Carlisle's eyes burned into you. You were in trouble again and you were hurt - broken glass had cut your arm, forcing him to stitch it up and bandage it. But that was not all. Victoria wanted to kill you, wanted to taste every last drop of your blood. And she would not stop unless she was stopped first.

He hated the thought of anyone hurting you or ever hurting you. He hated seeing you like this - depressed, tired, but pretending everything was fine with that forced smile. He hated himself for not being able to protect himself today. The thoughts were eating him up, weighing on his mind.

The tenderness Carlisle felt for you was beyond words. It was something deep and sensual, coming from the very depths of his damned soul, which seemed to be healing next to you. And he was afraid of losing that light, afraid of losing you, because you were his light.

He watches you interact with Alice, laughing at her jokes and continuing to pretend that your arm doesn't hurt like hell and that everything is fine. This makes the vampire clench his hands into fists in frustration. His golden eyes are filled with sadness. The others clearly notice this, but they don't say anything, they don't interfere. The others know about his feelings for you, they know how important you are to him.