She didn’t know anything about the secret he was keeping from her, not knowing that if one of them would die it would be her, not the doctor that had his arms wrapped around her waist, protectively chaining her to him.

“We’ll get you onto a boat, I promise.”

Another promise he intended to keep, Carlisle Cullen had been created to help people, to keep them alive for as long as humanly possible, he wouldn’t watch her die, not tonight. Parts of the ship were already covered by the dark sea, it wouldn’t take much longer till the whole metallic body would drown, no longer staying afloat.

“I wish we would have met under different circumstances.”

His lips no longer felt cold though warm as he pressed them against hers, pulling her into his lap, hands placed on her sides. It had been a long day, their third night on board of the unsinkable ship, spending their time helping other passengers, sharing stories as they walked from one cabin to another.

As they had made their way through the lower deck, exploring the different cars that were parked in rows both suddenly froze, gazes falling onto a fogged up 1911 Renault AX Limousine with a handprint pressed against the cars window. Heat had crawled up her spine, coaxing an embarrassed giggle out of her, following a smirking Carlisle out of the dark hall.

She felt exhausted as they had stepped into his study, leaning into his side, inhaling the calming scent of his cologne. He smelled clean, from washing his arms and hands with soap after every visit, smelled like the sweetest wine she’d sip as he’d watch her with his golden eyes.

No longer could she focus on her exhaustion, mind screaming at her to make another move, arms wrapped around his neck, shuffling closer to the groaning doctor. The room was heating up, the atmosphere buzzed, the tension between them kept on growing, urging them. on to keep on kissing, properly exploring one another’s bodies.

Wordlessly he asked for her consent, fingers toying with the lacing of her dress, running his digits along the silk, waiting for her approval. The grinding of her hips encouraged him, carefully undoing the knots, helping her out of her dress. His hands cupped her breasts as their lips met again, kissing one another as if it was their last day on-board.

How ironic, how oblivious, how naive.

The feeling of his fingers dancing along her naked skin left her back arching, pressing her naked chest against his still clothed one. Another breathy moan spilled from her lips, hands trembling as they tried to undo his shirt, desperate to free him from his clothes. She needed him, needed him to soothe the ache between her thighs, taking care of the arousal that dripped from her tightness, soaking through her underwear.

Expertely he rose from his position, placing (y/n) on his table, standing between her spread thighs. Both wouldn’t waste much time with any meaningless touches, ready to connect their bodies in the most intimate way.

She watched him pull down his trousers, underwear falling to the floor, leaving his hard cock exposed, ready and throbbing, leaking drops of salty precum. He looked like an immortal being, like the ones you’d hear about in tales and stories, no man would ever be this handsome. No words would manage to capture the beauty of Carlisle Cullen.

The moment his hands cupped her sex she was done for, mind blank, body guided by her instincts.

“Are you sure?”

It was a simple question, a question she couldn’t reply to, a question that hung in the air, unanswered. She pressed her lips against his, wrapped her legs around his waist, digging her heel into the small of his back.

“Please” was the only word that would leave her mouth in the upcoming minutes, no longer able to control herself.

He stretched her, filled her to the brim, making her feel as if she was burning alive. Every touch of his managed to shoot tingles right through her, guided by the pleasure, allowing the man to gain the upper hand, fucking her on his table. It was a sinful sight, a man as old as Carlisle Cullen taking care of a woman that young, though ready to give herself to him.

Her walls swallowed all of him, clenched around his cock, pushing them higher and higher. Their moment wouldn’t last long, though both didn’t seem to care, only focused on the intimate gestures they shared, bodies pressed together, hips meeting with every thrust of his.

They moved with the motion of the waves, rocking in sync with every high and low, getting lost in one another. Their own ocean of pleasure began to pull them under, consuming them both, forcing them to give into the feeling, no longer able to breathe, no longer able to swim, though drowning together.

Moan after moan bubbled out of her, filling his study, followed by a few groans of him. They were a mess, a mess made for one another. She fell apart on his length, clawed her fingernails into his shoulders, holding onto him as her orgasm rocked through her.

“Do you see -” he had to tighten his grip, feet slipping along the wooden floor, about to touch the freezing cold water “- the boat over there?”

(Y/n)’s gaze followed Carlisle’s, falling onto an almost empty boat, whimpering a small “yes”. They’d have to swim, without a lifevest clinging to their bodies, forced to make it through the dark water, but there was a slight shimmer of hope deep inside of her, maybe just maybe they did have a chance, a chance to make it out alive.

“Swim.”

It was a simple command, a command her brain couldn’t grasp, not understanding that he wouldn’t follow her. He had to take of the other people, though Carlisle couldn’t do so without knowing that she wasn’t safe.

“What about you?”

He didn’t reply, kissed her breathless, forehead falling against hers, mumbling a small “go” against her lips. She clung to him, hands fisting the fabric of his shirt, not letting go of him, she couldn’t, needed to stay near him, body not able to move away from him. The slight, careful push he gave her ripped (y/n) away from him, feet coming in contact with the salty ocean.

Tears ran down her cheeks, chest heaving, plagued by the sobs that clawed through her.

Carlisle watched her turn her back on him, taking a deep breath, mumbling words to. herself that got drowned out by the sound of metal clashing against the rough water surface, another funnel that had just disappeared. Time was running out, time had forsaken them, not giving the helpless, drowning people a chance to make it to safety.

Every stroke she did burned in her upper arms, she was exhausted, felt herself getting lost in the water every now and then, lungs burning, trying to fight against the will to give up. No longer could she feel her body, but (y/n) was determined, determined to make it to the boat that was so close, though yet so far.

Hands reached for her, pulled her into the wooden boat of safety, allowing her to fall against the body of another passenger, arms pulling her into a warm chest.

She was safe, she was safe, she was safe, but he wasn’t.

Panic rose in her veins, head lifted off the chest, eyes searching for his bright hair. He had to be somewhere close, would have rescued himself onto another boat. Words of reassurance got whispered, hands tried to keep her seated, scared that she’d do something reckless in her panicked state.

His name left her chapped lips, burned on the biting marks her teeth had left. He had to be here somewhere. Dread filled her, mind running through all the scenarios that filled her head. He had to be here somewhere.

By now the ship was just about to disappear beneath the surface, sinking to the ocean’s ground. The unsinkable ship was sinking, the Titanic no longer lived to see another day.

He had to be here somewhere.

Just as the last funnel crashed from the body of the ship she heard a faint voice whispering her name, golden eyes met hers, matching the relieved expression that washed upon her features.

He was safe.