Kapitel 29: Touch

Carlisle's fingers were delicate. He didn't know the meaning of the word. Adelaide had always scorned him, chastizing him for ruining fragile vases and beautiful pens. They snapped and shattered whenever Carlisle touched them. He was carelessly strong, brutally powerful, and he had never minded. 

Strength was what he needed to survive. Carlisle viewed strength as his own blanket of protection. He wanted to save those around him so he used his magic and pure raw swordsmanship to do so. He didn't care about the repercussions of vases or fragile plates and glasses. 

Francesca had laughed, finding it hilarious that Carlisle broke things with such ease. She said that it didn't bother her that he broke things, but he had never asked if it did bother her. 

"Who?" Carlisle asked. "Did someone hit you?" 

I swallowed. Was he upset? I knew that my face was important but I hadn't thought that he would be this upset, "It won't bruise or scar."