Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

JASPER HALE 

Time unfolded at a languid pace for vampires, whose existence spanned far beyond the fleeting moments of mortal life. What might feel like mere minutes to a human could stretch into centuries for them, transforming the slow passage of time into an almost surreal experience. With each year, they witnessed the rise and fall of empires, the gradual shifting of landscapes, and the continuous cycle of life and death, all while remaining untouched by the relentless march of time. In their world, the ordinary rhythm of hours and days seemed to dissolve. 

Jasper Hale—or rather Jasper Whitlock—felt the weight of the world pressing down on him as he paced restlessly. Each moment felt like an eternity, and the anticipation gnawed at him. His existence had been a relentless battle from the moment he awoke to his second life, full of turmoil and strife, a struggle that had persisted until this very day. He had faced countless challenges, and while he was no stranger to adversity, the prolonged waiting was more agonizing than any fight he had endured.

It had been nearly sixty years since he first met Alice, the enigmatic and spirited vision who had so effortlessly captured his heart. She had urged him to join her, luring him with her promises of an existence free from the shackles of death, of a loving family that would embrace him, and, most importantly, the intimate connection of finding the other half of his soul. Her words had lingered in his mind for decades, echoing like a gentle melody, rich with hope and longing.

"I swear she'll change everything," Alice had assured him with that disarming smile, her voice cutting through the hum of the diner as rain drummed against the windows on that fateful afternoon in Chicago. The soft glow of the diner lights contrasted with the stormy skies outside, creating a warm cocoon where his dreams seemed suddenly possible. "You'll be happy," she had promised, her eyes brimming with sincerity. 

He felt a deep, gnawing longing for her, a yearning that chewed at his insides like a persistent ache. It was peculiar, almost maddening, especially since he didn't know a single thing about her—her name, her voice, or her appearance. Alice had repeatedly warned him against seeking too much knowledge about his mate. She had explained, with a furrowed brow and a tone heavy with caution, that revealing specific details about the woman destined to be his soulmate could alter the course of events she had seen in her visions. Alice valued the delicate threads of fate and wouldn’t dare risk unraveling them for the sake of his own yearning for clarity or reassurance. He could tell it pained her to keep such knowledge to herself especially when he fell into a low and darkened place. 

As the years slipped through his fingers like grains of sand, the absence of his soul mate became an unbearable burden. Time felt like an endless stretch of solitude, making him question everything he believed about her existence. He couldn't shake the unsettling thought that he had perhaps not crossed paths with her during the vibrant eras of the 1960s or the eclectic 1980s, that she had lived her life on this Earth, moving through day to day before her human death, while he had remained blissfully unaware. Maybe Alice, in her protective nature, was holding back the truth, too frightened of the implications it might create.

A darker specter loomed over his thoughts—what if this woman he ached for was merely a figment of his imagination? A clever ruse crafted by fate or by Alice, designed to draw him into their family. The more he pondered these possibilities, the more he found himself spiraling into doubt. Was his soul mate real, or simply a cruel mirage, a device to tether him to a destiny he had yet to understand? The quest for answers continued to haunt him, fueling his obsession and tormenting his restless spirit. 

 "You're obsessing," Alice’s voice chimed with a lightness that filled the room as she glided effortlessly into Jasper's bedroom. The term 'walked' hardly did justice to her graceful movements; she seemed to float across the polished hardwood floor, the cloud covered sunlight streaming through the windows catching the glimmer in her dark short hair. Jasper tossed aside the neglected book that lay open on his lap, sending it tumbling onto the couch beside him. He looked up at Alice, who had so masterfully entangled him in this intricate web of family ties and the complicated masquerade of high school life.

"I reckon I have a good reason to," he countered, allowing his natural Southern drawl to slip comfortably into the air. In the safety of their home, his accent unfurled like a flag, a reminder of his roots that felt both comforting and foreign. Outside of these walls, however, he was forced to cloak his identity, to mask the way he spoke. Their family had recently uprooted and moved to Forks, Washington, and just like their previous charade in Alaska, he would now be playing the role of Rosalie’s brother. It was a carefully constructed facade that was as fragile as it was necessary. 

It would be nearly impossible to rationalize why he sounded like a cattle rancher who had just returned from a dusty rodeo, while Rosalie, in stark contrast, presented herself with all the poise and refinement of a wealthy business magnate’s daughter. The thought made Jasper’s insides churn, the pressure of maintaining appearances suffocating. Each day felt like a performance, and he was afraid of stumbling in the act.    

   "You just need to be patient," she reassured him, her voice soothing as she glided gracefully around the room. With purpose, she began unpacking his belongings from the hastily packed boxes, meticulously organizing them back into their rightful places. He watched her, a mix of admiration and frustration bubbling within him as he observed her cheerful demeanor. She hummed a lively tune, one he couldn't quite place, and exuded an unshakable calmness that both puzzled and intrigued him. If she seemed so unconcerned, he thought, maybe he should try to feel the same way. But how could he dismiss the swirling anxieties in his mind? His future—his happiness, his very sense of self—hung precariously before him like a fish on a line, tantalizingly close yet just beyond his grasp.

"I'm tryin'," he responded, his voice tight and strained as he filtered through his emotions, the words coming out clipped and sharp.

Alice paused, turning back to him with a warm smile, her hands cradling a stunning marble bust of a cowboy astride a spirited horse. It was an impressive piece, the details carved with remarkable skill and precision. Her eyes sparkled with a wisdom he felt he had yet to attain as if she held answers to questions he hadn’t even thought to ask. “Just a little bit longer,” she encouraged, her tone filled with an unwavering belief in the process, hinting at a sense of hope he desperately needed to cling to.

ELOWEN REED 

The soft morning light, dulled by a blanket of clouds, filtered gently into the bedroom, casting a warm, inviting glow that danced across the walls. Elowen slowly stirred from her dreams, her body reluctant to leave the cocoon of warmth created by her thick, cozy blankets. She instinctively burrowed deeper, seeking the familiar comfort as her eyelids grew heavy once more, trying to hold onto the fleeting moments of sleep for just a little longer.

In the hushed stillness of the room, she could hear the faint creaks of the old wooden house as it settled, and the trees dancing in the wind outside her bedroom window. Elowen knew, however, that her sanctuary would soon be interrupted. Her grandmother, a petite yet surprisingly energetic woman, had a way of more than making her presence felt in the house. Elowen could already hear the familiar sound of her grandmother’s footsteps—light in intention but heavy in execution—as she made her way down the hallway, preparing to burst into the room with the enthusiasm of a morning bird. With a deep breath, Elowen surrendered to the inevitable, knowing that soon the comfort of her blankets would be replaced by the excitement of the day ahead. 

"Time to wake up, my little dove," Lucille announced cheerfully as she entered the dimly lit bedroom, the soft morning light flooding in as she yanked the heavy curtains open. The brightness of the day seemed to mock Elowen, who groaned softly, burying her head deep beneath the cozy layers of her blanket. Just as the room began to brighten, a sudden thump resonated as a small, furry creature clambered onto her stomach, its paws kneading rhythmically. It was Oliver, her playful stray-turned-pet cat, who shared her grandmother's affinity for early morning wake-up calls.

“Five more minutes, please, Nana,” Elowen pleaded, her voice muffled by the blankets. But her grandmother was undeterred. With a gentle tug, Lucille pulled the covers from Elowen's face, revealing a mass of red frizzy, tangled hair that framed her sleepy visage like a wild halo. Lucille couldn't help but chuckle softly at the sight. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, she meticulously brushed aside the unruly strands that had fallen over Elowen's eyes, allowing the morning light to illuminate her granddaughter’s sleepy features.

“Sorry, dove," Lucille said, her tone affectionate yet firm. "We can’t afford to be late for your first day back at school, can we? What kind of role model would that make me?” 

“A fun one?” Elowen retorted, raising a playful eyebrow. Her emerald eyes shimmered with a blend of mischief and desperation, resembling a small puppy gazing longingly through a pet store window. Lucille shook her head, a mock-serious expression washing over her face.

“Now, those little puppy-dog eyes might work wonders on your grandfather, but they won’t sway me,” Lucille replied a playful tone in her voice. She stood up, stepping back from the bed with a flourish. “Up, up, up! Your Papa is making breakfast burritos!” she whispered conspiratorially as if sharing a secret of a hidden treasure, her eyes sparkling with excitement. With that, she made her way out of the room. 

Elowen glared at Oliver, who had also jumped off the bed, his tail held high as he trotted after Lucille. He turned back momentarily, offering a pathetic meow that seemed to echo his betrayal. The teenage girl huffed in frustration, rolling her eyes. “Traitor,” she muttered under her breath, even as she felt the weight of her blankets pulling her back into the comfort of sleep. But with the promise of breakfast burritos lingering in the air, she knew she’d have to face the day sooner rather than later. 

By the time Elowen finally pulled herself from the warmth of her cozy bed and finished getting ready for the day, the sun that had just begun to rise was now entirely obscured by thick, brooding storm clouds, which loomed ominously over the town. Fat droplets of rain cascaded from the heavens, tapping rhythmically against the windowpanes. With a sense of urgency, she hastily swapped her light, knitted sweater for a sturdy raincoat, its fabric muffling the cool air as she strode purposefully down the creaky wooden stairs. 

Elowen’s grandparents’ house was a charming if somewhat outdated, two-bedroom cottage that shared the same modest aesthetic as many of the homes in their quaint little town of Forks. She often mused that the town seemed frozen in time as if the modern world had forgotten about it entirely. The walls of the house, adorned with faded wallpaper and splashes of color from her grandmother’s love of floral patterns, were likely insulated with brittle newspaper from the sixties, each page holding whispers of past stories. Elowen could almost hear the echoes of laughter and conversations that filled the air during family gatherings. 

Despite its age, Elowen found comfort in the familiar surroundings. Her grandfather was a man of routine, and he tended to the wood stove with proud diligence. Over the years, she had only witnessed it fall dormant once during the cold, rain-laden months—a solitary occasion when her grandfather had indulged a bit too deeply at his best friend's daughter’s wedding. That day, he had returned home with a jolly spirit but a rather sore head, and Elowen had chuckled to herself, knowing he deserved a pass for such an infrequent lapse. 

She reveled in the ritual of building a fire, relishing the dance of the flames that would soon fill the home with an inviting warmth. After a few attempts and a bit of trial and error, she had mastered the art of coaxing the kindling to life, and in no time, the crackling fire transformed the small room into a haven against the raging cold outside.  

This morning however like normal her grandfather seemed to get his hands on the fireplace first as the scent of burning wood middling happily with the food cooking in the kitchen. As Elowen stepped into the cozy kitchen, the warmth of the space wrapped around her like a gentle hug. She caught the twinkling eyes of her grandfather, Gideon, who beamed with joy at the sight of his granddaughter. He leaned down, placing a tender kiss on the crown of her head, a familiar gesture that always made her feel cherished. In his weathered hands, he held out a tall glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. 

After thanking him, Elowen settled into her usual spot at the small, well-worn dining table, its surface marked with the memories of countless family breakfasts. Beside her, her grandmother was deeply engrossed in a Sudoku puzzle, her brow furrowed in concentration as she flipped through the crinkled pages of the newspaper.

Curiosity piqued, Elowen leaned over to take a look at the puzzle while savoring her cold juice. "Seven goes there," she announced excitedly, pointing to an empty square that seemed to scream for a number. Lucille glanced up from her puzzle, feigning a dramatic huff as she dropped the newspaper to the table, her gaze playfully narrowed at Elowen. The young girl couldn't suppress her smile, her lips curling around the rim of her glass as she took a sip.

"I was getting there," Lucille replied with mock indignation, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Sure you were, darling," Gideon chuckled warmly, strolling across the kitchen with a lighthearted gait. He set down a steaming plate piled high with breakfast burritos, each one bursting with golden potatoes, crispy bacon, and fluffy scrambled eggs. The savory aroma wafting from the dish made Elowen’s mouth water in anticipation. With barely a moment’s hesitation, she reached out and plucked a burrito from the plate, eager to indulge in the delicious creation.

Taking a hearty bite, she closed her eyes, reveling in the flavorful explosion of the dish. "Thanks, Papa," Elowen said, her voice muffled by her mouthful, her happiness evident in the way she grinned from ear to ear.  

"Of course, Dovie," Gideon replied with a warm smile as he settled into his chair at the breakfast table, reaching for a generous helping of the homemade meal laid out before them.  A comfortable silence enveloped the three of them as they dug into their breakfast, savoring each bite of the lovingly prepared food. 

It was Gideon who finally broke the peaceful quiet, his voice cheerful and inquisitive. “So, junior year, huh? That’s a big one. Are you feeling ready for it?”

Elowen offered a nod, her expression one of mixed apprehension and determination. “Yeah, I—I mean, I hope so,” she replied, her voice slightly shaky. She hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath as she absentmindedly ran her fingers through her fiery red hair, a nervous habit she developed over the years. “When I talked to my guidance counselor at the end of last year, she said I was on track so far. But now I just need to start thinking about what colleges I might be interested in,” she continued, the weight of her anxiety evident in her tone.

Her mind raced as she considered the future and the pressure that lay ahead. Elowen was a decent student when she managed to focus on her studies, but she often found herself struggling to concentrate, especially when the subjects didn’t captivate her. English was her sanctuary; it flowed naturally for her—the words and ideas dancing easily in her mind. Yet, math had become a formidable enemy, a constant source of frustration that she felt plagued her academic journey. Despite the challenges, she knew she had to persevere if she wanted even a glimmer of a chance at getting into a respectable college after her senior year.

"You're gonna do just fine," Lucille cooed softly, her voice warm and soothing as she looked at her granddaughter with eyes brimming with a mix of adoration and sorrow. This expression was one that Elowen had become all too familiar with over the years, a silent acknowledgment of both pride in her accomplishments and heartache for the challenges she had faced. Lucille's lips curved into a small, encouraging smile, a gesture meant to ease the weight of anxiety resting on the young girl's shoulders. At just seventeen, Elowen had navigated more struggles and turmoil than many would encounter in a lifetime. The anticipation of applying to college loomed over her like a storm cloud, but Lucille had unwavering faith in her ability to rise above it all.  After everything the young girl had endured, getting admitted into a decent college would be nothing short of a piece of cake. 

A small chiming alarm sounded on Gideons wrist watch as he looked down at the time, clicking a small button to silence the device. "We should head out, love," Gideon said, a gentle smile gracing his weathered face as he wiped his brow with a crumpled napkin. He turned to his wife, his touch tender as he caressed her hand, the warmth of their connection palpable. Rising from the rustic wooden chair, he gathered the empty plates from the table and dropped them into the sink with a soft clatter. Meanwhile, Elowen, her bright eyes sparkling with excitement, slung her school bag over her shoulder.

"Drive safe," Lucille said softly, her voice filled with a mixture of concern and affection. She leaned in, pressing a warm kiss on Gideon’s lips, savoring the moment as if trying to imprint it in her memory. She turned to Elowen next, wishing her good luck with a wink. Elowen quickly paused to say goodbye to Oliver with a quick scratch under his chin to which he purred with delight. Then the pair stepped outside, taking refuge under a large, blue umbrella that Gideon held protectively above them, navigating through the light drizzle that danced down from the sky.

They walked together toward the driveway where Gideon’s old, rusty truck sat, a faithful companion through many years and countless journeys. Unbeknownst to Elowen, Gideon had taken the extra step of starting the truck well before breakfast, ensuring the cab was warm and inviting for their ride. He opened the passenger door with an air of chivalry, carefully shielding his granddaughter from the raindrops as she climbed into the oddly comforting vehicle.

Elowen settled into her seat, her heart swelling with affection for the aging truck that had seen better days. The familiar scent of oil mixed with remnants of old cigarettes wrapped around her like a warm blanket. She tossed her backpack down at her feet, securing her seatbelt snugly across her chest. To others, it may have appeared as just a dilapidated vehicle, but to her, it was a treasure trove of memories. The once-vibrant bumper had begun to rust, flecks of faded green paint falling off with each drive, but these imperfections only added to its charm.

She reflected on the countless adventures they had shared: riding in the spacious bench seat with an ice cream cone in hand, melting and dribbling down her fingers; being sandwiched in the middle between her grandparents as they joyfully belted out tunes from the 50s, their voices boisterous and ringing throughout the cab, causing her to giggle uncontrollably; and the driving lessons bestowed upon her by her patient grandfather, who guided her with steady hands while her grandmother clucked in worry from the passenger seat, her eyes wide with concern at every small mistake as if she feared the worst. Each memory was woven into the fabric of the truck, making it feel almost alive as if it held the echoes of their laughter and love within its worn-out frame.

Once Gideon settled comfortably into the driver’s seat, the familiar streets of Forks unfolded in front of him, a patchwork of small-town charm and dense greenery. Each road bent and twisted gently, making navigation a breeze. He knew he could get Elowen to the high school in no time, and then zip across town to the Police Station to clock in—all within a mere twenty minutes. 

As he drove, Gideon reflected on how far he’d come in his career. Once a prominent fixture on the front lines of law enforcement, his role had transitioned with the passage of time, now mapped out by the milestones of age. No longer was he in the heat of action, chasing down leads or handling tense situations; instead, he embraced the quieter responsibilities of desk duty. There, amidst stacks of paperwork and the relentless rhythm of meetings, he found a surprising level of satisfaction. 

 Lucille had urged him to take a step back entirely to enjoy the fruits of retirement by her side, to savor the peaceful moments they had both dreamed of during their busy years. Yet, Gideon was restless by nature; the concept of idle hands weighed on him heavily. After retiring as chief of police, instead of fully embracing retirement, he had opted for a sort of self-demotion, trading flexibility and excitement for a structured routine that allowed him to remain connected to the community he loved, even if it meant bidding farewell to the adrenaline of active duty. 

He reached over and flicked on the radio, the sound of an old country song crackling to life. The twangy guitars and mournful vocals filled the car, a tune Elowen didn’t recognize but that somehow felt nostalgic. She turned her gaze out the fogged window, watching the tall pines and drizzly streets of Forks, Washington, whiz by. A flicker of curiosity danced in her chest as she thought about what the new school year might hold for her. Maybe this year would surprise her; maybe something genuinely exciting would unfold. But deep down, she chuckled at the thought. This was Forks, after all—a quiet, unassuming town where nothing ever seemed to happen, where days turned into weeks without a hint of adventure. It was going to be boring...just as it always was. 

Chapter Text

ELOWEN REED

Gideon maneuvered the old green truck into an empty parking space at Forks High School, the faint scent of rain mingling with the worn interior of the vehicle. As the drizzle intensified, he squinted through the windshield, trying to make out the familiar surroundings. Elowen let out a soft sigh, the weight of the day already settling on her shoulders. She reached over and unbuckled her seatbelt, the click echoing in the quiet cabin.

“Thanks, Papa,” she said with a bright smile, her eyes sparkling with anticipation as she grabbed her well-worn backpack from the floor. She opened the truck door, the fresh scent of rain and asphalt wafting in. However, just as she was about to step out, she froze. Her gaze was drawn to a figure standing across the parking lot, their eyes meeting in an unexpected moment of connection. Apprehension coursed through her as she took in the sight before her. Alex Calloway. Her ex-boyfriend. 

“Are you going to be okay, Dovie?” Gideon’s voice pierced through the thick tension of the staring contest that had unfolded between his granddaughter and the boy standing across from them. Her gaze locked on the boy, slowly turned her head to face her grandfather. In an instant, the intensity in her eyes softened as she blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the weight of the moment. She forced a smile, a gesture that seemed more like a lifeline than a true expression of confidence.

“Yeah, it’ll be fine,” she replied, but her voice quivered slightly, hinting that she was trying to convince herself as much as she was reassuring her grandpa. Gideon studied her face, his heart tightening as he observed the flicker of doubt that crossed her features. He didn’t believe her for a second; the worry lines etched on his brow deepened.

“What if we just ditch this whole thing?” he suggested, a playful glint igniting in his greying eyebrows. His naturally mischievous grin emerged pleading her to take the bait. Elowen watched her grandfather with an expression of intrigue despite his age he never stopped playing, making jokes, and teasing it was one of the things she loved the most about him. He was young at heart no matter how many wrinkles crowded on his face. 

Elowen scoffed and rolled her eyes with mock exasperation. “Oh please, Nana would have your hide,” she teased, her voice light and playful, trying to shift the atmosphere.

“Yeah, but think of how much fun it would be,” Gideon countered, a grin still dancing on his lips. “It would be worth it.” The statement hung in the air, ringing with an unspoken truth. Little did they know just how serious he was about his disapproval of the Calloway boy. From the very first time they had met, Gideon had felt a subtle unease, a gut instinct screaming that Elowen deserved far better than someone who so clearly lacked emotional intelligence and kindness. In his heart, he hoped she could see it too, but for now, he stayed close, ready to support her in whatever decision she would make. 

“Maybe some other time, Papa,” she said with a soft smile, her voice carrying warmth despite the hint of sadness in her tone. He nodded in understanding, accepting her choice without argument. She leaned in to give him a quick hug, whispering “I love you” before stepping back. With one last glance, she closed the passenger door of the car, the sound echoing slightly in the quiet of the parking lot.

Taking a deep breath, she made her way across the expanse of asphalt, her sneakers crunching softly against the gravel as she headed to the far right corner. There, amidst a cluster of vehicles, she knew her friends would be gathering, their laughter and chatter filling the air. Her heart raced with excitement as she approached, anticipating the familiar scene.

As she navigated around a strikingly elegant Volvo she’d never noticed before, her friends came into view. The sight brought a wide grin to her face.

“Ellie!” they squealed in unison, their voices ringing out like cheerful bells. The sound was infectious, pulling her in with an irresistible force. 

With eagerness bubbling inside her, she hurried to join them. In an instant, she was enveloped in a flurry of arms, her friends each reaching out simultaneously, pulling her in for warm hugs. Their vibrant personalities collided around her, each one vying for her attention, their excitement palpable. The familiar scent of their fruity lip glosses mixed with axe body spray enveloped her senses. 

"Dude I have so much to tell you," Lila muttered as she pulled Elowen into her side wrapping her arm around hers like a courting couple in the 1800's. Elowen raised an eyebrow at her best friend wondering what could have possible happened in the last 4 days since they seen each other. The again knowing Lila it would very well be anything, the girl was reckless and impulsive and fearless. Traits that both inspired and worried Elowen. 

"Where have you been, Reed?" Elliot Sanders inquired, his voice casual yet laced with the genuine concern of a close friend. He leaned against the open trunk of Lila's car, his posture relaxed but his brow slightly furrowed. His arm was draped comfortably around his girlfriend Sarah, who stood beside him, a soft smile playing on her lips as she glanced at Elowen with a mix of curiosity and sympathy.

Elowen let out a huff of exasperation, fully aware that this moment was inevitable. After all, it was the price you paid for vanishing from social circles during the summer months. She had anticipated the questions and the concerned looks, and honestly, she didn’t blame them. It wasn’t intentional that she had slipped away from her friends; after everything that had unfolded with Alex, she had needed time—a refuge from the whirlwind of emotions and confusion. However, she now recognized that she probably should have communicated her feelings to them sooner, instead of leaving them in uncomfortable silence and uncertainty.

The only one in her circle who truly understood was Lila. The determined girl had shown up at her house one day, climbing through her window with an energy that couldn't be ignored. Elowen had felt cornered, but also deeply relieved when she finally had the chance to spill her thoughts and pains to her friend. Lila had pressed her for the truth, refusing to let Elowen hide from the situation any longer.

"I broke up with Alex," Elowen muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. She winced, steeling herself for the inevitable barrage of questions that would follow. She mentally prepared herself, counting down in her head. One… two… three…

The reaction was instantaneous. 

"What?" Danny exclaimed, his wide eyes glimmering with surprise. "What happened?" His voice rose with concern, the protective instinct bubbling to the surface. "Do I need to beat him up?" 

"Are you okay?" chimed in Sarah, her voice soft but edged with worry. She peeked up at Elowen through her tousled bangs, her small frame almost trembling. 

"Finally," muttered Elliot, a mix of relief and impatience.

The questions fired off like a rapid succession of bullets, leaving Elowen dazed. She held up her hands, palms out, in a defensive gesture as she tried to regain her composure. Lila stood beside her with a smug expression on her face watching her best friend flounder like a fish out of water. She felt for her, truly she did, but the dark-skinned woman also knew that Elowen was paying the price of icing out their group all summer long. 

"Yes, I’m okay,” she assured them, though she sensed the skepticism in their expressions. “And nothing really happened, not—like, not anything dramatic," she added quickly, shooting a pointed look at Danny. He had tousled black hair that framed his angular face, and the dark intensity in his eyes didn’t help to assuage her worries. He appeared unconvinced, still frowning as if to say he didn’t believe her. 

“How’d he take it?” Sarah finally asked, her voice almost a whisper, as if fearing the answer. 

Elowen shrugged, trying to appear more casual than she felt. "Good?” she replied, though her tone rose slightly at the end, turning her answer into a hesitant question. She huffed in frustration, brushing a stray strand of red hair behind her ear. “I haven’t talked to him since, so I’m not exactly sure, to be honest.” The knot in her stomach tightened as she spoke, the uncertainty gnawing at her as she considered what lay ahead. 

Her friends stood together, their faces a mix of curiosity and anticipation, clearly teetering on the edge of another barrage of questions. Just before they had the chance to speak, a frantic voice shattered the moment. "Guys! Guys!" Anna shouted, her voice rising above the sound of the rain as she sprinted across the slick parking lot toward them. Out of breath, she stopped abruptly, her hands pressed against her knees as she leaned forward, struggling to catch her breath in the chilly, damp air.

"Wow," Danny remarked with amusement, eyes wide with surprise. "I don't think I've ever seen you run before, Anna." His teasing comment triggered a ripple of laughter throughout the group. He wasn't exaggerating; Anna utterly loathed any form of physical exercise. She had a small collection of expertly forged doctor’s notes that she would produce to excuse herself from every gym class. If those notes ever fell short, she had developed a well-rehearsed argument outlining the cruelty of mandatory exercise in schools. Elowen often wondered if Anna’s passionate debates actually swayed her teachers or if they simply surrendered out of sheer exhaustion to get her to leave them alone. Regardless, she always managed to get her way.

"Oh, ha-ha," Anna shot back with an exaggerated scowl, rolling her eyes at Danny before turning her full attention to the rest of the group. "I had to rush to the office before class started because guess what? They messed up my schedule again this year!" She threw her hands in the air for emphasis, her frustration evident. "In what world am I meant to be taking an advanced art class? Honestly, I can barely draw a straight line, and—"

"The point, Anna? Find it," Lila interjected, groaning dramatically. Their dear friend had a knack for going off on tangents that seemed completely unrelated to the conversation. It was a running joke among them that Anna could begin discussing something as simple as vegetables and suddenly veer into an elaborate discourse on furniture assembly.

"Right, sorry," Anna said, resetting herself. She took a deep breath and continued, "Anyways, I went into the office, and you won't believe what I saw!" She paused dramatically, sweeping her gaze over her friends, waiting for their reactions. However, she didn’t allow them enough time to respond. "We have new students!"

"It's the beginning of the year, Anna," Lila replied with a roll of her eyes, a hint of sarcasm in her tone. "Of course, we have new students."

"No, no, not just the freshmen! There are three new juniors and two sophomores! But that's still not the most exciting part!" Anna's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she leaned in closer, her excitement infectious.

"What could possibly be more exciting than that?" Elowen asked, genuinely intrigued. After all, attracting any new students to Forks High School was a significant event. The town itself was so small that the influx of new arrivals was a rarity. Most newcomers were retirees seeking peace and quiet, eager to escape the chaos and noise of big city life. Elowen knew this all too well, as she herself was the last ‘new’ student to arrive at Forks, a fact that felt even more astonishing given that she had moved here in the seventh grade.

Anna's eyes sparkled with excitement as she glanced at her friends, who were leaning in, anticipation etched across their faces. “They’re hot!” she exclaimed, unable to contain her enthusiasm. Elowen and Lila groaned in playful exasperation, while Elliot and Sarah exchanged amused looks, chuckling quietly to themselves. Danny, however, remained unfazed, a slight smirk playing on his lips but not giving away any hint of curiosity. 

“No, guys seriously! They’re like ridiculously hot, like just stepped out of a magazine hot. I’m not kidding!” The bell rang promptly, signaling the start of the school day, its shrill tone echoing through the corridor. One by one, they began to gather their backpacks, the sound of zippers and rustling fabric mingling with the fading noise of chatter. As Lila locked her car, Anna called out to her friends, a mixture of excitement and urgency in her voice, “You guys! Just wait, you’ll see!”

Elowen linked her arm with Lila's as they made their way toward their first and only class together, Biology. The light drizzle began to fall softly from the sky, creating a gentle patter against the pavement. Lila, quick to cover her beautiful goddess braids with a colorful scarf, fretted over the potential frizz, but Elowen simply embraced the rain, letting it cascade over her hair, delighting in the feeling. She had always loved the rain, finding beauty in its embrace, and had long since accepted the frizz it brought. After one disastrous makeup run during a rainstorm—where the downpour transformed her carefully applied face into a stream of colors down her cheeks—she had settled for the simplicity of waterproof mascara and discreet spot treatments for any blemishes.

“What did you have to tell me?” Elowen whispered, glancing around to ensure the others wouldn’t overhear their conversation as they continued walking toward class, their footsteps splashing quietly in puddles.

“Oh!” Lila’s face brightened, her mood instantly shifting. “I asked Maggie out last night!” Elowen gasped, eyes widening in disbelief. “I know,” Lila continued quickly, grinning from ear to ear. “And she said yes!”

“Oh my gosh!” Elowen squealed, unable to contain her excitement. “I’m so happy for you!” It was genuine; she could hardly believe Lila had finally gathered the courage to make her move. Lila had harbored a crush on Maggie Blake, Danny’s sister, since they had first met two years ago. Each prior attempt to approach the senior girl had ebbed away under waves of anxiety. Danny, despite his protective tendencies as a brother, had encouraged Lila’s boldness, though he occasionally rolled his eyes at her shyness. But now, it seemed, Lila had found her courage at last. “I told you it would work out,” Elowen enthused, nudging her friend with her elbow.

“I know, I know! I don’t know why I was so scared, but she said yes!” Lila’s voice bubbled with delight as they strolled into the cozy warmth of the Biology classroom, the faint scent of disinfectant mingling with the aroma of worn textbooks. “We’re going to get some coffee and then go on a hike this weekend,” she elaborated, practically bouncing in her seat as they plopped down next to each other at their usual desks.

“That’s gonna be so much fun!” Elowen affirmed, a broad smile spreading across her face, her excitement palpable as they turned their attention to the upcoming lesson, though Lila’s heart still raced at the thought of her date.

"Good morning, students! Settle in, settle in," Mr. Molina called out, his voice carrying a mix of authority and warmth as he stood at the front of the classroom, a welcoming smile on his face. He watched as a few straggling students ambled through the door, their eyes still bleary from sleep, and waved them in with a sweep of his hand. Once the last of them had found a seat, he clapped his hands together, the sound echoing through the room. 

"Welcome to AP Biology! If you look in front of you, you'll find the syllabus for this year," he continued, his enthusiasm palpable. “Let’s all direct our attention to page one and read through it together.” The air filled with the sound of rustling papers as students shuffled and flipped through the two-sided sheets, the murmurs of anticipation fading into a quiet focus.

Elowen picked up her syllabus, feeling a heavy sigh build up in her throat as she scanned the words on the page. Despite her best efforts to concentrate, her mind began to drift. She couldn’t shake the thoughts about the 'new students' Anna had mentioned earlier. A flicker of excitement shot through her; she couldn’t wait to meet them and hoped they were adjusting well to their new environment. 

Having been a new student herself once upon a time, she remembered the anxious feelings and discomfort that accompanied such changes. In that moment of reflection, she made a silent vow to herself: if she found herself sharing any classes with them, she would extend her kindness and offer her help to ensure they felt welcomed and included. If they wanted her too of course. 

Chapter Text

ELOWEN REED

Fortunately for the young redhead, her A.P. Biology and English Honors classes went smoothly. She was even relieved to discover that she shared her English class with Danny, which would definitely make the year more interesting. The pair of friends maintained a friendly competition throughout the years, where their shared classes turned into contests to see who could achieve the best overall grade and score highest on exams and essays. This year, they were neck and neck, and with only two years left of school, their final competition was approaching its conclusion. She would have to truly focus on her school work if she had any chance of beating her ridiculously intelligent friend. It came easy to him in a way that it did not for Elowen. While it seemed Danny retained knowledge like a sponge, Elowen repelled the information like waterproof boots.

  Elowen stood beside her locker, the cool metal warm against her palm as she gathered her books and notes for her upcoming U.S. History class. As she reached for her binder, a familiar voice drifted in from behind the open door.

“Ugh, Coach Clapp is making us play basketball,” Lila lamented, her tone dripping with exasperation. Elowen shut her locker with a soft clang, turning her attention to her best friend, who was clad in the school's unflattering P.E. uniform. Lila's typically vibrant style had been replaced with oversized gym shorts that hung awkwardly from her hips, knee-high socks that pinched at her calves, a boxy t-shirt that swallowed her figure, and clunky tennis shoes that looked like they belonged on a 50-year-old dad. "It's the first day back! Can't we just do icebreakers and read a syllabus like every other class today?"

Suppressing a laugh at her friend's expense, Elowen couldn't help but feel a hint of sympathy. In just over an hour, she'd find herself in the same fashion nightmare. “I can’t believe we have to wear this,” Lila lamented, her voice edging on theatrical desperation. “I’m going to die, Ellie! Maggie has P.E. with me!”

Elowen winced, feeling Lila’s embarrassment like it was her own. “Well, at least she’ll be wearing the same thing,” she offered, attempting to inject a bit of optimism into the situation.

“Yeah, but she can actually pull it off! She looks good in everything. I, on the other hand, look like a twelve-year-old boy who smells like onions and Cheetos,” Lila cried out dramatically, leaning her head against the cold, unyielding metal of the locker. Her eyes sparkled with that unmistakable, comedic glint of a wounded puppy seeking sympathy, and Elowen felt the corners of her mouth twitch in amusement.

Elowen couldn't hold back a playful jab. “No you do not,” she quipped, her mischievous smile spreading wide. “You may look like a twelve-year-old boy, but you smell like Victoria's Secret body spray and fruity lip gloss.”

“Ugh, I hate you,” Lila shot back, though the laughter in her eyes betrayed her true feelings. Just then, the loud, echoing warning bell rang through the hallways, signaling the start of the next period.

“You love me,” Elowen grinned as they both turned to head in opposite directions, the familiar rhythm of their daily routine providing a sense of comfort.

“Good luck!” Elowen called out over her shoulder.. In response, Lila flipped her the bird, a half-hearted gesture that made Elowen burst into laughter as she walked away, her footsteps echoing down the vibrant corridor filled with the sounds of bustling students. As Elowen stepped into Ms. Watson's classroom, a wave of familiarity washed over her. The room, adorned with colorful maps and historical posters, had once been the setting for her sophomore history lessons, where memories of discussions and debates floated in the air.

Choosing her seat strategically, she settled into a place in the middle of the classroom, balancing her desire to engage without feeling overly exposed. Sitting too close to the front would likely result in Ms. Watson's keen gaze falling upon her at frequent intervals, while the back rows felt invitingly distant but could easily lead her mind to drift away into daydreams. The middle seemed to be the perfect compromise—an equal distance from the teacher's watchful eyes and the distractions of her wandering thoughts.

She dropped her well-worn backpack onto the floor beside her, the thud echoing softly in the stillness as she glanced around the room, searching for her friends among the sea of familiar faces gathering for the new class. A sense of anticipation bubbled within her as she scanned the crowd.

Suddenly, a voice, bright and melodic like wind chimes dancing in a gentle breeze, jolted her from her reverie. "Hi there!" The cheerful greeting came from behind her, causing Elowen to turn around, curiosity piqued. She froze for a moment, taking in the figure sitting there leaning over the front of her desk to seemingly get closer to her.

The person before her was not merely attractive; she was breathtaking—an embodiment of allure and confidence. With a short, spiky pixie cut that framed her face perfectly, her striking features seemed to glow under the classroom's fluorescent lights. Every detail—the way her golden eyes sparkled with mischief and her pearl white smile radiated warmth—made Elowen momentarily forget the bustling noise around her, leaving her captivated in the moment. She was wearing a long-sleeved blouse that looked more expensive than Elowen's entire outfit combined with a black choker on her neck with a white engraved stone in the middle that Elowen couldn't quite make out.

Elowen sat frozen for a moment, her cheeks burning as she struggled to find her voice. "Uhm, h-hi," she finally squeaked, her heart racing with an uncomfortable mix of excitement and self-consciousness. It was odd for her to feel so vulnerable; usually, she carried herself with quiet confidence, accepting her minor imperfections, like the occasional acne breakout or the small gap in her front teeth and the freckles splayed across her nose. But sitting before this striking girl, she felt like a complete mess, as if she had just crawled out of a dumpster that was on fire.

The new girl's smile was infectious, radiating warmth and charm, yet it seemed to contain an undercurrent of something intense and knowledgable that Elowen couldn't quite reach. "I'm Alice. My family and I just moved here," she said, her voice smooth and melodic, with an enthusiasm that only made Elowen more nervous. Even as she spoke, her smile never faltered, which only added to the strange, unsettling feeling growing in the pit of Elowen's stomach. There was something almost predatory about Alice’s gleaming white teeth, whose sharpness resembled the fangs of a wolf. If she wasn't so beautiful Elowen might've been afraid.

Elowen's eyes widened as Alice’s words slowly registered in her mind. The new students. Anna had told them they were attractive. But that had been a severe understatement. Alice was a vision of elegance and allure, leaving Elowen momentarily breathless. She couldn’t help but feel a rush of admiration mixed with disbelief; could all the newcomers possibly possess the same extraordinary beauty as the girl sitting in front of her? For an instant, Elowen felt an intense longing to be swept up in Alice's world, to do anything to bask in the glow of her presence just a little longer.

"N-Nice to meet you, Alice. I'm Elowen," she introduced herself, unconsciously opting for her full name instead of her usual nickname. The decision felt instinctual, as if addressing Alice in a more formal manner would somehow elevate her own status in this surreal encounter. The thought of speaking in a childish way around someone so extraordinary felt juvenile, and she desired to appear cooler, more composed than she truly felt.

"I am so happy to meet you, Ellie," Alice replied, her eyes crinkling with genuine delight. The playful use of Elowen's nickname caught her off guard, and she felt her face fall slightly at the realization. Was referring to herself as Elowen the wrong choice after all? The sudden familiarity made her uneasy. "We're going to be great friends. I know it." The words resonated with an alluring promise, leaving Elowen both thrilled and anxious as she pondered what that meant exactly. Thankfully, she didn't have to think about it for much longer as Ms. Watson called for everyone's attention.

Elowen turned back around in her seat, a sudden wave of clarity washing over her as if a spell had just been broken, freeing her from the relentless, rambling monologue that had taken over her mind without her consent. She paused for a moment, grappling with the whirlwind of emotions that had just consumed her. What had just happened? She had never experienced such an intoxicating mix of intrigue, confusion, and insecurity all at once.

Though she often brushed aside thoughts of competition, reminding herself of her grandparents’ teachings—that true confidence comes from within—today felt different. Elowen knew she wasn't the prettiest girl in the room, but that hadn’t typically bothered her. Yet now, sitting next to Alice, she felt a wave of embarrassment creeping in, a tightness in her chest.

What was it about Alice that stirred such a powerful reaction in her? There was an undeniable magnetism about the way Alice carried herself, her confidence so palpable, it seemed to suffuse the air around her. Elowen found herself entranced, wanting to unravel the mystery that was Alice and her effortless charm. Even more perplexing was Alice's determined certainty that they would become good friends.

Elowen had always prided herself on being friendly and inclusive, always eager to invite others to join her in her plans. But the way Alice had spoken, with that striking conviction, made it seem as if it wasn’t just a possibility—it was a foregone conclusion, a plan set in motion that couldn’t be derailed. It intrigued Elowen and frightened her in equal measure, leaving her to wonder if she was ready to step into the forged friendship Alice was so certain about.

JASPER HALE

Humans were relentlessly drawn to beauty, an urge that burned brightly within them, pushing them to pursue it at all costs. When faced with the allure of something stunning, they often abandoned caution, placing their desire above their better judgment. He could hardly blame them; he cherished beautiful things, too, recognizing how easily one could be captivated by such splendor. Yet, in their pursuit of beauty, they disregarded their own innate instincts—those internal warning systems that instinctively urged them to steer clear of danger, especially one as perilous as him and his kind.

Everything about vampires was meticulously crafted to attract humans, seducing them into a world that was as enticing as it was treacherous. The elegance, the charm, the dark mystique—all were beckoning sirens that promised a taste of the extraordinary. In stark contrast, every facet of human nature was wired for self-preservation, designed to maintain a safe distance from threats that lurked in the shadows.

He was that threat, a dark embodiment of danger lurking beneath an alluring exterior. The tension between their yearning for beauty and their instinctual drive to evade peril created an intricate dance. It was a dance he understood all too well, for within it lay the essence of their relationship—one of fascination mixed with fear, each step closer to him a gamble stacked against their survival.

He wished he could blame it on teenage ignorance for the way high school students yearned after him and his siblings; however, he had witnessed plenty of adults throw caution to the wind at the mere chance of being in their presence. Even now, as they sat at a table in the middle of the cafeteria, all eyes were on them, as if they were on a stage or sitting on a throne dripping in jewels. This scene played out the same way at every high school and college they attended. It would take a few weeks, but ultimately, the humans would give up their attempts to befriend them. It was easier that way, or so they told themselves. They needed to keep the humans at arm's length, afraid that one might uncover their deadly secret through a forged friendship.

Jasper thought this was a ridiculous plan. Their reclusiveness only generated more gossip and ridiculous theories. If they actually attempted to be normal—making friends, joining clubs, and dumbing themselves down—it would likely reduce the speculation. He personally wouldn’t partake in such activities, but he figured it might work. Then again, they could abandon the whole facade and live as other vampires did. The entire ordeal of attending high school over and over again was not something he particularly enjoyed; in fact, he found it a bit laughable.

They were centuries-old, ancient entities confined to the dull confines of cinderblock walls and the harsh glare of fluorescent lighting. Day after day, they were instructed by teachers who, despite their best efforts, possessed only a fraction of the knowledge they had accumulated over their long existence.

The very environment was fraught with danger. Teenagers, in their recklessness and impulsive nature, seemed perpetually on the brink of catastrophe. They stumbled clumsily over their own shoelaces, collided painfully with lockers, and skidded ungracefully on ice during winter months. Each day felt like a ticking time bomb, a recipe for disaster waiting to unfold. A single drop of blood, a moment of unguarded vulnerability, and their meticulously planned existence could unravel in a heartbeat.

“God, this place is boring,” Emmett complained, his voice breaking the silence and jolting Jasper from his deep contemplation. He glanced over at his imposing brother, whose broad shoulders and towering stature made the chair beneath him look almost comically small as if it were designed for a child. Emmett's dark, curly hair tumbled haphazardly across his forehead, framing his amber eyes that scanned the room with an almost childlike curiosity, searching for anything—anything at all—that could break the monotony of their afternoon.

“What were you expecting?” Edward asked, his tone laced with a lazy bemusement as he rested his chin in his hand. He leaned against the table, where a carefully arranged display of prop food lay before them, looking all too real but lacking the substance they craved. Each of them hesitantly picked at the items, attempting to maintain the illusion of a casual meal, even as the taste and texture proved to be slightly off-putting, a mere shadow of true nourishment.

“I don’t know,” Emmett muttered, his voice tinged with disappointment. “Something exciting.” Jasper, couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle at his brother's ongoing quest for amusement. Emmett had always been the one to seek out thrills, desperate to find stimulation in a life that, for them, stretched on endlessly. After decades—no, centuries—of existence, the vibrant tapestry of life began to fray, and the constant repetition of experiences dulled the senses. What was once thrilling now felt like a never-ending loop, leaving them all yearning for a spark of excitement to shatter the relentless tedium of their immortal lives.

Rosalie gently patted her mate’s shoulder with a tender reassurance while the watchful intensity in her gaze scanned the crowd of humans that surrounded them. Although she would never openly admit it—not entirely, anyway—she found a sense of exhilaration in the fascination the humans displayed as they regarded her as if she were some ethereal goddess worthy of worship. Amidst the thrill of attention, she felt a rush of satisfaction, secretly relishing the awe that radiated from the onlookers.

“Don’t worry,” Alice chimed in, her melodic voice breaking through the hushed murmurs of the crowd. Her eyes sparkled with an unmistakable mischief, brimming with an anticipation that very few could sense. “This year is going to be plenty exciting.” A wide grin spread across her face as if she was privy to some delightful secret. Just then, Edward, who had been lounging in his seat, shot upright as if jolted. He stared at Alice, his emotions a mix of disbelief and something more elusive— jealousy? Jasper, attuned to the currents of emotion swirling around them, felt Alice’s delight blooming like a bright blossom, while Edward was engulfed in a tide of complex feelings.

Jasper tried to shield himself from the emotional whirlwind created by his family, striving for a semblance of tranquility in the chaos of their feelings, whereas Edward tried his best to ignore their thoughts to at least give their family a semblance of privacy in their thoughts and feelings. This endeavor was not an easy task for either of them, as their abilities could never be fully turned off. Alice, however, was the exception—she welcomed Edward into her thoughts and allowed Jasper to bask in the warmth of her emotions without the slightest hesitation. Edward and Alice's bond they shared had evolved into an almost seamless hive mind, a silent communication that operated just beyond the reach of the others, irking them to no end. They were connected in a way that felt both special and isolating to the rest of the family. Which was why no one bothered to ask about Edwards sudden bizarre reaction.

Jasper let out a weary sigh, his gaze drifting toward the window while Rosalie and Emmett engaged in a quiet conversation, their words barely audible above the backdrop of chatter and laughter. The day felt endless, dragging on like molasses in winter, and Jasper longed for the moment he could escape the claustrophobic confines of the school’s cinderblock walls. The constant stream of gossip about him and his family weighed on him, making the atmosphere feel stifling.

Suddenly, an unusual hush fell over the room as if a strict teacher had silenced the throng of students, though Jasper heard no commanding voice. Curiosity piqued, he lifted his eyes from the window to discover that everyone’s attention was focused intently on the right side of the cafeteria, where a boy stood awkwardly next to a table full of students. Something was happening, and even his own siblings had turned their heads to watch.

“This is something,” Emmett’s booming voice echoed, cutting through the stillness. Jasper rolled his eyes, but just as quickly, he was hit by a wave of powerful emotions radiating through the room. His empathetic gift flared to life, reaching out instinctively to locate the wellspring of these intense feelings that flickered so suddenly like cards being shuffled in a Rolodex. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on the source: a girl sitting at the table where the boy in question stood silently.

She had cascading waves of red hair that seemed to ignite under the cafeteria’s fluorescent lights, and a thick, black jacket draped casually over her shoulders. Though her back was turned, Jasper could sense her emotions battling fiercely against one another — each one crashing over him like a tidal wave, drawing him in and holding him against an unrelenting current. It was as if the ocean itself had come alive within her, oscillating between fury and despair. His focus sharpened as he strained to hear their conversation from across the room.

“Seriously, you’re not going to talk to me?” the boy implored, his voice laced with confusion and desperation as he faced the red-haired girl, who remained slumped in her chair, her posture betraying a sense of defeat. Her friends, perched beside her, wore visible expressions of annoyance and discomfort, their bodies tense and closed off as they shifted in their seats.

“She doesn’t want to talk to you, Alex,” a dark-skinned girl with long, intricate braids hissed sharply, her eyes narrowing on the boy with a flicker of protectiveness. Without hesitation, she inched her chair closer to the redhead, forming a barrier between her and the unwelcome confrontation.

Jasper could feel the embarrassment emanating from the red-haired girl in palpable waves, intensifying as she stood and made an attempt to pass Alex. But before she could escape, his hand shot out, catching her wrist in a firm grip. Instantly, a rush of anger and frustration flowed from her, mingling with the embarrassment that churned like a storm within her.

She looked down at his hand, her brow furrowing slightly before her gaze met his. Although she stood tall, her hair fell like a fiery curtain around her face, concealing her features and making it impossible for Jasper to see. The tension hung heavy in the air, charged with unspoken words and the palpable fear of confrontation as the students in the room waited with bated breath for their next move.

"You seriously want to do this here?" she asked him with a sharp edge to her voice as if she couldn’t believe he would choose this crowded room for such a conversation. The boy stiffened, suddenly aware of the scrutiny that surrounded them. He glanced around the room and felt the weight of numerous eyes boring into him, like spotlights on a stage. It was as if they were the leads in a play, their private moment transformed into a public spectacle. The onlookers, sensing their attention was unwelcome, hastily redirected their focus, engaging in feigned conversations and distracted gestures that betrayed their curiosity.

In a moment of vulnerability, he dropped his hand from hers and ran it through his tousled dark hair, his expression shifting to one of pleading desperation. "Outside," she muttered, her voice a mixture of frustration and urgency as she strode towards the double doors that led to the outside. The weight of their unspoken words hung heavily in the air as he hastily followed her, desperation spurring his feet forward.

Once they stepped outside, they hoped to find the privacy they longed for, only that luxury eluded them, with his family close by. Emmett, always the thrill-seeker, watched from within with rapt attention, clearly delighted by the unfolding drama. Rosalie leaned in, her eyes sparkling with a blend of mischief and excitement; she thrived on the thrill of romantic drama. Alice, with her ever-optimistic demeanor, seemed unusually enthralled by the situation. Even Edward, the brooding observer who usually remained detached, couldn’t help but be intrigued; his interest was, after all, a rare occurrence in itself.

Jasper, amidst it all, found himself captivated—not by the unfolding human drama, which he usually regarded with indifference, but rather by the emotional storm that swirled around the girl. Her emotions enveloped him, wrapping around him like a constricting snake, tightening with every moment that passed. He was so absorbed in the chaotic energy radiating from the girl that he didn't register Edward and Alice exchanging glances towards him.

"What do you want to talk about?" The girl sighed, slinking against the textured support pillar of the rain-covered awning that stretched outside the cafeteria. Inside, the walls were lined with large, inviting windows, allowing curious students to observe the pair, even if they couldn’t hear their exchange.

Alex threw his hands up in frustration, his breath coming out in visible huffs against the chill of the air. "Are you serious? You broke up with me over the summer, and now you won’t even look me in the eye to talk this out?" The hurt in his voice was palpable, echoing the confusion that swirled in his mind.

The girl shrugged, the weight of guilt pressing heavily on Jaspers chest, intertwined with a sharp sting of anger and a deep sense of shame. "I’m sorry, okay? I just… I don’t know what to say." Her fingers twisted nervously, tugging at the gloves that shielded her from the biting cold, an unconscious act of self-soothing.

"How about you tell me why you ended it in the first place? I thought we were happy together, Ellie," he replied, frustration lacing his words as he rubbed his temples, trying to quell the rising tide of emotions.

A hollow laugh escaped Ellie’s lips, though her emotions were devoid of any genuine mirth. "I broke up with you because… because you don’t see me, Alex." Her emotions flashed rapidly with a mix of hurt and determination as she met his gaze.

He scoffed, disbelief rolling off his shoulders like heat waves. "What do you mean? I’m looking at you right now," he countered, frustration bubbling just beneath the surface.

Shaking her head, she replied more forcefully, "That’s not what I mean, Alex." The words tumbled out harshly, "You don’t see me for who I am. What’s my favorite color? Or my favorite movie? What do I want to study in college? What is my Nana’s name? What are my hobbies? What do I like, and what do I hate?" Her voice rose with each question, fire flashing in her as she stared intensely at the tall boy before her.

He floundered like a caught fish, stammering as he tried to recall the details that had slipped through his fingers. Anxiety and shame washed over him in waves, each uncomfortable second pressing against his chest.

Ellie nodded knowingly, her feelings a mixture of disappointment and resolve as she gestured towards him. Jasper watched in intrige as she continued. "That’s my point, Alex. Your favorite color is blue, your favorite movie is Shawshank Redemption. You want to stufy sports medicine, and your mom’s name is Diane. You play football and video games, you adore the 49ers, and you can't stand avocado. Why do I know all of this about you while you don’t even know the basics about me?" Her annoyance was evident, a raw emotion intermingled with the frustration and sadness that had been building between them.

"I… I love you, Ellie," he blurted out, desperation creeping into his tone as he searched for a way to salvage their connection.

"Then why does it feel like I’m the only one doing all the loving in this relationship?" she countered, her voice steady but tinged with sorrow.

"I’ll try to do better. I promise I’ll learn everything—I’ll know it all, I swear," he pledged, his heart racing.

"You shouldn’t have to try to do better, Alex. You should want to know this stuff about me, but it feels like you don't, and that’s okay. This isn't love to me, and it’s not what I want. Listen, there’s no bad blood between us; I’ll always care about you, but this is why I broke up with you." Her final words hung in the crisp air, the space between them charged with unspoken emotions, each feeling heavier than the last. She didn’t give him a chance to respond as she stormed off, her footsteps echoing against the cemet path, moving towards the main building that housed the classrooms. The boy was left standing there, a knot of confusion and concern tightening in his chest.

“Elowen!” he called out, desperation lurking in his voice, but she didn’t bother to look back, her resolve unwavering as she disappeared through the doors.

“Well, that was sort of entertaining,” Emmett remarked with a playful smirk, tossing a bag of baby carrots onto his plate. The bright orange snacks clattered against the ceramic, largely untouched, as he leaned back in his chair, clearly amused by the drama he had just witnessed. "I like her she seems tough."

Rosalie scoffed, a light laugh escaping her lips. “She was a lot nicer than I would have been,” she replied, tapping her manicured nails against the table with impatience.

"I think she deserves better." Alice, ever the peacemaker, chimed in, her voice soft yet firm, as she glanced over at Jasper. He was still seated at the table, his gaze distant, fixed on the spot where the fiery-haired girl had just vanished. “Don’t you think so, Jazz?” she prodded gently, elbowing him playfully to draw him back from his reverie.

“Yeah,” he muttered thoughtfully, his eyes still roaming the window, searching for a glimpse of the girl. His mind was a flurry of thoughts and questions about the perplexing redhead whose emotions were so potent, he felt them lingering in the air like an unshakeable perfume. It was as if the very essence of her feelings enveloped him, striking him deep within his chest, where the rhythm of his heart once beat.

He had encountered people with strong emotions in the past, but this was different; she was different. Her feelings hit him like a wrecking ball, a force so powerful that it knocked him off his mental footing, leaving him reeling. As he tried to process the way her fury had resonated within him, he couldn’t help but ponder the source of her intensity—what had happened to make her emotions surge so vividly? With each passing moment, his curiosity about her only intensified, igniting a spark within him that he couldn’t ignore. Elowen , he thought, pretty name .

Chapter Text

JASPER HALE

He stepped into the classroom, the first to arrive, while the other students lingered in the hallway, purposefully dragging their feet as they made their way to their next class after lunch. The sound of the bustling corridors faded as he entered.

Turning to the front of the room, he was greeted by the teacher, who introduced himself with a warm smile. "Hello, I'm Mr. Varner," he said. Mr. Varner was an older gentleman, his hair a distinguished mix of salt and pepper that framed his face, and his deep brown eyes sparkled with wisdom. He possessed a vast knowledge, yet it was nothing compared to the knowledge that Jasper had amassed in his long life. In the realm of mathematics, particularly trigonometry, he found solace; it was a subject he felt could hardly be mishandled if one truly grasped its foundational principles. Each sine, cosine, and tangent function applied elegantly to the problems before him.

It was in history where he struggled,  not due to his lack of knowledge. There, he often found himself struggling internally, biting back the urge to correct the teacher each time an inaccuracy regarding a date or significant event slipped from their lips. It was frustrating to witness such missteps when he was filled with a fervor for the past—an eagerness to share the details he had meticulously studied. Instead, he sat quietly, grappling with his irritation, unable to suppress the nagging feeling that the true narrative of history was being compromised in those moments.

"Jasper Hale," Jasper shook Mr. Varners hand in a gentle yet firm hold and watched as the man looked at him in mild surprise. His emotions ranged from curiosity to fear as he looked him in the eye. It was a normal reaction, the usual. Most humans regarded them with fright and intrigue , add in some misplaced lust and it was just another Tuesday for him.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Jasper said, his voice deliberate and calm, as his eyebrow twitched ever so slightly in amusement at the look of disbelief that spread across the teacher's face ... He understood the reason behind the teacher's astonishment—it stemmed from his manners, a quality that seemed painfully scarce amongst the typical modern teenager. Jasper had always known that if he were to be like everyone else, he would greet Mr. Varner with a casual “What’s up?” and take his seat without a second thought. But the lessons instilled in him by his mother were adamant, echoing in his mind with unwavering certainty every time he considered abandoning them.

His heart ached with the weight of those memories, the few human experiences he clung to. His mother had devoted herself to raising him as a true Southern gentleman; she had instilled in him the importance of manners and the value of treating his elders with the utmost respect. Ironically, despite the respect he offered, he found himself in a peculiar position—he was, in fact, older than the very teacher standing before him.

"Nice to meet you too Mr. Hale , here's the seating chart," Mr. Varner, with a practiced sigh, pulled out a slip of paper from the pile on his desk, revealing a neatly arranged seating chart that displayed small illustrations of the classroom desks, each adorned with the names of their assigned students. Jasper studied the chart briefly, then nodded in acknowledgment as he made his way to his seat. He deftly dropped his backpack on the floor, the thud echoing slightly in the otherwise hushed room, before sliding into the two-person desk. A quick glance around made it clear that there was no assigned partner for him; he had grown used to this isolation, often sharing classes with one of his siblings who provided a sense of security. This time, however, he was in this unfamiliar situation alone. He had to remind himself that Alice had assured him it would be okay.

Yet, beneath this surface calm, Jasper’s mind was a tempest of anxiety. He couldn’t quite grasp why they had decided to take this risk in the first place. Alice had insisted that it was crucial for him to adapt to being around humans without the comfort of family nearby, claiming it would help him gain the necessary experience. But to Jasper, it felt reckless—dangerously so. The possibilities loomed large in his mind: a simple paper cut could send him spiraling, someone might trip and fall nearby, or even the wrong scent could waft too close, and he could lose control in an instant , an outcome he feared more than anything.

The thought made him seethe with self-hatred. He was the only one in his family who struggled with maintaining control , the only one who felt this constant pull of danger that came from sharing the same space as humans. It was a burden he bore quietly, a shadow that lingered no matter how hard he tried to smile or mimic the carefree essence of his classmates.

As the final bell rang the other students trickled into the classroom in small clusters. Their voices filled the air with a clamor of chatter, their conversations weaving together lines of gossip and complaints, especially centered around the dreaded assigned seating. With a collective groan, they slouched into their desks, barely acknowledging Mr. Varner, who stood at the front trying to maintain some semblance of order.

Jasper, sitting in his familiar corner, felt a surge of familiar unease wash over him. He kept his head low, carefully avoiding eye contact with anyone around him. Gently, he pulled out his worn workbook, the pages slightly crinkled from numerous times of use, and arranged it neatly on the polished surface of his desk as if it would somehow shield him from the chaos.

But amidst the noise, there was an unmistakable shift in the energy of the room , a weight he couldn’t ignore. He felt her presence before he even laid eyes on her —an emotional aura that draped over him in a suffocating mix of guilt, sadness, and an unexpected sense of relief. He glanced up, scanning the room in search of her familiar silhouette, hoping to catch her eye and find some semblance of understanding in the crowded classroom.

As she stepped into the classroom, her familiar, fiery red hair seemed to catch the light, blazing like a beacon and drawing his attention instantly. Even without that striking feature, he would have noticed her; her emotions radiated from her like an intense heat wave, powerful and undeniable. They called out to him, a cacophony of silent pleas that screamed for recognition, wrapping around him like an intricate spider’s web. Each thread pulsed with a life of its own, skillfully entangling him, as if she were ready to ensnare him, to draw him into her emotional world.

His senses heightened as he became aware of the raw energy surrounding her; it was both animalistic and intoxicating, evoking a sense of primal instinct deep within him. Her emotions were palpable, swirling around like a tempest , and he felt himself getting lost in the powerful aura she exuded. There was something both beautiful and terrifying about it  as if he were standing on the edge of a precipice, ready to plunge into the depths of her feelings, surrendering to the power that threatened to consume him.

He observed intently, his gaze sharp as she made her way toward Mr. Varner with quiet confidence, determined to introduce herself. It was an act of bravery that none of the other students—save for him—had dared to attempt. She offered a gentle smile  that seemed warm on the surface, yet did not quite illuminate her eyes, which flickered nervously at the seating chart hanging on the wall.

As she finished with Mr. Varner, she pivoted and began to walk towards the rows of desks. Was it possible that she would choose to sit next to him? The thought sent ripples of anxiety through him. No, he dismissed it immediately; Alice, his relentless and slightly overbearing sister, would never allow such an arrangement. But with each step, she drew nearer, and his undead heart raced in a way that both exhilarated and terrified him.

She finally reached the desk adjoining his and, without hesitation, dropped her bag with a soft thud onto the floor. He watched as she gracefully pulled out the chair beside him, the sound of the legs scratching against the linoleum making him flinch. In that moment, time seemed to freeze. A wave of uncertainty washed over him—he held his breath, paralyzed by the closeness that felt both invigorating and wrong. What was she thinking? This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She hadn’t even cast a glance in his direction as she rummaged through her oversized blue bag, her fingers deftly searching for her notebook and pens. A heavy sigh escaped her lips, a sound that resonated with both weariness and frustration. Jasper, observing her from the corner of his eye, felt a sudden wave of anxiety wash over him. Was she afraid? She hadn’t even looked at him yet, leaving him bewildered about the source of her trepidation.

His hands instinctively balled into fists, the tips of his fingernails digging painfully into the soft pad of his palm. The urge to rise from his seat and demand that Mr. Varner change his assigned position coursed through him, but before he could act on that impulse, a gentle voice cut through the tension in the air.

"You should move seats before it’s too late,” she said, her gaze still fixated on her bag as if it held some elusive treasure. Jasper paused, confusion flooding his mind—had she read his thoughts?

“Why’s that?” he asked, his voice low and laced with a hint of amusement, a chuckle bubbling up from his bemusement. As he spoke, he inhaled deeply, and in that instant, time seemed to freeze. The slight smile that had danced on his lips vanished abruptly, replaced by a profound sense of awareness. Her scent enveloped him completely, a rich blend of vanilla and cloves that wafted through the air, drawing him in. It was both intoxicating and soothing, a fragrant embrace that tantalized his senses . Sugar and spice.

He could taste the sweetness and warmth of her presence on his tongue, hear the soft rustle of her movements, feel the delicate brush of her aura against his skin, and see not just her physical form but the essence of who she was. The familiar pooling of venom in his mouth came not from his ravenous hunger but from a deep, inexplicable sense of satiation. As realization dawned on him, his head tilted slightly in contemplation; it was her. She was the catalyst of emotions he never expected to experience, leaving him both anchored and adrift.

At the sound of his voice, she slowly lifted her gaze, her expression momentarily frozen in shock, like a deer caught in the unyielding glare of headlights. In that moment, he was granted a full and vivid view of her face, an image that would linger in his mind for eternity. Her wide green eyes sparkled with an intensity reminiscent of the earth itself, deep and inviting, yet tinged with the sadness of recent tears. The delicate lashes framing her eyes were clumped together , evidence of the raw emotion she had been battling, highlighted by the soft redness that encircled them.

Her cheeks appeared to be infused with life , plump and rosy , as a gentle blush spread across them, giving her an almost ethereal glow. Freckles dusted her small, upturned nose like a constellation of stars—a charming feature that added to her allure. Her lips, perfectly shaped and tinted a natural pink, parted slightly, revealing her surprise and vulnerability.

In that fleeting moment, he realized she was the most breathtaking being he had ever encountered; a statement that carried immense weight considering the countless years he had lived. Even compared to the extraordinary beauty often attributed to his kind, she eclipsed all. The realization struck him like a thunderclap: he would do absolutely anything for her, be anyone she desired  if only she would ask.

In his mind's eye, he envisioned himself traversing the treacherous fires of hell or storming the grimmest of castles, all for the chance to bask in her presence just a little longer. Around them, the classroom faded into a blur, the chatter of students became a distant murmur, and Mr. Varner’s voice dissolved into silence. The confines of the school, the town, the state, and even the world at large melted away, leaving only her, illuminated in his focus. She was, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, and as his heart raced in her presence, he knew he was irrevocably drawn to her light. She was stunning.

ELOWEN REED

He was stunning—captivating in a way that took her breath away and sent a shiver down her spine. She had never before encountered a man so painfully handsome that it felt almost like a physical ache in her chest. His rich honey-blonde hair tumbled effortlessly in soft curls, framing his chiseled face like a golden halo. Each tousled strand caught the light, accentuating the strong lines of his features. His strong arched brows added an air of intensity, while his thick, jet-black eyelashes framed startlingly vivid eyes.

Those eyes were nothing short of extraordinary—deep and enigmatic, they held the chaotic beauty of a storm. The amber hue of molten gold, swirling and reflecting the light with an alluring warmth that seemed to pull her in. She felt as though they could see right through her, unraveling her thoughts and insecurities with a single gaze. He had distinct cheekbones that carved a striking contrast against his fair, almost ethereal skin—so pale it looked like the untouched snow of a winter’s night.

He was tall—towering, really. Even seated, he loomed over her, his height accentuating the graceful way he carried himself. His lean frame hinted at a hidden strength, the kind you could sense without needing to see it in action. His muscles flexed ever so slightly. Every movement he made was infused with a quiet confidence.

What captivated her the most was the way he looked at her. His gaze was filled with a profound sense of awe and wonder that felt almost worshipful, as though she were the most incredible sight in the universe. It was as if he believed she had woven the stars into the fabric of the night sky. She could feel her cheeks flush deeply under his scrutiny, and an overwhelming sense of unworthiness washed over her. How could someone so remarkable look at her with such admiration?

She fought to recall her voice as the weight of reality settled heavily on her chest. How long had she been staring at him? It felt like an eternity—but it could have been mere minutes or perhaps even hours. Time had lost all meaning in his eyes. A thick wave of anxiety pooled deep in her gut, churning uncomfortably as she gazed at the figure of undeniable beauty sitting beside her. In his presence, she felt incredibly small, as though the universe had shrunk around them, leaving her exposed and vulnerable.

“B-Because I heard Mr. Varner assigns a lot of pair work, and I—I'm terrible at math, so I don’t think I’ll be much help to you,” she admitted, her voice wavering, and feeling the heat of embarrassment creep into her cheeks. Just as anxiety threatened to take hold, an unexpected wave of calmness enveloped her like a warm blanket, soothing the racing thoughts in her mind. She could feel her shoulders relax, the tension easing just enough for her to breathe.

He chuckled softly, a sound that had drawn her attention away from her bag moments ago what she had been searching for long forgotten. Now, it resonated in her ears, rich and warm, like a distant melody that had settled into her heart. The sound was low and deep, almost like a trombone echoing in the room next door—musical and captivating in a way that sent her pulse racing. “I’m pretty good at math,” he confessed, a hint of playful confidence in his voice. Of course, he was; he had that aura, that natural intelligence that just radiated from him.

She ran a hand through her long, crimson hair, a nervous habit she had developed over the years. “Then that poses the opposite problem,” she muttered, her cheeks still burning from the embarrassment. “You’ll be stuck helping me all semester.” The lightness of her voice masked the insecurity that bubbled underneath

He leaned back in his chair, his dark eyes fixed on her with an unwavering intensity that made her heart skip a beat. “I’m a pretty good teacher,” he replied, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

“Yeah, humble too,” she joked, a hint of surprise coloring her own tone as the words slipped out before she could fully register them. Had she really just said that to him? The realization flooded her with a new wave of anxiety that was battling with the foreign calmness, as she internally scolded herself. She had let herself speak so freely, as if she were chatting with Lila or Danny, friends she could be herself around, rather than the most gorgeous person she had ever laid eyes on. What if he took offense? What if her sarcasm grated on him? Her mind raced through various apologies she could offer, but before she could settle on one, he laughed—a rich, melodic laugh that filled the space between them and washed away her worry. The sound was infectious, she found herself smiling in response, caught in the warmth of his mirth.

He smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Only around pretty girls," he declared with an air of feigned nonchalance.

Elowen felt her heart skip a beat as her eyes widened in surprise, warmth flooding her cheeks in a blush. A shy smile broke across her face, and she instinctively covered her mouth with her hand, stifling a giggle as she rolled her eyes at his cheeky remark. "Lucky me," she replied, her voice light and teasing. "A math tutor and a charmer all wrapped in one." She found herself mesmerized, her gaze locked onto his radiant smile, which seemed to illuminate the entire room, like the most beautiful sunset she had ever seen. The thought of looking away filled her with unease; she didn't want to miss a single moment of this enchanting exchange.

Just then, Mr. Varner’s authoritative voice broke through the sweet spell of the moment, rising above the buzz of chatter that filled the classroom. "Alright, if I can please get everyone's attention!" he called out, his tone slightly impatient. Elowen felt a surge of annoyance at the interruption, mentally cursing the man for shattering the flutter of excitement in her chest. She had no desire to delve into math or discuss the impending syllabus; all she wanted was to continue their playful banter and discover more about the charming mystery seated next to her—after all, she hadn’t even caught his name yet.

As Mr. Varner continued, his voice booming with authority, “I hope everyone enjoys the seating arrangement because there will be no changing of the seating chart until after Christmas break, so if you don’t like it… get used to it,” a collective groan echoed around the room. The students around her expressed their irritation at the rigid rules, but Elowen merely smiled, faintly amused. Silence came from their desk.

“Now, considering I only teach juniors and seniors, we're going to start with an icebreaker to help me get to know each and every one of you,” Mr. Varner announced with a hint of enthusiasm, though the sound of another round of groans echoed through the classroom. He shook his head with a playful smile. “Don’t worry, it'll be painless. We’ll just go around row by row. Stand up, tell me your full name, and share two facts about yourself. It could be your favorite color, something you love or hate, your dog’s name, or anything else you feel comfortable sharing. I’ll go first. My name is Mr. Varner, and I fell in love with math when I was a junior in high school just like you guys. Also, I run five miles every morning.” He grinned enthusiastically before pointing to the desk in the front row. “Your turn!”

A gentle, shy voice broke the slight tension in the room. “Hi, I’m Sarah Vincent. I have two little brothers, and I really enjoy science.” Elowen’s eyes widened in surprise; she hadn’t realized her friend was in the same class. Mr. Varner offered a warm smile and commented on her enthusiasm for science before moving on to the next student.

Elowen’s mind began to wander from the icebreaker as she reflected on her familiarity with everyone in the class, given how small their town was. She had shared a class with every person at one time or another…except for the boy who sat to her left. He was a mystery, standing out even among the colorful personalities around her.

It was clear he was one of the new students; that much was obvious. She would have remembered a guy like him from last year’s P.E. class. However, there was something oddly striking about him—he looked remarkably similar to Alice Cullen, the girl she had met earlier. Alice’s eerie, ominous words had left a peculiar sensation twisting in Elowen’s stomach, but sitting next to this boy brought her an unexpected sense of comfort.

Despite her feelings of anxiety, embarrassment, and insecurity, there was a reassuring layer of safety in his presence, one she couldn’t quite comprehend. With each similarity she noticed between him and Alice, there was also a stark difference. They shared the same captivating golden eyes, but his seemed to have a certain sparkle that Alice’s lacked. Their skin was equally pale, and both radiated an ethereal beauty, yet while Alice's hair was as dark as the midnight sky, his fell in soft, golden waves, reminiscent of sweet honey. It was confusing—how could they be related yet look so different?

Engrossed in her thoughts, Elowen was jolted back to reality when the boy stood up from his seat beside her. He was much taller than she had imagined, prompting her to strain her neck to catch a better look at him. “I’m Jasper Hale,” he said, his voice smooth and calm. “I just moved here with my adopted family from Alaska, and I enjoy being outside in nature.”

Jasper. The name was unfamiliar and intriguing. The fact that he was adopted helped explain their striking differences in appearance, yet it only deepened her curiosity about their unexpected similarities. If they weren’t related by blood, how was it that they both possessed the same rare golden eye color? Those questions lingered in her mind, leaving a sense of mystery hanging in the air as she processed this intriguing boy beside her.

  "Thank you, Jasper," Mr. Varner said with a warm smile as he leaned casually against his desk, the afternoon light casting a gentle glow across the room. "What do you enjoy doing outdoors?"

Jasper, exuding an air of cool confidence, replied, "My family does a lot of hiking and camping—anything to get ourselves outside." His voice was steady, yet if Elowen had been more attuned to her surroundings, she might have noticed the way her classmates fixated on him, their expressions a complex blend of envy and admiration.

"That’s wonderful to hear! We could all use some more fresh air," Mr. Varner exclaimed, his enthusiasm infectious. He turned his gaze to Elowen, who was still lost in her thoughts. As Jasper settled back into his seat, she felt a nudge of urgency to join the conversation. Standing up, she instinctively pushed her hair behind her ear, her heart racing slightly under the weight of so many curious eyes. Surrounded by the palpable tension, a peculiar wave of calm washed over her.

"I'm Elowen Reed," she introduced herself, her voice becoming gradually steadier. "I enjoy reading quite a bit, and I have a cat named Oliver whom I found in the woods."

Mr. Varner's eyes lit up with interest. "What genres do you particularly enjoy reading?" he prompted, eager to delve deeper into her interests.

"The classics, primarily," she replied, sustaining her composure as she spoke the lie rolling easily from her tongue. "A lot of Jane Austen and the Brontë sisters." Although this was partially true—she did appreciate the classics—she held her tongue on revealing the truth. She didn’t want to admit to the entire class, her teacher, and the boy sitting beside her that her true favorite books consisted of explicit fantasy romance novels. The thought of confessing her love for the steamy stories filled her cheeks with blood.

"Amazing! And your cat, Oliver—tell me more about how you found him," Mr. Varner encouraged, leaning forward with genuine curiosity.

Elowen's face lit up at the memory. "Well," she began, her voice brightening, "I was hiking with my grandpa in like the middle of nowhere when out of the blue, Oliver appeared. He was just there, mewing as if he had been waiting for us. I insisted we take him home; there was no way I could leave him behind."

Mr. Varner looked utterly captivated, nodding as she spoke. "Sounds like it was meant to be," he said, his tone warm and approving.

"I think so," Elowen replied softly, her heart swelling with affection for Oliver as the memory filled her with warmth.

"Thank you, Elowen," Mr. Varner said, shifting his attention to the next student, the classroom buzzing as each student introduced themselves. She sat patiently, tapping her pen rhythmically against the polished wood of the desk, each tap echoing her growing anticipation as the introductions gradually came to a close. Mr. Varner, with his neatly combed hair and glasses perched low on his nose, began to read over the guidelines for the year. She strained to focus on his voice, hoping to absorb every word about the upcoming assignments and projects, but her attention repeatedly drifted to the boy sitting beside her.

With each sideways glance, she found herself locking eyes with him, a flicker of surprise igniting in her chest. His blonde hair fell into his eyes as he peeked at her, a hint of a confident smile playing at the corners of his lips whenever their gazes met. Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson; she could feel the warmth spreading across her face, betraying her usual calm demeanor. Perhaps this year wouldn't be boring after all. The buzz of excitement surged through her as they exchanged furtive looks, each fleeting gaze a silent promise of something more to come.  

Jasper Hale was an alluring mystery, a figure shrouded in an air of intrigue that captivated her from the moment she met his eyes. There was a certain quiet intensity about him, a depth in his striking gaze that hinted at unspoken secrets and untold stories waiting to be discovered. As she observed him, she felt the thrill of anticipation coursing through her veins, a restless eagerness to peel back the layers of his mysterious exterior. With every subtle gesture and fleeting smile, he sparked her curiosity, compelling her to delve deeper into the complexities of his nature and the hidden truths that lay beneath the surface. Each moment spent beside him only heightened her determination to unravel the compelling mystery that was Jasper Hale.

Chapter Text

ELOWEN REED

As the final bell rang, echoing through the school hallways and signaling the end of a long day, Elowen gathered her belongings and stepped out into the cloudy afternoon sunlight. She walked purposefully toward the crowded parking lot. Through the rows of cars, she spotted Lila's van – a slightly worn but reliable vehicle that Lila's parents had generously given her. Lila had promised to drive Elowen home after school, alleviating her grandparents of the daily task. Elowen felt grateful for it. As she approached the van, she noticed Lila waving excitedly from the driver's seat.

While Elowen appreciated the ride, she couldn't wait to get her own car. Elowen was determined to save up to afford a car of her own , but her job at the local library over the summer had only yielded a modest amount of savings. She figured she could take up some weekend babysitting to earn the rest of the money she needed. As she climbed into the van, the air filled with the smell of Lila’s favorite lavender air freshener.

"That was such a drag," Lila groaned, her voice tinged with frustration as she popped open a power bar and took a bite, the chewy texture offering her a brief moment of solace. Elowen dropped her oversized bag down at her feet, the thud of it hitting the floor echoing slightly in the enclosed space of the car. She promptly fastened her seat belt, the familiar click filling the silence. "We have to wait for Sarah," Lila continued, her brow furrowing as she glanced at the clock on the dashboard. "I told her I’d give her a ride too since Elliot has practice today. I just hope she hurries up—I've got things to do."

"Yeah, no problem," Elowen replied with a nod, though her voice was distant. Her fingers absentmindedly fiddled with the sleeves of her navy blue jacket, a habit she often resorted to when she was lost in thought. Her mind drifted back to Jasper. Mr. Varner's lecture stretched on indefinitely. The endless stream of information kept her from sneaking even a casual conversation with him, and their only interaction  was a hurried, squeaky goodbye as she slipped out of the classroom. A flash of embarrassment coursed through her as she remembered how she’d darted away, feeling like a startled cat caught in the open. Elowen desperately wanted to have a real conversation; however, the fear of fumbling over her words and making a fool of herself held her back, leaving her caught in a web of anxiety and self-doubt.

Elowen couldn’t quite understand why this particular guy had her so captivated. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t encountered handsome guys before; there had been plenty who had crossed her path, each of them attractive in their own right. Yet none had ever left her feeling utterly speechless. Usually, she exuded confidence, walking with her head held high and a clear sense of self. But Jasper? He had an uncanny ability to make her forget the woman she thought she was. It both frustrated and intrigued her, leaving her to wonder what it was about him that had such a profound effect.

“Hello?? Ellie?” Lila’s teasing voice jolted Elowen back to the present, slicing through the haze of her thoughts. She shook her head vigorously, trying to dispel the whirlwind of emotions and confusion swirling within her.

“What’s wrong with you?” Lila asked  her tone a mix of concern and amusement.

“Nothing,” Elowen replied too quickly, her voice rising an octave as she raked her fingers through her hair in an attempt to regain her composure.

“Nothing? Yeah, right!” Lila scoffed, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she continued to drive out of the nearly empty parking lot. "You forget how well I know you."

“Is it about that guy, Jasper?” came a voice from the back seat, making Elowen jump slightly in her seat. She hadn’t realized Sarah had joined them in the van.

“What? What guy?” Lila's excitement was palpable, causing her to glance in the rearview mirror with an eager smile.

“One of the new kids,” Sarah replied, her voice casual but her energy unmistakably charged. She bit her fingernail nervously, a habit she always had when she was anxious. “He couldn’t keep his eyes off Ellie the whole class! I don’t think he heard a single word Mr. Varner said.”

“What!” Lila exclaimed again, her eyes widening in disbelief and delight.

“That’s not true,” Elowen interjected, rolling her eyes in exasperation. Sarah always had a flair for the dramatic, and while it was true that she caught Jasper stealing glances in her direction a few times, that didn’t necessarily mean anything significant. After all, he was new to the school; he didn’t know anyone yet and was simply trying to find his place among them. That was all it could be, she insisted to herself, even if the fluttering in her stomach suggested otherwise.

"Oh my god!" Lila squealed, her voice bursting with excitement as she leaned forward in her seat. The afternoon sun streamed through the car windows, illuminating her animated face. She had been firmly anti-Alex since Elowen started dating him the previous year, eagerly waiting for her friend to finally realize that she deserved someone better . "They're so hot; Anna was so right about them. I had a class with one of them, Rosalie. I think I had a mini stroke when I laid eyes on her. She’s like the most breathtaking person I've ever seen in my life. I genuinely lost brain function just looking at her."

"They are really attractive ," Sarah chimed in softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She felt her cheeks burn a deep crimson as she thought of the stunning family.

"But it’s weird, right?" Lila continued, glancing into the rearview mirror to catch Sarah’s eye, her excitement bubbling over as they drove towards Elowen’s house. "Like, how can they be so incredibly hot?"

"I dunno? Good genes, maybe?" Sarah offered, shrugging lightly. Lila snorted in disagreement, clearly not satisfied with the answer.

"Does it even matter?" Elowen interjected, her tone sharper than she had intended. She looked out the passenger window, her gaze trailing the trees blurring past, trying to dismiss the flutter of nerves she felt at the mention of the family.

"Oh, someone’s touchy," Lila teased, her eyes glinting with mischief as she caught a glimpse of Elowen’s expression. The usually cheerful girl leaned her head against the window, momentarily lost in thought, her mind turning over the implications of the conversation .

"Oh my god, El," Lila suddenly screeched, her excitement returning tenfold. "You like him, don’t you?"

"I don’t even know him!" Elowen rolled her vibrant green eyes, feigning annoyance as her heart raced at the unexpected idea. She didn't like him she was just fascinated by him- that's  all.

"Bet you want to, though," Lila grinned broadly, her playful demeanor unwavering. "I totally support it; you deserve someone good in your life ."

"Lila, you don’t know him either," Elowen replied, her voice laced with skepticism. "How do you know he’s any good?"

"Please," Lila scoffed dramatically, waving her hand dismissively. "Anyone would be an upgrade from Alex." Her expression twisted in disdain at the mention of her friend’s previous boyfriend. Elowen groaned  she thought she would finally be free of the Alex hate train after breaking up with him, but it seemed Lila's hatred would last a lifetime. She knew why Lila loathed her ex ... sure he was forgetful and never made time for Elowen nor did he ever put much thought into her. But he was her first love, her first kiss, her first everything. She would always have a soft spot for the boy, Lila on the other hand  would not.

"We barely even talked," Elowen explained, a hint of frustration in her voice as she leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

"Well, what did you say to him?" Sarah asked, leaning in with curiosity.

Elowen took a deep breath, reliving the moment. "I told him I was really bad with math, and he said that he was pretty good at it and wouldn’t mind helping me out." As she spoke, her friends erupted into a chorus of excited squeals, their enthusiasm filling the van.

"That's so sweet!" Sarah exclaimed from the back, her eyes gleaming with excitement. She was the quintessential hopeless romantic, always dreaming of fairy tale endings and spending her afternoons engrossed in cheesy Lifetime movies. The thought of a budding romance always made her heart flutter.

Lila, ever the enthusiastic cheerleader, widened her brown eyes in disbelief. "He's totally into you! I mean, who just offers to help like that if they don't have a crush?"

Elowen shook her head vigorously, trying to dismiss Lila’s bold assertion. "No, he's not. He was just being nice; that's all."

"Well, what happened next?" Lila pressed eagerly, hanging on to every word.

Elowen felt her cheeks heat up, a rush of warmth spreading across her face. "W-Well, I guess he called me pretty," she admitted shyly, her voice barely above a whisper. The memory sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach as she recalled the way his gaze had lingered on her.

"Are you kidding me, El?" Lila exclaimed, her jaw dropping in disbelief as she turned to face her friend. "Why would he say that if he wasn't at least a little bit interested in you? You should definitely ask him to hang out this weekend!"

Elowen’s heart raced at the suggestion, her cheeks warming slightly. "What?" she gasped just as Lila's old van pulled into her driveway. Panic washed over her, and Lila quickly put the vehicle in park, unwilling to let go of this pivotal conversation too soon. "N-No, I can't do that."

Lila raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Well, why not?"

Elowen fidgeted in her seat, biting her lip as she searched for a reason. "I don't know... because we're strangers. I mean, we barely know each other!"

"Exactly! And that's the whole point of inviting him to hang out," Lila insisted, her tone filled with encouragement. "You get to know each other better. It could be fun!"

Elowen sighed, feeling the weight of the decision hanging over her. "I'll think about it," she finally conceded, knowing deep down that it was just a polite lie. She had already mulled it over in her head. The mere thought of approaching him felt both exhilarating and terrifying. What if he said no? The possibility of turning math class into an awkward experience sent a wave of anxiety through her. She was already terrible at the subject she didn't need another reason to loathe attending the class. In her mind, they were destined to be just math partners—nothing more, nothing less—stuck behind the anonymity of classroom assignments. That was for the best.

She stepped into her house, the door creaking softly behind her after she said her final goodbyes to her friends lingering outside. Lila and Sarah, waved cheerfully as she drove away, leaving her alone in the quiet embrace of her home. The air was warm, and the faint scent of woodsmoke filled the space, the fireplace was still ablaze with flickering flames, casting playful shadows on the walls.

The house was silent, save for the crackling of the fire. Her grandfather was still likely at work while her grandmother, she figured, was probably enjoying her customary afternoon tea with the ladies or volunteering at the local food bank, knitting together the community one warm meal at a time.

With a heavy heart and a mix of fatigue and reflection from the day’s events, she trudged into her bedroom, the sanctuary that felt more like a refuge. As soon as she reached the bed, she collapsed onto it, burying her face in the soft pillows and releasing a deep, weary sigh that echoed her emotions.

Oliver, her loyal feline companion, wasted no time. He leaped onto the bed with the grace only a cat could muster, landing beside her with a gentle thud and letting out a soft meow as if to inquire about her well-being. She turned her head, meeting his bright, curious eyes, and extended her hand to stroke his velvety fur.

“What a day, Oliver,” she murmured, her voice filled with exhaustion and a hint of nostalgia. “What a day.” The warmth of his purring provided a comforting backdrop as she began to unwind from the whirlwind of emotions that had followed her throughout the day.

JASPER HALE

He couldn't remember the last time he felt so enthralled, as if every nerve in his undead body had suddenly come alive with a spark of excitement. His life as a human had been steeped in the relentless monotony of ranch work—days spent under the glaring sun, tending to livestock and crops. While he found satisfaction in the rhythm of hard labor, he was too young to fully appreciate the subtle beauties and experiences life had to offer. In contrast, his existence as a vampire had plunged him deep into a chasm of violence, death, and excruciating pain. Each memory was a haunting reminder of the brutality that had shaped him, leaving scars far deeper than any physical wound.

When he joined the Cullens, alongside the spirited Alice, he had such high hopes. However, the reality of his new life was one of boredom and a crushing sense of imposter syndrome. Despite forming bonds—family-like relationships with the Cullens—that should have filled him with warmth, he felt as if he existed on the periphery, observing rather than participating. He was acutely aware of his own darkness compared to them. Each member of the family radiated a brilliance he could only admire from afar; he was the one marked by a history of cruelty and violence. The insatiable hunger that nagged at him was a constant reminder of his struggles, a shadow lurking just beneath his veneer of calm. Even Alice and Edward, who had yet to find their mates, seemed unaffected by the weight of their search.

In his heart, he grappled with a profound sense of isolation. It was as if there was a critical malfunction in the communication between his heart and mind, a dissonance that left him feeling fragmented. He held an immense love for his family and felt an everlasting gratitude for the sanctuary they provided, yet despite that love, he felt incomplete—an unfinished puzzle. Sixty years had passed in an endless cycle of searching, and he was haunted by the fundamental questions that echoed in his mind: Why was he here? What purpose did his existence serve? Each thought felt like a relentless interrogation, the questions hammering against his consciousness like police banging on a door during a raid. The answers eluded him, and the chaos left him feeling more lost than ever.

Then everything changed—her.

In that miraculous moment when he laid eyes on her, it was as if the universe had finally aligned in a way he could never have predicted. The beautiful red-haired girl captured his attention in an instant, wrapping him around her finger effortlessly. The sensation was shocking and strange, foreign yet undeniably right. It was a feeling he had heard about countless times from Carlisle, Esme, Emmett, and Rosalie. They spoke of a powerful bond, an overwhelming connection that defied logic. It had never made sense to him before. How could one look at a person and instinctively know they were meant for them? How could a heart become so deeply attached to someone it had yet to truly know?

But in that moment, surrounded by her ethereal presence, everything crystallized into clarity. He understood now. She was the missing piece he had been searching for all along.

"I told you it wouldn't be much longer," Alice chirped playfully, her voice filled with contagious excitement as she danced into the living room. She moved with the lightness of one who had just received the best surprise, twirling around as if the weight of the world was nonexistent—like it was Christmas morning, full of promise and joy. Jasper, lounging on the couch, rolled his eyes at her antics, but a playful smile tugged at the corners of his lips, betraying his amusement. In that moment, he felt an overwhelming sense of happiness envelop him.

"You couldn't have warned me?" Jasper teased, tilting his head lazily to meet Alice’s sparkling gaze. His voice was laced with mock exasperation. "I would have picked a different outfit," he added with a chuckle, his eyes drifting over the casual clothes he wore.

Alice, with her wild, dark spiky hair bouncing as she shook her head, let out a bright, twinkling laugh. "First of all, I picked that outfit for you, and it's absolutely perfect," she exclaimed with conviction. "Secondly, I couldn't tell you; it might have changed things." She shrugged nonchalantly, a sly grin dancing on her lips as she gestured around the room. "Isn't she just great?"

"Yes," Jasper sighed contentedly, a warmth spreading through him as he thought of the woman who had already stolen his heart. "Yes, she is." Just then, Alice clapped her hands together in delight, and their family members began to trickle into the living room, joining the vibrant atmosphere.

"Congrats, bro!" Emmett boomed, throwing a hefty arm around Jasper's shoulders as he clapped him heartily on the back. "A red-head. Nice. Very nice." The humor in his voice was unmistakable, a playful jab at his brother’s new romantic venture.

"Emmett," Rosalie interjected sharply, her gaze narrowing as she shot him a disapproving scowl. She had resumed her position a few steps away, arms crossed and a slight frown marring her otherwise flawless features. Yet, despite her initial disapproval, she offered Jasper a small nod of acknowledgment, recognizing the joy that lit up his eyes.

It had taken Rosalie a considerable amount of time to come to terms with the idea of Jasper forming a bond with a human mate. They had all been uncertain ever since Alice had shared the vivid vision of Jasper with a woman; it had been ambiguous whether she was human or otherwise, and Rosalie had secretly prayed that she would not be mortal. But Jasper was adamant about embracing his mate, no matter the risk. His determination to control his bloodlust had intensified, driven by the desire to protect his new partner from any potential danger. Little did he know, the depth of his efforts might not matter in the grand scheme of things.

"Her scent didn’t affect you?" Edward interjected suddenly, his tone laced with curiosity as he sifted through Jasper's thoughts like an open book. The moment the words left his lips, Jasper shot his brother a sharp glare, silently chastising him for intruding upon the privacy of his mind. Edward, ever perceptive, lowered his gaze in a show of regret, recognizing the line he had crossed.

"What?" Esme exclaimed, her voice rising in shock as she leaned forward, her maternal instincts spurring her to react. "Jasper, is that true?" The concern in her voice added to the growing tension in the room.

Jasper nodded slowly, his expression shifting to one of earnestness as he spoke. "I was right beside her the entire time, and I didn't feel affected at all—at least, not in terms of hunger." He paused, his brow furrowing in contemplation. "In fact, her scent was so intoxicating that it blurred out everyone else's around us. She was… captivating."

"Thank God for that," Rosalie muttered sharply, her voice low but filled with a sense of relief that rippled through her. Though she maintained her protective façade, Jasper could feel the weight of her concern dropping slightly. She had been deeply worried about his human mate ever since he embarked on his search for her. Hundreds of questions plagued her: What if she discovered their true nature? What would happen if Jasper accidentally harmed her? Or worse, what if she wanted to become a vampire? What if she wanted to remain human? The worries were incessant. Yet this new development—his assurance that her scent didn’t incite his thirst—had calmed one of her many fears.

Jasper had a way of soothing those around him, and he reassured his family that he would honor his mate's choices, whatever they might be. Whether she longed to join their immortal world or chose to remain human, he promised to respect her decision.

"I'm so happy for you, son," Carlisle said, his voice warm and gentle as he looked at Jasper, who sat before him with a light in his eyes that hadn't been there before. It was evident to everyone gathered that the young girl he spoke of had already started to weave her magic around him; he seemed lighter, almost as if a bright, unseen force had lifted him. The change in him was palpable, and more than any of them had ever witnessed. Each member of the Cullen family had their own opinions about Jasper's human mate, but one thing was universally understood: he looked genuinely happy, and he absolutely deserved every bit of it.

“Oh, I can't wait to meet her!” Esme exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over. She adored her family deeply, and nothing hurt her immortal heart more than witnessing their struggles and unhappiness. It was as if she could feel their pain viscerally. She often felt a pang of guilt for her own happiness; she had found her soulmate long ago, but her other children—Edward, Alice, and Jasper—had been wandering through the endless expanse of time, searching for their other halves. They deserved the same joy and serenity that came with love, and at last, one of them had discovered that joy.

“So! What are you going to say to her tomorrow?” Alice burst out, propelling herself onto the couch next to Jasper, her excitement palpable. Her eyes sparkled with an unfettered energy as she leaned in closer, completely enraptured by this pivotal moment in her brother’s life. Jasper glanced around the room, his gaze taking in each member of his family. Alice and Esme beamed with joy that radiated from them like sunlight. Carlisle looked on with a mixture of contentment and relief, grateful to see his son so transformed. Emmett was practically vibrating with amusement, his usual playful grin stretching wider as he took in the scene. Rosalie, though her features were composed, wore a complex expression, reflecting her own mixture of worry and happiness—a bittersweet cocktail of emotions. Meanwhile, Edward observed with intrigue, a flicker of envy passing through him, hinting at his own struggles as he silently wished to experience the kind of love that now seemed so close for his brother.

The room buzzed with anticipation and hope, each member ready to support Jasper as he prepared to take this monumental step into the unknown, fueled by the promise of love.

Chapter Text

ELOWEN REED

Was she nervous? Absolutely. Was she considering skipping class on the second day of school? Undoubtedly.

"Stop being such a chicken and go!" Lila exclaimed, her voice a mixture of encouragement and playful teasing as she gave Elowen a gentle shove toward the door of the Trigonometry classroom. The air buzzed with electric energy as Lila's laughter cascaded behind her, accompanied by the cheers of their friends who lingered nearby, clearly enjoying the unfolding drama. Lila had wasted no time in alerting the group about Jasper Hale's supposed crush on Elowen and the vague feelings she believed Elowen harbored in return. This news sparked a wave of excitement among her friends, who were now fervently urging Elowen to make the first move and invite Jasper to hang out. However, Danny stood apart from the rest, his arms crossed and an expression of skepticism on his face; he wanted to assess the Hale boy first before he could give his approval.

Elowen sighed inwardly, finding the entire situation utterly ridiculous. Did they really believe she had any romantic connection with Jasper? She had exchanged only a few words with him—hardly the stuff of grand romantic gestures. In fact, she had experienced more meaningful conversations with the deli worker who prepared her sandwich at the supermarket than anything she had shared with Jasper the day before. Her friends were taking the situation far too seriously.

"I'm going," Elowen declared, rolling her eyes in both resignation and determination as Lila gave her one last push into the classroom. The moment she stepped through the door, she could feel the weight of her friends’ expectations on her shoulders. Turning slightly, she caught a glimpse of them outside, clapping their hands and giving her enthusiastic thumbs-up gestures, their wide grins almost comical. You chose these friends, she reminded herself. They meant well, but did they really think it was that simple? As she took a deep breath and stepped further into the room, she resolved to navigate this chaotic mix of friendship, expectations, and the uncertainty of a blossoming crush on her own terms.

Elowen shifted her gaze upward, and her breath hitched in her throat. There he was, already settled into their shared desk, an air of mischievous charm radiating from him. A playful smirk curled at the corners of his lips  as if he had heard everything her friends were saying to her out in the hall—a notion that was, of course, impossible. His hands were casually tucked behind his head, and he leaned back in his chair with an effortless grace that exuded confidence. It was the kind of demeanor that made her heart race, thudding heavily against her ribcage.

Jasper was dressed comfortably, similar to the previous day, sporting a simple black long-sleeve shirt that hugged his form just right, and perfectly fitting jeans that accentuated his long legs. His combat boots, scuffed yet stylish, completed the look, presenting an effortlessly rugged appearance. His hair was more tousled than the day before, giving him a slightly disheveled appearance , yet he looked as though he had just stepped off a glossy magazine cover. A warmth of anxiety bubbled within her, rising like a tide. What if her friends had been wrong about his supposed interest in her? Or worse yet, what if they were right?

Elowen steeled herself and began to make her way toward the desk, each step drawn out as if the longer she took, the longer she could avoid the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. However, as she neared the desk, an unexpected wave of calm began to wash over her, easing the tight knot of anxiety in her chest. Fueled by a newfound sense of resolve, she quickened her pace.

"Hello, Elowen." His voice broke through her thoughts first, sending her heart racing another notch higher. It was a small victory that he had initiated their conversation. A deep timbre laced his words, causing a blush to bloom across her cheeks as she felt his piercing gaze sweep over her face with an intensity as if he was memorizing every feature, every curve and freckle. The way he pronounced her name—full and rich—sent a delightful shiver spiraling down her spine. Her full name was seldom used; most people preferred the casual brevity of a nickname like El or Ellie. Yet at that moment, as he spoke her name so beautifully, she realized she never wanted to hear another shortened form again.

She mustered a smile, soft yet genuine, and replied, "H-Hi, Jasper." With a delicate motion, she pulled her chair out and settled into her seat beside him, feeling the familiar warmth of his presence envelop her.

"How's your day?" he asked, his voice thoughtful and genuine. Typically, small talk reeked of insincerity, a hollow exchange filled with obligatory questions. But the way Jasper leaned forward, his interest palpable, made her feel as if he truly cared about the intricacies of her day. The distance between them seemed to shrink, and suddenly, the air felt charged with an electric tension that made her heart skip a beat. Had she forgotten how to breathe?

Elowen swallowed hard, the thick knot in her throat making it difficult to form her thoughts. “It’s been good, I guess. I-It's school, so…” Her voice trailed off, uncertainty coloring her tone. She chided herself for the lame answer.

“High school,” he chuckled deeply, a hint of nostalgia she didn't fully understand lacing his words. “It’s the worst.”

“It can be,” she conceded, her gaze dropping to the floor as she contemplated the myriad of experiences that defined her days. “But sometimes it can be good.” The memories of laughter and fleeting friendships flickered in her mind like a distant melody. She had met all of her closest friends at school, she had great victories in school, and some wonderful moments she would remember forever.

“It can be good, you're right” he echoed, though the sincerity in his molten gold eyes suggested he was alluding to something deeper than just a decent day in class. There was an intensity there, a warmth that made her heart flutter uncomfortably in her chest.

“How’s your day?” she ventured, her voice soft and hesitant as she sought to steer the conversation away from the heaviness she felt settling around them.

“It just got a little better,” he replied almost instantaneously, his words catching Elowen off guard. For a brief moment, she thought she had misheard him. A warmth coursed through her as her cheeks flushed, and she searched his face for any hint of deception. Was he teasing her, or playing some cruel prank? But as her eyes locked onto his, she found nothing but genuine honesty reflected back at her. He genuinely meant it. But why?

Shaking her head slightly, she couldn’t help but question him. “You don’t mean that,” the words slipped from her lips before she could think to hold them back. Doubt wove its way through her mind, even though she had witnessed the truthfulness in his gaze.

He appeared taken aback, a flicker of offense crossing his features. “Of course I do,” he replied, his voice steady, the conviction tangible. “You’re a nice, beautiful girl, and I would love the opportunity to get to know you better.” The sincerity behind his words wrapped around her, enveloping her in an unexpected warmth. "If you'd like of course."  

“R-Really?” Elowen stammered, in surprise. She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Surely, she must have fainted on her way into class, knocked her head, and was in some kind of comatose state; imagining everything that was happening. She laced her fingers together on her lap, squeezing tightly to remind herself she was present in the moment.

“Really,” he reaffirmed, his deep, resonant voice wrapping around her like a warm blanket and sending an unexpected shiver down her spine.

She swallowed thickly, feeling a flutter of nerves. "Okay," she managed to whisper, the words tumbling from her lips so quickly that she worried he might not catch them. But the sly smile that danced across his smooth lips reassured her that he had indeed heard. Just as they seemed ready to delve deeper into their conversation, Mr. Varner commanded the class's attention, abruptly cutting off a moment that had left Elowen feeling both exhilarated and anxious.

"Trigonometry is the study of the relationships between the sides and angles of triangles," Mr. Varner explained, his tone professional yet engaging. “It employs geometric constructions to calculate the measurement of angles based on the ratios of the lengths of the sides.” He paused, glancing around the room to ensure everyone was focused. "Today, we'll cover fundamental concepts, so that you all have a solid foundation in trigonometry—what it is and how to apply it. Tomorrow, we’ll begin exploring some key theorems."

Elowen let out a quiet sigh as she propped her head on her hand, her thoughts swirling with anxiety. It was just her luck that trigonometry, the subject she found most challenging, happened to be the class she shared with Jasper. The embarrassment of struggling in front of him was almost too much to bear. Especially since he had confidently claimed to be decent at math; if he had faced similar difficulties, it might have eased her humiliation. But of course, that was not the case!

"Don't worry," Jasper leaned in closer, the warmth of his presence enveloping her. He whispered in a low, comforting tone, his breath brushing against her ear and sending another shiver through her. "I'll help you," he assured her as if he could read the anxiety etched all over her face. His earnest expression suggested he truly wanted to ease her fears, and for a moment, she felt a flicker of ease amidst the pressure of the impending lesson.

Jasper kept his promise as the lesson progressed, quickly whispering explanations to Elowen in terms she could understand. This was very helpful. While Mr. Varner had a more clinical approach to teaching, Jasper took the time to explain the material to Elowen in a more practical way. She wouldn't say she was becoming a mathematician anytime soon, but she was understanding the concepts a little better than before. And if Mr. Varner noticed the constant whispering between the two, he didn't say anything.

The hour-long class felt like it flew by in a whirlwind, and before Elowen realized it, the shrill sound of the end-of-class bell echoed through the halls`. Mr. Varner, ever the diligent teacher, attempted to call out the homework assignment due the next day, his voice striving to pierce through the excitement and chatter of students eager to escape the confines of the classroom. However, most of them hastily shuffled out, backpacks bouncing as they took off down the corridors.

Amidst the chaos, Jasper lingered, choosing to stay behind even though his backpack was already slung over his shoulder, ready for departure. He stood by the desk, his eyes fixed on Elowen as she diligently packed away her notes, her hands moving with purpose yet tinged with a hint of nervousness. The moment she caught sight of him staring, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, heat creeping up her neck as she felt like the prey under his hawk-like gaze.

“Are you free this weekend?” Jasper’s low voice broke through her thoughts, causing Elowen's heart to race in her chest. Did he really want to spend time with her outside of school?

“U-Uhm,” she stammered, her throat suddenly dry as she zipped up her bag with shaky fingers. As she began to make her way towards the exit, Jasper stepped in line behind her, his presence both comforting and slightly overwhelming. “I’m babysitting in the evenings, but I’ll be free in the morning,” she managed to say, forcing a casual tone as they walked into the bustling hallway filled with students. She attempted to slow her rapid heart rate taking deep steady breaths.

“How would you like to get some coffee with me on Saturday?” His question hung in the air, punctuated by the hint of a smile curling at the corners of his lips.

Elowen’s eyes widened, a rush of surprise and excitement flooding her system. “Y-Yeah, that would be great,” she replied, a little more squeaky than she intended, her heart racing at the thought of being with him.

“I can pick you up if you’d like on Saturday—” he proposed, his voice smooth and inviting.

She quickly cut him off. “No, no, that’s okay.” The thought of being in such close quarters with him, confined in a car, made her head spin with a dizzying mix of excitement and anxiety. She shook her head quickly, her hair flicking around her shoulders. “I’ll just meet you at the café. How about Carver’s?”

“Perfect, 8 a.m.?” he suggested, his eyes bright with enthusiasm.

She winced, a playful pout forming on her lips. “Would 10 be okay? I’m a terrible morning person,” she joked lightly, doing her best to conceal her embarrassment. To her surprise, Jasper let out a genuine chuckle, the sound enveloping her in warmth. She adored the way his laugh resonated, filling the room with an infectious charm. It was as if it radiated from his entire being, his smile wide and sincere, crinkling the corners of his eyes in a way that made her heart flutter.

“Ten is perfect,” he agreed, still grinning, and as they exchanged one last shy smile, it felt like the promise of a new beginning blossomed between them.

"Ellie!" Lila squealed from down the hall, her voice ringing with excitement, but she suddenly froze, her eyes widening as she caught sight of who Elowen had been talking to. The redhead glanced up at Jasper, her cheeks flushing slightly as an apologetic expression washed over her face.

"Sorry, I should go," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she instinctively pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. The action was so familiar to her, a habit she often resorted to when feeling flustered.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he replied, his tone layered with an assurance that felt almost like a promise. As he turned on his heel, his long strides carrying him away with that effortlessly cool demeanor, Elowen exhaled deeply, a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding escaping her lips.

Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around her waist in a tight embrace. “Oh my god!” Lila shrieked into her ear, the sound was overwhelming and making Elowen wince slightly at the assault on her eardrum. "He is so hot! And I don’t even like guys, so that’s saying something!"

Elowen couldn’t help but chuckle at her best friend's boundless enthusiasm, delighting in the momentary distraction from her own swirling thoughts. Lila dropped her arms and stepped back to face her, her aqua-blue eyes sparkling with curiosity. "How'd it go? It looks like it went well, huh?"

Just then, Sarah darted into the scene, her cheeks flushed and a shy smile stretching across her face. Unbeknownst to Elowen, Sarah had been observing the interactions during the entire class, her heart racing with excitement for her friend.

"We're going to get coffee this weekend," Elowen announced, unable to contain the smile that crept onto her face. The revelation sent the girls into a frenzy, their voices overlapping in a chorus of excitement.

Lila’s jaw dropped comically as the realization hit her. "Wait, where? When?"

"Carvers at 10 on Saturday," Elowen replied, feeling a rush of giddiness as the anticipation built around her.

“Dude! I’ll be there with Maggie! Oh my gosh, this is perfect! We can sneak away halfway through, meet in the bathroom, and give updates!" Lila’s eyes gleamed with mischief and enthusiasm, clearly over the moon about the plan.

“Okay,” Elowen chuckled, her friend’s excitement infectious. Yet, beneath the surface, she grappled with a lingering confusion. She couldn’t quite wrap her mind around why Jasper seemed interested in her of all people. Sure, she considered herself kind and somewhat pretty, but a guy like him would undoubtedly be more attracted to someone like Cara Mallory—blonde, tall, and effortlessly charming. Cara's skincare routine alone costs more than Elowen's entire wardrobe.

And yet, it had been her he had asked to hang out with. This unexpected twist of fate sent her thoughts spiraling, her mind racing in all directions as she tried to decipher what it all meant.

“Maybe I’ll try to convince Elliot to take me out for coffee too,” Sarah suggested softly, glancing at her friends with a hint of longing in her eyes. She didn’t want to be left out of the fun they were all planning.

“Absolutely! Oh my god, it could turn into a triple date—even if we go separately!” Lila exclaimed enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I’d totally be up for that sometime in the future, but this weekend is all about Maggie for me. I want her all to myself,” she added with a mischievous grin while raising her eyebrows in a playful manner. "And I'm sure Ellie wants some alone time with her mysterious new guy." This caused Elowen to roll her eyes, a smile creeping onto her face despite the annoyance.

Just then, the warning bell for the final class of the day rang through the halls, cutting through their chatter and signifing that it was time to head to class. Lila quickly looped her arms through those of Sarah and Elowen, pulling them close as if to form an impenetrable trio. “Let’s go!” she squealed, her voice brimming with overwhelming glee. “I can’t wait!” Her enthusiasm was contagious, igniting a sense of anticipation in her friends as they made their way toward their classroom, ready to embrace the rest of the day despite the bubble of anxiety crawling up Elowens throat.

Thankfully the rest of the day went by in a flash and before she knew it Elowen was back home. She stood at the kitchen counter, her fingers deftly peeling a handful of potatoes, the smooth, pale skins curling away like ribbons. The warm, inviting aroma of fresh herbs filled the air as her grandmother, Lucille, skillfully chopped basil and thyme on a polished wooden cutting board. Soft light streamed through the window, illuminating the cozy space where music from an old record player created a nostalgic setting. Meanwhile, her grandfather, Gideon, sat comfortably on the worn couch, engrossed in a dog-eared novel that had clearly weathered many readings.

Lucille glanced over her shoulder, humming along with the melody that floated through the air. “How was your day, Dovie?” she asked, her voice warm and filled with genuine curiosity.

“It was good,” Elowen replied, her lips curling into a soft smile as she continued her task. “I—well, you remember the new kids that started school yesterday?” She paused to slice the potatoes into even chunks, the knife moving rhythmically. She had filled her grandparents in on the family’s arrival in their quiet, somewhat dreary little town, a topic that had sparked their intrigue like a breath of fresh air.

“Of course,” Lucille responded, nodding knowingly as she tossed the fragrant herbs into a hot skillet bubbling with olive oil, the sound sizzling and fragrant. “You share a class with two of them, right?”

“Yeah,” Elowen continued, her excitement building. “Well, the boy I have math with invited me to get coffee with him this weekend.”

“Oh, is that right?” Lucille’s eyes sparkled with delight, the corners crinkling as she leaned closer, her interest piqued. “Is this a date?”

At that moment, Gideon abruptly stood from the couch, his book forgotten in his hands as he turned his full attention to Elowen. She felt her cheeks flush crimson under his gaze. "A date?"

“No—no,” Elowen stammered, shaking her head vehemently, her voice almost a whisper. “It’s not a date. I think he just wants to make friends, you know? It’s kind of hard to do that when you’re stuck in a lecture.”

“That sounds lovely, little Dove,” Lucille beamed, her own memories resurfacing of being young and full of hope, meeting new people, and experiencing the bright, tumultuous feelings of first connections. A bittersweet pang tugged at her heart as she reminisced; those moments of young adult romance were tales she would carry to her grave, cherished yet hidden.

“When will you meet him?” she asked, trying to keep the curiosity from overwhelming her.

“We’re going to meet at Carver’s at ten on Saturday,” Elowen explained, her excitement bubbling over now that she shared more details. “He offered to pick me up, but I didn’t want to impose.” She tossed the chopped potatoes into the pan with the herbs, the sizzling filled the air.

“Ah, well that’s perfect,” Lucille declared with a bright smile, her eyes glinting with a playful glimmer of mischief. “Papa can take you he has an appointment around that time,” she added, glancing pointedly at Gideon, who wore a skeptical expression.

“Alright, but I want to meet this boy first,” Gideon replied, raising an eyebrow, his gruff tone softened by a hint of unease. He couldn't stand the thought of Elowen dating anyone, especially not the Calloway kid. The very idea of a new boy entering her life filled him with an anticipatory dread. As his little girl, Elowen would always be under his watchful eye, and he made it his mission to scrutinize every boy who dared to approach her. In his mind, they were all guilty until proven innocent, and he set about interrogating them as if they were suspects in a criminal investigation. The memories of his daughter’s heartache haunted him; he could not bear the thought of Elowen enduring the same kind of pain.

At times, Elowen could feel the weight of his sadness pressing against her, a silent storm brewing in his heart. He would look at her, and she would catch a glimpse of the anguish in his eyes—a deep, melancholic sorrow that seemed to pull him under. In those moments, she realized that he wasn't just seeing her; he was seeing his own daughter, who had faced struggles that left scars on both their souls.

They were remarkably alike, bound by shared traits and an unspoken understanding. Both boasted vibrant red hair that glinted like fire in the sun and earthy green eyes that sparkled with mischief and wisdom. It was as if they were reflections of one another, connected in ways that could not be easily explained. Their similar personalities only added to this bond; both possessed a sharp, sarcastic wit and an unwavering loyalty to those they loved. They were fiercely protective, ready to go to great lengths—even if it meant risking their own well-being—for the sake of those who mattered to them.

This fierce loyalty worried Gideon endlessly. He found himself constantly second-guessing every situation, plagued by what-ifs and maybes. His protective instincts, honed by past experiences, stirred an internal turmoil that was hard to shake. He just wanted Elowen to be safe and happy, something his own daughter never seemed to get.

“Papa, it’s not a date,” Elowen muttered, her embarrassment noticeable as she cast her eyes downward, stirring the potatoes with a sudden urgency.

“Sure, it’s not,” he snorted, eliciting a crescendo of laughter from Lucille that echoed warmly around the kitchen. Elowen rolled her eyes, a mix of exasperation and amusement flickering across her face as she meticulously chopped the vibrant vegetables for her dish. The rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board echoed in the quiet kitchen, but her mind was elsewhere, wandering to the fleeting moments of their earlier conversation. A blush crept across her cheeks as a thought danced teasingly in her mind: what if this was a date? Was that what he had genuinely meant with that mischievous glimmer in his eyes?

She shook her head, dislodging the notion like a leaf in the wind. No, it couldn’t be. He was new in town, just looking to make friends, to find that sense of community that always eluded newcomers. Their laughter had been lighthearted, filled with the easy conversations that sparked between companions. Friends—that was all this was. Right? She sighed softly, trying to refocus her thoughts on the dish simmering on the stove, but the warmth in her heart made her wonder if there was something more lingering beneath the surface.

Chapter Text

JASPER HALE

The week felt like an eternity, dragging on like a slow-motion film, with each day stretching far beyond the typical 24 hours. He found himself staring at the clock more often than usual, wishing for the luxury of sleep to whisk him away from reality and bring him closer to the freedom of the weekend. It was an unusual sensation; he hadn’t felt this way in a long time. He usually relished in the free time that his lack of sleep offered, it gave him more time to study, learn, and enjoy his hobbies. Now he was begging for it.

In class, the few moments they shared were fleeting—just short exchanges filled with nervous laughter and shy glances. His attempts at tutoring her were gentle and patient, yet they fell painfully short of what he desired. He longed for deeper conversations, for the sound of her laughter to fill the air, and for moments that lingered longer than just passing seconds. The scent of her hair, sweet and intoxicating, haunted him, making the wait for the weekend feel even more unbearable. Each day, he wished for just a little more time with her, a deeper connection that would satisfy the growing ache in his heart. His annoyance for Mr. Varner was growing each day his lectures interrupted his time with the beautiful redhead.

But finally, as the first rays of dawn broke through the curtains, Saturday morning arrived with a brilliant glow. The sun hung low in the sky, deep in the clouds casting a warm golden light over everything in Jasper's room. It felt much too early for someone with no obligation to rise, and yet he wouldn’t be meeting Elowen at the café for another five hours. The anticipation buzzed within him, igniting a spark of determination as he decided to sift through the clothes in his closet.

"Trying to get pretty for your girl?" Emmett’s teasing voice rang out playfully as he leaned against the doorframe of Jasper's room, arms crossed and a mischievous grin on his face. The honey-blonde, standing amidst a mix of neatly folded and haphazardly thrown clothing, rolled his eyes but couldn’t deny the truth in Emmett's words. Deep down, he wanted nothing more than to present his best self to her. He aimed to bring a soft blush to her cheeks and make her heart race with excitement—all the feelings he experienced at the thought of seeing her.

"Shut up," Jasper scoffed, a hint of amusement tugging at the corners of his lips, as Emmett sauntered into the room and dramatically flopped onto his bed with an exaggerated "umph." Although he didn't need the comfort of sleep nor had a romantic partner to share a bed with, Jasper had opted for one in his room because there was something about lying down in the soft cushions that soothed his thoughts. Alice had a similar arrangement in her room, insisting that her bed completed the aesthetic she carefully curated. In contrast, Edward had always found no purpose in such comforts—his existence was dictated by practicality rather than decorum.

"Nah, bro, not that one," Emmett shook his head vigorously, his expression bordering on concern as Jasper pulled out a deep crimson long-sleeve button-down shirt. “You’ll look like you’re trying too hard.”

"Aren't I, though?" Jasper raised an eyebrow, searching for understanding in Emmett's opinion. After all, he was making an effort because he wanted to impress Elowen. Wasn’t that exactly why anyone would dress up? It had been centuries since he had genuinely cared about looking good for someone. His previous relationships had been transient and lacking in depth; he often found himself wrapped in the shadows of fleeting encounters. The chaotic memories of his time with Maria, marked by manipulation and deceit, clashed painfully against the warmth he felt now. But with Elowen, everything felt different. This was real. His heart swelled with certainty—he was fully and utterly hers.

"Yeah, but you don’t want her to know that!" Emmett countered, waving a finger as if to punctuate his point.

"Don't listen to him," Rosalie chimed in as she gracefully entered the room, her presence commanding attention. She settled beside Emmett on the edge of the bed, casting a sideways glance at Jasper. He shook his head in disbelief; it seemed his once-private sanctuary had transformed into a gathering spot for his family. Did everyone in the house forget the simple art of knocking? "You should put some effort into looking nice... but," she trailed off, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized the shirt in his hands. With a small shake of her head, she exclaimed, "He is right, though... not that one."

"What?" Jasper huffed in exasperation, his frustration evident as he ran a hand through his honey-blonde curls. He scanned the contents of his closet with a mix of hopelessness and annoyance, each garment seeming less appealing than the last.

Rosalie couldn't hold back a soft giggle, a sound that broke the tension in the air. "Don't worry," she reassured him, her tone light and encouraging. With a graceful stride, she approached the closet, her fingers deftly sifting through the array of shirts hanging side by side. After a moment of searching, she pulled out a light grey henley shirt, its fabric soft and inviting.

Holding it up against his frame, she tilted her head, appraising his appearance with a playful glint in her eyes. "Here. It’s still nice but not too formal, and it really brings out your eyes," she teased, giving a light flutter of her eyelashes as if casting a spell of confidence upon him.

"Thank you," Jasper replied, his gratitude palpable in his voice as he accepted the shirt. He clutched it tightly, feeling the fabric between his fingers, as if it were a lifeline.

Rosalie stood beside him, her expression morphing into one of quiet concern as she observed her beloved brother. Though she hated to play favorites, a bond had always existed between them—Jasper had been a constant in her life, alongside Emmett, of course. They shared a deeper connection, forged by their dark and tumultuous pasts that intertwined their immortal lives in ways that few could understand.

While they enjoyed common hobbies, interests, and a similar disposition, Rosalie often found herself struggling to fully connect with the others. Alice was exuberantly chipper—a burst of sunlight that she could only handle in small increments—while Edward's brooding nature and perpetual judgment made her uneasy. Esme and Carlisle had become her chosen family, beloved but different in their parental affection, which only stretched so far.

But Jasper was different. He was her favorite, a comforting anchor in a sea of complexities, and though she would never openly admit it, she cherished the bond they shared. Rosalie found herself increasingly concerned about Jasper and the girl who had captured his attention—Elowen. From the safety of the sidelines, she had been observing Elowen at school ever since Jasper first discovered her. To others, Elowen might have been deemed quite pretty for a human, but in Rosalie's eyes, she paled in comparison. This was, of course, hardly surprising; Rosalie was used to being the prettiest in the room her ethereal beauty was well beyond that of ordinary humans.

But it wasn't just Elowen's looks that intrigued Rosalie; it was the warmth and sweetness that radiated from her, qualities that Rosalie found somewhat wearisome. Beneath that serene exterior, however, Rosalie sensed a complexity. There was a sadness that lingered in Elowen, a shadow lurking just beneath the surface of her placid smile. It was a sorrow that seemed almost tangible, carefully hidden but undeniably present as if it were a secret she carried alone—a burden she felt compelled to bear without exposing its weight to others.

Rosalie had also taken note of Elowen’s fierce loyalty, particularly when she stood up for her best friend against a hurtful comment about her sexuality. Watching Elowen defend her friend with such passion revealed a protectiveness that resonated with Rosalie. It was a quality she recognized in herself—a strong attachment to the people she cared about, a drive to protect them against negativity and harm. In that shared understanding, Rosalie felt a connection to Elowen that went beyond mere observation; it was a glimpse into the depth of her character, one that left Rosalie intrigued and perhaps even a little envious. Maybe the human wouldn't be so bad after all, besides she's never seen her brother look so genuinely content.

"Of course," Rosalie responded, her gentle smile illuminating her delicate features. The warmth of her expression was a contrast to the turbulent emotions that Jasper sensed swirling around him, but he chose to remain silent on the matter. His sister was a complex individual, often grappling with her own feelings, but at her core, she always meant well.

"Did you manage to get in a good hunt last night?" Emmett inquired, an inquisitive glint in his eye as he observed the darkened golden hue that had overtaken his brother's eyes. The change was subtle but telling, a sign that Jasper's thirst was beginning to stir within him. Jasper shook his head, a hint of disappointment tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I only managed to catch a couple of deer," Jasper admitted, his expression growing somber. He had spent the entire night in the woods, stalking through the underbrush in search of a more substantial meal, but it seemed the wildlife had evaded him. He felt the weight of his decision to stay close to home, worried that if he ventured too far, he might lose track of time and risk being late to his rendezvous with Elowen. The few deer he had found would suffice for now, though he knew it would only be a temporary fix.

Despite the brief reprieve from hunger, Jasper's thoughts drifted to Elowen. In truth, he had long since stopped believing in God, but if there was any divine presence in his life, it was her. Her blood, rich and sustaining, was not merely nourishment; it was a balm for his very soul. It soothed the incessant, burning pain that simmered in his throat—a reminder of the eternal hunger he had endured throughout his undead existence. Each encounter with her brought him a sense of peace and satisfaction that he had never thought possible.

"Are you going to be okay?" Rosalie asked, her voice laced with genuine concern as her eyes searched Jasper's face for reassurance.

Jasper took a deep breath, recalling Alice's unwavering confidence, and nodded firmly. “Alice said everything would be fine,” he replied, trying to inject some certainty into his tone. Deep down, he felt a storm of emotions swirling; he knew he would never hurt Elowen—but he couldn't make that promise for any other human who was around him if he lost control.

Emmett leaned back against the wall with a cocky grin, his usual playful demeanor shining through. "You're gonna kill it, bro!" he exclaimed, enthusiasm lighting up his features. Then, as the implications of his words registered, his expression morphed from excitement to wide-eyed realization. “Okay, maybe not kill it... more like crush it? No... excel? Yeah! You're going to do great!"

Jasper shot him an exasperated look, rolling his eyes at Emmett’s misguided pep talk. “Thanks, Emmett,” he replied dryly, a slight smile betraying his annoyance. Despite his worries, he couldn’t help but appreciate the lightheartedness his brother was trying to bring into the tense situation. He needed all the encouragement he could get.

ELOWEN REED

“You know, for what you're calling a 'not date,' you really seem to be fussing over your hair, Dovie,” Gideon remarked, a teasing sparkle lighting up his eyes as Elowen lowered the car's mirror to examine her reflection again. She caught a glimpse of her brow furrowing slightly in response to her grandfather's lighthearted jab, a mix of frustration and embarrassment creeping into her demeanor as she pushed the mirror back up, the subtle movement betraying her inner turmoil.

“It’s not a date, Papa,” Elowen replied with a firm conviction in her voice, though the soft blush that crept across her cheeks hinted at her uncertainty. She deftly tossed a few loose strands of her long, red hair over her shoulder, an action that felt almost rehearsed, as if she were trying to convince both herself and him of her nonchalant attitude.

“You look beautiful, and any guy worth his salt will see just how perfect you are,” he reassured her, a broad, proud smile breaking across his weathered face. His eyes crinkled at the corners, reflecting the love and admiration he felt as he glanced at his granddaughter, who had grown into such an impressive young woman right before his eyes.

“Thank you,” Elowen murmured, her voice softening as a shy smile curled at the edges of her lips. She tucked a loose strand of hair meticulously behind her ear, the gesture delicate and instinctual. The dashboard clock flickering suddenly drew her attention; it read 10:00 a.m., and a flutter of anxiety filled her stomach like a swarm of butterflies as the reality of the moment set in.

“You don’t have to come in to meet him,” she added, a note of uncertainty lingering in her tone as she glanced over at her grandfather, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure building within her.

Gideon’s deep, hearty laughter resonated around the car, filling the small space with warmth and comfort. “Oh, yes, dove, I absolutely do. Now, c'mon!” With that, he slid out of the car and pocketed the keys with an air of finality, as if sealing her fate. Elowen took a deep breath, feeling her heart race in tandem with her hurried movements as she opened the passenger door.

Together, they stepped out and made their way toward the café, a familiar spot within their town that was known for its cozy ambiance. Gideon held the door open for her with a gentlemanly flourish, a gesture that made Elowen smile despite her nerves. The bustling atmosphere inside enveloped them instantly; the vibrant hum of conversations intertwined with the delectable aromas of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon, creating an intoxicating environment that felt both inviting and overwhelming.

Elowen scanned the room, her eyes darting nervously through the multitude of older patrons, families enjoying their weekend brunch, and individuals lost in their thoughts. Then she spotted him—Jasper. He stood out distinctly amid the crowd, his confidence almost magnetic, an unmistakable presence that sent her pulse racing. The sight of him sent a rush of anticipation coursing through her veins as she inhaled deeply, preparing to step further into this moment that felt both exciting and terrifying all at once.

“He here?” Gideon asked, his voice a low murmur as he scanned the cozy cafe, searching for the young boy his granddaughter would be spending the day with. Elowen nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. Without wasting another moment, she grasped his arm and began to lead him towards a booth nestled in the back corner of the cafe, where a lanky boy with tousled hair was seated, intently perusing the menu. He looked ridiculously beautiful.

As they approached, Jasper looked up, and a broad smile illuminated his face upon spotting Elowen. He sprang to his feet, his hands instinctively coming together in front of him, a gesture of nervous excitement.

“Hey, Jasper,” Elowen greeted him, her voice a touch breathless, carrying a mixture of excitement and shyness that made her words almost dance in the air.

“Hello, Elowen,” Jasper replied, his tone warm and inviting, infused with a genuine interest that made it easy for her to feel at ease.

As she stood beside her grandfather, she took a moment to gather her thoughts. “This is my grandfather, Gideon,” Elowen introduced, her gaze flickering between Jasper and the older man, her cheeks flushed with a deep shade of embarrassment that radiated from her heart to the tips of her ears. She glanced up at her Papa with a shy smile, silently seeking his approval.

“Pleasure to meet you, sir. I’m Jasper Hale,” the young man said, extending his hand with a confidence that was both surprising and refreshing. Gideon accepted the handshake, his grip surprisingly firm, the strength of the young man's handshake causing his eyebrows to lift in mild surprise. It was a stark contrast to the dishearteningly weak handshake he had received from the Calloway boy, who seemed to possess the grip of a wet noodle, leaving Gideon quite unimpressed.

“Firm shake you got there, young man,” Gideon remarked appreciatively, a hint of amusement playing around the corners of his mouth. He couldn't help but mentally compare Jasper's grip to that of other young men he knew, glad to see at least some youth displaying such confidence.

“Thank you, sir,” Jasper replied, his politeness unwavering, his eyes steady and respectful as he held the older man’s gaze.

“Now, I gather you two will be enjoying some coffee together,” Gideon continued, his bushy eyebrows arched in curiosity as he scrutinized Jasper from head to toe. He took in the young man's attire—neatly pressed jeans that hugged just right and a casual grey shirt that exuded a laid-back yet polished vibe—before continuing, “But Elowen tells me this isn’t a date.”

“Papa!” Elowen gasped, her voice shooting up to a high pitch in a delightful mix of shock and indignation. A deep blush flooded her cheeks like a slow-moving tide, creeping up her neck in an embarrassed wave as she shot a quick glance at Jasper, hoping he didn’t take her grandfather’s playful jab too seriously.

Jasper let out a soft, polite laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “No, sir,” he affirmed, and at his words, Elowen felt her heart sink a little—a combination of disappointment. “I would consider myself incredibly lucky if Elowen agreed to go on a date with me, but I think it’s vital to establish a solid foundation of friendship first. If she’s not interested in dating, I would be more than happy to enjoy her company as a friend.”

His sincerity hung in the air between them, leaving Elowen with a swirl of emotions as she exchanged glances with Jasper, both nervous and excited about what he meant.

Gideon nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly as he scrutinized Jasper. "Good answer...perhaps too good," he said, a hint of a frown playing at the corners of his mouth.

Elowen, caught off guard by her grandfather’s pointed remark, felt heat rising to her cheeks. "Papa, please," she implored, mortified by the unexpected attention and the way her grandfather seemed to be teasing Jasper. Gideon glanced down at his granddaughter, a softening in his expression as he recognized her discomfort. With a gentle touch, he placed his hand on her shoulder, reassuring and warm.

“Alright, I’ll get out of your hair,” he said with a chuckle, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “But you call me if you need anything, alright, Dovie?”

“Thank you, Papa,” Elowen replied, relief flooding through her as she met his gaze.

Gideon then shifted his focus back to Jasper, his demeanor changing slightly as he regarded the younger man with a serious look. “And you,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, commanding tone, “You make sure that nothing happens to my little dove, alright?”

Jasper straightened, the weight of the unspoken responsibility settling on his shoulders. “Yes, sir, of course,” he replied, his tone imbued with a newfound gravity. It was as if the declaration had anointed him with a solemn vow, grounding his commitment to Elowen in a way that felt both powerful and pivotal. It was as if she was a delicate princess to whom he became knighted and would gladly lay his life down. Gideon’s stern expression softened with approval, a sense of pride and belief in the younger man radiating from him.

"I'll hold you to it," he remarked with a playful tone, leaning over to press a gentle kiss on Elowen's head. The warm gesture lingered in the air as he bid her goodbye.

Elowen turned to Jasper, her eyes wide with a mixture of regret and nervousness. "I’m really sorry about him," she said, her voice slightly strained. "He just had to meet the person I was spending time with, even though I assured him it wasn’t a date." She fiddled with the hem of her cardigan, trying to shake off the awkwardness that had settled in.

"It’s not a problem at all," Jasper reassured her, his voice calm and steady. He waited patiently until she slid into the booth across from him, his demeanor warm and inviting. As he settled into his seat, Elowen couldn’t help but notice his gentlemanly manners. It was a refreshing sight, one that would surely delight her grandparents, who often lamented the disappearance of such politeness in modern times.

"Good cover with the whole 'friends' thing, though," Elowen remarked, attempting to lighten the mood as she picked up a menu, even though she could rattle off everything the café had to offer from memory.

"Cover?" Jasper echoed, a puzzled expression crossing his handsome face. He tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing in genuine confusion as he studied her.

"Y-yeah?" Elowen replied, the uncertainty evident in her voice as she met his gaze. It was as if they were stuck in a moment of mutual bewilderment. "You know telling him that it wasn't a date since we weren't friends yet. Now he won't think us hanging out will be a date ever. That should put him at ease for a while." She smiled, proud of his cleverness, even as anxiety flickered within her.

He chuckled softly, his laughter rich and warm, and he instinctively brought a hand up to his mouth to hide his brilliant smile, although it shone through. "Elowen, that wasn’t a cover," he said, his tone shifting to something more serious. As her face paled, he continued, "I would be honored to take you out on a date. I just thought it might be better for us to get to know each other a bit before I asked."

Elowen’s heart raced at his words, her mind reeling with a swirl of emotions. Was he serious? She had sworn to her friends just days earlier that she wouldn’t date another guy until they had established a solid friendship first. But the idea of him wanting to date her sent her head spinning, a mix of excitement and disbelief washing over her. Her friends had been right all along, she thought, a smile beginning to creep onto her face as she considered the possibilities.

"Really?"

"Truly," Jasper said, his gaze piercing and earnest as he focused on her. Elowen felt a rush of warmth spread through her body, yet her throat suddenly felt parched. "If you'd be interested, of course. I'm also more than happy to remain your friend if that's what you prefer."

A whirlwind of emotions swirled inside her, overwhelming her senses. She didn’t know how to respond. Confusion clouded her thoughts. Deep down, she felt an intense, almost desperate longing for the boy sitting across from her. Yet, her rational mind screamed that this fervent attraction made no sense and was unhealthy. They had known each other for barely a week, while she had spent years building a connection with Alex before ever considering dating him. The contrast was stark and bewildering.

Sensing her hesitation, Jasper added with a gentle smile, "Or we can just take it day by day and see where it goes."

Relief washed over her, and she exhaled softly, grateful for his understanding. "Yes. I would like that very much," she replied, her heart racing.

At that moment, the waitress approached their booth with a bright smile, breaking the spell that hung in the air. "Hello! What can I get started for you?" she asked, her voice cheerful and inviting. Jasper, ever the gentleman, gestured for Elowen to order first.

With a bit of nervousness still lingering, she responded, "I'll have a hot chocolate and a blueberry muffin, please."

The waitress nodded, jotting down her order before turning her attention to Jasper. "And for you?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. However, the moment she met Jasper’s gaze, a look of surprise and desire crossed her face, and her jaw dropped slightly. Elowen watched with amusement as Jasper calmly placed his order for a black coffee, his focus unwavering as he returned his attention to her, completely dismissing the waitress after that.

The waitress was indeed pretty—a young woman with long, flowing brown hair and captivating blue eyes. Elowen vaguely recalled seeing her around school last year when she had graduated, but she couldn't quite remember her name. If Jasper noticed her lustful gaze on him he didn't comment on it.

“So Elowen you said you’ll be babysitting this evening?” Jasper asked, pulling the conversation back to her. He settled deeper into the plush booth seat, yet his eyes were locked onto her face with such intensity that it felt as if he were preparing to leap across the table.

“Y-Yeah,” she stammered, an involuntary blush creeping up her cheeks under his unwavering gaze. “I’m trying to save up enough money to buy a car. I worked at the library all summer, but it wasn’t enough for the car I wanted. So, I decided to babysit on the weekends for some family friends to earn a bit more.” Her words tumbled out as she explained her plan, a hint of excitement mingling with apprehension in her voice.

“What kind of car do you have your eye on?” he asked, his curiosity piqued, fully engrossed in the dialogue.

“My dad's friend has this old Volkswagen he said he’d sell to me,” Elowen replied, her enthusiasm tempered by a touch of embarrassment. She felt a twinge of self-consciousness, recalling the sleek, modern vehicles she often saw arrive at school, courtesy of Jasper's family. “It’s pretty old, but I’ve always loved vintage cars… I know it’ll probably cost me a fortune in repairs down the line, but as long as it can get me from point A to point B, that’s good enough for me.”

“That sounds amazing,” Jasper said, leaning forward slightly. “My sister Rosalie loves fixing up old cars. She’s got a real knack for it. I bet she wouldn’t mind lending you a hand.” His offer took her by surprise, and her eyes widened in disbelief. It would indeed be immensely helpful, but the thought of asking for help from someone she hadn’t even met yet made her hesitate. Yet, she had been wanting to meet more of Jasper's family. So far, she had only interacted with him and his sister Alice, but her friends were full of tales about the others.

Rosalie, described by her friends as a beautiful model, and Edward, a strikingly handsome yet reserved man who hardly spoke, were the two siblings she had heard the most about. Then there was Emmett, an imposing figure who seemed to embody the muscles of a half-giant. Rumor had it that Emmett and Rosalie were dating, an unconventional pairing that puzzled her friends. Their relationship struck everyone as strange, especially given that they were adopted siblings living under the same roof.

Though her friends loved to gossip, Elowen held her tongue out of respect. She didn’t want to pry into other people's lives, especially when it came to matters that might involve trauma or complex histories. After all, being adopted must come with its own set of challenges, leading to close-knit bonds among those who shared similar experiences. Who was she to cast judgment on their connections?

“That would be really nice,” Elowen said, re-entering the conversation. “Though I don’t even have the car yet…”

“How much more do you need to save?” Jasper inquired, his interest unwavering.

“Just about $250 more,” she chuckled softly, feeling hopeful as she imagined the possibilities. “Then I’ll be good to take it off his hands.” She recalled how her dad's friend had offered to lower the price, considering she frequently visited the reservation just to admire it, but she felt a strong urge to honor the original offer. “He gave me a price, and I want to stick to it, you know? It's important to me.”

"That's very admirable," Jasper remarked, his tone enriched with genuine admiration. He leaned slightly forward, allowing a glimmer of respect to shine in his eyes as he spoke.

“I don’t think so,” she said modestly, but just then the waitress arrived, sliding their drinks onto the table along with Elowen’s muffin. Elowen couldn’t help but notice the waitress’s gaze lingering on Jasper, her eyes drifting over him appreciatively, as if he were a charming dish rather than just a young man seated at the table. Jasper politely declined any additional offers before returning his focus to Elowen.

“Tell me more about you, Elowen,” he urged, leaning in as if eager to uncover her story.

“What do you want to know?” she asked, her voice a delicate mix of intrigue and trepidation. The words hung in the air between them, her curiosity piqued even as a familiar flutter of anxiety danced in her stomach. She absentmindedly twisted the ends of her hair around her finger.

“Everything,” he replied, his tone rich with earnestness and an almost feverish intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. There was a hunger in his gaze, a desire to peel back the layers and uncover the truths she kept hidden. She swallowed thickly, feeling the weight of his expectation pressing down on her. The prospect of revealing herself felt daunting, yet a part of her yearned to share the depths of her world with him. She just didn't know where to start.

Chapter Text

JASPER HALE

She sat right in front of him, a striking figure against the dim light of the cafe. For a man who never slept, he felt an unusual wave of uncertainty wash over him as if he were caught in a vivid dream. She was a breathtaking sight, her presence captivating.

She wore a long-sleeved green shirt that hugged her in all the right places, paired with a flowing skirt adorned with a dark floral pattern that danced gently with each subtle movement. Her black boots, scuffed and well-loved, clearly had stories of their own to tell. Over her outfit, she draped an oversized leather jacket, its rich texture and the aged scent of her grandfather. Each detail of her appearance seemed to weave together, creating an enchanting image that he would never forget. She was perfect.

"What do you want to know?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Shyly, she tucked a loose strand of fire hair behind her ear, revealing a delicate halo of freckles that danced across her cheeks. As she lifted the warm mug of hot chocolate to her lips, the steam curled upward.

"Everything," he replied, the word tumbling from his lips without a moment’s hesitation. The intensity in his voice revealed the depth of his curiosity. He was eager to dive into her world, to understand her favorite hues—did she prefer the soothing blues of the ocean or the vibrant reds of a sunset? What stories lay behind her childhood? He yearned to learn about her family, the bonds that tethered her, and what dreams danced in her heart, waiting to be realized. He wanted it all, from the grand narratives of her life to the most insignificant idiosyncrasies that made her uniquely her.

As she savored the sweet whipped cream, her tongue darted out to catch a delicate droplet that had escaped onto her lips. He found himself entranced by the simple, playful gesture, a rush of warmth spreading through him that seemed to thaw his very core. The way she moved was captivating, a blend of innocence and allure that he found utterly enchanting. Not only was she unaware of the effect she had on him, but it also seemed that she exuded a radiant charm that made the world around them fade away, leaving just the two of them in their own little bubble.

"Well, I live with my grandparents," she explained, her voice taking on a gentle, melodic quality. A hint of warmth brightened her eyes, and a small, tender smile creased her lips, revealing the deep bond she shared with them. Jasper could feel a wave of thankfulness and adoration emanating from her, as though her grandparents provided her with a sanctuary of love and support. "They’ve been raising me since I was eleven," she added, her tone imbued with a mixture of gratitude and nostalgia.

Jasper felt an undeniable connection to her words as if he could relate intimately to her experiences. "That's when I moved here," she said, her voice lowering slightly.. "I was a new kid once upon a time, just like you. I know how it feels to start over again in a new place," she continued, her tone softening as she recalled the memories that lingered just beneath the surface.

Curiosity swelled within him like a rising tide, compelling him to ask, "Where did you move from?" The moment the question slipped from his lips, he sensed a wave of sadness wash over her, accompanied by an undercurrent of guilt that suggested he had inadvertently pried into a tender subject.

She took a long, thoughtful sip of her steaming hot chocolate, the rich, chocolatey aroma swirling around them, as she gathered her thoughts. After a pause filled with silence, she replied quietly, almost hesitantly, "Fort Hood."

Surprised by her answer, Jasper raised an eyebrow, his mind racing to process the revelation. "Texas?" he mused aloud, genuinely taken aback. She didn’t strike him as the typical military brat, and her background intrigued him, bringing forth a multitude of questions he was eager to explore.

"Yeah," she confirmed, a flicker of something deeper passing across her features. "Among other places, we never really stayed at one base for too long, but Fort Hood was the longest." As she spoke, the underlying sadness in her tone began to morph into a subtle flicker of anger, and Jasper quickly recognized that this was a conversation she might not be fully prepared to delve into just yet. Instinctively, he pulled back, allowing the weight of that subject to rest lightly between them.

"Your grandfather seems kind," Jasper remarked gently, hoping to redirect the conversation toward brighter grounds. "What was it that he called you?" He watched as her expression shifted, intrigued by the way her demeanor changed when she thought of them. He had remembered the loving nickname Gideon had used, yet he wondered the origin.

"Dovie," she replied, the name rolling off her tongue with a sweet softness. The mere mention of it seemed to lift her spirits, as her thoughts turned fondly to her grandparents. The anger that had briefly clouded her dissipated, replaced by a radiant fondness that lit up her face, reflecting the profound love she felt for them. "When I was a little girl, I found an injured dove stuck in a tree. Its wings were tangled in a branch, and it was clear that it needed help. I decided to climb the tree to rescue him Unfortunately, I lost my footing during the climb and fell and broke my arm.," She chuckled at the memory.

"Even though I fell I kept him safe in my hands. I nurtured him back to health until he was strong enough to fly again. My grandfather made a comment that I was a broken little dove, too. Somehow, that nickname stuck."

"That was incredibly brave of you," Jasper said, his eyes reflecting admiration as he looked at the woman in front of him. There was something profoundly kind about her, even in the face of her own suffering. "I imagine that bird must have been deeply grateful for your help."

"I think so," she replied with a soft smile, her gaze drifting off as she recalled the memory. "He stayed around for quite some time, never venturing too far from our home. It was almost as if he didn’t want to leave me. One day, though, he was gone. I like to think he flew away to a place that was warmer and safer."

"I'm sure he found just that," Jasper said, a small smile spreading across his face. He chuckled softly, captivated by her story. Her heart was remarkable; her kindness flowed effortlessly, like a natural instinct—something as essential and automatic as breathing.

Elowen tilted her head slightly, her curiosity piqued as she listened to the rich, musical quality of his laughter. "What's so funny?" she inquired, her fingers delicately picking at the fluffy, warm blueberry muffin in front of her. She took small pieces off the crown of the muffin, the tartness of the berries bursting in her mouth with each bite.

Jasper shook his head, a look of genuine amazement shimmering in his deep-set eyes. "It’s nothing really—it’s just that you’re different from most people I’ve encountered before."

She raised an eyebrow skeptically, scrutinizing him. "Different how? That sounds suspiciously like a backhanded compliment." Her tone was light, yet there was an underlying edge of challenge in her voice.

A smirk danced across Jasper’s lips, his expression a blend of amusement and intrigue. "Not at all. You’re simply… genuine. That’s a rare trait in this world." His voice carried a warmth that made her heart flutter just a bit.

Elowen shrugged nonchalantly. "You know, you’re pretty good at this whole 'charm' thing. I bet you've had a lot of practice," she muttered, her tone laced with playful sarcasm. Jasper could sense the hint of envy radiating from her, and it pleased him more than he cared to admit.

"You’d be surprised. 'Charming' isn’t exactly the word most people would use to describe me," Jasper replied, a smirk still playing at the corners of his mouth. Despite his relaxed demeanor, there was an undeniable air of intimidation surrounding him. The scars that laced his skin were not merely marks of battles past; they were a warning, a testament to his resilience. Most humans found themselves unnerved in his presence, and many vampires steered clear of him, too frightened by the raw power that seemed to emanate from him. He had faced myriad challenges and emerged victorious every time, making it quite clear that he was not someone to underestimate.

"Well, how would they describe you? And how would you describe yourself?" Elowen mused, a thoughtful expression crossing her face as she took another bite of her fresh muffin, the crumbly texture melting on her tongue.

Jasper considered her question for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. "I think most people tend to see me as quite reserved," he finally replied, his voice steady yet introspective, "but that’s not entirely accurate. I simply choose who I want to engage with." Elowen nodded in understanding as he continued, a hint of pride in his tone. "I’d describe myself as loyal and protective, especially when it comes to those I care about." He smiled, and a comfortable silence enveloped them, the kind that felt warm and soothing, like a soft embrace on a quiet afternoon.

Elowen played with the spoon in her nearly empty cup. He could feel the nervousness creeping up inside of her unsure of what to say next. Clearing his throat as if to break the spell of tranquility, Jasper shifted the topic. "So, what do you hope to do after graduating?" His curiosity was genuine, and he leaned in, eager for her dreams.

Elowen's smile widened thankful for the change in conversation, her eyes sparkling with ambition. "I want to go to college and earn my degree to become a social worker. My heart is really set on the University of Maine," she declared, a hint of determination lacing her words.

Jasper raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "That’s pretty far away, isn’t it?"

Elowen took a moment to run her fingers through her hair, a small gesture that revealed her apprehension. "Yeah, I know. It’ll be tough to leave my grandparents behind, especially considering how much they’ve always supported me," she admitted, her voice softening. "But I’ve always dreamed of going out East, and I hear Maine is absolutely stunning in the fall – all those vibrant colors."

"It truly is," Jasper agreed, his mind drifting back to his own memories.

"You’ve been there?" Elowen's eyes widened in excitement, and she leaned forward, her interest palpable.

"A few years ago," he reminisced, "my aunt—who’s also my adoptive mother—took us to visit some family who lived there." He remembered the trip fondly, a time when they had mingled with the more distant branches of their vampire family tree, who had settled in that picturesque state for a brief while over twenty years ago.

"That’s amazing," Elowen responded, her voice filled with awe. "So, you’ve got quite a big family then?"

Jasper chuckled, a light-hearted sound that filled the space between them. "Too big sometimes," he replied, the laughter easing into his words, hinting at both the chaos and warmth of familial ties. "My aunt took my sister Rosalie and me in after our parents passed away," Jasper said, his voice laced with a mixture of nostalgia.

“Oh,” Elowen said, her expression momentarily shifting to one of sympathy. “I’m so sorry to hear that. I know how painful that is,” she admitted softly, her eyes revealing the weight of her own experiences. In that moment, Jasper finally understood the source of the quiet sadness that lingered beneath the surface of her cheerful demeanor.

"Thank you, Elowen," he replied, nodding with sincerity. "It happened a long time ago, though. My Aunt Esme has been incredible—truly a wonderful guardian. However, I do worry about her getting a bit restless here. My adoptive father, Carlisle, works long hours at the hospital, and Esme has been searching for an architect's job in town without much luck. This leaves her spending most days cooped up at home while we're all at school."

Elowen's brow furrowed as she thought, then she asked, "Does she enjoy volunteering?"

"Yes, I suppose she does. Why do you ask?" Jasper inquired, curious about where this was heading.

"My grandmother is involved with the local food bank. She constantly pesters me to help out more often," Elowen explained with a soft chuckle. "Each week, she gathers a group of volunteers to prepare meals for the shelter and deliver them. I help out when I can, but with babysitting, I won't be able to help out as much. I think they could really use another pair of hands."

A bright smile illuminated Jasper's face. "She would absolutely love that!" he exclaimed, the thought clearly lifting his spirits. "I’ll make sure to pass that information along to her. Thank you so much, Elowen."

Elowen felt a warmth rise to her cheeks, appreciating the gratitude in his voice and the way her name seemed to roll so gently off his tongue. "Of course," she replied, her smile growing more radiant.

ELOWEN REED

The time flew by like a soft breeze as Elowen and Jasper settled into rich conversation Elowen animatedly shared stories about her friends, each tale colorful and full of laughter, while sprinkling in endearing anecdotes about her grandparents, whose quirks and wisdom shaped much of her childhood. Jasper listened intently, his eyes sparkling with interest, and in return, he shared his own collection of sibling stories—tales of mischievous pranks and playful antics, the kind that made family gatherings unforgettable.

As the conversation flowed, Elowen's voice softened briefly when she mentioned her parents, the shadow of loss flickering in her expression. She was careful not to delve too deeply into that painful chapter of her life, choosing instead to keep the mood light and comfortable as if saving that heavy burden for another day when she would be ready to share more.

Jasper launched into an engaging discourse about his deep love for history. He spoke about ancient civilizations and fascinating historical figures, and despite his best intentions, Elowen couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy. How could he excel at everything? His passion was infectious, and yet it was hard not to feel a slight sting as she thought of her own insecurities. Nevertheless, she smiled, appreciating the joy in their exchange, grateful for their budding connection amid the clinking of cups and murmurs of nearby patrons. Jasper animatedly recounted the story of his motorcycle, a sleek black machine he had purchased the previous year, much to the dismay of his parents. Despite this, he was proud of his decision and couldn't help but offer Elowen a ride. She immediately shook her head, her long hair swaying slightly with the motion, while her eyes darted away. His promise to ensure her safety seemed to fall flat against her desire to keep her feet planted firmly on solid ground. "I’d rather walk," she stated firmly, a hint of determination in her voice.

Jasper began to share tales of his siblings—each one a vibrant personality that complemented the others in their own unique ways. . Elowen listened intently, her heart stirring with longing as she admitted she always wished for brothers or sisters of her own. “Being an only child can be lonely,” she confessed, her tone laced with a hint of wistfulness. Yet, she quickly added, “But my best friend Lila has always filled that role for me. She's like a sister, even if we don’t share any blood.” A soft smile crept across her face as she thought of their countless adventures together.

The conversation flowed easily between them until the check arrived at their table. As Elowen reached for it, Jasper suddenly grasped her hand, his icy fingers sending a shiver up her spine. Surprised, she looked up to meet his gaze, but he quickly released her, his demeanor shifting back to casual as he handed cash to the waitress.

Elowen felt a surge of indignation at his nonchalant gesture. “You didn't have to pay,” she exclaimed, her disapproval evident.

“It’s how I was raised, sorry,” he shrugged with a smirk, but the lack of genuine apology in his tone hinted that he wasn’t truly regretful about it. b She scoffed softly, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes as she and Jasper stood up to leave the bustling café. Just as they took a few steps forward, Elowen suddenly froze, a spark of realization igniting in her mind.

“Wait, I forgot my jacket,” she exclaimed, her voice tinged with urgency. Without another moment's hesitation, she rushed back to their booth, her heart beating a little faster. She quickly retrieved her jacket, the soft fabric warm against her arms, and turned to make her way back to Jasper. But something unusual caught her eye.

There, on the table, sat Jasper's untouched coffee cup, still brimming with dark liquid. The steam had long since dissipated, but it was clear he hadn’t taken a single sip since they’d sat down. Had she truly been so captivated by their conversation that she hadn’t noticed the waitress top off his drink? Or had he genuinely not tasted it at all? A ripple of curiosity coursed through her as she pondered the implications.

“Do you have it?” Jasper’s voice broke through her thoughts, resonating softly behind her, pulling her back to the present moment.

“Yup,” she replied, holding the jacket up triumphantly, her smile brightening despite the knot of confusion in her mind. “Got it.” Jasper walked alongside her, his presence both comforting and disarming as he guided her toward the entrance and out into the crisp air.

“I had a lovely time with you, Elowen,” he remarked kindly, his gaze penetrating yet sincere as it met hers. Elowen’s heart raced under the intensity of his eyes, an unspoken connection lingering in the air. “I would love to do it again sometime.”

“Yeah,” she squeaked, her voice barely above a whisper. “That would be nice,” she added, her cheeks flushing a light pink. The moment felt charged, yet she quickly bid him goodbye and hopped into her grandfather’s truck.

As she settled into the worn seat, her grandfather turned to her, his eyebrows knitted together in concern as he studied her unusual demeanor.

“Everything okay, Dovie?” he asked, his voice thick with concern.

“Uh,” she stammered, nervously pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, the warmth in her cheeks refusing to fade. “Yeah, I think so,” she replied, though the uncertainty lingered just beneath the surface, a quiet whisper of something she couldn’t quite articulate.

Chapter Text

ELOWEN REED.

She had been so absorbed in her date with Jasper and the strange fact that he hadn't taken a single sip of his coffee at the cafe that she didn't realize Lila and Maggie were absent from the Cafe until she was settled back home. Feeling a knot of curiosity and concern form in her stomach, she glanced at the clock on her wall and noticed that she still had a good amount of time before she needed to leave for her babysitting gig. Grabbing her phone, she decided to reach out to Lila.

Elowen took a deep breath as she dialed the number she had memorized over the years, her fingers trembling slightly with anticipation. The steady sound of the phone ringing felt both familiar and nerve-wracking. Finally, a voice broke through the silence on the other end. "Hello?" It was Lila. Elowen instantly felt a wave of relief wash over her; her best friend sounded cheerful which was a good sign.

“Hey! I noticed you weren’t at Carver’s this morning,” Elowen said, trying to keep her tone light and casual, though a hint of guilt seeped through.

“Wow, it took you until…” Lila paused dramatically, “Five thirty to notice I was missing? Thank God I wasn’t kidnapped!”

Elowen groaned, rubbing her forehead in frustration at her own forgetfulness. How could she have neglected to remember such an important event? It felt so out of character for her, especially considering she and Lila were practically inseparable. Just at the cafe, she had been telling Jasper all about Lila, a tale filled with laughter and anecdotes, yet none of that reminded her that today was Lila’s big date. “I just—”

“Got wrapped up in Jasper?” Lila’s teasing tone rang through the line, and Elowen felt her cheeks flush. Of course, her friend was right—Jasper had certainly kept her distracted. Still, she wasn’t about to admit it out loud.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lila continued with a hint of amusement in her voice . “The same thing happened to us, Ellie! We hiked to the top of a mountain, and we just lost track of time while we were talking, laughing, and… making out. I didn’t even realize how late it was until I got home twenty minutes ago!”

Elowen could hardly contain her excitement. “That’s amazing, Lila!” she exclaimed, her heart swelling with happiness for her friend. The warmth in Lila’s voice reassured Elowen that everything was alright between them.

“Yeah, and...,” Lila chuckled sarcastically, her laughter infectious. “Elliot slept in. Sarah said she couldn’t wake him! Apparently, Coach really ran him hard during practice yesterday.” Lila paused  a glint of mischief in her tone. “She texted me this morning—like a good friend!”

Elowen felt a pang of guilt twist in her stomach. “I’m really sorry, Lila. I truly am. How can I make it up to you?” she asked, genuine regret coloring her words. She couldn’t help but feel that she needed to do something special for her best friend to apologize for her forgetfulness.

Lila thought for a moment before she said with a playful tone, "Hmmm, you're buying lunch for me on Monday."

"Deal," Elowen replied, a smile creeping across her face.

"Oh, and you have to tell me how things went on your date," Lila added with curiosity.

"It wasn't really a date ," she insisted, her voice taking on a whiny tone that made the statement less convincing. As she spoke, a flicker of doubt colored her words, betraying her uncertainty. She ambled over to the well-worn couch, its cushions slightly sagging from years of use, and settled herself into the plush fabric. With a practiced motion, she wedged her cell phone between her ear and shoulder, multitasking as she pulled on her ankle-high boots. Her fingers deftly worked the laces, each tug precise as she concentrated on keeping the conversation going.

"Yeah, right," her friend replied on the other end of the line, an unmistakable note of skepticism lacing her voice. "You can try to convince me, but I'm not buying it."

A sigh escaped her lips as she rolled her eyes, even though her friend couldn’t see her. “Seriously,” she insisted, her tone growing more firm. "He said it himself. He wants to be friends first," she emphasized, trying to bolster her argument and fortify her resolve against the mounting doubts in her mind.

"Come on, let’s be real. He totally wants in your pants, and you know it," she teased, playfully and even through the phone Elowen knew her best friend was wagging her eyebrows suggestively. She rolled her eyes. “So, the burning question is, are you going to let him?”

"We did have a really good time," she finally admitted, a small but undeniable smile breaking through, despite her attempts to downplay the situation.

"But?" Lila prompted, "I can sense a 'but' lurking in there."

“It’s nothing,” Elowen said dismissively, her gaze drifting away from the conversation as she tightened the laces of her well-worn shoes. Her eyes wandered to the flickering fire in the stone fireplace, the orange and yellow flames dancing playfully, casting warm shadows around the room as the wood crackled and popped.

“Tell me right now, Elowen Iris, or I swear to God—” her friend insisted, the urgency in her voice tinted with genuine concern seeking the truth behind Elowen’s evasive demeanor.

Elowen took a deep breath, the weight of her friend’s words pressing on her. “He didn’t drink his coffee,” she replied, her voice barely more than a whisper as if she was sharing a closely guarded secret that felt too heavy to spill. Her fingers fidgeted nervously with the hem of her shirt.

“Okay? Is that it?” her friend asked skepticism coloring her words.

“Well, yeah, I mean…” Elowen hesitated, searching for the right words.

“Maybe he just doesn’t like coffee,” her friend suggested, as she challenged the idea. Elowen ran her fingers through her hair.

“Then why wouldn’t he order something else?” Elowen countered, frustration creeping into her voice. It was strange , why would he order something he wasn't going to drink it? Why wouldn't he simply get water?

“Maybe he was just trying to look cool in front of you or something . You know how guys can be. Maybe he likes lavender tea and didn’t want to seem lame,” her friend pointed out with a chuckle at the idea of a tough-looking guy like Jasper holding a tiny teacup in his hands.

“ I like lavender tea,” Elowen replied, a small smile breaking through her earlier annoyance.

“Exactly,” her friend retorted. "See, lame."

“Hey!” Elowen exclaimed, a light blush creeping over her cheeks.

“You're just scared and searching for excuses not to like him, El,” her friend insisted gently, sensing Elowen's hesitation. She knew all too well how cautious Elowen was with new people, particularly when it came to matters of the heart. Elowen's fear of vulnerability often held her back, making her wary of opening up.

“Maybe you’re right,” Elowen admitted the corners of her lips lifting ever so slightly as she absentmindedly twirled a strand of her hair around her finger. The warmth from her friend's words began to chip away at the walls she had built around herself.

“Of course I am,” her friend replied, clearly reveling in this moment of triumph. She felt a spark of hope, believing that perhaps Elowen would finally allow herself to embrace the possibility of love, no longer letting her fears dictate her feelings.

“Alright, well, I’ve got to get going , I'm babysitting for the Uleys,” Elowen said, glancing at the clock on the wall, its hands creeping toward the hour that marked the start of her evening shift. She felt a mix of anticipation and responsibility as she mentally prepared for the night ahead, wondering if the Uley kids would be in a playful mood. Standing up from the plush, textured couch, she snatched her favorite jacket—a soft, worn denim piece that had seen many adventures—and slipped it over her arms.

“Ew, okay, have fun! Love you, bye!” her friend replied with a teasing lilt, the playful sarcasm clear in her tone, a familiar sound that always made Elowen chuckle.

“ Love you too, bye," Elowen responded, a warm smile spreading across her face as she hung up the phone. As she walked to the door, she took a moment to gather her things. Thankful that her grandmother had given her permission to use her car to get to the reservation.

"Nana! Papa! I'm leaving!" Elowens' voice echoed through the house, bouncing off the walls in the quietness of the early morning. She peered around, uncertain of her grandparents' whereabouts, when suddenly, as if her call had summoned them, they appeared at the top of the staircase.

"Drive safe, Dovie," Lucille said warmly, her arms enveloping her in a tight hug that felt like home. The sweet scent of her grandmother's lavender perfume filled her senses. As she pulled back, her grandfather, with a gentle smile, leaned in and whispered, "I love you, sweetheart." The sincerity behind his words wrapped around her heart as she nodded in response, her own smile lighting up her face.

With a mix of excitement and anxiousness, Elowen stepped out into the cool, rhythmic patter of the rain. Tiny droplets drenched her hair as she dashed across the yard to her grandmother's old sedan, its paint a faded blue . She slid into the driver's seat, the familiar smell of leather and the scent of rain on the pavement surrounding her. With practiced ease, she inserted the key into the ignition, listening to the engine sputter to life. As she let it warm up, she gazed out the windshield, watching rain dribble down the glass like tiny rivers.

Once the engine hummed steadily, she pulled out onto the street, the tires gripping the wet pavement as she navigated the familiar roads. The misty windows and swirling fog blurred her vision but allowed her mind to wander freely in the quiet solitude of the drive. With each turn, she replayed the events of the past week , her thoughts revolving around Jasper, the intriguing boy who had inexplicably captured her attention.

Maybe Lila was right; perhaps she was merely overthinking everything, desperately sifting through the layers of her emotions for reasons to keep him at a distance. But was it genuine fear gnawing at her heart? Perhaps it was, but as she reflected, she pondered more deeply—Jasper didn't exude cruelty. In every interaction, there was a warmth, a kindness that enveloped her like a cozy blanket. Whenever he was close, a wave of safety washed over her, a feeling she had seldom encountered.

It was this sense of comfort that made her uneasy. Elowen was someone who took her time opening up to new people, meticulously erecting walls to protect her heart. Yet, here was Jasper, effortlessly worming his way past those barriers in just a single week, leaving her bewildered and frustrated. The unexpectedness of it all confused her, swirling like the rain around her car, challenging her to reflect on what it truly meant to let someone in.

Perhaps her past was finally catching up to her, a relentless shadow that loomed over her even after years of therapy aimed at untangling the complex web of her trauma. Each session had chipped away at the surface, revealing deep emotional scars that seemed to whisper to her, reminding her of a painful truth: she wasn’t just wounded; she felt irrevocably broken. This lingering sense of damage clouded her perception of self-worth, looming like a specter that made her hesitant to embrace the joys and opportunities that life offered .

Despite her bright and cheerful demeanor—a mask that she wore so effortlessly—deep down, she battled the haunting belief that she was “damaged goods.” This fear perhaps explained why she had remained in her relationship with Alex for far longer than she should have. She had clung to him as if he were a lifebuoy in a stormy sea, convinced that what she had with him was the best she could hope for. Time and again, she recalled the phrase that had been echoed to her in therapy: “You accept the love you think you deserve.” It resonated within her like a haunting melody, and maybe, just maybe, it affirmed everything she felt about herself—was this unfulfilling relationship indicative of her own sense of worth?

No. She firmly shook off those lingering thoughts that had plagued her for far too long. That wasn't who she was anymore. The breakup with Alex had been a pivotal moment of clarity; it had opened her eyes to a simple truth—she deserved better than the empty promises and fleeting affections he offered. Her grandparents had instilled in her an undeniable belief in self-worth the moment she moved in with them. Their relentless support and the love they showered upon her created a foundation of resilience she had once thought was unattainable.

Recognizing the pain she had endured, they sought to guide her through it with therapy. She had learned to confront her past, processing the wounds that had been there too long. While those wounds had formed into scars, they were no longer raw; they had begun to tell a story of survival, of healing. She now understood that she deserved kindness, honesty, and a sense of security that had long evaded her.

As her thoughts drifted, she gradually accepted the undeniable truth: Jasper Hale was genuinely interested in her. The realization sparked a mix of nervous excitement and invigorating anticipation.

Pulling into the Uley household driveway, she took a deep breath, her heart racing with a cocktail of emotions. She focused on the clarity she had found in her decision and cemented her resolve. Yes, she was going to embrace this situation for what it was: a chance at something real, something beautiful. Jasper Hale was interested in her, and she was equally intrigued by him. Today marked a new chapter, one filled with possibilities.

“Ellie!!” A chorus of high-pitched, excited voices rang out from the porch, where two small figures huddled together, sheltered from the downpour under the protective overhang. Elowen's heart warmed at the sight of the two little boys, their bright eyes sparkling with eagerness as they called out to her. With a smile spreading across her face, she fumbled for the key to the car and swiftly stepped out into the rain, laughing as the droplets splashed around her.

As soon as she reached the porch, the boys' tiny bodies sprang forward, attaching themselves to her legs like little barnacles. Elowen laughed, kneeling down to embrace them, feeling the familiar warmth and comfort of their hugs. She reveled in the softness of their round, chubby faces as they leaned into her, their giggles mixing with the sound of the rain.

“Hey, kiddos!” she exclaimed, taking a moment to take in the sheer joy radiating from them. Their matching outfits and tousled hair made them all the more endearing.

Suddenly, Winona Uley appeared at the door, her expression a mix of relief and frustration as she caught sight of Elowen. “ Oh Elowen, thank goodness you’re here!” Winona greeted, her voice filled with gratitude. The young mother had an unmistakable beauty, her deep, rich skin glowing even in the gloomy weather, and her long, shiny black hair cascading down her shoulders. It was easy to see how her children had inherited her striking features.

“I’m so sorry, but I have to head out now! I thought they wanted me in at six thirty, but I misread the schedule—it's actually six!” Winona rushed through her explanation, her eyes darting to the two boys still clinging to Elowen, who looked up at her with innocent anticipation.

“Oh no,” Elowen gasped, her eyes widened in surprise. “You need to go! I’ll handle everything here!”

“Thank you so much, Elowen! Your money is on the counter, and Leah will be here at nine to take over for you!” Winona hurriedly instructed, her voice a blend of urgency and appreciation as she knelt to hug and kiss her boys goodbye. They clung to her tightly, not wanting her to leave, but Winona coaxed them with promises of fun tomorrow.

With a final wave, Winona dashed toward her car, the tires kicking up water as she peeled down the driveway, leaving Elowen alone with the twins.

A chuckle escaped Elowen's lips as she watched the boys looking up at her, eyes wide with excitement. “Should we head inside?” she asked, her voice brightening the atmosphere. They both chorused their enthusiastic approvals, and together they stepped into the warmth of the home, the comforting scent of familiar surroundings embracing them as the rain continued to patter softly against the roof.

The evening was filled with laughter and creativity as they built elaborate structures with colorful Legos, each block snapping into place with satisfying clicks. Action figures fought courageous battles against imaginary foes. Later, chaos erupted during an unruly game of Monopoly, where the sounds of negotiation turned into spirited arguments, the game dragging on for what felt like an eternity.

To break the tension, they enjoyed a delightful dance party, jumping around the living room to an array of silly kids' songs, their giggles echoing off the walls. The clock ticked closer to eight-thirty when Elowen discreetly snuck the boys a sweet treat—a small stash of homemade cookies, still warm and gooey, that made their eyes light up with joy.

With their teeth freshly brushed and cozy pajamas snuggled around them, Elowen gathered them close for a bedtime story. She opened a beautifully illustrated book about a little mouse with big dreams who desperately wanted a cookie. As her voice animated the tale, the boys nestled under their blankets, drifting off to sleep with visions of adventures in cookie land dancing in their heads.

Elowen found herself nestled comfortably on the well-worn couch, the soft fabric molding to her body as she half-heartedly watched a pointless reality TV show flickering on the screen. The bright colors and loud personalities provided little entertainment, but she was too absorbed in her thoughts to change the channel. Suddenly, the front door swung open with a creak, and a familiar voice broke through the monotony of the room.

"Hey, Reed!" Leah Clearwater’s voice rang out, filled with an infectious excitement that instantly lifted Elowen’s spirits.

"Hey, Leah!" Elowen replied, her face lighting up as the older girl plopped down beside her on the couch, their familiar spot. Leah, with her striking features and animated demeanor, was a year older than Elowen, yet their bond was one of genuine friendship that transcended age. Their connection was rooted in their families; Elowen’s grandfather and Leah’s dad had been good friends for years, which brought frequent visits and gatherings for football games and summer barbecues, forever intertwining their lives.

As children, they had filled long afternoons sneaking out to play with Barbies in imaginative scenarios, crafting elaborate tales that seemed to stretch on forever. But as they transitioned into their teenage years, their escapades evolved into late-night adventures that danced on the edge of parental boundaries—activities that were thrilling but, at times, veered into trouble.

However, it had been some time since Elowen last saw Leah. The girl had been consumed by her relationship with Sam Uley, a charismatic young man whose magnetic presence seemed to monopolize Leah's attention. Elowen understood all too well; she had experienced the same immersion when she started dating Alex. And while Leah appeared blissfully happy with Sam, Elowen didn’t want to jeopardize their friendship by voicing her frustrations over their dwindling time together.

It was a comforting thought however that Leah was the type of friend who could slip into and out of Elowen’s life without any sense of distance changing the dynamic. Months could pass, but when they reunited, it felt as though no time had gone by at all —like a favorite book that never lost its place, always waiting to be picked up again.

"The boys already asleep?" Leah asked, her voice laced with surprise, a tone she had adopted every single time she witnessed Elowen's knack for getting the children to bed. Her eyes widened in astonishment, reflecting her admiration. "I just don’t understand how you do it. You're like a child whisperer! I think even Winona struggles to get them to settle down for the night," Leah added, shaking her head in disbelief, unable to fathom how Elowen made the nightly routine seem so simple.

Elowen shrugged lightly, a warm smile playing on her lips. She had always held a deep affection for children, feeling a natural affinity for their cheerful spirits and boundless energy. Over the years, she discovered that she had a talent for negotiating with them, understanding their little minds, and coaxing them into cooperating. In her heart, she often dreamt of the day when she would have her own children, imagining herself as a nurturing, loving mother—a role she was eager to embrace. The thought of it made her giddy with anticipation.

"Where's Sam?" Elowen wondered aloud, glancing around the cozy living room strewn with toys and a few scattered cushions. Considering that the boys were his nephews, it was usually he who came to relieve her of her babysitting duties.

"He had to work late," Leah explained, her lips pulling into a slight frown that hinted at her concern. The weight of her words sat heavily in the air between them.

"Everything okay?" Elowen asked gently, noticing how Leah's expression darkened as if a shadow had passed over her features. She could sense that something was troubling her friend, and her heart ached at the thought.

"Yeah, I mean… maybe," Leah replied, shaking her head slowly in frustration, her brow furrowing further. "I don’t know. How much time do you have?” There was an edge of desperation in her voice , the kind that made Elowen pause.

Elowen thought for a moment , feeling the exhaustion seep into her bones after a long and demanding day. She longed for the comfort of her home, where she could collapse into her bed and leave the world behind, if only for a few hours. But Leah's need was discernible, a silent plea for support that tugged at her heart.

“As long as you need,” Elowen finally said, her voice steady despite her fatigue. She shifted closer to Leah.

Chapter Text

ELOWEN REED

As October began to draw to a close, Jasper Hale had seamlessly woven himself into the fabric of Elowen's life in ways she had never truly expected. His sharp sense of humor combined with an air of calmness left her feeling at ease, and it dawned on her that he had become a genuine friend. They had developed their own unique rhythm—exchanging knowing glances across the bustling cafeteria, sharing playful jabs about Mr. Varner’s comically outdated wardrobe, and engaging in conversations that touched on hints of his deeper self, fostering a sense of intimacy that made her feel connected to him, even without fully understanding his complexities.

What had initially started as light-hearted conversations during math class soon blossomed into a more profound connection. Their library tutoring sessions transformed into cherished moments filled with laughter and collaborative problem-solving. Long walks home after school took on a new dimension as they discovered shared interests and life experiences, often resulting in fits of laughter over inside jokes that felt entirely theirs.

Jasper Hale wasn’t merely the striking boy who occupied the seat next to her in class; he had evolved into someone she genuinely looked forward to seeing each day. His presence brought a warmth to her life that she cherished, making the school days feel lighter and more enjoyable. Each moment they spent together added layers to her feelings, weaving a tapestry of friendship that left her feeling happier than she had in a long time.

Elowen finally took the leap to introduce Jasper to her circle of friends, and the moment felt electric. Her friends gathered around, captivated by Jasper's charisma as he spoke. Lila, with her quick wit and love for spirited discussions, was particularly drawn to him. They engaged in numerous lively debates about philosophy. Elowen enjoyed watching their intellectual chemistry spark, but there was a small part of her that felt a twinge of protectiveness toward Jasper as she observed their dynamic.

On the other hand, Danny, her most judgemental friend, approached the situation with skepticism. His brows knitted together as he observed Jasper closely as if trying to decipher some hidden motive. In a hushed tone, Danny warned Elowen about the negative feelings he sensed from Jasper, stressing how he felt something was off. Elowen rolled her eyes at his concern, convinced that Danny was simply being his usual overprotective self, always ready to criticize, especially when it came to her choices in male friends.

Meanwhile, Elowen was navigating her own social landscape in the classroom. She had started openly conversing with Alice, a girl who seemed to fill every silence with her chatter. Initially, Elowen had kept her distance, wary of Alice's exuberance. However, as the days passed, she found herself slowly warming up to her infectious enthusiasm. Alice’s excitement about everything—from their lessons to the tiniest details of life—slowly peeled back Elowen’s reservations, allowing her to appreciate the joy that came with such unabashed enthusiasm. She had started to see the little pixie-haired girl as a friend too.

Despite Lila's generous offer for a ride home every day after school, Elowen had found herself increasingly drawn to walking alongside Jasper on those blissful afternoons when the rain held off. It was Jasper who had suggested the idea the week after their awkwardly charming 'not date' at Carver's, his invitation laced with a warmth that made her heart flutter. Though a pang of guilt washed over her at the thought of Jasper missing out on a ride home with his siblings, Elowen couldn't bring herself to decline his proposal. The mere idea of spending more time in his presence filled her with a bubbling excitement.

As he had assured her, he didn’t live too far from her, and he genuinely wanted to accompany her home. This small gesture felt significant, as if he too craved the opportunity to share those stolen moments together outside the bustling classroom. Each step they took together felt like an unspoken affirmation of their growing connection. Today was just another ordinary day, but to Elowen, every walk with Jasper felt extraordinary.

The air was crisp, carrying with it the earthy scent of wet leaves that crunched underfoot as Elowen and Jasper strolled through the town. A blanket of gray clouds loomed overhead, casting a muted light that made the town seem even smaller than usual. As they walked along Main Street, pumpkins adorned the porches, their carved faces flickering with the warm glow of candlelight. Each storefront was festively decorated with drawings of candy corn and strands of fake cobwebs draping from the windows.

Elowen's heart swelled with fondness for Halloween; it had always been her favorite holiday. The thrill of dressing up in costumes, the excitement of attending lively parties, and, of course, the joy of collecting candy—it all filled her with warmth.

As they passed a particularly elaborate display of skeletons and bats, she couldn’t help but gush about the creativity around them. Turning her gaze upward, she met Jasper's eyes, straining her neck a little to catch his twinkling gaze. "Let me guess—you're not the Halloween type?" she teased playfully, nudging his arm with her elbow, a jovial smile dancing across her lips as she awaited his reply.

He chuckled softly, a warm, playful sound escaping his lips. "Not exactly," he murmured, his gaze drifting down to the petite redhead walking beside him. Her fiery hair caught the afternoon light, creating a halo of warmth around her that contrasted with the cool breeze that rustled the leaves overhead.

"Boo," she pouted, her lips forming a cute frown as she concentrated on trying to readjust her backpack. It was slightly too big for her slender frame, making it cumbersome. Just as she was about to shift it again, she felt a presence behind her. With a swift motion, Jasper reached out and effortlessly removed the backpack from her shoulders, cradling it in his strong hands.

She rolled her eyes at his familiar overprotectiveness, knowing from experience that any objections she made would be met with gentle resistance. It was a topic they’d covered many times—her insistence on carrying her things and his steadfast refusal to allow her to bear that burden. “So, does that mean you’re not going to dress up for Halloween tomorrow?” she asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

“It’s unlikely,” he replied, shaking his head slightly, hair falling across his forehead in a casual yet charming manner. “What would I even be?” he mused, a teasing sparkle igniting in his darkened eyes. For a moment, she was captivated by him, her thoughts drifting as she wondered about his striking gaze. Over the past two months of their blossoming friendship, she’d observed something intriguing about his eyes. Depending on the day, they shifted colors—sometimes a vibrant gold that reminded her of sunlit honey, full of warmth and vibrancy; other times, they dimmed to a deep, mysterious shade, resembling the night sky, filled with shadows and secrets waiting to be uncovered. It was bizarre, she'd never seen eyes that shifted so dramatically.

Caught in her thoughts, she watched him for a moment longer, appreciating the subtle interplay of light in his irises, while the world around them faded into the background.

“Hmmm, how about a bumblebee?” Elowen suggested, her face lighting up with an infectious grin that seemed to illuminate the space around them.

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly as amusement danced in his eyes. “A bit too childish for my taste,” he responded with a playful laugh, the sound echoing in the afternoon air.

Elowen tilted her head in mock contemplation, her hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders. “Okay, how about a football player?” she proposed, her enthusiasm unwavering.

“I actually prefer baseball over football,” he replied coolly, his tone casual as he observed her deep in thought.

After a moment of silence, Elowen’s eyes brightened as an idea struck her. With a sudden burst of energy, she hopped up on her feet, clapping her hands together in delight. “Oh! I got it! What about a vampire?” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement and mischief.

Jasper paused, raising an eyebrow as a playful smile crept onto his lips. He let out a hearty, genuine laugh. “What?” she asked, her curiosity piqued by his reaction.

He shook his head, still chuckling, and finally managed to reply, “It’s too cliché,” he said between fits of laughter.

A playful pout formed on Elowen’s lips as she threw her hands up in dramatic defeat, momentarily surrendering to the lighthearted banter between them. "Fine, fine."

"What will you be dressing up as?" He asked curious.

"It's a surprise," She wagged her eyebrows in excitement. "You'll see tomorrow."

JASPER HALE.

For the first time since enduring the agonizing transformation that had reshaped his existence, Jasper Hale felt an overwhelming sense of joy in being alive. Each morning ushered in a rush of excitement that electrified his very core, infusing his days with a warmth he had long thought lost. He found himself actually looking forward to the mundane routine of high school—not for the classes or the tedious assignments, but because it meant more precious moments with Elowen.

Over the past two months, their bond had deepened in ways he had never anticipated. They shared laughter that felt like music, and conversations that flowed effortlessly. Elowen was not only beautiful, with her radiant smile and sparkling eyes that seemed to hold a universe of warmth, but she was also a beacon of kindness and compassion. Her bright spirit illuminated every room she entered, lifting the hearts of those around her.

Jasper often caught himself marveling at how fortunate he was to have a mate as exceptional as her. It was as if the stars had aligned just right, bringing them together in this chaotic world. With each passing day, he relished in the simplicity of their time together, knowing that every moment was a treasure he never wanted to take for granted. Eternity by her side wouldn't be enough.

The classroom was filled to the brim with students who had eagerly donned a plethora of costumes. Some transformed into whimsical monsters, complete with tattered capes and wild, oversized claws that gave them a fearsome allure. Others sparkled like enchanted princesses, their gowns shimmering under the classroom lights with every twirl. Amidst this festive atmosphere, Jasper sat at the back, fighting the urge to groan. While the laughter and excitement of the holiday filled the air, his own appreciation felt muted; after all, he lived the life of a creature of the night every single day. But, Elowen loved it, as she had so adamantly been telling him all month.

Elowen animatedly shared with Jasper her cherished memories of crafting her own costumes each year, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm as she described the intricate designs she had painstakingly sewn together. She reminisced about her childhood escapades, recalling the nights she and her friends would happily dart from house to house, filling their pillowcases to the brim with an assortment of sugary treats—chocolate bars and gummy candies.

She described the peculiar old lady who lived on the corner of their street, a figure draped in mystery and whimsy. Every Halloween, while most kids avoided her porch, as she handed out apples rather than candy, Elowen always made sure to stop by. The woman, known for her eccentric generosity, would always greet her with a warm smile and a glint of mischief in her eye. This year, she had even taken note of Elowen’s favorite, Granny Smith apples, and had decided to stock up on them, much to Elowen’s delight.

Though Jasper harbored little enthusiasm for Halloween himself, he couldn’t ignore the joy that painted Elowen's face as she shared her stories. He found himself unexpectedly looking forward to the evening, curious about what surprise costume she was planning to unveil. The thought of seeing her creativity come to life filled him with anticipation, a feeling he hadn’t expected to experience amidst the typical hustle that came with the holiday.

He waited with bated breath, his gaze fixed intently on the doorway, yearning for her entrance. Jasper had been on the lookout for Elowen all day, his anticipation growing with each passing minute. Yet, despite his eagerness, she had managed to elude him, slipping through the corridors of the school like a wisp of smoke. To be fair, he had noticed that none of Elowen's friends had shown up either, which sparked a flicker of concern in his mind.

For a fleeting moment, doubt crept in—what if she had decided to ditch school today? But he quickly dismissed the thought; Elowen had been buzzing with excitement about revealing her costume, and it was unlikely she would forgo the opportunity to show it off. As he anxiously tapped his fingers against the cool surface of the desk, he felt a knot tighten in his stomach. What if something had happened to her? What if she was hurt or stuck somewhere?

Lost in a spiral of worry and what-ifs, his heart raced until the moment finally arrived. The door creaked open, and there she was.

Elowen entered like a burst of color into an otherwise mundane day. Her vibrant red hair cascaded straight down her back, shimmering under the fluorescent lights, with a playful flip at the ends giving it a lively bounce. Atop her head, a purple headband sat snugly, framing her beaming face. Around her neck, a lime green scarf added a splash of brightness, contrasting beautifully with her outfit. Her light purple dress clung modestly to her form, exuding a whimsical charm that perfectly matched her personality.

Her feet were adorned with striking white gogo boots that clicked sharply against the tiled floor as she walked, amplifying the excitement in the air with every step. Jasper’s heart swelled with relief and admiration as he took in the sight of her, the worries of the day dissipating like fog in the morning sun.

"Well zoinks, Daphne," Jasper drawled playfully, his voice smooth and teasing as Elowen approached him. A soft blush crept across her cheeks, enhancing the warmth of her complexion, as a shy smile blossomed on her lips in response to his words. "You look absolutely beautiful," he remarked, his gaze lingering on her as if he were gazing in awe at the moon illuminating a starry sky.

Elowen's smile widened as she took her seat beside him. "Thank you," she replied, her voice soft yet filled with gratitude. As she settled in, she glanced around at her friends, her excitement bubbling over. "It’s a group costume theme we've organized. I'm dressed as Daphne, Danny is playing Fred, Lila is portraying Velma, Elliot is Shaggy, Sarah is our Scooby-Doo, and Anna is the ghost we're supposed to be hunting down."

"That's impressively organized," Jasper complimented, genuine admiration lacing his tone. He raised one perfectly sculpted eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "I assume that was primarily your doing?"

Elowen felt a flutter of nervous energy and shyly averted her gaze, finding the table's surface suddenly more interesting. "Maybe," she mumbled, her voice barely audible as she pulled out her notebook, the smooth cover slightly worn from use and began to prepare for class. She shot him a pointed look, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "But I wouldn't call it my secret talent. I mean, I didn’t manage to get everyone organized without a hitch," she added with a hint of a playful challenge looking at him intently.

A smirk spread across Jasper's face, his confidence unwavering. "I wouldn’t be so sure of that," he replied thoughtfully, before turning his back to her for a moment. He fished out a pair of playful, fake rubber vampire teeth from his bag, slipping them into his mouth with a mischievous grin. When he turned back around, his smile was infectious, and the transformation sparked something within Elowen.

The reaction was instantaneous; her emotions surged forth like a volcano erupting, bursting with happiness, excitement, and a sense of adoration that enveloped her every thought. It was electric, and Jasper found himself captivated by the depth of her feelings, feeling as if he wanted to drown in the waves of her vibrant emotions.

"You dressed up," she exclaimed, her voice laced with awe as her eyes sparkled with emotion, catching the light in a way that made them seem almost alive.

"Just for you," he replied, a teasing smile playing on his lips. The moment hung in the air, thick with unspoken words and shared feelings, until suddenly, she froze, her breath caught in her throat.

She stared at him, and in that instant, it was as if something monumental clicked inside her—a realization that sent ripples through her very being. A wave of emotions washed over her, each one crashing into the next in a beautiful chaos that he could hardly comprehend. Joy, surprise, vulnerability, and something deeper entwined so tightly that extracting just one felt impossible, like searching for a needle in a vast, sprawling haystack.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible, yet filled with a weight of meaning that transcended the simple words. Just then, the air shifted as Mr. Varner called for the students' attention, shattering their intense eye contact and drawing them back into the world around them.

Jasper found it hard to tear his gaze away from her face, captivated by the myriad of emotions that danced across her features. With Mr. Varner's persistent calls echoing in the background, however, he knew he had no choice but to depart from this moment. His curiosity about her thoughts was overwhelming; he yearned to delve deep into her mind, to explore the complexities of her emotions that seemed to envelop her like a thick fog. What secrets lay behind those eyes? What stories waited to be told? But alas, all of this would have to be put on hold until after the trigonometry lesson, a necessary pause in an afternoon that had stirred his undead heart so profoundly.

ELOWEN REED

Elowen trudged her way home, each step met with a biting gust of wind that sent shivers racing down her spine. The chill clung to her like an unwelcome shadow, a reminder of her decision to don the short purple dress without so much as a pair of leggings or tights underneath. Now, as the frigid air whipped around her, she felt a pang of regret—if only she had thought to layer up or grab a warm jacket before heading out. She crossed her arms tightly against her chest, attempting to trap warmth within and stave off the icy tendrils that threatened to steal her heat.

Just as she bit her lip to suppress a gloomy thought, Jasper appeared beside her like a knight in shining armor. “Here,” he said, his voice warm and reassuring despite the cold. Before Elowen could fully register his words, he was already sliding off his jacket. The action was so quick and instinctual that it caught her off guard.

“No, no, it’s okay!” Elowen exclaimed, not wanting to impose. But her protest was met with unwavering determination, as Jasper deftly draped his jacket around her shoulders. The fabric enveloped her, and she inhaled deeply, drawing in the rich, inviting scent of cedarwood mixed with a hint of something undeniably sweet—perhaps a lingering trace of his cologne. The cloak of material wrapped around her like a protective barrier, and for a moment, she felt a flicker of warmth seep into her skin.

However, as she settled into the jacket, she quickly realized that it didn't radiate the warmth she had anticipated. In fact, the fibers felt surprisingly cool against her skin, as if Jasper had just retrieved the coat from the depths of his closet rather than wearing it throughout the day. It was a curious contrast, leaving her feeling both comforted by his gesture yet slightly disappointed that the fabric failed to offer the warmth she desperately needed against the bitter chill.

"Should have chosen to be Scooby," Jasper remarked with a playful grin as they turned the corner and approached Elowen's charming brick house. The afternoon air was cold, but the warmth of their laughter created a cozy atmosphere between them. "That fur coat looked terribly warm," he chuckled, glancing at her with a teasing light in his eyes.

Elowen laughed lightly, running her fingers through her vibrant red hair that shimmered under the porch light. "That would have been nice, but you know..." She gestured to her hair with a mock sigh, "Red hair. Which means I'm typecast," she added with a playful roll of her eyes, the humor in her voice making it clear that she wasn't truly bothered by it.

Jasper smiled, a genuine admiration reflecting in his expression. "Well, you pull it off beautifully," he complimented, his tone warm and sincere as he took a moment to appreciate her vibrant features.

Suddenly, Elowen shifted the topic, her voice rising an entire octave filled with a hint of urgency. "Are you sure you don't want to come to the party tonight?” She looked into his deep, dark eyes, her heart racing as she felt a flicker of hope. Just early in the day, the amber flecks in his eyes had danced with playful mischief, but now they appeared nearly black, hinting at an intensity that took her breath away.

"I have plans with my family," Jasper replied coolly, his tone detached yet layered with something unspoken. For a fleeting moment, Elowen thought she detected a glimmer of regret flicker across his face, a hint that perhaps he wished he could join her. She had been trying to persuade him to join her for the Halloween party all weekend—after all, it was set to be an extravagant affair. Every year, one of the seniors threw a massive bash to celebrate the holiday, and this year it was Maggie who was turning her home into a haunted wonderland.

Lila had practically forced Elowen’s hand, insisting that attendance was non-negotiable. Not that Elowen was opposed; the prospect of a night filled with costumes, laughter, and the thrill of mischief was enticing. Her grandparents had left town on a trip and wouldn't return until the following Wednesday, which meant that for a few nights, she had the freedom to indulge in whatever she wished for.

She pouted playfully, trying to hide her disappointment. "Well, okay. You'll be missed."

"Just be safe, Elowen," Jasper urged his gaze piercing as he looked down into her eyes, his voice thick with concern. "Please call me if you need anything, okay?"

Elowen felt her heart quicken, breathless as she processed the intensity of his look coupled with the sheer weight of his words. There was a sincerity in his demeanor that stirred something deep within her. With a soft smile breaking across her face, she nodded in agreement and bid him goodbye, turning to enter the house.

The moment the door clicked shut behind her, reality struck—she was still wearing his jacket. Quickly, she swung the door open again, intending to return it to him; surely he could use it to ward off the chill during his walk home. However, when she peered out into the street, an uncomfortable rush of disappointment washed over her—he was nowhere to be found.

With a sense of urgency, she stepped out onto the porch and scanned both ends of the street, her heart fluttering as she searched for any sign of him. Yet the only thing greeting her was the crisp autumn air and the rustle of leaves. He was gone.

Chapter Text

ELOWEN REED

"Dude, you look so hot," Lila purred as she sat on the edge of the bed, a mischievous smile playing on her lips as she watched her best friend transform before her eyes. The innocent Daphne costume, with its light colors and playful vibe, had been discarded in favor of a stunning Little Red Riding Hood ensemble. The new outfit featured a tight-fitting corset that accentuated her curves beautifully, paired with a flowing long skirt that boasted an alluring slit that revealed just a hint of leg with every movement.

Lila had dedicated an entire hour to perfecting her look, meticulously curling Elowens long hair into cascading waves that framed her face gracefully. The transformation extended beyond her hairstyle; she had chosen a makeup palette that strayed from her typical soft tones, opting instead for darker, more dramatic shades. Her eyeliner was bold and winged, and her lips were painted a deep crimson that complemented the costume.

Elowen had also helped Lila get ready, but her Velma costume was long forgotten as she changed into the vision of a cop. The outfit, complete with a fitted cap and shiny badge, was both stylish and bold, a stark contrast to their school attire. They both knew that if they dared to wear these eye-catching costumes at school, they would almost certainly face the scrutiny of the dress code enforcers. However, the upcoming party was a different story altogether; there, among the pulsating lights and excited chatter of their peers, they would seamlessly blend in, catching the eye of everyone around them.

"We do look good," Elowen complimented as she took a sip of her mixed drink with a grimace. Lila had managed to steal a bottle of rum from her parents when they weren't looking so the girls decided to indulge as they got ready at Elowen's house.

"So, my mom thinks I'm staying here with you tonight," Lila announced, her voice a mix of excitement and anxiety. It was the fourth time she walked Elowen through the plan that had been set for weeks now. Lila would tell her parents that she was spending a night in at Elowens because her grandparents were out of town and she didn't want to be alone. They had regaled Lila's parents about their plans to watch scary movies all night and to eat their weight in candy.

"Yes, yes, you'll actually be spending the night with Maggie," Elowen teased, her bright eyes dancing with mischief as she waggled her eyebrows playfully at her best friend. Lila felt a warmth creep into her cheeks. Lila and Maggie's relationship had blossomed beautifully, and tonight seemed like it could be something truly special. Elowen was firmly in her corner, cheering her on.

"What if..." Lila's voice trailed off, uncertainty creeping into her words. "What if I'm not... you know, good at it?" The vulnerability in her tone made it clear that beneath her bravado lay a flutter of nerves and fear of the unknown.

"At what? Sex?"

"Yes!" Lila cried mortified as she collapsed into the bed, her face buried into Elowens pillow. The read head laughed merrily at her best friends antics. "Stop it! It's not funny."

Elowen chuckled softly, her infectious giggle filling the air with a lightness that was hard to ignore. Yet, the serious expression etched on Lila’s face brought her laughter to a gentle halt. Sensing her friend's anxiety, Elowen leaned in closer, intertwined her fingers with Lila’s, and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Hey, it’ll be okay," she said, her voice steady and comforting. "If things get a little awkward, that’s totally fine—just laugh it off. It doesn’t have to be a perfectly romantic moment with candlelight and classical music playing in the background. It’s supposed to be fun! Just focus on listening to her, and remember, she’ll listen to you, too.”

Elowen met Lila's gaze, searching the depths of her friend’s warm brown eyes for any trace of confidence. Lila nodded slowly, her apprehension gradually easing, although doubt still lingered in her expression. Elowen wasn’t an expert in sexual relations; her own experiences were fairly limited. She had, however, shared a passionate relationship with Alex, a whirlwind of emotions that swept her off her feet and ultimately left a memorable mark on her heart. Their breakup had nothing to do with the physical side of their connection. As she reflected on this, she hoped her words would help Lila find the courage she needed to embrace whatever lay ahead.

"Thank Ellie," she said with a warm smile.

"You're welcome!" she replied cheerfully, jumping up from the comfortable bed where she had been lounging. "Let’s take a shot before Elliot comes to get us! It’ll be fun!" She grinned, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she headed towards the small table where the bottle sat waiting. She filled the small shot glasses to the brim and handed one to Lila, then raised them in the air.

"To a fun night, we'll never forget," She toasted before she tossed the alcohol into her mouth feeling the burning sensation rush down her throat making her stomach feel warm and her head feel light. It was going to be a good night, she just had a feeling.

JASPER HALE

He heaved the weight of the mountain lion off his lap, the creature's fur sticky, while his own lips were smeared with a thick, crimson coating of blood. It wasn’t just any blood; it was the seventh kill he had made that night, an exhilarating conquest that came alongside the few elk he had managed to snatch earlier. His stomach twisted with hunger, a gnawing ache that deepened with each passing hour. His throat was still burning horrifically, he needed more. The fire was overtaking him, making him insatiable.

He was dancing perilously close to danger, threading the needle as he intentionally pushed his hunting expeditions further each night. Each time he chose hunger over hunting, his family's protests echoed in his mind like a haunting refrain. Yet, every moment away from Elowen felt like an eternity too long. The allure of her presence was intoxicating; her soothing scent lingered in his memories like a cherished perfume. Her laughter rang in his ears like the sweetest melody, capable of easing his darkest thoughts and filling him with light.

He longed for those moments shared with her, each one a precious treasure. To experience the world through her eyes brought clarity and joy that he craved in the depths of the wilderness. Her emotions flowed into him, pure and genuine, offering a sense of belonging that his soul desperately sought. Night after night, his hunger called to him, but it was her essence that truly satiated him, pulling him back with an irresistible force.

A sudden rustling to his right pierced the thick silence of the forest, drawing Jasper’s attention like a predator’s gaze locking onto its prey. A low growl bubbled up from his throat, a visceral snarl of warning as he instinctively tightened his grip around the remains of his meal. His lips curled back in a fierce display, exposing sharp teeth, as his eyes narrowed, fixating on the source of the disturbance. Crouched low, muscles coiled like a spring, he bristled with anticipation, ready to spring into action at the slightest flicker of movement. The primal instincts surged within him, drowning out the whispers of reason and restraint.

"Hey," came Emmett's voice, steady yet cautious, cutting through the tension like a knife. He stood a few paces away, arms raised in a gesture of peace, a stark contrast to the primal chaos surrounding Jasper. Despite the strong bonds of family, none of them dared to breach Jasper's space when he was feeding. He was a volatile storm, fierce and unpredictable, known for a temper that could ignite in an instant. No one had forgotten the lesson they learned the hard way when Edward had miscalculated, getting too close during a hunting trip, resulting in the loss of his arm. It was pure instinct that had saved Edward’s life that day—his ability to read minds had alerted him just in time, a revelation that had left them all shaken.

Jasper let out another low snarl, the sound more feral than before as Emmett's voice registered in his mind. Logically, he recognized the familiarity in the call; it was his brother, a soothing presence in the tumult. But with the dizzying rush of adrenaline and the wild surge of emotions coursing through him from the hunt, all rational thought fell away, leaving nothing but the raw, untamed instincts of a predator in his place.

Emmett stood before Jasper, his demeanor calm yet filled with apprehension as he held out the cellphone, its sleek surface glinting in the dim light. "I have your phone," he said gently, his voice steady as he grasped the device with care. Jasper's gaze snapped to the phone, a surge of confusion coursing through him.

"Alice said you’re going to need it. Elowen is going to call." At the mention of her name, a shiver of raw instinct passed through Jasper, freezing him in place. *Mate* his mind screamed, the primal urgency of the word echoing in his thoughts. An unreasoning, fierce protectiveness surged within him, fueling a deep-seated anger that welled up whenever he thought of her. The thought of anyone else uttering her name twisted something inside him, and he couldn't suppress a low, guttural snarl.

Emmett, sensing the turmoil in Jasper, spoke again, softer now. "I'm just going to leave this here." He carefully set the phone down on a nearby fallen log, the wooden surface rough under the sleek glass. Without another word, Emmett turned and sprinted away, his presence fading into the shadows.

The moment Emmett left, Jasper lunged for the phone, cradling it in his hands as if it were a lifeline. His heart pounded fiercely in his chest, each beat thrumming with worry. He held the device tightly, his eyes scanning it for any sign of life, desperate to know if Alice had been right. Would Elowen actually call? Was she safe? Was she injured or worse? Wave after wave of fear washed over him, each one more overwhelming than the last, as he braced himself for the anticipated ring that would either bring him solace or shatter his world.

He answered the phone before the first ring had a chance to finish. "Elowen?" he exclaimed, his hands shaking as he navigated the dense forest, his feet barely touching the ground as he ran with a supernatural speed. He'd never been the fastest in the family, but even now he would wager he could beat Edward in a race.

"Jasperrr," came the delicate voice on the other end, slurring slightly, the words dripping with a playful, carefree tone. "Hi, Jasper." She giggled, the sound ringing in his ears like a melody. "Jasper, I like that name; it sounds... old and wise."

"Elowen? Are you okay?" he pressed, his urgency palpable. Every word felt like a lifeline thrown to her through the static of the connection. His eyebrows stitched together in confusion at the tone of her voice, something he'd never heard from her before.

"Yeah, I'm like totally totally good," she replied, her voice carefree. Jasper's pace faltered for just a moment as he processed her words. She was drunk? The revelation sent a fresh surge of fear through him. He pushed forward, his thoughts racing. Was she alone? Was there someone nearby, watching over her? The anxiety clawed at his insides as he imagined her vulnerable, perhaps surrounded by unfamiliar faces, her laughter and goodheartedness masking the potential danger lurking in the shadows.

"Where are you?" he called out, his voice cutting through the crisp forest air as he picked his way through the underbrush. The trees loomed large and dense around him, their towering silhouettes casting long shadows in the dimming light. He was only a handful of miles from home, yet the thick expanse of the forest made it feel worlds away.

"I'm walking... walking," she replied, her voice laced with a playful giggle that made him both relieved and anxious.

"Walking where, Elowen? Are you with anyone?" He pressed, his undead heart racing as he finally caught a glimpse of the familiar outline of his house through the trees.

"Noooo, I’m by myself," she announced with a hint of pride, her words slightly slurred, accompanied by a small hiccup that suggested she had indulged a bit too much. "I’m walking to the party—"

A sudden clatter echoed sharply in the background, causing Jasper to freeze in place. "Shit," Elowen swore, her voice tinged with frustration. Another crash followed, and he could almost visualize the scene—her stumbling to keep her balance. "Sorry, I dropped the phone. I’m walking home."

"Where are you right now? I'm on my way," he urged, urgency spilling from his lips as he darted into the house, brushing past a worried Esme, who called out to him, her concern evident in her tone. Without a moment's hesitation, he bolted into his room, ripping off his bloodied, torn clothes and tossing on a clean outfit. He was out the door in seconds, racing down to the garage and vaulting into Emmett’s Jeep. There was no time to check if his brother was home or if he'd be upset; right now, he needed to focus.

"Hmm, I don’t know," Elowen murmured, her voice wavering slightly as if she was trying to gather her thoughts amidst the twilight.

"What do you see?" Jasper asked, his tone barely suppressing his rising panic as he peeled out of the driveway and sped down the road, tires screeching against the asphalt.

"Hmm, trees," she said, the wonder in her voice momentarily distracting him. "There are little ones, and oh my god Jasper, this tree is hugeee," she exclaimed, her excitement palpable even over the phone. Jasper pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose, stifling the irritation bubbling inside him. "I didn't even know they made trees this big. Oh, and there's a road."

"Are there any signs on the road, El?" Jasper asked, trying to keep his voice steady, though it was a struggle against the thrumming urgency pulsing through him.

"Awe," she cooed softly, her voice filled with warmth and delight. "You called me El."

"Elowen. Are there any road signs?"

With a brief pause, she replied, "Yes, right hold on... I’ll check." The line went momentarily quiet, and he could hear her moving, the gentle sound of her feet shuffling against the pavement echoing in his ear. After a brief moment, she spoke again, her voice bright and clear. "I see one! It says ‘Barber and Wright. Barber and Wright?? What kind of road names are those... who even invented the names of roads?"

"Stay there," He told her, "I'm almost there." The speed he was driving would undoubtedly land him with a felony charge but he didn't slow down. Emmetts jeep had a radar check in it, if there were any cops out he'd know it before they did and even then his ability made people agreeable.

"Okay," she slurred, her words slightly mumbled as she tried to focus on him. It took him only three minutes to reach her, but he deliberately slowed his approach, wanting to avoid startling her with his speed. The car’s engine quieted as he shifted it into park, and in a blur of motion, he was suddenly right in front of her.

She looked up, eyes wide with surprise and a hint of bewilderment. "Woah, that was crazy," she gasped, still trying to process what had just happened. "How’d you get here so fast?" Her gaze darted around.

"Are you okay?" He inquired, his brow furrowed with concern as his eyes meticulously scanned her from head to toe, searching for any signs of injury or distress.

She let out a soft giggle, her playful demeanor lighting up the air between them. "You're just like one of those speedster superheroes," she teased, playfully poking his chest with her finger, a smile dancing on her lips.

“What are you doing out here all by yourself, Elowen?” he asked, his voice slightly scolding as he noticed her standing alone under the fading twilight. With a gentle but firm grip, he helped her into the lifted jeep, his hands ensuring she settled comfortably into the passenger seat.

Once she was secure, he hurried around to the driver’s side, climbing in with a sense of urgency. He adjusted the rearview mirror and glanced at her with a mixture of concern and relief before shifting the car into drive. The engine roared to life, and he guided the jeep along the winding path, heading toward her house. The tires crunched on the gravel as they picked up speed, the scenery rushing past them, each moment filled with unspoken words and the relief of being together again.

"I wasn't alone," She told him playfully as she pulled a stuffed pumpkin out of her basket, its face fluffy and smiling. Jasper shook his head, as she continued. "I wanted to go home," she slurred softly, her gaze fixed on Jasper. There was a faraway look in her eyes, a mix of cloudiness and haze that hinted at a long night. "And driving right now would be completely irresponsible," she added with a hiccup, nodding firmly as if to convince herself.

Jasper felt a twinge of concern as he studied her expression. "I would have come to pick you up from the party, El," he replied gently, hoping to ease her worries.

"And I would have walked home just f-fine, really," she insisted, her voice tinged with defiance. She flashed him a bright smile, one that illuminated her face and seemed to chase away the shadows of doubt that loomed in his mind. But despite her cheerful demeanor, he felt a tight knot of anxiety twisting in his stomach. What if she hadn’t called him?

As the thought crossed his mind, a wave of dread washed over him. He imagined all the potential dangers lurking in the darkness of the streets she would have traversed alone. The small town, filled with life during the day, transformed into a maze of uncertainty at night. People passing by, shadows flickering, the sudden chill in the air—it all came together to create a perfect storm of worry for him. The fear for her safety pulsed through him, a relentless reminder of how vulnerable she could be in moments like these. She could have gotten hit by a car.

And her costume... he suddenly realized was different than the one she wore at school. His throat suddenly felt dry as he took her in, the corset hugging her figure and the skirt that had fallen to the side revealing her smooth delectable thigh. He didn't want to imagine what else could have happened to her alone on the road in that outfit.

He glanced over at her, his gaze meeting hers, and noticed that her eyes were fixed intently on him. A flicker of concern broke through his confusion as her emotions seemed to swirl into a muddled haze, likely fueled by the alcohol coursing through her veins. "What's wrong?" he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and gentle concern.

"Nothing..." she mumbled, her voice slightly slurred and unsteady. "You're just always so serious and polite. I don't think you even know how to relax." She leaned back slightly in her chair, crossing her arms and pouting playfully, her cheeks flushed from the drinks they had shared.

He chuckled softly.. "I'm relaxing right now," he replied, a grin spreading across his face. He felt a wave of tranquility wash over him. Having her safely beside him, where he could keep an eye on her and ensure no harm would come to her, had a calming effect on his previous worried state.

"Liar, you're always like—" Her playful tone trailed off as a dopy smile melted into a serious expression, a stark contrast that painted her features with sudden intensity. "Hello, I'm Jasper Hale, and I am very mysterious and broody," she continued, her voice dropping an octave as she leaned into a theatrical performance. "And definitely not hiding any giant secrets," she finished, mimicking Jasper’s deep voice in a way that was meant to be humorous, though it fell significantly short of capturing his enigmatic charm.

He chuckled lightly at her impersonation, but the laughter faded as a flicker of unease crossed his face. "You've got me all figured out, don't you?" he replied, the smile lingering on his lips but his eyes revealing a hint of tension. Despite his nonchalant tone, the weight of his secret loomed over him, growing heavier with every joke. She was far too observant for her own good, and he could feel the invisible line between them thinning.

As they approached her empty driveway, he pulled the jeep to a stop, the familiar sound of tires crunching on gravel filling the air. He shifted the gear into park and turned his head slightly to observe her. The moment felt suspended in time, the night sky framing her perfectly. He allowed himself a moment to truly look at her, curiosity and concern swirling in his mind, caught between the urge to protect his secret and the undeniable connection forming between them.

"Yup!" She nodded triumphantly. "Totally... except for the parts I haven't figured out yet." She paused, her lips pouting. "Which is most of them. But not to worry I'm going to figure you out Mr. Hale."

"C'mon little detective let's get you inside," He chuckled as he swiftly unbuckled his seatbelt opened the driver's side door, and hurried around the car. Reaching her side, he leaned down slightly, his face breaking into a warm smile. "Here, let me help you," he said gently as he grasped the door handle and swung the door wide open. He extended his hand toward her, offering his support as she stepped out onto the pavement, glancing up at him with a grateful smile.

"Annoyingly perfect and mysterious guy," she muttered under her breath, unaware that her words were perfectly audible to him. A soft chuckle escaped his lips, a mixture of amusement and delight, as he strolled alongside her toward the door. Just as they reached the last step, her foot unexpectedly caught on the edge, sending her off balance. In an instant, he sprang forward, effortlessly catching her in the nick of time before she could tumble to the ground, a look of concern flashing across his face that quickly melted into a playful smirk.

"My knight in shining armor," she declared with exaggerated flair, dramatically dropping the back of her hand to her forehead as if she were a damsel in distress in an old romantic novel. Jasper couldn't help but shake his head, a mix of laughter and disbelief bubbling up within him as he watched her performance.

"Let’s go, princess," he quipped playfully, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he swept her off her feet. With a swift motion, he lifted her into his arms, cradling her in a bridal hold. She squealed in delight, her laughter ringing through the air as she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, her grip tightening as she savored the moment.

As they approached the door, she fished around in her bag, retrieving the keys with a triumphant smile. Jasper reached for them, their fingers brushing momentarily, sending a tiny jolt of electricity between them. With one smooth motion, he unlocked the door and pushed it open, carrying her over the threshold as if they were stepping into a new adventure together. The comfortable warmth of the house enveloped them.

He carefully carried her upstairs, following the intoxicating scent that enveloped her and led him to the room that resonated most with her essence. As he opened the door, he took in the sight before him—everything was exactly as he had envisioned; it was a true reflection of her personality. The walls were adorned in a rich, dark green hue, while vibrant pieces of art and vintage records hung in charming disarray around the room.

Her desk, a testament to her creative spirit, was cluttered with an eclectic mix of notebooks filled with handwritten thoughts, sketches, and half-finished assignments. Strands of twinkling fairy lights wound their way around her bedframe, casting a soft, ethereal glow that danced across the room, giving it a magical ambiance.

In one corner, a pile of clothes lay strewn haphazardly, revealing her carefree nature, while a small side table was littered with forgotten makeup palettes and hair styling tools. With tender care, he gently placed her on the bed, ensuring she was comfortable, as he took in the enchanting atmosphere that so perfectly encapsulated her spirit.

"You should change into something comfortable, I'll go get you some water," he said, his voice steady as he turned away without waiting for a response. The air around him was thick with the intoxicating essence of her presence. Her scent lingered in the room, a delicate blend of distant floral notes and warmth that felt almost tangible. Everywhere he looked, reminders of her surrounded him—her favorite books scattered across the nightstand, a cozy blanket draped carelessly over the edge of the bed, and the faint impression of her laughter still echoing in the corners of the space. It struck him with a bittersweet pang, the sheer depth of her essence enveloping him, grounding yet overwhelming.

He made his way down the hall, the soft carpet muffling his footsteps as he descended to the kitchen. The familiar sounds of the house wrapped around him, but all he could focus on was her. He filled a glass with cool water, watching the droplets bead on the surface as he took a moment to steady himself. Then, with determination, he rummaged through the cabinet in search of some pain relief. The clink of bottles echoed softly as he sifted through the assortment, his mind racing with thoughts of her. With the glass of water and the medicine in hand, he headed back toward her room.

He knocked gently on the wooden door, the sound muffled in the soft quiet of the room. A moment later, he heard her warm voice call out, inviting him to enter. As he stepped inside, his eyes were immediately drawn to her graceful figure. She stood with her back to the tall, ornate mirror looking over her shoulder into her reflection. Her fingers were delicately pulling at the corset ribbon that was knotted neatly behind her, the intricate fabric dropping from her grasp as she struggled to loosen it. The scene felt intimate, as if he were witnessing a private moment where she wrestled not just with the ribbon, but perhaps with her own thoughts as well.

"It's stuck," she said, her voice filled with frustration as she pouted slightly, her brows furrowing in annoyance. He placed the water and the small vial of medicine gently down on her bedside table, the soft thud of the glass breaking the tense silence in the room.

With purposeful steps, he approached her, sensing her discomfort. She turned around almost instinctively, her movements fluid as she surrendered her back to him moving her hair to the front, allowing him access to the stubborn knotted corset. The warmth of his presence enveloped her as he reached out, his fingers carefully untangling the mess with a gentle touch. He held his breath as their eyes locked in the reflection of the mirror. A heavy tension filled the air, and his throat felt scratchy and uncomfortably dry, as though every ounce of venom had vanished. He could see her gaze searching his, a mix of anticipation and uncertainty swirling between them.

“Done,” he whispered, his voice barely breaking the silence, so soft that he was certain the delicate sound would be lost in the charged atmosphere. Yet, he hoped she heard him, for in that moment, it felt like the culmination of everything that had been building between them.

“Thank you,” she whispered softly, a hint of vulnerability in her voice as she turned to face him fully. The air crackled with an electricity that was palpable, and he couldn't recall ever being this close to her before. The sensation made his thoughts scatter like leaves in the wind; he felt as if he might lose his ability to think altogether.

She instinctively grasped the ornate front of her corset, her fingers delicately clasping the fabric to ensure it stayed in place against her figure, while Jasper’s gaze remained locked onto her face, drinking in every nuance of her expression.

“You're too beautiful for your own good,” she said, unable to mask the awe in her voice. “It’s distracting.”

He let out a small laugh, the sound light and melodic. “That’s where you’re wrong, darlin’,” he replied, the warmth of his accented words wrapping around her. In that moment, she could hear the subtle hint of his southern lilt slipping through, and despite the gravity of the situation, he found that he didn't mind at all. He didn't care about his secret life, the lie he lived every single day. He didn't care that he was walking on the freshly sharpened edge of a sword. All he knew was the woman standing in front of him. All he knew was Elowen Reed. “You’re the distracting one.”

Their eyes held a moment longer, the world around them fading into an indistinct blur, leaving only the two of them in that charged atmosphere, where time seemed to suspend itself.

"I want to kiss you," she confessed softly, her voice a whisper that hung in the air between them. Jasper felt an unexpected surge of warmth in his cold body, as if his long-dormant heart might finally rekindle its forgotten rhythm. He swallowed hard, a knot forming in his throat, as he locked his gaze onto her earthy green irises—vivid and expressive, holding a world of vulnerability within them.

But as he tried to process her admission, he found himself shaking his head slowly. In an instant, he saw her face fall, the light that had sparked in her eyes extinguishing like a flickering candle in a storm. The realization of his rejection hit her like a tangible blow, and her embarrassment washed over her in waves, leaving her momentarily adrift.

She looked down, unable to bear the weight of her own emotions—the mixture of hope and disappointment swirling within her. It was then that Jasper couldn't bear to see her so defeated. He reached out, gently placing his hand under her chin, his cold touch both tentative and tender as he tilted her face upwards. He wanted her to meet his gaze again, to show her that despite his inner turmoil, he saw her, truly saw her, and she was beautiful.

"When I kiss you, Elowen," he murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper, carrying a weight of emotion that hung in the air between them. "I want you to remember it." The sincerity in his tone was palpable, a promise wrapped in desire. As much as every fiber of his being yearned to capture her lips against his own, the thought of taking advantage of her in her drunken state kept him firmly in check. The idea of crossing that line twisted in his gut; he couldn't bear to tarnish what was supposed to be a beautiful moment. If she had been sober and uttered those same words, he wasn't sure even the divine could hold him back from claiming what he wanted so desperately.

Elowen smiled shyly in response, a delicate blush creeping across her cheeks, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of delight and mischief. With a playful tiptoe, she slipped past him and entered the bathroom, the soft click of the door signaling her retreat. Jasper exhaled slowly, the breath he had been holding released, the tension in his shoulders easing as he felt the weight of the moment linger in the air, tethered by possibility and unspoken words.

Just moments later, she emerged from the bathroom, her whimsical costume replaced by an oversized T-shirt that engulfed her frame and a pair of soft, plaid red pajama pants that swayed gently with each step. Her hair, a tangled mess from the evening's festivities, was hurriedly swept into a loose bun, strands escaping to frame her face.

As she padded softly across the room, the plush carpet cushioned her feet, and she made her way to the welcoming embrace of her cozy bed. The blankets were warm and inviting, draping over her as she sank into their comfort, a sigh of relief escaping her lips.

She glanced over at the nightstand where the glass of water Jasper had thoughtfully brought for her sat. Reaching for it, she took a hefty drink, the cool liquid refreshing her parched throat and bringing a moment of clarity amidst the chaos of the night.

"Okay," Jasper replied, his voice steady, though it felt like a weight was settling heavily in his chest. He gave a small nod, knowing he had to leave, but the thought of it made him ache inside.

“Please don’t go,” she whispered, her voice trembling, suddenly sounding so small and vulnerable that it sent a pang of protectiveness through him. He paused mid-turn, a mix of confusion and concern flooding his thoughts as he glanced back at her. Her big eyes shimmered with unshed tears, framing the delicate vulnerability in her expression.

“I-I,” she began, her words stumbling awkwardly over one another as she nervously twisted her fingers together. "I get kinda scared being here alone," she finally confessed, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of crimson as embarrassment colored her voice. Jasper could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her body seemed to shrink in on itself, and it tugged at his heartstrings. He felt compelled to reassure her, wanting nothing more than to bridge the distance between them and quench her fears. "Lila was supposed to stay with me but she stayed with Maggie and--."

"I’m not sure that’s the best idea, Elowen," Jasper said softly, his voice laced with a hint of desperation. He gazed at her, concern etched deeply into his features, as if saying those words physically pained him. In truth, it felt like a heavy weight pressing down on his chest. He longed to offer her the support she desperately needed, to shield her from the shadows of her own fears, but staying in her home while she was intoxicated felt dangerously irresponsible. The thought troubled him, stirring a conflict within. But then again, he mused, everything about him was steeped in moral ambiguity.

"Can you at least stay until I fall asleep?" she asked, her voice tinged with vulnerability, pulling him away from the labyrinth of his own thoughts. Her pleading gaze met his, filled with a mixture of hope and desperation. In that instant, he recognized a profound truth within himself: there was nothing she could ask of him that he wouldn't willingly offer. He would grant the small redhead every wish her heart ever desired. He would kill for her, he would die for her. He would give her everything.

With a gentle smile that softened the weight of her worry, he took her hand in his, feeling the warmth radiate from her skin. "I'll stay with you as long as you want, Darlin'," he promised, his voice low and soothing, a promise wrapped in affection.

Chapter Text

JASPER HALE —

Jasper sat in the chair across the room, his posture straight, hands gripping the armrests like a man resisting the urge to move. He should have left by now. He should have never stayed. But when she had looked up at him with those tired, drunken eyes, voice barely above a whisper as she asked him not to go, something in him unraveled. He’d spent decades perfecting control, reigning in every dark, selfish urge his nature instilled in him. But tonight, he had lost the fight.

He wasn’t sorry.

Elowen slept soundly beneath the soft glow of the moon, her breath slow and steady, her body curled beneath a heavy quilt that smelled like vanilla and cloves. Jasper inhaled deeply, a quiet, unnecessary breath, letting the scent settle in his lungs like an anchor. She was intoxicating—more than blood, more than death, more than anything he’d ever known.

Her emotions swelled and receded like the tide, each shift washing over him in waves he couldn’t block out. Even unconscious, she felt so much. Warmth. Vulnerability. A lingering flicker of fear that made his jaw clench. He hated that she’d felt afraid, that she had needed to ask for his protection when he should have already been here. The possessiveness curled low in his stomach, sharp and undeniable, but he forced himself to stay still. To be better.

The others would rip him apart for this. He could already hear Alice’s exasperated sigh, feel Edward’s accusing stare. He was being reckless, foolish—weak. But he didn’t care.

She was worth it.

She shifted slightly, her fingers twitching against the pillow, and the faintest murmur left her lips. His name. His entire body went still, venom pooling in his mouth, a slow, agonizing ache unfurling in his chest.

God help him.

This was it. He wasn’t going to leave her—ever.

She had him, body and soul, for as long as she would have him.

ELOWEN REED —

Elowen woke with a groan, her head throbbing in time with her pulse. The world felt sluggish, like she was swimming through molasses, her limbs heavy and uncooperative as she blinked against the dim morning light filtering through the curtains. A sour taste lingered in her mouth, her throat parched and uncomfortable. God, she was never drinking again.

Her stomach twisted unpleasantly, and she swallowed hard, willing herself to keep still as nausea curled hot and insistent in her gut. Pressing a shaky hand to her forehead, she let out a slow breath, trying to piece together the blur of last night. Then she saw him. Jasper.

Oh, God.

Mortification flared hot across her skin as she sat up too quickly, her pulse spiking. She cradled her aching head in her hands, fingers digging into her scalp as if that could somehow erase the embarrassment sinking into her bones.

He sat in the plush chair across the room, head tilted back against the cushion, eyes closed. The shadows of early morning softened his sharp features, turning the usual intensity of his presence into something almost peaceful. 

Her gaze lingered, taking him in—the tousled waves of his golden hair, the way his strong hands rested loosely on the armrests, as if he had spent the entire night on edge, ready to move at a moment’s notice. He looked too perfect, too still. Like a statue carved by some ancient artist who had never seen a flaw before. She hesitated. Would it be rude to wake him? Should she just pretend she hadn’t seen him? Before she could decide, a fresh wave of pain crashed through her skull, forcing a whimper from her lips.

“You okay?”

Her head snapped up. Jasper was watching her now wide awake, golden eyes burning with concern. His voice was smooth, as steady as always, but there was something unreadable in his expression, something that made her stomach flip in a way that had nothing to do with her hangover. He ran a hand through his unruly curls, and she found herself mesmerized for a second by how bright his eyes looked. Brighter than usual, almost... glowing.

“Yeah,” she muttered, her voice hoarse. “It’s my own fault.” She forced a laugh, then immediately winced as the motion sent another jolt of pain through her skull. Jasper was on his feet in an instant, moving with that effortless, silent grace of his. Before she could protest, he was at her bedside, plucking a small bottle from the nightstand and shaking out two pills into his palm.

“Here,” he murmured, offering them to her along with a glass of water.

She took them with trembling fingers, her movements clumsy as she popped the pills into her mouth and chased them down with a greedy gulp of water. The cold relief of the liquid was almost euphoric. “Thanks,” she rasped before peering up at him through her lashes. Her voice softened, her confusion slipping through. “You stayed.”

Jasper didn’t move, didn’t blink. “Yeah. You asked me to.” For a second—just a fleeting moment—he looked... hesitant. Elowen frowned slightly. Jasper Hale never looked hesitant.

In the few months she had known him, he had always been the picture of cool, effortless confidence. Witty remarks, teasing smirks, a frustrating ability to push her buttons with a smoothness that felt straight out of an old Hollywood film. But now, watching him shift his weight, his fingers grazing the back of his neck, it was endearing. 

“No, yeah,” she said quickly, shaking her head, a sheepish smile pulling at her lips. “I remember. And I am so sorry.” With a groan, she dropped her face into her hands. Maybe if she sat here long enough, the floor would swallow her whole. “That's so embarrassing.”

Jasper chuckled, the sound deep and amused, before his cool hand found her back, rubbing slow, soothing circles between her shoulder blades. Elowen stiffened—just for a second—before relaxing under the unexpected comfort of his touch. His fingers were cold, almost startlingly so, but somehow, the chill was soothing against the heat of her skin. More soothing than she wanted to admit.

And worse? She didn’t want him to stop.

“You have nothing to apologize for Elowen,  you were perfectly pleasant,” the way his words curled around his tongue she could tell he was amused and that just made her even more embarrassed. He had to pick her up off the side of the road and she’d tried to seduce him! She was mortified and she doubted there was anything he could say to erase that. Jesus. 

She looked up, probably looking just as pathetic as she felt. Her lips pouted against her will as she met his eye and she could see it! He was amused. His smooth lips curled into that damn smirk, the same damn smirk that got her into trouble last night. She remembered then; she had tried to kiss him. Had asked him to untie her corset for her. Her face lit up like the fourth of July. 

Elowen groaned, flopping back onto the bed and throwing an arm over her face as if that could somehow shield her from the weight of her own humiliation. “Oh my God,” she mumbled into the crook of her elbow. “Please tell me I didn’t—”

“You did.” Jasper’s voice was far too entertained for her liking. “You were very… persistent.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, as if she could will herself into nonexistence. “Kill me.”

Jasper chuckled, the low, rich sound sending an unexpected shiver down her spine. “Now, now, darlin’. That would be a real shame.” Her stomach flopped, whether it was from her hangover or the fact he’d called her ‘darlin’ she wasn’t sure and she was far too worked up to dissect it. 

Elowen peeked out from under her arm, leveling him with what she hoped was a scowl but probably just looked like a sleepy, defeated pout. “I was that bad, huh?”

Jasper tilted his head, considering her, his golden eyes glinting with mischief. “Not bad…just bold.”

She groaned again. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“I am,” he admitted easily, leaning down so that they were almost eye level. “But in your defense, you were very polite about it.”

That caught her off guard. She peeked up at him again, brow furrowing. “Polite?”

His smirk deepened. “You asked very nicely before tryin’ to kiss me.”

Heat roared to life in her cheeks so fast it made her dizzy. “Oh my God.” She wanted to die. Right now. Immediately. She wanted a giant sinkhole to suddenly appear under the house and swallow them whole. Jasper would die too but at least the memory of last night would die with them.  “I don’t suppose there’s a chance you’ll forget about that?”

Jasper hummed as if giving it actual thought, his lips twitching. “Nope.”

She let out a dramatic sigh, pressing her palms against her burning face. “Fantastic. Just fantastic.”

His laughter was warm, unguarded, and dangerously charming. “It wasn’t all bad,” he mused, voice dipping slightly. “I didn’t mind.”

Her hands dropped from her face as her stomach flipped, eyes snapping to his. He didn’t mind? Jasper was still leaning close, his golden gaze watching her with an intensity that made her heart pound. The smirk was still there, but there was something else beneath it now—something unreadable, something that made the air feel heavier, thicker.

For a second, neither of them spoke. The room felt too quiet, too still.

Elowen swallowed. “Are you flirting with me, Jasper Hale?”

His smirk deepened, but he didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached forward, slow and deliberate, and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingertips barely grazed her skin, but the touch sent a strange, electric thrill racing down her spine.

His voice was a quiet drawl when he finally answered.

“Would it be so bad if I was?”

“Yes!” She cried out. “Look at me! I look and feel like a pile of garbage! You can't flirt with me when I look like this.” 

Jasper’s smirk widened, golden eyes glinting with amusement as he leaned in just a fraction closer. Elowen could feel his presence—cool and steady, like standing in the shadow of something dangerous but inexplicably safe at the same time. Jasper’s gaze never wavered, his smirk a little softer now, though the amusement was still there, dancing in his eyes like he was enjoying every moment of her discomfort. Her words hung in the air between them, a mix of panic and disbelief as she sat up a little straighter, her hands gripping the edge of the bed for balance. She could feel the heat rising in her face, her embarrassment creeping up her neck like a slow burn.

His fingers brushed the strand of hair back behind her ear, his touch so light that it almost didn’t feel real. But it was. She could feel the coolness of his skin against her burning cheek, and it made everything inside of her stir in a way that wasn’t helping her current situation.

“Elowen,” he said her name like it was a secret, a whisper shared between them in the quiet of the room. His voice was low, deliberate, pulling her attention as if he was commanding her to hear him.“You don’t look like garbage,” he said smoothly.

She blinked at him, trying to process his words, but all she could manage was a huff of incredulity.  Elowen groaned, dramatically flopping back against the pillows. “I absolutely do.”

He chuckled, low and rich, and she felt the warmth of it curl in her chest, annoyingly pleasant. “You’re bein’ dramatic.”

“I deserve to be dramatic,” she shot back, throwing an arm over her eyes. “You found me on the side of the road, Jasper. You had to practically carry me home. I tried to seduce you— terribly , might I add. And now, I wake up looking like a reanimated corpse, and you—” She peeked out from under her arm, waving vaguely in his direction. “You look obnoxiously perfect.”

Jasper just arched a brow, his smirk unwavering. “You think I look perfect?”

Her mouth opened. Then closed. Shit.

“That is not the point,” she huffed, rolling onto her side to glare at him properly. “The point is you’re not allowed to flirt with me when I’m in this state. That should be illegal.”

Jasper let out a soft hum, tilting his head like he was considering her argument. “And if I only flirt with you when you’re feelin’ your best, would you be okay with it then?”

A sudden, unexpected wave of warmth rushed through her chest, and she looked away, unable to meet his gaze for a second. His kindness—the way he was looking at her—made her feel simultaneously relieved and vulnerable in ways she wasn’t sure how to process. Elowen blinked. Her stomach did a weird little flip.

God, he was insufferable.

She narrowed her eyes at him, trying very hard to ignore the heat creeping up her neck. “I’m too hungover to process that.”

Jasper didn’t respond right away. He just stood there, watching her with a quiet understanding, letting her have her moment of self-consciousness. And just when she thought she might crawl under the covers and never come out, he broke the silence with a soft chuckle, his lips quirking into that damned smirk of his once more. His smirk remained, but there was something softer in his gaze now, something that made her chest feel tight. “Then let’s get you feelin’ better.”

Before she could react, he straightened, stepping back with that same effortless grace, like he hadn’t just turned her brain into complete mush.

“Why don’t you go jump in the shower, rinse the night off and I’ll make you somethin’ to eat before I get out of here,” he announced, already heading toward the door.

She stared at him, a little dumbfounded. Was he serious? “You’re gonna make me breakfast?”

“Yep.” He nodded, already moving toward the door with the same fluid grace he always had. “I’ve been told eggs are excellent for hangovers.” His laugh was quiet as he turned back, his golden eyes glinting with something unreadable. “You’ll see.” And then he was gone, leaving her staring after him, heart pounding far too fast for someone who was supposed to be miserably hungover.

She exhaled sharply, dropping back onto the mattress. What the hell was that?

Whatever it was, she couldn’t deal with it right now. Right now, she needed to shower. She felt gross, her hair a mess, her mouth still dry despite the water, and her skin sticky with the remnants of last night’s mistakes.

She stood slowly, legs a little shaky as she made her way to the bathroom, her head pounding with each step. The idea of hot water and steam clearing her thoughts seemed like heaven right now. But as she stepped into the shower, the image of Jasper—his voice, the way he’d looked at her, the way his touch had felt, and the warmth that seemed to radiate from him—lingered in her mind. And as the water ran over her skin, she couldn’t help but wonder how much longer she could keep pretending this wasn’t something far bigger than a mere friendship. As she reached for the faucet, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror.

“Oh, Jesus Christ.”

Jasper had been lying. She absolutely looked like garbage.

Stepping out of the shower, Elowen finally felt like she was reclaiming a small piece of herself. The hot water had washed away the remnants of the night before—the stickiness of sweat, the stale scent of alcohol, and the overwhelming shame that had clung to her like a second skin. Now, wrapped in the soft comfort of her favorite pink plaid pajama set, her damp hair neatly braided down her back, she felt clean, fresh, human again.

She padded barefoot across her room, the hardwood cool beneath her toes as she sank onto the edge of her bed. Oliver, her fat orange tabby, meowed sleepily from his spot atop the blankets, stretching his paws before curling into a satisfied ball. His soft kneading sent tiny ripples through the comforter, a soothing, familiar rhythm.

From downstairs, the sound of clinking dishes and quiet movement filled the air, followed by the most delicious scent she had ever encountered.

Elowen inhaled deeply, her stomach twisting in both hunger and mild nausea. Whatever Jasper was cooking smelled unreal. Warm, buttery, slightly savory, with the unmistakable scent of toasted bread and spices. She considered venturing downstairs, but the thought of navigating the staircase in her delicate state made her wince.

Instead, she climbed back under the covers, sinking into the softness, and reached for her laptop. The cool weight of it settled against her legs as she pulled up a movie, pressing pause as soon as the screen lit up. She wasn’t really paying attention, not with the steady footsteps now ascending the stairs.

And then he appeared. Jasper stepped through the doorway like a scene straight out of a dream—or a highly unrealistic romance novel.

Tall, broad-shouldered, and ridiculously handsome, he carried a plate of steaming food with the kind of effortless grace that made it look like he belonged in some five-star restaurant, serving expensive meals to the elite. His golden eyes gleamed with quiet amusement as he took in the sight of her curled up in bed, but Elowen barely noticed.

Because the food he held?

It was stunning. Scrambled eggs, fluffy and golden, sat perfectly beside slices of avocado toast so pristine it looked straight out of a food magazine. The sausages were crisp, glistening with just the right amount of char. The entire plate was a work of art.

Her stomach growled loudly in appreciation.

Jasper smirked. “I take it that means I did alright?” She reached out, taking the warm plate from his hands, but paused, her brows furrowing slightly.

“Are you not eating too?”

The idea of him just standing there while she devoured this masterpiece made her stomach twist—not with hunger this time, but guilt. Had he really gone through all this effort just for her? She opened her mouth to insist that he grab a plate for himself, but before the guilt could fully settle, a strange sensation washed over her. The feeling disappeared almost instantly, smoothed over like a wrinkle in fabric, and she suddenly didn’t feel quite as bad anymore.

Weird.

“I ate while I was cookin’,” Jasper said smoothly, his voice as even as ever. “Couldn’t help myself.” There was something about the way he said it—too casual, too practiced. Like a line he had delivered before. But Elowen was too focused on the food in front of her to think too much about it.

She grabbed her fork and took her first bite, and—holy shit. The eggs practically melted on her tongue, soft and buttery with just the right amount of seasoning. A moan of delight slipped from her lips before she could stop it.

“Jesus,” she breathed, immediately going in for another bite. “This is insanely good.” Jasper chuckled, and when she looked up, she found him watching her, that signature smirk tugging at his lips.

“How are you so good at everything?” she asked after swallowing, shaking her head in disbelief. “It’s honestly a little unfair. You’re setting an unrealistic standard for the rest of my friends.”

He shrugged, leaning casually against her desk, arms folding over his chest. “Guess I’m just a jack of all trades.”

Elowen rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling as she continued eating. Jasper, for his part, stayed quiet, watching her with an unreadable expression. After a moment, he shifted, pushing off the desk. “Well, I guess I’ll get outta your hair. Unless there’s anything else you need?”

She froze. He was leaving?

Of course he was leaving. He had done his part—rescued her from her drunken embarrassment, made sure she wasn’t dying, cooked her a literal five-star breakfast. It was the weekend. He probably had better things to do.

But still… A hollow feeling settled in her chest. She didn’t want him to go.

The thought caught her off guard, but it was true. The idea of being alone in this quiet house, with nothing but a movie playing in the background and her own thoughts gnawing at her, suddenly seemed unbearable.

Before she could talk herself out of it—before the nerves could sink their claws into her and convince her to keep quiet—she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Do you want to watch a movie with me? Unless you have plans…I’m sure you’re busy, nevermind,” She rambled without control. 

Jasper’s lips twitched, amusement flickering in his golden eyes as he tilted his head slightly. “Elowen,” he drawled, “you sure do talk yourself outta things real quick.” 

Elowen clamped her mouth shut, mortified at how fast she’d backpedaled. Heat crept up her neck, and she quickly shoved another bite of food into her mouth just to stop talking.

Jasper watched her for a moment, his expression unreadable, before shifting his weight and glancing at the laptop still open at the foot of her bed. “What’re we watchin’?”

She blinked. “Wait… you’ll stay?”

His smirk returned, lazy and undeniably smug. “Didn’t say no, did I?”

Elowen almost choked on her eggs. He was staying. “Oh,” she said quickly, swallowing. “Uh, I hadn’t picked yet, but I was thinking something easy—maybe a comedy?”

Jasper hummed, stepping closer. “Not a horror movie?”

She gave him a deadpan look. “I think I’ve had enough terrifying experiences in the past twelve hours, thanks.” That earned her a quiet chuckle, and then, to her complete and utter shock, Jasper moved.

He sat down. Not in the chair across the room. Not at her desk. On the bed. Right next to her. Elowen went stiff as a board, her fork frozen midair. Jasper, of course, didn’t seem affected in the slightest. He sat with one leg stretched out and the other bent at the knee, leaning back against the headboard like he had done this a thousand times before. Like he belonged here. Even Oliver wasn’t bothered by his sudden presence. The same cat who would grumble and run away if Elowen dared to shift the slightest bit in the night. Ridiculous. 

Her brain? Not functioning.

Jasper Hale was in her bed. Okay, not like that, but still—this was weird, right? She tried to act casual, turning her attention back to her laptop as if this was totally normal and she wasn’t silently freaking out.

“Alright,” she muttered, clicking through her streaming options. “Comedy it is.”

Jasper nodded, seemingly satisfied, then gestured toward her plate. “Finish your food first.”

Elowen squinted at him. “Yes, Dad.”

He gave her a look, all mock offense. “I prefer ‘master chef,’ if you don’t mind.” She snorted, shaking her head, but took another bite anyway. Jasper didn’t move, didn’t even fidget. He just sat there, too still, too composed, too perfect, like a marble statue carved into the fabric of her bed. Watching her. Waiting. And somehow, instead of feeling self-conscious, instead of feeling like she had something to prove, she just… relaxed.

Her body unwound, her stomach settled, and for the first time since waking up, she felt okay. Maybe Jasper staying wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Jasper’s fingers brushed over the soft, well-worn fabric of the stuffed rabbit, his golden eyes flickering with quiet amusement. “Who’s this?”

Elowen swallowed her last bite of food, setting her empty plate on the nightstand with a small clink before glancing over. With the food in her stomach she was finally feeling like a person again despite the mild ache in her head. The sight of the plush toy in Jasper’s large, impossibly steady hands made something inside her chest ache—something warm and nostalgic.

She smiled. “That’s Bunny.”

Jasper chuckled, his thumb grazing over the faded stitching. “Bunny?” He arched a brow, smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Pretty on the nose, huh?”

Elowen let out a small laugh, shrugging. “I was a very literal and specific child. I lacked any sense of creativity.” Jasper hummed, waiting for her to continue.

“Bunny is Bunny,” she said simply, reaching over to give the stuffed rabbit an affectionate pat. “My childhood dog was Dog. I didn’t call my friends by their names, they were just Friend. If I was hungry, I didn’t just want food—I wanted exactly six carrots, four grapes, and this much juice.” She held up her thumb and pointer finger, demonstrating a precise measurement.

Jasper’s eyes crinkled with amusement. “You knew what you wanted. Nothin’ wrong with that.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Elowen murmured, her smile softening. “My dad thought it was endearing… my mom, not so much.” She didn’t mean for her voice to go quiet, but it did. The lightness of the moment dimmed just slightly, like a candle flickering against a draft. She glanced down at Oliver, running her fingers through the soft fur on his back, grounding herself in the repetitive motion. Jasper noticed.

“You don’t talk about them much,” he said carefully. “Your parents.”

Elowen exhaled slowly, her fingers stilling against Oliver’s fur. “It’s not that I don’t want to,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… it makes people uncomfortable. They don’t know what to say, and then I feel like I have to make them feel better about my life. And then I have to do all the work to make things normal again between us to bring my friendship back to the way it was before I shared,” She let out a short, humorless laugh. “So, I just don’t talk about it. It’s easier that way.”

Silence settled between them—not heavy, not suffocating, but understanding . Jasper shifted slightly, setting Bunny back onto the bed with deliberate care before looking at her, really looking at her.

“I won’t judge you, Elowen. If you want to share I’d be more than happy to listen to you, and I promise nothing will change.” 

Her breath caught. There was something in his eyes—something deep, something steady that made her chest tighten. He wasn’t just saying it. He meant it. She believed him. And for the first time in a long time, the weight of her grief didn’t feel quite so lonely. He might have been the only person who could truly relate to her in this town, he’d lost his parents too. 

“O-okay,” Elowen stuttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jasper’s expression remained patient, unwavering. “Only if you want to,” he reiterated, his voice steady, giving her an easy way out. She appreciated that—really, truly appreciated it—but she shook her head.

“No, I want to,” she said, firmer this time. “I never really get the chance to talk about them anymore. It makes my Nana and Papa sad, so I usually just write about it.” She nodded toward her desk, where a worn leather journal sat, its pages filled with memories she had never spoken aloud. “But I think… I think it would be good to say it.”

Jasper didn’t press, didn’t rush her. He simply waited, quiet and still, giving her space to breathe. She exhaled slowly, gathering her thoughts, organizing the chaos in her head.

“My dad… was a complicated person,” she began, her fingers absently tracing the hem of her pajama sleeve. “He was in the military, so I didn’t get to see him much. But when he was home? He was the greatest dad I could have asked for. He’d take me to the zoo, camping, amusement parks—he always made sure we had fun. And when you’re a kid, that’s all you really notice, y’know?”

Jasper didn’t speak, didn’t even shift, but she could feel his attention locked on her, steady and grounding. So she continued.

“My mom was different,” she murmured. “I had… problems with her. Which I realize now wasn’t really her fault. She was the one who had to do all the actual parenting—chores, homework, making sure I was responsible—while my dad got to swoop in and be the ‘fun’ parent. And I hated her for it. I thought she was being mean, keeping me from all the things he let me do. I just—” She swallowed, shaking her head. “I didn’t understand the situation back then.” The words were coming easier now, though they left a dull ache in her chest.

“And their relationship?” She let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “It was awful. They fought all the time. Screaming matches, slamming doors—it was constant. And then, after my dad died, I found out…” Her throat tightened. “I found out he was cheating on her. The whole time. I have a half-sister on the East Coast who I’ve never even met. And it wasn’t just the cheating. When they fought, he—” Her voice broke. “He would hit her.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. She inhaled sharply, blinking back the sting in her eyes.

“It was like… everything I thought I knew about him shattered overnight,” she whispered. “How do you grieve someone when you don’t even know who you’re mourning?”

Her fingers clenched the fabric of her sleeve, twisting it tight. Silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t cold or awkward. It was solid. Safe. Jasper hadn’t moved, hadn’t looked away—not in pity, not in discomfort. He just stayed. And somehow, that made it easier to keep breathing.

"My mom kept it all hidden from me," Elowen said, her voice barely above a whisper. "She didn’t want me to see my dad as the… bad guy he was. But after he died, she just—she unraveled. The trauma, the abuse, raising me alone, and then losing him… it was too much." She swallowed hard, the lump in her throat making it difficult to breathe. Jasper sat perfectly still beside her, his golden eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that almost burned. He didn't speak, but she could feel him listening. Hanging onto every word.

"She started using drugs to cope. To forget. To survive, I guess." Elowen let out a shaky breath, blinking quickly as her vision blurred. "It got bad. Really bad. Some nights, she wouldn't come home at all. And when she did, she was barely there. Just… a ghost walking around in her own life."

A single tear slipped down her cheek, but she didn’t bother wiping it away. "I tried to help her, you know? I would tuck her in, make sure she ate something, clean up the messes she left behind. But I was just a kid. And she was too far gone."

Jasper reached out—hesitant, almost reverent—and took her hand in his. His skin was ice cold against hers, but the gesture was grounding, solid. “Do you want to take a break?” His voice was thick with something unspoken, his grip just the slightest bit tighter than before.

Elowen shook her head. "No, it’s okay," she sniffed, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. "I want to finish."

She drew in a breath, steadying herself. "One night, social services showed up. Someone had reported us—probably a neighbor, maybe a teacher. She wasn’t home, so they took me. I spent a week in foster care before my grandparents came and got me. They tried to help her… paid for rehabs, therapy, everything they could think of. But you can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved." Jasper flinched—so slight, so fast, she almost missed it.

"And your mom?" he asked, though she could tell he already knew. Maybe it was the way her voice had changed. Maybe he could hear her heart breaking all over again.

Elowen exhaled softly, tilting her head toward the sky. "She overdosed. Three years ago." Jasper inhaled sharply through his nose, as if he had just been hit.

"Elowen," he whispered. His fingers curled around hers, firm but careful. "I am so sorry."

She forced a smile, but it wobbled at the edges. "She was in so much pain, and I didn’t see it until it was too late. I just… I hope she’s at peace now. I have to believe that."

Jasper’s thumb ghosted over her knuckles. “And you?” he asked, his voice soft as a breath. “How are you?”

Elowen hesitated. Most people didn’t ask that—not really. They asked, but they didn’t want the truth. "I’m okay." Jasper didn’t look convinced.

She sighed, glancing down at their joined hands. "Some days are harder than others. But my grandparents put me in therapy. I used to go three times a week. Now it’s just once a month." She exhaled, long and slow. "I’ve worked through a lot of it. But what hurts the most is that… I can’t really talk about my parents anymore. Not with my grandparents. It’s too painful for them. My mom was their little girl, and if I bring her up, they just—" She swallowed hard. "They shut down. They start crying, and I hate making them sad. So I keep my memories to myself."

Jasper's grip tightened, just a fraction. "You don’t have to keep them to yourself," he murmured. "You can tell me. Anything. Anytime."

She blinked at him. "Really?"

"Yes. If you remember something—good or bad—tell me. Even if I’m not with you. Call me." His words sent warmth through her chest, something safe and solid in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time.

She smiled—small, but real this time. "Okay." Elowen let the quiet settle between them for a moment. It wasn’t awkward or empty—it was full. Full of things she didn’t have to say, and things Jasper didn’t have to ask to understand.

His fingers, still wrapped around hers, squeezed gently before he let go, his hand lingering on the bed between them. Not asking. Just… there. If she wanted to take it again.

She exhaled, rolling her shoulders like she could physically shake off the weight of everything she’d just shared. “Sorry,” she muttered, rubbing at her face with both hands. “That was a lot.”

“Don’t apologize.” Jasper’s voice was steady, sure. “You needed to say it.”

She gave him a tired smile. “Yeah. I guess I did.” A beat passed. Then another. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, but she could still feel the heaviness clinging to the air between them, like fog that hadn’t quite lifted. Jasper, apparently, felt it too.

“You know,” he mused, tilting his head slightly. “If you want to distract yourself, we do have a movie queued up.”

Elowen huffed a soft laugh. “Right. The whole reason you stayed.”

“One of the reasons.”

Her stomach did something weird at that—flipped, maybe. She decided not to unpack it. Instead, she leaned over pressing play on the laptop at the foot of the bed, curling into the corner as the opening credits rolled. Jasper sat beside her, close but not too close, his posture perfectly at ease. 

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Wait. Have you seen this before?”

Jasper turned to her, expression blank. “No.”

She squinted harder. “You’re a terrible liar.”

That earned her a quiet chuckle. “I’ve seen a lot of movies.”

“Of course you have,”  Elowen shook her head, a real smile tugging at her lips now. The movie played on, filling the room with flickering light and soft background noise, and for the first time in a long time, she felt… lighter.

Not entirely okay. Not yet. But getting there. And somehow, she knew Jasper would be there for every step of it.

Chapter Text

JASPER HALE—

Elowen had always been delicate. He’d known it from the moment she first walked into Trigonometry, her presence quiet yet undeniably there, like a whisper in a silent room. But now—now that he knew the weight she carried, the pain stitched into the fabric of her past—his instincts screamed at him to keep her safe.

It had only been a week since she told him everything. Since she let him into a part of herself, he doubted she had ever shared so openly before. He hadn't said much that day—because what could he say? No apology, no reassurance, would ever erase the suffering she had endured.

But something inside him had shifted. She wasn’t just his friend anymore. That word felt too small, too insignificant to describe what she was becoming to him. She was his.

Not in a way that would trap her. Not in a way that would take away her choices. But in the way the stars belonged to the night sky, the way the ocean was pulled to the shore. She was his person in a way that made his undead heart ache, and he knew—if anything tried to hurt her again, he would destroy it.

It was getting harder to restrain himself.

He had always been protective of her, but now? It was a constant, gnawing thing in his chest. An awareness that never faded, even when she wasn’t around. Every time she walked through the school hallways, surrounded by careless, oblivious humans, his body tensed with the need to pull her close. To shield her from everything and everyone.

He had to be careful. Had to remind himself that she wasn’t like him. That she didn’t belong to his world, even if every part of him wished she did.

"Jasper?" Her voice pulled him back into the present. He blinked and found her staring at him, brow furrowed, lip tucked between her teeth like she did when she was trying to figure him out.

He had been staring. Again .

He schooled his expression into something lighter, offering a small, knowing smirk. "Yes?" She huffed, rolling her eyes, but the expression didn’t quite reach her eyes. There was something softer beneath it—something warm and unguarded, like the lingering heat of a flame after the fire had burned low.

“You keep zoning out.” Her voice was quiet, almost tentative, but then she dropped her gaze to the open textbook between them, fingers twisting the edge of the page. “I—I don’t know how to do this,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jasper’s lips curled at the edges. Adorable.

She always did this—put every ounce of her focus into a problem, scrunching up her nose and biting her lip as she tried to will the answer into existence. He had seen it happen a hundred times before. The way she tapped her pencil against the desk when she was frustrated, the way her fingers smudged the graphite on her paper as she erased and tried again. And every time, he fought the urge to reach out, to steady her hand, to touch.

She was getting better, though. He noticed it, even if she didn’t.

This had become their routine. Yet nothing about it felt ordinary. Not anymore. It felt… like a slow unraveling. Like something inevitable pulling them closer, no matter how much he tried to resist. Jasper exhaled softly, his restraint slipping just enough for him to act on impulse. His hand reached for the bottom of her chair, his fingers curling around the wooden frame with ease as he pulled her closer. Effortless. Smooth. As if the distance between them had never belonged there in the first place.

The effect was immediate. Her breath hitched. Her heart thudded wildly, the sound crashing into his ears like rolling thunder. And her emotions—God, her emotions. They erupted inside her, a brilliant, pulsing storm of intrigue, nervousness, and something else—something deeper, something dangerous.

He felt it, like a drug in his system. Like a flame licking at his skin.

Jasper swallowed hard, tamping down the hunger—the bloodlust, yes, but something more than that. Something primal, possessive, aching. He turned to her slowly, his gaze locking onto her face, studying every shift in her expression. He could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the way her lashes fluttered as she tried to calm herself.

She was struggling to breathe. Because of him. A deep, satisfied hum rumbled in his chest. He leaned in just a fraction, lowering his voice to something almost sinful. “Which one?”

Her pupils dilated. A pretty blush bloomed high on her cheeks, trailing down her throat, disappearing beneath the neckline of her sweater. His eyes followed it, captivated.

Then—that lip. She dragged it between her teeth, biting down, pulling, worrying at it in a way that made his entire body tense. His own lips parted slightly, his gaze darkening as something in his chest coiled tight. Mine.

The thought came unbidden. Uncontrolled.

Elowen hesitated, her fingers tightening around her pencil before she managed to stammer out, “Um… number five.”

Jasper forced himself to exhale, forcing his mind back to something—anything—that wasn’t the unbearable temptation sitting inches away from him. It was only math. So why did it feel like he was coming undone? Jasper dragged his eyes away from her lips, forcing himself to focus.

Number five. Right.

The numbers on the page meant nothing to him—they never did. Advanced calculus, theoretical physics, mathematical theory—he’d mastered them all decades ago. The equation before him was nothing more than a string of symbols, impossibly simple. And yet, with Elowen so close—so warm, so utterly human beside him—it might as well have been written in a foreign language.

He exhaled slowly, steadying himself. “Alright,” he said, his voice smoother now, controlled. “Let’s take this step by step.”

Elowen nodded, but she didn’t look at the paper. She was still looking at him. Jasper let it slide, turning slightly so their shoulders brushed—a small, fleeting touch, but he felt her breath catch at the contact. His smirk was subtle but satisfied. She felt it, too.

"You’ve got the equation set up right,” he murmured, tapping a long finger against the edge of her paper. "That’s the hardest part. Now, simplify this section first—” He leaned in just a little, watching the way her pulse ticked in her throat. "Right here.”

Elowen blinked hard and quickly turned her attention back to the notebook, gripping her pencil as if it would ground her. She hesitated, erasing something before rewriting it. “Like this?” Jasper tilted his head, watching her work. He could hear the slight tremor in her breath, see the way her fingers fumbled with the pencil just slightly. His presence was distracting her.

Good. Bad. Dangerous.

He swallowed, pushing the thought away. “Almost. You’re overcomplicating it.” He reached out, his cold fingers barely brushing hers as he adjusted the way she held the pencil. She tensed. Heat radiated from her skin like a furnace, her pulse hammering against her wrist, her emotions flaring—a rush of nervous excitement, curiosity, something dangerously close to longing.

Jasper clenched his jaw and forced himself to move his hand away before he did something stupid. Like run his fingers along the curve of her wrist. Like trace the warmth of her skin just to see how she would react. Like kiss her in the middle of this classroom. He shifted in his seat. Focus , he reminded himself. 

“Look here,” he said, voice dropping to something smoother, more composed. He tapped the equation again, forcing himself to act like he was actually paying attention to it and not to her. "You don’t need to carry that coefficient over. Just simplify it straight to this—” He took his own pencil and quickly wrote the next step, his handwriting elegant and precise.

Elowen sighed in frustration, tapping the eraser against her chin. “God, how do you make it look so easy?”

Jasper chuckled, leaning back slightly. "It is easy.”

She shot him a glare, but there was no real anger behind it. “Oh, shut up.”

His smirk deepened. “What? It is.”

“For you, maybe.” She sighed again, shaking her head as she stared at the problem. “I feel like my brain is melting.”

Jasper hummed in amusement. “You’re getting better.” She glanced at him then, searching his face as if trying to gauge whether he was just saying that to make her feel better. But Jasper never said things he didn’t mean. And she was getting better. She didn’t realize it, but he did—he noticed everything about her.

Her breathing slowed slightly as she held his gaze. Jasper could hear the shift in her emotions, the moment curiosity gave way to something warmer, something dangerous. The weight between them was heavier now, tangible, pulling them toward something neither of them were quite ready to name. Her lips parted slightly, and for a fleeting, reckless moment, Jasper wondered—was she thinking about kissing him?

The thought nearly destroyed him. His fingers curled into a fist against his knee. Not yet. He exhaled through his nose and leaned back, creating space between them before he did something he couldn’t take back.

“Try again,” he said, his voice a little rougher than before.

Elowen blinked, as if coming out of a daze, and quickly looked back down at her paper. She scribbled out the wrong answer and tried again, this time getting it right. Jasper forced himself to focus on the numbers. Not her scent. Not her pulse. Not the way her lips looked impossibly soft, impossibly tempting.

Just the math. For now. 

She carefully scribbled the numbers down, her brow furrowed in concentration, her fingers gripping the pencil just a little too tightly. When she finished, she lifted her gaze to his, eyes wide with a quiet kind of hope, uncertain but eager for his approval.

"Like this?" she asked, her voice softer now, almost hesitant.

Jasper’s gaze flickered to the paper, but it was impossible to focus on the numbers when her expression was so open, so trusting. His lips curled into something close to a smile, and his voice came out lower, smoother than before.

"Very good." He saw it then—the way her shoulders relaxed, the small, triumphant glow in her eyes. She wanted to impress him. And God help him, she did.

ELOWEN REED—

"Dude, did you know the Cullens are crazy rich? Like could-own-the-Mona-Lisa rich?" Lila’s voice cut through the quiet hum of Elowen’s bedroom, startling her out of the daze she’d fallen into while staring at her textbook. She glanced over her shoulder to find her best friend sprawled on the bed, textbooks open but clearly abandoned, her dark curls a mess from where she’d been lying face-down just moments ago.

Elowen blinked. "What?"

Lila pushed herself up on her elbows, eyes alight with curiosity. "Yeah, my dad was talking to his buddy at the auto shop today, and apparently, Carlisle Cullen is, like, obscenely wealthy. Some guy came in complaining about hospital donations or something, and my dad’s friend was like, ‘Oh yeah, the Cullens basically fund half the hospital.’”

Elowen turned fully in her chair, resting an arm against the back of it. "Woah, I didn’t think they were that rich."

Lila scoffed. "El, their house has floor-to-ceiling windows and looks like it came straight out of a magazine. Did you think they were just upper-middle-class or something?"

Elowen frowned, twirling her pencil between her fingers. She’d been to Jasper’s house once—just briefly, when they were on their way to Carvers and he’d forgotten his wallet. She’d insisted she would pay, but he wouldn't hear a single word about it. She had only seen the inside of the front entryway, but she remembered the sleek, modern design, the expensive artwork on the walls, the way everything looked untouched—like a display home rather than a place people actually lived.

She also remembered how casual Jasper had been about it, like none of it mattered.

Like he didn’t even notice.

Elowen shook her head. "I don’t know. They just don’t act rich, you know? They have nice cars but they never talk about money, they don’t throw huge parties or anything."

Lila tilted her head, thoughtful. "Yeah, but that almost makes it weirder, doesn’t it? Like, what do they even do? I never see them out shopping, they don’t hang out at the diner, they don’t go to any school events. It’s like they exist in their own little bubble.” Elowen hesitated. She had been spending more and more time with Jasper lately—walking home together, studying, just being. 

“I hang out with Jasper all the time,” Elowen bristled slightly, feeling strangely protective over Jasper and his family. 

Lila flopped back onto the bed dramatically. "I know but the others dont talk to anyone. I mean they’ve been here for months surely the fear of being the new kid has worn off. I’m just saying, there’s something off about them. The whole school thinks so. The only reason no one really questions it is because they’re hot. If they were weird and ugly, people would be way more suspicious."

Elowen rolled her eyes. "You’re ridiculous."

Lila grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I’m not wrong, though."

Elowen just laughed, shaking her head as she turned back to her math homework, but the numbers blurred on the page. Her mind wasn’t on equations anymore—it was stuck on Jasper. On the Cullens. On all the little things about them that had never quite made sense.

Lila’s voice broke through her thoughts. “How are you guys doing, by the way? Are you dating yet?” Elowen sighed. There it was. The question she had been dodging every single day for the last month and a half.

"No, we are not dating," she said flatly, rolling her eyes as she scribbled down an answer to a problem she wasn’t even sure was correct.

Lila scoffed. "And why not?"

Elowen threw her hands up. "I don’t know, Li. We’re just friends, and it’s nice. He hasn’t asked, and I’m definitely not going to."

Lila sat up straighter, leveling her with an exasperated look. “Why not?”

Elowen groaned. "Because it’s complicated!"

Lila crossed her arms, clearly unimpressed. "What’s so complicated about it? You like him, right?" Elowen hesitated. Her fingers tightened around her pencil, tapping it lightly against the paper.

Did she like Jasper? It was a stupid question. Of course, she did. She liked the way he always walked on the side of the sidewalk closest to the street, like it was instinct to protect her.
She liked the way his words curled when he was talking to her, almost as if he had an accent.
She liked how he never made her feel small—not even when he towered over her, not even when he was effortlessly better at everything. She liked how he always helped her whenever she needed, never making her feel like a burden. She liked how he listened. Really listened.

She liked him. A lot. And that was exactly the problem.

"It’s not that simple," she finally muttered, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

Lila flopped onto her stomach dramatically. "Ugh, why not? You’re literally always together. You’re the only person he talks to outside of his siblings. He’s clearly into you—

"He’s not."

Lila deadpanned. "El. Be so for real right now."

Elowen huffed. "I mean, he hasn’t mentioned dating me since that first time we went to Carvers."

Lila raised an eyebrow. "Are we talking about the same Jasper? The one who walks you home every day? The one who looks at you like you personally hung the stars? The one who nearly murdered Nathan Parker with his eyes when he got too close to you at lunch last week?"

Elowen flushed. "That was not—"

"Oh, it absolutely was. I was sitting right there. Jasper looked like he was about to rip the guy in half."

Elowen had noticed. She had felt the change in the air, the way Jasper’s entire body had gone still the second Nathan had leaned a little too close, cracking some joke about helping her with her history notes. She had caught the way Jasper’s jaw tensed, the way his golden eyes darkened just a fraction, the way he didn’t relax until Nathan walked away.

She had felt it. The shift in his presence. It had unsettled her then. It still unsettled her now.

Lila watched her closely, the smugness fading into something softer. "El, I know you overthink everything, but this one’s obvious. The guy is into you. And you’re into him. So why are you acting like dating is some impossible concept?"

Elowen sighed, dropping her pencil and rubbing at her temples. “Because it wouldn’t just be dating. Not with Jasper. It would be…” She struggled to find the right words, finally settling on, “Different.”

Lila frowned. "Different how?"

"I don’t know." But that was a lie. She did know.

She just couldn’t explain it. Being with Jasper felt different. It felt… intense, like standing too close to a wildfire—beautiful and warm, but dangerous if she got too close. And then there were the other things. The things she tried not to think about.

The way he moved—too smooth, too quiet. The way he never ate anything—not once, not ever. Not during lunch, not when they went to Carvers.  The way his skin was always cold, no matter how warm the room was. No matter what he was wearing. 

And now Lila was sitting here, casually dropping the fact that the Cullens were insanely rich on top of all of that? Elowen’s stomach twisted. Jasper was keeping secrets. She knew that much. But was she ready to find out what they were?

Lila sighed, sitting back against the headboard. “Well, whatever it is, you should figure it out soon. Because you, my dear, are absolutely in love with him, and I refuse to let you die an old woman pining over a mysterious, brooding boy in a leather jacket."

Elowen snorted. "He doesn’t even own a leather jacket."

Lila smirked. "Give it time. The broody ones always get there eventually." Elowen rolled her eyes and turned back to her homework, but her thoughts stayed tangled in Jasper. And for the first time, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to unravel them.

“Girls.” Lucille’s gentle knock barely preceded the creak of the bedroom door as she pushed it open, her familiar, comforting presence filling the space.

Elowen glanced up from her math book, offering a warm smile. “Hi, Nana.”

“Hi, Mrs. Reed!” Lila chimed in from the bed, her voice cheerful as she reached for Oliver, the fluffy tabby cat lounging lazily beside her textbooks. Oliver let out a grumpy, drawn-out meow as Lila scooped him up, his tail flicking in mild protest. But he didn’t fight her, settling into her arms with an air of resigned dignity, as if he had simply accepted his fate as a personal teddy bear.

Lucille chuckled at the sight, shaking her head. “I made some cinnamon rolls if you’re interested.”

That was all it took. Elowen and Lila locked eyes for half a second, silent in their shared understanding, before they simultaneously launched out of their seats.

“Move, move, move!” Lila shrieked, nearly tripping over Oliver as she shoved off the bed, laughing as she sprinted toward the door. 

Elowen was right behind her, dodging the desk chair and narrowly avoiding a pile of books stacked on the floor. Their footsteps thundered down the hallway as they tore through the house, nothing but the sound of breathless laughter and the pounding of socked feet against hardwood.

“Slow down, you little hooligans!” Lucille called after them, her exasperation half-hearted and laced with amusement. But they were already gone.

By the time she made it to the stairs, Elowen and Lila had skidded into the kitchen, breathless and triumphant, hands already reaching for the warm, golden-brown pastries cooling on the counter. The scent of cinnamon and sugar wrapped around them like a cozy blanket, filling every corner of the kitchen with its sweet, buttery warmth.

“Oh my God, they look amazing,” Lila groaned as she grabbed one, peeling it apart with her fingers, the gooey icing stretching between the layers like soft, melted silk. Elowen hummed in agreement, already biting into hers, the soft dough practically dissolving on her tongue. It tasted like home. Like Sunday mornings and rainy afternoons and everything good in the world.

Lucille entered the kitchen just in time to see them both stuffing their faces, shaking her head with a fond sigh. “You act like I don’t feed you.”

Elowen grinned around her mouthful, licking a bit of icing off her thumb. “It’s not our fault you’re the best baker in Forks, Nana.”

Lucille let out a laugh, waving a hand dismissively. “Flattery won’t get you out of doing the dishes.”

Lila gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest. “Mrs. Reed, I thought you made these out of the kindness of your heart, but now I see—this was a trap.”

Elowen snorted, and Lucille just shook her head again, reaching for a cinnamon roll of her own. “Eat your food, troublemaker.” And for a moment, everything was light, easy. No complicated feelings. No unanswered questions about Jasper and his secrets.  

Just warm pastries, laughter, and the comfort of home. 

The next morning, Elowen was ripped from sleep at the first hint of sunrise. It was miserable. She groaned, burying her face deeper into the pillow, hoping—praying—that maybe, just maybe, her Nana would take pity on her and let her sleep in. No such luck.

Lucille knocked lightly before pushing the door open, her voice far too awake for this ungodly hour. “Come on, Dovie. Time to get moving.”

Elowen let out a pitiful whine and rolled onto her back, squinting at the pale, golden light bleeding in through the window. The sky outside was still soft and muted, the world not quite awake yet—unlike Lila, who got to stay curled up in Elowen’s bed until her dad came to pick her up. But Elowen was not as lucky. 

With Winona off for the weekend, there was no babysitting gig to get her out of helping, which meant she had no other choice but to drag herself to the shelter and help her Nana run the food bank.

After a few more minutes of self-pity, she forced herself out of bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she shuffled toward the bathroom. The house was still cool from the night, the wooden floors cold beneath her bare feet as she went through the motions—brushing her teeth, pulling on an old hoodie, tying her hair into a loose ponytail. She moved on autopilot, her body awake but her brain still firmly asleep.

By the time she made her way into the kitchen, the smell of coffee and toast had filled the small house, warm and familiar. She blinked against the brightness, stifling a yawn as she slumped into her chair at the table. Her grandfather sat across from her, his old ceramic coffee mug resting in front of him, steam curling lazily into the air. The newspaper was folded beside him, untouched, like he had been waiting for her to come in before starting his morning routine.

He glanced up, amusement dancing in his tired blue eyes. “Morning, Dovie.”

Elowen grunted in response, too tired for full sentences, before reaching for the plate of toast in the middle of the table. She plucked a slice from the stack, slathered it with a thick layer of butter, and took a bite, chewing slowly.

"Hi, Papa," she finally mumbled around her mouthful.

Lucille breezed into the room, already dressed and ready, moving with the effortless energy of someone who had been awake for hours. She grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair, swinging her purse over her shoulder before turning to Elowen with an expectant look.

"Are you ready to head out?"

Elowen sighed, taking another bite of toast. No. Not even a little. But there was no getting out of it, so she swallowed down her exhaustion, finished off her breakfast, and pushed away from the table, grabbing her coat with a sigh of resignation.

“Have a nice day,” Her grandpa smiled behind his cup of coffee, the amusement written clear as day on his face. Elowen huffed. 

"Yeah, I’m coming." And with that, the day officially began.

The familiar scent of fresh bread and warm spices greeted Elowen the moment she and her grandmother stepped inside the food bank, mixing with the faint, lingering aroma of brewed coffee. The air buzzed with the low murmur of conversation, the shuffling of papers, and the occasional clang of pots and pans from the kitchen in the back.

They hadn’t even made it two steps inside before a wave of voices surrounded Elowen—soft, warm, and endlessly inquisitive.

“Oh, look who finally decided to show up!”
“Elowen, sweetheart, it’s been too long!”
“We were beginning to think you’d forgotten all about us.”

Familiar hands reached out to squeeze her arms, pat her shoulders, and ruffle her hair affectionately. She was engulfed in the rose and musk-scented hugs of her grandmother’s friends, their smiling faces practically glowing with delight. Elowen felt a sudden pang of guilt.

It had been months since she last volunteered. She’d been meaning to come back, she really had, but between school, studying, and babysitting to save for her car, the time had slipped away from her.

Only ninety-seven more dollars to go, she reminded herself. Then she’d have enough. Still, standing here now—surrounded by so many people who were genuinely happy to see her, who had missed her presence—she felt selfish for staying away so long.

Her grandmother, ever efficient, was already sorting through a stack of papers at the check-in desk, but her attention was pulled away when a familiar voice called out.

“Oh, Lucy!” Nancy, one of Lucille’s longtime friends and a regular volunteer at the shelter, bustled over with an excited expression. "I got a call yesterday morning—we have a new volunteer starting today!"

Lucille perked up, shuffling the papers in her hands. “Oh? And who might that be?”

Nancy smiled, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret. "Mrs. Esme Cullen."

That caught both Lucille and Elowen off guard. They froze, their heads snapping up in perfect unison. Lucille turned toward her granddaughter; brows raised. "Isn’t that your friend’s mother?"

Elowen, still processing, nodded. "Yeah… Jasper mentioned she was looking for something to keep busy, so I told him she should consider volunteering here."

Nancy beamed. "Well, isn’t that lovely! Esme seemed so eager when she called—so polite, too. I think she’ll fit right in here."

Lucille hummed in approval, passing a handful of papers to Elowen to organize. "That’s wonderful. We’re always happy to have more hands to help."

But Elowen’s thoughts were elsewhere. She had suggested volunteering to Jasper casually—half expecting him to brush it off. But he had actually gone through with it? And Esme Cullen, the quiet and impossibly elegant matriarch of the mysterious Cullen family, was coming here?

It was unexpected. But more than that… it felt like another piece of something. Something Elowen couldn’t quite put her finger on. She glanced at the door, her stomach twisting—not in a bad way, just… in a way that made her feel like things were about to change. She suddenly wished she would have worn something better than a ratty old sweatshirt and some jeans. 

Elowen had just begun sorting through a crate of canned goods when the door opened again, allowing a gust of crisp autumn air to sweep through the shelter. She glanced up absently, expecting to see one of the regular volunteers, but instead, her eyes landed on Esme Cullen.

For a moment, Elowen just stared. Esme was effortlessly graceful, poised in a way that seemed almost unreal. She carried herself with the kind of elegance that couldn’t be taught—an innate softness that made her presence both calming and commanding. Her caramel-colored hair framed her delicate features in gentle waves, her golden eyes warm as they scanned the room. How was she that beautiful? How were they all so beautiful? 

Even in a simple knit sweater and jeans, she looked like she belonged in a painting, not in a food bank. And yet… The moment her gaze landed on Elowen, something shifted. It was so quick, so subtle, that Elowen almost missed it—but it was there. A flicker of something deep, something unspoken, something that made Esme’s expression soften even further.

Lucille, ever the welcoming presence, stepped forward first. “You must be Esme.”

Esme blinked, as if pulling herself out of some kind of trance, and turned to Lucille with an easy, radiant smile. “Yes, it’s so nice to finally meet you. Thank you for having me.” Her voice was smooth and kind, touched with a warmth that felt genuine.

Nancy clapped her hands together. “Oh, we’re thrilled to have you, dear! Come, come—let’s introduce you to the team.”

Elowen turned back to her crate, suddenly feeling strangely self-conscious. It wasn’t that she was intimidated by Esme, exactly, but… something about the way she had looked at her stuck in her mind. Like she had seen something in her. Like she recognized her. But that didn’t make any sense.

She shook the thought away, figuring maybe Jasper must have mentioned her or something and focused on her task, stacking cans into neat rows, grouping them by type—vegetables, soups, beans, fruit. It was mindless work, but comforting in its routine. A moment later, she felt someone step up beside her.

“Elowen?” Elowen turned, and Esme was standing there, her expression soft but searching. “Jasper’s spoken about you,” Esme said gently, “but I didn’t expect to meet you here.”

Elowen felt her cheeks heat. Okay ,so Jasper did talk about her.  She cleared her throat, offering a small, bashful smile. “Yeah, I, uh—I’ve been helping out here since I was a kid. My Nana basically runs the place, so it’s kind of unavoidable.” Esme’s lips twitched in amusement, but there was something deeper in her gaze. Something gentle, but almost… aching. Elowen didn’t know why, but it made her chest feel tight.

“I think that’s wonderful,” Esme murmured. “Giving your time, helping people—it says a lot about your heart.” Elowen swallowed, not quite sure how to respond to that.

“Here, let me help,” Esme said, reaching for a can and settling herself beside Elowen. She moved with practiced ease, stacking cans as though she had been doing this for years. For a moment, they worked side by side in silence. It wasn’t awkward, though. If anything, it felt… peaceful. And yet, Elowen couldn’t shake the feeling that Esme was watching her. Not in an intrusive way—more like she was memorizing her. Like she mattered to her in a way Elowen didn’t yet understand.

Finally, Esme spoke again, her voice softer now. “I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but… you remind me of someone I once knew.”

Elowen paused, glancing up. “Oh?” Esme smiled, but there was something bittersweet about it, something hidden in the delicate curve of her lips.

“Yes,” she said simply. “Someone very dear to me.” Elowen didn’t know what to say to that, but before she could think of anything, Esme gave her a reassuring pat on the arm, her hands just as cold as Jaspers.  “I’m glad Jasper has you,” she added, her golden eyes warm. “He needs someone like you.” Elowen’s breath hitched—just a little. And in that moment, she knew—this wasn’t just a casual meeting.

Elowen shifted on her feet, suddenly hyper aware of the warmth blooming in her cheeks. "He's a really good friend of mine," she said, coughing slightly to cover the slight waver in her voice. Esme laughed—a soft, knowing sound, like the chime of wind through autumn leaves. It wasn’t mocking, nor was it dismissive. It was amused, affectionate—like she knew something Elowen didn’t. And hell, maybe she did.

" A good friend ," Esme echoed, her golden eyes twinkling with something unreadable. She reached for another can, stacking it neatly before glancing back at Elowen with that same gentle amusement. "Funny how often the best relationships start that way."

Elowen huffed, half-exasperated, half-flustered. "It’s not like that," she mumbled, picking up a can of green beans and rolling it between her palms. "We just… get along really well. He’s easy to talk to."

Too easy. Too easy to fall into conversation with. Too easy to laugh with, to trust. Too easy to miss when he wasn’t around. Too easy to…fall in love with. Esme didn’t call her out on the hesitation in her voice, but she didn’t need to. It was written all over her expression—the slight tilt of her head, the soft curve of her lips, the understanding that stretched deeper than the words they were saying aloud.

Esme considered Elowen for a long moment before speaking again, her voice quieter now, more thoughtful. "Jasper is… special."

Elowen swallowed, her fingers tightening around the can in her hands. "Yeah," she admitted. "He is."

Esme’s smile softened, something warm and wistful flickering behind her eyes. "He doesn’t let people in easily. He carries more weight than most realize. But you…" She paused, tilting her head just slightly. "You’ve made a place for yourself in his life. That’s not something he does lightly."

Elowen’s heart stuttered in her chest. Because she knew Jasper wasn’t like other people. She had felt it from the start—the way he watched her so intently, the way he listened so carefully, the way his presence always seemed just a little… heavier, like he was holding something back. And yet, with her, he stayed. He chose to be there. Esme must have seen something in her face because she reached out then, her touch featherlight as she rested a hand on Elowen’s arm.

"You mean a great deal to him," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "I hope you know that."

Elowen looked up, meeting Esme’s gaze, and for a moment, she felt like she was standing at the edge of something she couldn’t quite name. Something deep. Something important. She didn’t know what to say, so she simply nodded.

Esme gave her arm a gentle squeeze before pulling away, her expression still touched with something almost… longing. Elowen didn’t understand it. Not yet. But she had the strangest feeling that this moment mattered. That this wasn’t just small talk. That Esme Cullen had already decided to care for her. And for reasons she didn’t fully understand, Elowen found herself comforted by that thought.

JASPER HALE—

Jasper absently thumbed through the glossy pages of the catalogue Alice had so unceremoniously dumped in his lap, his golden eyes scanning over endless lists of jewelry, perfume, and designer winter wear. It all blurred together—elegant, expensive, but utterly meaningless.

With a quiet sigh, he flipped another page, twirling his pen between his fingers before making a halfhearted mark next to a delicate silver bracelet. Would she like that? Maybe. But would it mean anything? No. And that was the problem.

Christmas was still over a month away, but he needed time. Time to figure out what he could possibly give Elowen that might express—God, what? The galaxy of emotions he felt for her? The quiet, all-consuming gravity that pulled him toward her, no matter how much he tried to resist?  A cashmere scarf wasn’t going to cut it. He exhaled sharply, setting the pen down and leaning back in his chair. What could he even give her?

He had lived long enough to see gifts exchanged over centuries, in cultures and traditions across the world. He had seen diamonds passed between lovers, silk dresses imported from overseas, love letters written in ink that bled with devotion. None of it felt right. Elowen wasn’t just any other girl.

She was warmth in a cold world. She was sunlight against his storm. She was soft edges in a life that had only ever been sharp. What could he possibly give her that would mean even a fraction of what she meant to him? His fingers traced the edge of the catalogue absently, his mind drifting—not to the endless pages of meaningless trinkets, but to her.

To the way she scrunched her nose when she was concentrating. To the way she absentmindedly hummed to herself when she thought no one was listening. To the way she tilted her head at him when she was trying to figure him out, unafraid, undeterred. His chest ached.

It was stupid. All of this was stupid. And yet. He reached for his pen again and, instead of marking the bracelet, he flipped the catalogue over, turning it to a blank page on the back.

Slowly, carefully, he began to write. Jasper let the ink bleed onto the back of the catalogue, his handwriting elegant and deliberate, each stroke of the pen heavier than the last. He hadn’t planned on writing anything. Hadn’t planned on baring himself like this. And yet, here he was. His fingers gripped the pen a little too tightly as he wrote, scrawling down words before he could think better of it.

Elowen,

I have seen many winters. More than I care to count. I have watched the snow fall in places that no longer exist on a map. I have felt the weight of time press upon my shoulders like an unforgiving hand, dragging me through lifetimes of war and silence and things I cannot name.

But never—never—have I met someone like you.

You move through this world as if you do not realize the light you leave in your wake. As if you do not know the warmth you bring, the way you make the cold bearable.

You remind me of something I had long forgotten—what it is to be human.

And I don’t know what to do with that.

I don’t know how to tell you that when you smile, the weight I carry feels lighter. That when you say my name, I no longer feel like a ghost in someone else’s story. That when you are near, I am not afraid of what I am.

Perhaps I will never say these words aloud. Perhaps they will remain ink on paper, a secret between myself and the silence.

But know this—if I could give you the world, I would. If I could pluck the stars from the sky and place them in your hands, I would. But those are only pretty things, and pretty things mean nothing.

Instead, I will give you what I can. Pieces of myself, in the only way I know how.

I only hope you will take them.

Jasper stared at the page, his breath shallow, his chest tight. He had no idea what this was. A letter? A confession? A mistake? It wasn’t a gift. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But it was something real. And if nothing else, Elowen deserved something real. 

Slowly, carefully, he tore the page from the catalogue, folding it neatly. He tucked it into his pocket, feeling the weight of it settle against his chest. Maybe one day, he would give it to her. Maybe one day, he would be brave enough. But not today. Not yet.

Before Jasper could let his thoughts spiral any further, a knock echoed against his bedroom door—light but certain. “Come in,” he called, his drawl thick as molasses.

The door slid open, revealing Esme. The moment she stepped inside, he felt it. Her emotions—normally steady, predictable—were in disarray. A swirling mess of happiness tangled with sorrow, elation woven through confusion. It was a storm unlike anything he had ever felt from her before.

Jasper sat up straight. Esme was the calmest in the house. Always had been. Even when she was sad, it was a steady, quiet grief—one that settled deep in her bones but never lashed out. She was warmth, she was patience, she was constant. But this? This was not constant. This was contradiction. It unsettled him.

“Esme?” he asked carefully, his voice low as he studied her. She lingered near the doorway, hesitant. Uncertain. Esme was never uncertain.

“Are you okay?”

A beat of silence. And then— “I met Elowen today.”

Jasper stilled. Oh. Logically, he knew it was an important moment. His family meeting his mate. He had expected Esme to have feelings about it, maybe even be excited. But this? This storm inside of her? It didn’t make sense. Elowen was kind. Thoughtful. Gentle. What about her had shaken Esme so deeply?

“Was everything okay?” Jasper asked, standing up, tension growing in his chest like a coiled spring. Had something happened? Had someone upset Elowen? Had she been hurt? Had Esme said something that frightened her? But Esme only shook her head.

“She’s beautiful, Jasper.”

The words were soft, but the weight of them hit him like a hammer. Sadness bloomed inside of her. Deep, anchoring itself to her bones like tree roots burrowing into the earth. Jasper frowned. Why would Elowen’s beauty make her sad?

Esme had never been vain. Never placed much importance on something so fleeting and subjective as beauty. And besides, while Elowen was breathtaking to him—every expression, every flicker of emotion, every tiny imperfection carved into his mind like scripture—she was still just a human. To a vampire’s eyes, she would never match the ethereal, statuesque beauty of the immortals around her.

“She looks like my daughter,” Esme finally admitted, her voice thick with something ancient, raw.

Jasper froze. He knew Esme’s story. Knew the tragedy carved into the foundation of her existence. How she had escaped her abusive husband, her daughter in tow, grasping at the fragile hope of a new life. How they had spent four fleeting years together—just four—before illness stole her away. How Esme, left with nothing, had followed after her in the only way she knew how, letting the cliffs take her body as grief had already taken her soul. Until Carlisle found her.

Jasper had always known Esme carried that pain. She had simply learned to live with it better than most. But now… now that pain was alive again.

“She has the same hair, the same eyes, the same smile,” Esme whispered, her eyes fixed firmly on the floor, as if saying it aloud made it too real. “She’s kind and funny and everything I hoped to see my daughter grow into.”

Jasper’s mind fractured in two directions. The first was understanding.

Esme, who had spent decades aching for the child she lost, had now met a girl who stirred that ache into something real. A girl who unknowingly embodied a future Esme never got to see. He understood the weight of that—understood what it was to look at someone and feel like the universe had rearranged itself around them.

The second feeling, though, was something darker. Possessiveness.

The mate bond clawed at him, warning him.

If it had been anyone other than Esme—anyone else expressing this level of attachment to his mate—he might have bristled. Might have snapped. Might have let that quiet, animalistic part of himself surge forward, baring teeth at the mere suggestion of someone claiming even a fraction of Elowen’s attention, her time, her devotion.

She is mine , that primal part of him growled. Not in a way that wanted to cage her, no. But in a way that made him wary.

Because if Esme already felt this way… what did that mean? Would Elowen feel drawn to her in return? Would Esme become a presence in her life that shifted the way she saw them all? Would she begin to feel like she belonged to them—to their family—instead of belonging to him? He swallowed down the thought before it could take root.

This is a good thing, he told himself. Calming his unrealistic primal instincts thats threatened to make him unravel.  Elowen would be more accepted into the family than she already was. If Esme felt a connection to her, then that meant she was safe.

But even so… It worried him.

“Did you talk to her for long?” Jasper asked, his voice calm—too calm. It was only slightly strained, but the tightness in his throat was unmistakable, pressing against his words like a vice.nHe knew he was being irrational. Knew he was being ridiculous. But the thought of another vampire—even Esme, even family—being around Elowen without him there made something primal and restless claw at his insides.

His rational mind knew Esme had control. Knew she had spent decades cultivating restraint, that she had never once slipped in the face of temptation.

But still . What if something had happened? What if she had miscalculated? What if that small, lingering part of Esme’s nature—the part that none of them could ever fully escape—had taken over, even for just a moment? And he wasn’t there.

Jasper’s grip on the desk tightened, his fingers pressing into the wood hard enough to leave shallow indents. He shook the thought off. Again. Alice would have warned him if she saw something bad. He knew that. He knew that.

Esme nodded, the softest of smiles curling at her lips. “We did.” Jasper’s shoulders relaxed—only slightly. “She told me about you,” Esme continued, her voice touched with something warm, knowing. “About your friendship. How much she cares about you.”

Jasper went completely still . Cares about you. The words burrowed deep, stealing the breath from his lungs. For a fleeting moment, he forgot about his worries, forgot about his fears—forgot about everything except the fact that Elowen had sat across from Esme and spoken about him. Not just in passing. Not just casually. She had told Esme—his Esme—that she cared about him. A slow warmth spread through his chest, something foreign, something terrifying, something he wanted to drown in. 

Esme, perceptive as always, let him have a moment before continuing. “She mentioned the car she’s saving up to buy. I offered to cover the rest for her, but she said no.”

Jasper chuckled, shaking his head, the sound low and amused. “She’s very stubborn.” It was true. He had offered—multiple times. Each time, Elowen had flatly refused, giving him that look of quiet determination that unraveled him every single time. She wanted to earn it herself. She wanted to prove something. So, Jasper had found a workaround. Slipping a couple of extra bills into her bookbag at school, just enough that she might think she had forgotten about them. Not enough to be suspicious—just enough to make things easier.

Esme hummed knowingly. “Yes, she is.” A pause. Then— “Would you like to invite her over sometime? I’m sure the rest of the family is getting anxious to meet her.”

Jasper exhaled slowly, leaning back against the desk. They were. Even if they hadn’t said it outright, he could feel it. Alice, normally the first to welcome someone new into their lives, had barely gotten the chance to speak with Elowen outside of their shared class, thanks to their teacher’s strict no-talking rule. Emmett was chomping at the bit, desperate to meet the girl who had somehow captured Jasper’s attention. Even Rosalie, ever the skeptic, found herself intrigued with each passing day. She pretended to be indifferent, but Jasper could feel the curiosity that itched at the edges of her mind, growing stronger every time she overheard Elowen defending them to her friends.

That was another thing. Elowen defended them. Every time some ridiculous conspiracy theory about the Cullens cropped up, she was the first to shut it down. She didn’t know the truth. But even in ignorance, she had already chosen their side. His side.

The thought made something inside of him tighten—a dangerous, possessive sort of warmth. She was perfect. 

Chapter Text

ELOWEN REED—

Elowen was positively weightless. It was the last day of school before winter break, the soft swirl of snowflakes dancing through the air, and—best of all—she finally had enough money to buy her dream car. It was the kind of happiness that hummed beneath her skin, making it impossible to stand still. She practically vibrated with excitement, bouncing on the balls of her feet, her breath coming out in little puffs of steam in the cold air.

"You’re making my stomach hurt," Lila groaned, arms crossed as she watched her best friend hop around the parking lot like an over-caffeinated pinball.

Danny snorted, shaking his head as he leaned against his car, his smile wide and amused. "Let her have her moment." Elowen didn’t need permission—she was already gone, lost in the high of pure, unfiltered joy.

"I’m getting a car today!" she sang, throwing her arms out dramatically, her voice carrying over the snow-dusted pavement. Lila barely had time to react before Elowen pounced, pressing a loud, exaggerated kiss to the top of her head before spinning away.

Danny was next—he yelped in protest, laughing as she planted a quick peck on his cheek. Then Sarah. Then Elliot. Then Anna. Each of them received the same fluttering, affectionate treatment as she practically floated between them, giddy beyond reason.

"Ugh, you’re so weird," Lila grumbled, scrubbing her hand over her head where Elowen had kissed her. "What did we do to deserve this?"

"You exist in my orbit, therefore you must suffer my affection," Elowen declared, spinning on her heel, arms wide as she tipped her head back, letting the snowflakes land cool and weightless against her flushed skin. God, everything was perfect. The snow, the break, the car—And Jasper. 

Her heart skipped, stuttered, and then took off entirely at the thought of him—of Jasper, of the way his golden eyes would soften when she spoke to him, of the way he would listen the way he always did, like every word she spoke mattered. A warmth bloomed deep in her chest, spreading outward, curling beneath her ribs like a spark catching flame. It had nothing to do with the thick layers she was bundled in and everything to do with the fact that today was the day.

Jasper had been listening to her talk about this for months. Every shift at the library over summer, every babysitting job, every single extra dollar she had tucked away—it had all been leading up to this moment. And finally, finally, she could tell him. She could see that small, knowing smirk tug at the corner of his lips, the one he always gave her when she was buzzing with excitement.

School couldn’t go by any faster.

"Alright, alright, calm down before you combust," Elliot laughed, watching as she twirled in the falling snow, her arms outstretched, head tipped back, the world spinning around her like something out of a holiday commercial.

Elowen grinned at him, breathless and bright. "Not a chance." 

JASPER HALE—-

Jasper felt her before he saw her.

Elowen’s emotions crashed into him from across the parking lot, a burst of blinding, untamed joy that hit his senses like fireworks exploding in the night sky—loud, dazzling, impossible to ignore. Excitement radiated off her in golden waves, warm and electric, wrapping around him, pulling him in before he even realized he’d taken a step in her direction.

His hands clenched at his sides. God, she was powerful.

Not in the way vampires were, not in the way strength was measured by speed or venom or the ability to tear a man apart in a fraction of a second—no, Elowen’s power was something else entirely. Something stronger. It was the way she felt everything so fiercely, so completely, without hesitation or restraint. It was in the way her emotions filled up every inch of the space around her, consuming him whole.

And Jasper? He craved it.

He glanced toward her without meaning to—drawn, helpless against the pull. She stood with her friends near the school steps, bouncing on the balls of her feet, her hands flying excitedly as she spoke. Laughter bubbled from her lips, unrestrained, unguarded, and Jasper swore he could feel the sound like a physical force, curling warm in his chest. 

His entire body ached to be near her. To step into the storm of her emotions and let them consume him. To absorb every ounce of her light, her fire, to drown in it until there was nothing left of the cold, hollow thing he had once been. 

But he stayed rooted in place. Because Elowen was still human. Because she valued her time with her friends, her family. Because, despite how badly he wanted to be at her side always, he knew she needed space.

And so, he waited. Waited for her to notice him, to meet his gaze, to seek him out. Waited for their routine, for the moment she would inevitably drift toward him, pulling him into her world like she always did.

He clenched his jaw, resisting the magnetic pull toward her. He couldn’t—shouldn’t—hover around her like some obsessive fool, even if every instinct screamed at him to do just that. 

He hated waiting. But for her? He would endure it. Instead, he remained by the school entrance, posture relaxed, eyes half-lidded, though his entire body was hyper-aware of her presence across the parking lot.

Then, a heavy force slammed into his shoulder. “Little Red get into the coffee this morning?” Emmett asked, grinning like a fool as Jasper barely moved from the impact. Too hard for a human touch, but luckily no one noticed.

Jasper exhaled through his nose, giving his brother a lazy glance. “Little Red?”

Emmett snorted, nodding toward Elowen. “C’mon, bro. Her hair’s red, it’s perfect!”

Jasper rolled his eyes, but before he could respond, Rosalie’s bored, velvet-smooth voice cut in. “A little too on the nose, don’t you think, babe?” she drawled, examining her nails like they were far more interesting than whatever nonsense was spilling out of Emmett’s mouth.

Jasper didn’t miss the way she subtly shifted her gaze toward Elowen, sizing her up. Rosalie was curious about his mate, but she’d never admit it outright. She wasn’t thrilled about the idea of Jasper getting attached to a human—none of them were, not really—but she also wasn’t hostile. She was waiting. Watching. Trying to figure out why this girl had managed to slip past their walls when no one else had.

“Oh, c’mon, she’ll love it,” Emmett insisted, flashing Rosalie his signature grin—the one that always softened her edges.

She sighed dramatically, still unimpressed. “You love it. That doesn’t mean she will.”

Emmett shrugged, undeterred. “I dunno, I think we’d get along great. She seems like she knows how to have fun.”

Jasper let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. They were all fighting over his mate, and she had no idea. Alice swore up and down that Elowen would adore her and had already claimed her as an honorary sister. Emmett, meanwhile, was convinced they were destined to be best friends, and Rosalie—well, Rosalie was still waiting to make up her mind. And all the while, Elowen remained blissfully unaware of the battle being waged over her friendship.

Jasper turned back toward the parking lot, his gaze landing on her instinctively. She was still buzzing, still glowing, still completely intoxicating.  Rosalie finally tore her gaze from her nails, arching a perfectly sculpted brow at Jasper.

 “So,” she started, voice deliberately casual, but there was an edge of curiosity beneath it, “when are you bringing your little human over to meet the family?” Here it was, the same question that had been asked hundreds of times in the last few months.  Jasper’s expression remained unreadable, but inside, his instincts bristled at the way she said your little human. His. She was his. But not yet. Not in the way he wanted.

Emmett perked up instantly. “Yeah, man! What gives? You’re always off with her, but we haven’t even gotten a proper introduction yet. I think it’s about time.”

Jasper sighed, running a hand through his hair. “She’s not ready for that.”

Rosalie scoffed. “Oh, please. It’s not like we’re asking you to tell her what we are—just bring her over to hang out  or something. You know, normal human things.”

“Yeah, c’mon, bro,” Emmett chimed in, grinning. “I promise I won’t scare her off. I’ll be so charming she won’t even know what hit her.”

Jasper snorted. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

Rosalie sighed, giving Jasper a knowing look. “You can’t keep her to yourself forever, you know.” Jasper felt his jaw tighten. The possessiveness was there, lurking just beneath his carefully controlled exterior. His mate. But she wasn’t ready—not for them, not for him, not for the things she didn’t even realize she was getting tangled up in.

Still, Rosalie was right. He couldn’t keep her separate from his family forever. And a small, selfish part of him wanted her to meet them. To see his world. To fit into it. The other part of him wanted to keep her away from everything. From their darkness from…his darkness. 

He exhaled through his nose, tilting his head slightly. “I’ll invite her over tonight.”

Emmett let out a victorious whoop, slapping Jasper on the back—hard. “Hell yeah! I’ll get the board games out.”

Jasper rolled his eyes, but Rosalie just shook her head. “Don’t overwhelm her,” she warned.

Emmett scoffed. “I am nothing if not welcoming.”

Rosalie didn’t dignify that with a response. Jasper, however, barely heard them. His thoughts were already spinning ahead, already picturing Elowen in his home, sitting in Esme’s carefully curated living room, talking to his family like she belonged there.

Because one day, she would.

But for now, he’d start with a simple invitation.

ELOWEN REED—-

Elowen could barely contain herself. As soon as Jasper slid into his seat beside her, graceful and effortless as always, she turned to him, practically vibrating with excitement. 

“Guess what?” she blurted, unable to keep the grin off her face.

Jasper arched a brow, amusement flickering in his golden eyes as he took his time settling in, too smooth, too composed, like he had all the time in the world. The playful smirk tugging at his lips made her heart do an embarrassing little flip. “What?”

“No, no—” She shook her head, bouncing slightly in her chair. “You have to guess!”

Jasper let out a low hum, tapping his chin as if he were in deep, serious thought. “Hmm… we have a pop quiz today?” Elowen’s face dropped.

“Ugh, no.” She swatted his arm, making him chuckle.

“Alright, alright,” he drawled, eyes glinting with amusement. “Let me think…” He tilted his head, deliberately dragging out the moment, and she nearly burst from anticipation. “You’re having pizza for lunch?”

She gaped at him. “What? No!” Jasper just smirked, looking far too pleased with himself. “Okay, I’ll just tell you,” she huffed, practically bouncing in her seat again. “I’m getting my car today!” Jasper’s smirk twitched, shifting into something softer, more genuine. Interested.

“You are?”

Elowen beamed. “Yes! I finally have enough, my Papa is gonna have it waiting for me when I get home after school!” Her heart pounded with excitement, the thrill of freedom already settling in her bones. No more begging for rides, no more waiting around after school. Just her, her music, and the open road. Jasper’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, something unreadable flickering in his expression. Then—a rare sight. A real smile.

“That’s amazing, I’m happy for you,” he said, voice smooth and warm. “You’ll have to take me for a ride sometime.” Elowen’s stomach flipped. Way worse than before.

“Yeah,” she murmured, swallowing. “Yeah, I guess I will.”

“Well, actually—” Jasper cleared his throat, shifting slightly in his seat. “I was thinking… maybe you might want to come over tonight.”

Elowen blinked. Oh. Her lips parted, caught off guard, but before she could form a proper response, Jasper continued.

“My family is leaving for winter break tomorrow,” he explained, his smooth drawl even and composed. “We won’t be back until New Year’s Eve, so I thought it might be nice to spend some time together. You know, outside these walls.” He gestured lazily toward their cinderblock classroom, the peeling paint and god-awful fluorescent lights buzzing faintly overhead.

She let out a small, breathy laugh, but the nerves were already curling in her stomach. “Yeah… okay,” she said, quieter now.

His house. His family. The thought sent a nervous energy rushing through her veins. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to meet them—she did. But the idea of stepping into his world felt daunting in a way she couldn’t quite put into words. She wasn’t just meeting any family—she was meeting Jasper’s family.

But then, just as quickly as the unease came, something else washed over her.  A soft, subtle calm. Her shoulders unclenched. Her nerves mellowed. It was like someone had plucked the stress right out of her body, leaving only warmth in its wake. It was… odd.

It always happened around Jasper.

He had this way of making her feel lighter, even when she should be spiraling. She questioned it before, but always ended up chalking it up to his presence—his quiet steadiness, his unwavering ease. Still, the sensation left a strange tingle in her chest.

She pushed the thought aside, tucking a loose strand of red hair behind her ear. “I can bring my car and show you,” she added, latching onto something normal to ground herself.

Jasper’s smirk widened, smug and satisfied, like he had just won some kind of silent victory. “That would be great.”

Then, his expression softened—just slightly. “And I know Esme was really looking forward to talking to you some more.”

Elowen blinked, tilting her head. “She was?”

She liked Esme. She was warm, kind, endlessly patient. Talking to her felt like curling up in a sunlit kitchen with a cup of tea—safe, gentle.

But Esme also made her feel sad in a way. She reminded her of something—someone. Or maybe, she reminded Elowen of something she had always wished for but never had. Esme was everything her mother could have been—should have been. Everything she might have been if she had never gotten married, never been worn down by life, never let pain replace the love she was supposed to give.

Elowen swallowed, pushing the thought away. “Well, I guess I better not disappoint her then,” she said, forcing a small smile.

Jasper’s eyes lingered on her for a beat too long, like he knew she was deflecting. Like he felt it. But if he did, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he just nodded, that ever-present smirk still ghosting at the corners of his lips. “No,” he murmured. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

The rest of the school day blurred together, a hazy whirlwind of lectures and half-hearted note-taking. Each class bled into the next, the voices of teachers droning like background static, until the final bell shattered the monotony. She was gone before anyone could blink, slipping out the door without so much as a backward glance. She didn’t even stop to say goodbye to Jasper or her friends—not that they minded. How could they?

Her new car was all she had talked about all day. That, and the invitation to Jasper’s house. Lila had practically been vibrating with excitement on her behalf, already demanding text messages and every last detail the moment she got home. Danny, on the other hand, had been less than enthusiastic. But then again, Danny was never enthusiastic when it came to Jasper.

None of that mattered now. The plan was set: go home, have dinner with her grandparents, spend some time marveling at her new car, and then, at 7:30 sharp, head to Jasper’s house.

Her mind raced, thoughts tumbling over each other in an anxious, giddy spiral. What was she supposed to wear? Did it even matter? Should she bring something? Her Nana always said you should never show up to someone’s house empty-handed. But what could she possibly offer a family who already had everything?

Before she could overthink herself into a frenzy, the familiar rumble of her Papa’s old Ford pickup rolled into the parking lot. She spotted the dented truck immediately, its rusted bumper and sun-faded paint as familiar as the scent of sawdust and motor oil that always clung to her Papa’s flannel shirts. She barely waited for the truck to stop before lunging forward, yanking open the passenger door and clambering inside, the worn-out leather seat squeaking beneath her.

Her breath came quick, excitement crackling under her skin like static electricity.

“You ready, Dovie?” her Papa asked, his voice rich with amusement. His deep brown eyes crinkled at the corners as he took in her barely-contained energy.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” she practically shouted, bouncing in her seat.

Gideon chuckled, shaking his head fondly as he eased the truck out of the parking lot. “Well, alright then.”

“How’d it go when you picked it up?? How does it look?!” Her knee bounced restlessly as she waited, her pulse thudding in her ears. 

“Slow down, Dove. Everything went good. Sam said it just has a small oil leak, needs new brake pads, and one of the back tires is a little low—but other than that, it runs great.” A rush of relief flooded through her, so strong she exhaled it in a single breath. “ It looks good too. I reckon we can get you a couple seat covers for the inside. The upholstery’s seen better days, but that’s nothing we can’t fix.” 

Elowen grinned, gripping her bag on her lap so tightly her knuckles ached. Her whole body thrummed with restless, uncontainable joy. 

As Gideon’s truck rumbled up the long gravel driveway, Elowen spotted it instantly.

Her breath caught.

There, parked right beside the barn, was her car.

A 1960 Volkswagen Beetle, its once-white paint now faded into something softer, almost the color of old parchment or heavy cream. The years had worn it down, leaving behind faint patches of rust along the wheel wells and a few sun-faded streaks on the hood. It wasn’t pristine, wasn’t perfect—but to Elowen, it was beautiful.

She practically threw the truck door open before Gideon had even shifted into park. Gravel crunched beneath her boots as she bolted forward, her heart hammering like it might burst straight from her chest.

Up close, the Beetle was even more charming in its imperfections. Its rounded headlights, slightly fogged from age, gave it a sleepy, almost bashful expression. A tiny crack spiderwebbed from the bottom corner of the windshield, like a faded scar on an old friend’s face. The chrome bumpers were dulled with time, streaked with fingerprints and smudges where someone—probably Sam—had wiped them down.

The passenger-side mirror was missing. The tires were a little low. The cloth interior, visible through the oval-shaped back window, was frayed at the edges, seams splitting in places where time and use had worn them thin.

But none of that mattered. Because it was hers.

Elowen ran a reverent hand along the curve of the driver’s side door, her fingers tingling as they traced over the cool metal. The handle was different from modern cars—small, simple, the kind you had to pull up rather than out. She hesitated for half a second before gripping it and giving it a firm tug.

The door groaned in protest but swung open, revealing the inside—musty, but not unpleasant, with the distinct scent of aged vinyl and a lingering hint of gasoline. The steering wheel was large and thin, almost delicate compared to the thick, modern ones she was used to. The dashboard was simple, just a few knobs and dials, and the speedometer sat right in the center, its faded numbers a whisper of the past. She exhaled, pressing a hand to her chest, as if trying to steady her racing heart.

Behind her, Gideon chuckled, stepping out of the truck with his hands on his hips. “Well? What do you think?”

Elowen turned, grinning so wide her cheeks ached. “She’s perfect.”

Gideon shook his head, amused. “She’s got character, that’s for sure.” He nodded toward the cracked windshield. “We’ll have to fix that before you drive it too far. And those brakes—”

“I don’t care,” Elowen interrupted, running her hands over the cracked leather seat before settling behind the wheel. The seat creaked beneath her weight, but she barely noticed. Her fingers curled around the thin steering wheel, and for the first time, it truly hit her.

This was hers. Her freedom. Her adventure waiting to happen.

Gideon knocked on the roof, the metal letting out a soft thunk beneath his knuckles. “Well, go on then. Turn her on.”

Elowen’s stomach flipped as she reached for the key already waiting in the ignition. She swallowed, turned it, and— The engine coughed once, sputtered, and fell silent.

Gideon snorted. “Try again, Dove. She’s just waking up.”

Elowen bit her lip, turned the key again, and this time— The engine rumbled to life, shaky at first, then settling into a low, steady purr. She beamed, gripping the wheel tighter.

The low, steady purr of the engine filled Elowen’s ears, vibrating through the thin metal frame of the Beetle. She could feel it—beneath her fingertips on the wheel, in the soles of her boots against the pedals. It was old, it was imperfect, but it was alive.

She turned to Gideon, her heart hammering. “Can I—?”

He was already nodding. “Yeah, let’s take her out.” She could have hugged him right then and there, but her hands were too busy gripping the wheel like it might disappear if she let go. Instead, she exhaled sharply and turned her focus back to the dashboard, eyes flicking over the unfamiliar layout.

The clutch. The stick shift. The gas. Alright. She could do this. She didn’t have much practice driving a manual but her grandfather had taught her. 

Gideon climbed into the passenger seat, his movements slow and easy, like he had all the time in the world. He settled in with a grunt, adjusting his cap before glancing over at her. “You remember what I taught you?”

Elowen nodded, even though her palms were slick with sweat. “Yeah.”

“Alright, then.” He reached for the seatbelt, pulling it across his chest with a click. “Let’s see what you got.” She took a steadying breath and pressed in the clutch with her left foot, shifting into first gear. The stick wobbled slightly in her grip, but she tightened her fingers around it, determined. Slowly, she eased her foot off the clutch and onto the gas.

The car jerked forward. Then immediately stalled. Elowen smacked her forehead against the wheel with a groan. “Dammit.”

Gideon only laughed, patting the dashboard like he was reassuring an old dog. “She’s a little temperamental, but she’ll come around. Try again—gentler this time.”

She inhaled through her nose, straightened up, and tried again. This time, she feathered the gas a little slower, easing off the clutch in a smoother motion. The car rolled forward. A laugh burst from her throat—half excitement, half disbelief. “I did it!”

Gideon chuckled. “Ain’t over yet, Dove. Let’s see if you can get us around the block without givin’ me whiplash.”

She grinned, rolling onto the dirt road that led away from the house. Gravel crunched beneath the tires as she carefully shifted into second gear, the Beetle humming beneath her like it was waking up from a long sleep. The wind slipped in through the half-cracked windows, cool against her flushed cheeks, carrying with it the scent of cut grass and wet earth. The scent of her town. 

The road ahead stretched out like possibility itself. She pressed the gas a little harder. The car responded—not perfectly, not smoothly, but enough. The house shrank behind them, the wooden fence line blurring past as she turned onto the quiet, two-lane road that looped around the neighborhood. The sun was low now, dipping behind the trees, streaking the sky in amber and rose clouds.

She risked a glance at her grandfather. His arm rested against the open window, a small smile tugging at his weathered face as he watched her, his eyes warm with something she couldn’t quite name. Pride, maybe. Or maybe just love. She turned her attention back to the road, grinning so hard her face hurt.

“Dovie,” Gideon said after a moment, voice thoughtful, “I think you just found yourself a new set of wings.” Elowen laughed, rolling down the window all the way, letting the wind rush in, letting the evening air wrap around her like freedom itself. Maybe she had.

As they rolled back into the driveway, the setting sun shifted underneath a blanket of clouds. The Beetle’s engine sputtered as Elowen eased it to a stop, the air buzzing with the lingering excitement of the day.

Waiting for them on the front porch was Lucille, one hand perched firmly on her hip, the other holding a hand towel that had long since lost its original shape. A fine dusting of flour clung to the front of her faded blue apron, smudges of it streaking across her forearms where she had likely wiped her hands in a rush.

As they pulled in, she lifted the towel and gave it a lazy wave, but there was no mistaking the unimpressed tilt of her head.

Elowen practically leapt out of the car, beaming. “What do you think, Nana?”

Lucille let out a long-suffering sigh, eyeing the old Beetle like it was a stray dog Elowen had dragged home from the roadside. “Looks like a death trap to me.” She shook her head, frowning at the rust spots along the fender. “I wish you would’a let us buy you somethin’ a little newer.”

Elowen gasped in mock horror, dramatically throwing herself against the hood, arms outstretched as if shielding the car from any further insults. “Nana!” she scolded, pressing a hand to the metal like it was a wounded animal. “She can hear you!”

Gideon, stepping out of the passenger side with a knowing chuckle, smirked as he joined them looking at his wife. “You’re gonna hurt the little Bug’s feelings, Lucy.”

Lucille scoffed, flapping the towel at him like she might swat some sense into both of them. “Oh, you two.” She shook her head, huffing as she turned back toward the house, muttering something under her breath about “stubborn fools” and “that thing breaking down before the week is out.”

Elowen and Gideon shared a look, barely holding it together as they watched Lucille disappear inside. The second the screen door clapped shut behind her— Laughter exploded between them, deep and full and warm, the kind of laughter that bubbled up from somewhere unshakable. Elowen clutched her stomach, breathless, eyes shining.

Chapter Text

ELOWEN POV —

The drive to the Cullens’ house wasn’t usually long—just a short stretch of winding roads and towering evergreens between her neighborhood and theirs—but tonight, Elowen took the scenic route.

She had left home early, too early, in anticipation of stopping by the store to pick up a bouquet of flowers for Esme. A small gesture, but an important one. Her Nana had always told her that you should never show up to someone’s house empty-handed, and if anyone deserved flowers, it was Esme. But the errand hadn’t taken as long as she expected.

Now, with at least twenty extra minutes to kill, she let her bug roll leisurely down the back roads, the hum of the engine a steady companion against the quiet hush of the forest. The towering trees blurred past her window, their silhouettes stark against the deepening twilight. She drummed her fingers against the steering wheel, torn between impatience and nerves.

She didn’t want to be too early. Showing up right on time was polite. Showing up early made her look… too eager. And for some reason, the idea of appearing overeager around Jasper—around his family—made her stomach twist in knots she didn’t quite understand. So she took her time, winding aimlessly down roads she knew by heart, prolonging the inevitable—though she wasn’t sure why.

As Elowen steered her car up the long, winding driveway, an unshakable tension coiled deep in her stomach, tightening like a snake preparing to strike. It wasn’t fear—not exactly—but something close. Something that crawled beneath her skin, whispering warnings she couldn't quite decipher. She cut the engine, fingers tightening around the steering wheel as she inhaled sharply, trying to steady herself. The silence inside the car felt suffocating, pressing in on her like a held breath.

It’s just Jasper and his family. That’s what she told herself. Over and over. A mantra meant to soothe. But she wasn’t sure she believed it. Because Jasper and his family weren’t just anything. They were perfect. Too perfect.

Not in the way of movie stars or models—where beauty came with subtle imperfections that made it human. No, the Cullens were something else entirely. Otherworldly. Their faces, eerily flawless, carried an almost sculpted symmetry, as if carved from marble rather than born of flesh and blood. Their movements were impossibly fluid, too smooth to be natural, too effortless to belong to this world.

Elowen had spent countless nights trying to rationalize it, convincing herself that it was simply good genetics, a rare stroke of fortune. But the truth gnawed at her. It wasn’t just good genes. They weren’t even related by blood. And yet, they still shared that same ethereal beauty—every single one of them. As if something unseen bound them together, something unnatural.

Even Dr. Cullen, the elusive patriarch she had never met, was spoken of in hushed voices, described with the same unnerving perfection. Striking. Beautiful. Almost too refined.

A shiver traced down her spine as she loosened her grip on the wheel, only to tighten her fingers around the keys in her lap. It didn’t add up.

The Cullens were private—almost unnervingly so. They existed on the fringes of social life, orbiting the town without ever truly touching it. No parties. No school events. No casual friendships. They spoke only to one another—except for her.

And even that was limited. Jasper. Alice. Esme. Three out of seven. That was all she was allowed to know, the only ones who ever spoke to her. The rest remained distant, watching from afar, studying her with eyes too sharp, too assessing. As if she were a puzzle they hadn’t yet decided how to solve.

She had ignored the oddities before, written them off as quirks, as coincidences. Ignored her friends' sharp questions and the gossip around school. 

But lately… Lately, she wasn’t so sure.

She shook her head, as if physically dislodging the swirling thoughts from her mind. No. She was overthinking. Letting her nerves get the best of her. Jasper had been nothing but kind from the moment they met—gentle, composed, always watching her with an unreadable yet seemingly warm gaze. And Alice, though her energy sometimes bordered on overwhelming, had reached out with a sincerity that felt real, her desire for friendship undeniable. Then there was Esme, the quiet matriarch, whose devotion to the community was evident in the hours she spent volunteering at the food bank.

So they were a little odd. But wasn’t everyone? They were just different. And Elowen liked different. With a deep breath, she gave herself a final, resolute nod, pushing the last remnants of doubt aside. Her mind felt clearer now, the rapid thrum of her thoughts settling into something steady. She tightened her grip on the bouquet of flowers and stepped out of the car.

The moment her feet touched the gravel, Jasper was already moving.

“You made it,” he said, a slow, easy grin spreading across his face. He descended the steps with an effortless grace, his movements too smooth, too precise—like a dancer who never missed a step.

Trailing behind him were two of his siblings.

The first was the big guy Emmett, and big guy wasn’t an overstatement. He was massive, towering over her by at least a foot, maybe more. His frame was broad, all corded muscle beneath a deceptively relaxed stance. Dark, short curls framed his chiseled face, and like the others, his golden eyes caught the light in a way that almost seemed unnatural.

Then there was Rosalie.

Elowen had seen her in the hallways at school before—an untouchable vision of perfection, gliding through the crowd like she belonged to another realm entirely. Up close, she was even more breathtaking. Her features were sculpted, her golden hair cascading over her shoulders in soft waves, framing a face so symmetrical, so flawless, it was almost dizzying to look at. She wasn’t just beautiful; she was unreal—as if she had stepped straight from the glossy pages of a magazine, untouched by imperfection, untarnished by time.

Elowen swallowed, forcing herself to stand straighter, to steady herself against the overwhelming presence of the three before her. The Cullens were different. That much was undeniable. And yet, she was here.

“Yeah,” Elowen said breathlessly, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, suddenly hyper aware of how small she felt standing in front of them.

“Hey, I’m Emmett,” he announced, stepping forward with a broad grin and an outstretched hand, his presence practically radiating warmth—well, metaphorically, because his actual skin, she quickly learned, was just as icy as Jasper’s. Elowen glanced at Jasper, who was watching with a lazy smirk, clearly enjoying her mild discomfort. Traitor.

Still, she met Emmett halfway, placing her hand in his absurdly large one, the size difference almost comical. His grip was firm but not crushing, though she barely had time to process the handshake before—

Oh. Oh, God.

Without warning, Emmett yanked her forward, her entire body slamming into his with the force of someone who clearly didn’t know his own strength. Or maybe he did and just didn’t care. Elowen felt like she had just crashed into a brick wall wrapped in a sweatshirt, but before she could even think about protesting, his arms were already locked around her in a crushing bear hug.

“C’mere!” he boomed, his voice vibrating against her ear. “I’ve heard so much about you. Hell, feels like I already know you.”

She let out a strangled sound—part shock, part amusement—as her arms awkwardly hovered in the air, unsure of where to put them. This was… not what she expected. At all.

She had built the Cullens up in her head as these untouchable, ethereal beings—mysterious, elegant, intimidating . But here was Emmett, a literal tank of a man, crushing her in a hug like she was a long-lost sibling at a family reunion. It was ridiculous. It was unexpected. And, honestly? It was kind of hilarious.

A laugh bubbled up in her throat before she could stop it, slipping out as more of a breathless wheeze. “Oh my God, I—okay. Hi. Yep. Nice to meet you, too.” She patted his back. 

She could hear Jasper shaking with laughter behind her. Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Emmett finally loosened his grip, but instead of stepping back, he held her at arm’s length, hands still gripping her shoulders as he beamed down at her like a golden retriever who had just discovered his new favorite toy.

“You’re smaller than I thought,” he mused, tilting his head.

She scoffed, still catching her breath. “Gee, thanks?”

He only laughed, giving her a playful but still entirely too powerful)pat on the shoulder. “I like you already.” Yeah. This was going to be interesting.

“All right, Emmett, don’t overwhelm her,” Jasper finally intervened, his tone smooth with quiet amusement. He stepped forward, his hand pressing lightly against the small of Elowen’s back. Her breath hitched at the contact. It wasn’t much—just the faintest touch through her sweater—but it was enough to root her in place. His hand was cool, steady, grounding. Yet it made her pulse stutter.

Jasper motioned toward Rosalie, who stood slightly apart from them, arms crossed, watching with a look of thinly veiled boredom. “And this is my sister, Rosalie.”

Elowen swallowed and forced herself to meet Rosalie’s gaze. Bad idea. Rosalie was intimidatingly perfect. Tall, poised, the kind of striking beauty that felt almost unfair . And those golden eyes—sharp, assessing, like they saw more than they should.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you,” Elowen stammered, cursing herself for how unsure she sounded. Rosalie didn’t immediately respond, just watched her in a way that made Elowen want to fidget. Then, at the very last second, the faintest smirk flickered across her lips.

“I suppose we’ll see,” she said simply. Elowen had no idea what that meant, but before she could spiral, Emmett threw a heavy arm around her shoulders, nearly knocking the air out of her.

“Don’t mind her,” he said with a grin. “She just likes to pretend she’s scarier than she is.”

Rosalie rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. Still half-trapped under Emmett’s weight, Elowen glanced back at her car. Her baby.

“Well,” she exhaled, wriggling free, “before we go inside, can I show you something?” She said meekly. 

“If you killed someone dont worry, we can cover it up–no problem,” Emmett grinned widely following his booming laughter.

She huffed a laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She stepped aside, motioning grandly to the faded Volkswagen Beetle parked down  the driveway closer to the road. It was a 1960s model, round headlights, chrome  bumpers—a classic in every sense of the word.

“Look Jasper,” she said, patting the hood affectionately. “It still needs work, obviously, but—” 

“You just got this?” It wasn’t Jasper who spoke. Elowen turned, startled by the sudden shift in Rosalie’s expression. The bored disinterest was gone, replaced by something that looked a lot like… excitement? Rosalie strode forward, her eyes lighting up in a way Elowen hadn’t seen before. She ran a hand along the car’s curve, fingers ghosting over the chipped paint, the worn edges.

“This is a classic ,” she murmured, almost reverently.

Elowen blinked. “Uh. Yeah?”

“1960s Beetle.” Rosalie grinned, an actual grin, and it was gorgeous. “This is the car. Simple, reliable—when it’s running right, anyway. Gorgeous frame. What’s wrong with it?”

Emmett snorted. “What’s not wrong with it? It looks like a death trap on wheels.” 

“Hey!” Elowen laughed. “Okay, that might be fair. It’s got an oil leak, the brake pads need replacing, the windshield is cracked, and one of the tires is low.” Jasper’s expression shifted in an instant. The easy amusement from moments ago vanished, replaced by something sharper, heavier. His posture stiffened, golden eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made Elowen’s stomach flip.

“It has bad brake pads?” His voice was low, edged with something dangerously close to alarm. He took a step toward her, his presence suddenly overwhelming, his brows furrowing as his gaze flickered from her face to the car and back again.

“Elowen, you shouldn’t have driven it here,” he said, his voice tighter now, more urgent. “What if something happened?”

Elowen blinked up at him, caught between surprise and the strange, unfamiliar feeling of someone being this openly concerned for her. She shrugged, forcing a casual tone even though his scrutiny made her pulse stutter. “Well… I’m here, aren’t I?”

Jasper’s jaw tightened. That clearly wasn’t the answer he wanted. His eyes swept over her again, as if checking for any sign of injury, any proof that she had nearly died without realizing it. The air between them felt thick, charged, like the quiet before a storm.

And then— “Oh, for God’s sake,” Rosalie huffed, throwing her hands in the air dramatically. “She’s fine, Jasper. The car , however, is another story.” Already, she was circling the Beetle, fingers grazing the metal, eyes scanning every dent, every imperfection like she was taking inventory.

“This thing is a death trap ,” she muttered, ducking down to inspect the low back tire. “But it’s fixable.” She straightened, flicking her hair over her shoulder with purpose. “I can fix it.”

Elowen blinked. “Wait, really?”

Rosalie arched a brow. “Obviously.”

Jasper didn’t move. He was still watching Elowen, still standing too close, his brows drawn together in something between frustration and relief. Jasper exhaled, but it wasn’t quite a sigh—it was tension slowly unraveling, piece by piece.

“Next time,” Jasper said quietly, his voice steady but laced with something undeniably firm, “just—tell me. I’ll drive you.” Elowen’s breath caught. There was no teasing in his tone, no room for argument. Just certainty. A promise. She swallowed and gave a small nod, unsure if she trusted herself to speak.

Before the moment could settle, Emmett’s massive hands clapped down on Jasper’s shoulders, shaking him slightly with effortless strength. “Don’t worry, Jazz,” he said with a grin. “Rose’ll make sure Little Red has a safe car.”

Elowen’s brows shot up. “Little Red?” she repeated, amusement flickering across her face.

Emmett winked. “You know, ‘cause of the hair.”

She let out a small, incredulous laugh. “Great. A nickname already. I should’ve known.”

Rosalie, still circling the Beetle like a predator inspecting prey, didn’t acknowledge the exchange. She was already focused, already calculating. “Oh yeah, this’ll be an easy one.” 

Elowen turned back to her, hesitant. “That’s really nice of you, Rosalie, but…” She chewed her lip, gaze flickering toward the absolute mansion towering behind them before dropping back to the ground. “I, uh… I don’t have any money to pay you. Or for parts. I sort of spent everything I had just buying it.”

Rosalie snorted, a sharp, unimpressed sound. “I don’t want your money.” She popped the hood with practiced ease, the move so smooth it was almost elegant. She glanced over at Elowen, a rare glimmer of genuine enthusiasm sparking in her golden eyes. “Besides, it would be a travesty to leave this beauty in this condition.”

Elowen watched as Rosalie leaned over the engine, assessing it like a surgeon preparing for an operation. “You’re lucky,” Rosalie continued, pulling back just enough to meet Elowen’s gaze. “Beetles are stupidly easy to work on. And I just so happen to have extra parts lying around.” She tilted her head, a challenge in her expression. “So—do you want the help or not?”

Elowen didn’t hesitate this time. She grinned. Wide. “Yes, please. Thank you.”

Rosalie’s smirk deepened. “Good choice.”

“C’mon let's head in,” Jasper murmured, “The others are waiting.” Elowen took in a deep breath as she followed in step. The others . 

JASPER HALE — 

Rosalie had warmed to Elowen faster than Jasper had expected—all thanks to the old car. If there was one thing that could shift Rosalie from a sharp-edged storm to something almost soft, it was a project. She thrived on precision, control, creation—the satisfaction of taking something broken and making it whole again. And this time, it wasn’t just about the car. This time, it was about Elowen.

Rosalie, for all her cool detachment, felt something toward her. A sense of kinship, subtle but unmistakable in her emotions. Maybe it was because Elowen was Jasper’s mate, or maybe it was something deeper, something unspoken—something undeniable.

Jasper had noticed it almost immediately—the way Rosalie’s usual sharpness softened around Elowen, the way her careful hands worked with just a little more purpose. Not just to restore, but to protect. She would never say it outright. But the intent was there.

Jasper exhaled quietly, watching the two of them. If he had Edward’s ability, maybe he could get to the bottom of it—understand the exact shape of Rosalie’s thoughts, the reason behind her shift. But he didn’t need to read minds to know this much: Rosalie would keep Elowen safe. And that was all that mattered.

As they stepped into the house, Jasper let his attention drift—not to the grandeur of the home, not to the familiar scent of polished wood and aged books, but to Elowen’s voice. She and Rosalie spoke in measured tones, their conversation unfolding slowly, unrushed, like a well-paced waltz. Elowen spoke of the car’s past, of how she had watched it for years, sitting untouched at her family friend’s house, collecting dust, forgotten. She had wanted to give it another life.

She said it so gently, with such soft reverence, that if one hadn’t been paying attention to the words themselves, they might have thought she was speaking of something else entirely—not rusted metal and worn leather, but a living, breathing thing. It was fascinating. There was a quiet sort of devotion in the way she spoke, a certain grace that made Jasper’s chest tighten in a way he couldn’t quite place.

Rosalie, for her part, listened with a rare kind of patience, nodding along, occasionally throwing in a remark about how too many people let classics rot away when they deserved better.

Then, after a moment of hesitation, Elowen spoke again. “I could help you fix it up,” she offered tentatively, shifting her weight slightly. “I mean, if you don’t mind. I wouldn’t want to get in your way or anything, but… I’d like to learn.”

Rosalie stopped, tilting her head, one perfect brow arching in surprise. “Really?”

Elowen nodded, the flicker of uncertainty in her expression quickly replaced by something steadier, more sure. “Yeah,” she said, firmer this time. “I would like to be capable enough to fix it up if something happened you know? I don’t want to have to rely on anyone else.” 

Jasper felt the shift in the air—the exact moment Rosalie’s guarded exterior cracked just a little, the moment curiosity replaced skepticism. And for the first time in a long time, Rosalie smiled—not a smirk, not a knowing little curve of her lips, but something real. And Jasper knew, without question, that Elowen had just won her over completely.

As soon as Esme and Carlisle entered the room, a ripple of emotion hit Jasper like a slow-building wave—nostalgia, aching sorrow wrapped in warmth. It poured from Esme in delicate but unrelenting currents, her love so deep it ached.

“Oh, Elowen,” Esme said softly, her voice carrying a tenderness that only deepened the bittersweet emotions swirling around her. She was seeing someone else in Elowen, a memory layered over reality, and the weight of it settled in Jasper's chest like a stone.

Elowen, oblivious to the raw grief and love surging beneath Esme’s composed exterior, turned from Rosalie with a small smile. “Hi Esme,” she greeted, allowing Esme to pull her into an embrace.

The moment their arms wrapped around each other, Esme’s emotions sharpened, the sorrow momentarily eclipsed by something else—something desperate, grateful. The kind of love that clings to the edges of a wound, never quite healing. Jasper swallowed, forcing himself to stay steady as the depth of it threatened to pull me under.

Then, Elowen held out a bouquet, delicate and carefully chosen—daphne, primrose, and snowdrops. “These are for you,” she said. Esme’s face softened, but the storm inside her intensified, swelling with a heartbreaking mixture of joy and grief. Jasper felt the memory stir in her—an echo of another pair of hands once offering flowers, another voice speaking with the same quiet kindness.

“Thank you,” Esme said, her voice unwavering despite the torrent of emotion beneath. “These are beautiful.” And though Elowen didn’t realize it, she had just given Esme a piece of something she lost long ago.

Jasper stepped forward, steadying himself against the lingering weight of Esme’s emotions. The room felt thick with them, a quiet undercurrent of longing and love that only I could truly feel. But I forced my focus back to the present, to the moment unfolding before us.

“Elowen, I’d like you to meet my father, Carlisle,” I said, my voice smooth but deliberate.

Elowen turned toward him, her expression polite but laced with curiosity. Carlisle, ever the picture of composed kindness, stepped forward with an easy grace. His golden eyes held warmth, but beneath the surface, Jasper could feel the measured way he studied her—assessing, understanding.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Elowen,” Carlisle said, his voice as gentle as always, rich with quiet wisdom.

Elowen hesitated only a moment before offering a small smile. “It’s nice to meet you too, Dr. Cullen,” she replied kindly. 

Carlisle chuckled, a light sound. “Please, just Carlisle.” A flicker of uncertainty passed through Elowen, barely noticeable to anyone but Jasper. There was something guarded in her, a natural wariness, like she wasn’t quite used to kindness without condition. Jasper could feel the way she was keeping herself carefully measured, as if not wanting to take up too much space.

Carlisle noticed, too, though he said nothing. Instead, he simply smiled in that understanding way of his—the same way he had welcomed all of them at one time or another. “I hope you find yourself at home here,” he said, sincerity woven into every word. “I know it can be overwhelming at first, but you’re among family now.”

The word family lingered in the air, and for the first time, a crack formed in Elowen’s guarded exterior. It was small—just a flicker of something behind her eyes, something hesitant but hopeful. Esme, still holding onto the bouquet as if it were something precious, placed a gentle hand on Elowen’s arm, her emotions swelling again, this time with unspoken reassurance.

Elowen blinked, shifting her weight slightly. “Thank you,” she said, and though the words were quiet, there was something genuine in them. Jasper stood back, absorbing the emotions filling the room—Esme’s quiet devotion, Carlisle’s steady warmth, Elowen’s tentative trust. This was a beginning. She didn’t know it yet, but she was already becoming part of something bigger than herself.

The peaceful hum of conversation in the house was shattered as Emmett’s booming voice echoed off the walls. “ Dude, the game is on! ” Elowen jumped slightly at the sudden outburst, her sharp reflexes betraying the fact that she hadn’t been expecting the interruption. Jasper felt the shift in her emotions—confusion, a flicker of curiosity—but no irritation. She was used to adapting, used to rolling with unexpected moments.

“Game?” she asked, tilting her head slightly, her voice calm but edged with intrigue as she turned to Emmett for an answer.

Emmett grinned, practically vibrating with excitement. “The Browns and the Broncos,” he announced, as if that should explain everything. To Jasper’s surprise, a surge of excitement pulsed through Elowen—not the polite kind, but real excitement. His brows furrowed slightly. He had expected indifference, maybe even mild amusement at Emmett’s enthusiasm. But this? This was genuine .

“What? You’re kidding,” Elowen said, her expression shifting in an instant. “I thought they played at three today.”

Emmett’s grin stretched even wider. “Nah, got pushed back ‘cause of the weather. It’s starting now . I’m putting it on.”

Without hesitation, Elowen’s lips quirked into a smirk. “Do you mind if I watch with you?”

The room froze. Jasper and Emmett exchanged a look before blurting out in unison, “You like football?” How did he not know this? He thought he knew everything about his mate and yet here she was still surprising him. 

Elowen suddenly looked almost shy, as if admitting to some deep secret. She nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah,” she admitted, her voice softer now, but there was no mistaking the warmth behind it. “I watch every game I can with my Papa.” Jasper felt it then—the deep, unwavering connection behind those words. Nostalgia. Love. A sense of comfort wrapped in tradition.

Emmett gaped at her for a moment before throwing his head back with a laugh. “ Little Red, Little Red, ” he chanted, shaking his head in disbelief. “You just keep gettin’ better and better.”

Before she could react, he slung a heavy arm around her shoulders, pulling her along like they’d been best friends for years. “C’mon, you’re sittin’ next to me. We’re about to see if the Browns can finally get their act together.”

“I doubt it,” Elowen snorted playfully. Jasper watched as Elowen allowed herself to be dragged along, a small, amused smile playing on her lips. The guarded tension she usually carried had loosened, just a little. She fit in more than she realized. And that? That surprised all of them.

As Elowen and Emmett disappeared into the TV room, their voices fading into the sounds of pre-game commentary, Alice suddenly arrived in a blur, Edward right beside her. Her usual bright expression of excitement was palpable—until it wasn’t. The moment she scanned the room, her face dropped, her golden eyes darting around as if someone had just yanked the future right out from under her.

“Where’s Elowen?” she demanded, her voice sharp with urgency.

Rosalie, lounging effortlessly on the arm of the couch, let out a snort of amusement. “Emmett just stole her.”

Alice gasped, clutching her hands dramatically to her chest. “What?!” she cried, looking genuinely scandalized. “No. No, no, no. We were supposed to talk shoes! I—I saw it!”

“Snooze, and you lose,” Rosalie responded with an elegant shrug, running her fingers through her golden waves as if the whole thing amused her far too much.

Alice stomped her foot, the movement light but filled with frustration. “This is all wrong,” she groaned, practically vibrating where she stood.

Edward, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed, chuckled. “Alice, I did try to warn you.” His tone was smooth, mildly amused. “The moment Emmett realized she liked football, you never stood a chance.”

Alice shot him a glare. “And you let it happen?!”

Edward smirked. “I thought it would be entertaining.” Alice huffed through her nose, crossing her arms tightly over her chest like a child denied a promised toy.

“Don’t worry, Alice,” Carlisle said in his usual soothing voice, a calm contrast to Alice’s mounting distress. “I’m sure there’s plenty of time for you and Elowen to talk about shoes.”

Alice pursed her lips, tapping her foot impatiently. “I had the perfect conversation planned,” she muttered. “It was going to be magical.”

Rosalie rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, football happened.”

“ Football ,” She groaned with disgust. She exhaled dramatically, turning on her heel. “Fine. I’ll wait. But when she’s done, I will be borrowing her.” Edward chuckled again as she flounced off, already scheming her next move. Jasper, who had been silent up until now, just shook his head, feeling Alice’s exasperation like static in the air.

“Elowen doesn’t even realize she’s got a war waging over her,” he murmured.

Edward smirked. “She will soon enough.”

ELOWEN REED  —

The TV room was alive with energy, the glow of the screen casting flickering light across the space as the game unfolded in real time. Elowen sat forward on the edge of the couch, her fingers gripping the fabric beneath her as the play developed. The tension in the air was thick, the kind that sent adrenaline pumping through her veins.

And then— it happened.

“Interception!!” she shouted, bolting upright as the defensive back snatched the ball out of the air. “Run, run!” Her voice was electric, filled with urgency as she jumped closer to the screen, her eyes locked onto the player weaving through defenders.

Beside her, Emmett was on his feet, fists clenched with excitement. “He’s gonna do it, he’s gonna do it!” he boomed, practically vibrating with joy.

The player dodged left, broke a tackle—Elowen sucked in a breath—then cut right, sprinting down the field with nothing but open grass ahead. The crowd on the screen erupted, but it was nothing compared to the reaction in the room.

“Go, go, gooo!” Emmett bellowed, bouncing on his heels like a kid on Christmas morning.

Elowen clapped her hands together before throwing them in the air. “Come on, don’t slow down—YES!” The player crossed the goal line just as the defense collapsed behind him. Touchdown. The stadium on screen exploded with cheers, but inside the Cullen house, it was chaos.

“We’re going into overtime!” Emmett whooped, grabbing Elowen’s shoulders and giving her an excited shake. “Little Red, you’re my good luck charm!” he declared, grinning wildly. “That was sick!”

Elowen laughed, her heart pounding in her chest, adrenaline still coursing through her. She hadn’t even realized how completely she’d let her guard down, how natural it felt to be right here, celebrating like she had a place among them.

Emmett collapsed back onto the couch, shaking his head in disbelief. “Damn. I knew I liked you.” He grabbed the bowl of popcorn and offered it over to Elowen, who grabbed a couple pieces and tossed it in her mouth. “You ever played?”

Elowen smirked, sinking back into her seat and stretching her arms behind her head. “Let’s just say…I can throw a perfect spiral.” Emmett’s eyes widened, and then a slow grin spread across his face.

“Oh, hell yes. We are so testing that out later.” Jasper chuckled from his spot beside Elowen. Despite being a sports fan himself he preferred baseball to football as he explained to her earlier. But he did enjoy watching the games. Though Elowen was willing to bet he liked watching her more than the TV, she wasn’t sure he’d taken his eyes off her all night. 

“Time and place, Emmett,” Elowen chuckled as she stretched, standing up just as the commercials rolled in. “I’m gonna run to the bathroom really quick,” she announced, already planning the fastest way to get in and out before kickoff resumed.

Emmett pointed at her, serious. “Be quick—you do not wanna miss this.”

She nodded, already taking a step toward the hallway. “Down the hall to the left,” Jasper added as she glanced at him for direction. Got it.

She moved fast, her steps light as she wove through the sprawling house. There was no time to stop and gawk, but still, she caught glimpses of things that made her pause—things that didn’t quite fit. The house was pristine, elegant in a way that didn’t feel lived in, yet warm at the same time. Then, as she passed a long stretch of wall, something unusual caught her eye. A collection of graduation caps. Rows of them, perfectly displayed like some kind of museum  exhibit. That’s…odd.

But she didn’t have time to puzzle over it. Football now, weird decor later. She slipped into the bathroom, quickly doing her business before washing her hands at lightning speed. She had maybe twenty seconds before the game came back—if she sprinted, she could probably —

“Hi, Elowen.” She froze. Standing just outside the bathroom door, blocking her path like some adorable, immovable force, was Alice. She was beaming up at her, bright-eyed, radiating excitement.

“Oh, hi Alice.” Elowen forced a polite smile, shifting on her feet. Please, for the love of God, make this quick.

“I love your shoes!” Alice gushed, practically bouncing. “They’re really cute—where did you get them?”

“Oh,” Elowen blinked, glancing down at her boots, which were honestly kind of old. “I think I got them at the thrift store in town.”

Alice gasped like she had just committed some kind of fashion miracle. “ You’re kidding— ”

“ NO WAY! HE’S GONNA DO IT! ”

Emmett’s voice boomed from the other room, and every muscle in Elowen’s body locked up. Her brain short-circuited. Overtime. A game-deciding play. And she was in the hallway talking about shoes. Panic. Pure, unfiltered panic.

“Alice, I am so sorry,” she blurted, already stepping backward. “I really don’t mean to be rude, but the game is in overtime and I have to see this.” Alice blinked, momentarily startled by her urgency. “I promise I’ll talk to you after!” Elowen called over her shoulder, already speed-walking backward down the hall before spinning on her heel and bolting.

She barely registered Alice’s huff as she sprinted toward the living room. Please, please, please tell me I didn’t miss it.

As Elowen skidded into the TV room, heart pounding, she barely had time to catch her breath before the screen erupted in chaos. The Broncos' kicker lined up for the field goal—only a few seconds left on the clock. The stadium on the screen was a blur of noise, the tension so thick it practically bled through the television. The ball snapped, the kicker’s foot connected, and Elowen held her breath. The football soared through the air in a perfect arc. It’s good.

The refs signaled, the scoreboard updated—23-20, Broncos. The crowd on-screen erupted. The commentators went wild. And so did Elowen. “Yes! Yes!” she shouted, pumping her fist in the air before turning to Emmett, her face alight with triumph. “I told you they’d do it!”

But Emmett wasn’t celebrating. He sat slumped on the couch, arms crossed, his expression twisted in utter devastation. “Nooooo,” he groaned dramatically, throwing his head back like the loss had physically wounded him. “Not like this, man. They fought so hard!”

Elowen couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, come on. That was an amazing game.”

Emmett shot her a betrayed look. “You knew they were gonna win, didn’t you?”

She shrugged, unable to hide her smirk. “I had a feeling.”

He let out a dramatic sigh, rubbing his face. “Ugh, this hurts.”

Elowen nudged him with her elbow. “I mean, credit where credit’s due—the Browns put up one hell of a fight. That was not an easy win.”

Emmett eyed her, still sulking but slightly appeased. “Yeah… they did.” He exhaled loudly, slumping further into the couch. “Still sucks, though.”

Elowen grinned, stretching her arms behind her head. “Hey, at least they made it to overtime. Could’ve been worse.”

“Not helping,” Emmett grumbled. She snickered, shaking her head before turning back to the screen, watching the slow-motion replays of the final kick. Even though the Broncos weren’t her favorite team, she had to admit—it felt good to see them take the win.

Beside her, Emmett groaned again, flopping onto his side dramatically. “This is a deep emotional wound, Little Red.”

Elowen laughed. “You do realize it’s just a game, right?”

Emmett shot her a horrified look. “Just a game? Elowen, I thought we were bonding!”

She smirked. “We are. I’m just enjoying it a little more than you right now.” Emmett groaned again, burying his face into a couch cushion while Elowen settled in, still buzzing from the thrill of the win. It had been a damn good game.

“You happy?” Jasper asked, watching her closely, a knowing grin tugging at his lips.

“Very,” Elowen admitted, her own smile still lingering from the game. Her heart was still racing a little, that post-adrenaline buzz making her feel lighter, more at ease than she had in a long time. Then, suddenly, she remembered— Alice.

“Oh, I need to go find Alice,” she said, her excitement dimming slightly. “I kinda ditched her in the hallway earlier.” A pang of guilt settled in her chest. Alice had been so excited to talk to her, and she had just walked away. Before she could dwell on it too much, though, a strange sensation washed over her—like the sharp edges of guilt were suddenly softened, smoothed into something more manageable. It was subtle but distinct, like the emotional equivalent of a warm breeze.

She blinked, shaking her head slightly. Weird.

“She’s fine,” Jasper said, chuckling as if she was worrying over nothing. “She’s probably in the dining room.” Elowen gave him a side-eye but didn’t argue. Together, they made their way through the house, the distant murmur of conversation growing clearer as they neared the dining area. As soon as they stepped inside, Alice spun toward them, her expression shifting from excitement to something more dramatic—something deeply wounded.

“Oh, look who finally decided to resurface,” she declared, crossing her arms but smiling in a way that told Elowen she wasn’t actually mad.

Elowen winced, rubbing the back of her neck. “Yeah, about that…”

Alice let out an exaggerated sigh. “Did you at least enjoy abandoning me?”

Elowen snorted. “It went into overtime, Alice. What was I supposed to do?”

“I saw it coming,” Alice huffed. “I knew you’d leave me for football, but I still had hope. Hope that maybe— just maybe —you would value fashion over a bunch of guys throwing a ball around and scoring baskets or whatever.”

“Touchdowns, they score touchdowns,” Elowen smirked after a small laugh. “You had unrealistic expectations.”

Alice let out a dramatic gasp, placing a hand over her heart. “I can’t believe this betrayal.”

“Uh-huh.” Elowen grinned but still felt a little bad. “Look, I owe you. Let me make it up to you.”

Alice perked up immediately. “Perfect! We’ll go shopping.”

Elowen’s smile faltered. “Wait. That’s—”

“She drives a hard bargain,” a smooth voice interjected.

Elowen turned toward the new speaker and found herself face-to-face with Edward Cullen. She had seen him in passing but never really spoken to him. Now, standing in front of her, his sharp golden eyes studied her with quiet intensity. His expression was unreadable—curious, maybe even mildly amused—but there was something else. Something assessing.

“Hello Elowen,” he greeted, his tone casual but laced with something she couldn’t quite place.

“Edward,” she returned, meeting his gaze steadily. They stared at each other for a beat longer than necessary. There was something about the way he looked at her—like he was trying to figure something out. It sent an odd prickle down her spine, not in an unsettling way, but in a way that made her hyper-aware of the moment.

Then, just as quickly as it came, he smirked slightly. “You are interesting.”

Elowen narrowed her eyes in confusion as she turned to look at Jasper. “That sounds vaguely ominous.” Edward just chuckled and Jasper simply shook his head but she didn’t miss the sharp look he shot at his brother. 

“ Anyway! ” Alice clapped her hands together, interrupting whatever strange thing had just passed between them. “Back to what’s important—shoe shopping. Yes or no?”

Elowen sighed, dragging a hand down her face. “Do I have a choice?”

“No,” Alice said cheerfully. Elowen rolled her eyes, but despite herself, she was smiling.

“Alright then, I guess its a date.” Alice clapped her hands in victory. 

“Sorry about her,” Jasper murmured in her ear as they all made their way to the living room. Elowen giggled but shook her head, there was no need for an apology. Alice was nice, a bit pushy, but nice. They all were, and she suddenly felt silly for being so nervous to meet everyone. 

The rest of the evening unfolded in a whirlwind of conversation as the Cullens each took their turn getting to know her better. They fired off question after question, their curiosity relentless, and soon enough, she felt like the subject of some grand research project—like they were trying to compile the Encyclopedia of Elowen Reed.

She answered as best as she could, her voice weaving through stories of her life with an ease that surprised even her. But some things she kept close to her chest, carefully sidestepping any mention of her tormented childhood. Those wounds weren’t for sharing, not yet. Maybe not ever. Still, for everything else, she was an open book.

Emmett, as expected, fixated on her love of sports. His enthusiasm was infectious as he grilled her about her favorite teams, greatest plays, and whether she could actually throw a football as well as she claimed. When she promised to take him on in video games sometime, he clapped her on the back so hard she nearly lost her balance.

“I knew I liked you, Little Red,” he said, grinning. “You’re officially my new favorite.”

Elowen laughed. “I feel like that title comes with a lot of pressure.”

“Damn right it does.”

Esme and Carlisle, on the other hand, were far more gentle in their curiosity. They asked about her grandparents, their voices warm with genuine interest. Esme in particular seemed fascinated by even the smallest details—what kind of house they lived in, what kind of meals they made, what traditions they kept. It wasn’t just small talk; it felt deeper than that, like she was piecing together some invisible thread between them.

Rosalie, surprisingly, was one of the easiest conversations of the night. She and Elowen quickly fell into discussing the plan for the Beetle. It was decided that the Beetle would be left at the Cullens’ place over winter break, waiting to be worked on once the family returned after Christmas.

Elowen hated the idea of leaving it behind, but Alice had been firm. “There’s a huge snowstorm coming,” she had said, waving a hand dismissively. “You won’t be able to drive it, trust me.”

Elowen didn’t doubt her. Alice spoke with such certainty, like she had already seen it happen. She just figured the girl had a love for weather reports. 

Edward, who mainly observed the entire time staring at Elowen as if he was trying to read words printed on her forehead or something, finally chimed in on the conversation once the topic of music was brought up. The two happened to share a love for the classics. 

By the time the night wound down, Elowen’s head was spinning—not just from the endless questions, but from the strange sense of belonging that had crept in when she wasn’t looking. She had never met a group of people— a family —like this before.

And though she didn’t quite understand why… part of her didn’t want to leave.

JASPER HALE — 

The car rumbled softly beneath them, the low hum of the engine blending with the rhythmic squeak of the windshield wipers as they cleared away the falling snowflakes. Outside, the world was cloaked in white, the soft glow of streetlights casting golden halos onto the icy roads.

“Huh,” Elowen murmured beside him, watching the snowfall with quiet curiosity. “Looks like maybe Alice was right.”

Jasper smirked, keeping his eyes on the road. “She has that annoying habit,” he chuckled, though there was undeniable fondness in his tone.

The night had been a remarkable success—far better than he had dared to hope. And though Alice had assured him, over and over, that it would be, it hadn’t stopped the knot of unease from sitting heavy in his chest the entire evening. His mate—his human, delicate mate—had spent hours in a house full of vampires, and if Jasper had been capable of a heart attack, he was certain he would have suffered one by now. 

But she had handled it all with ease, settling into their world without hesitation, without fear. And that… that staggered him.

“I don’t doubt it,” Elowen laughed softly, shifting to lean back into the plush leather of Carlisle’s car. The scent of her filled the space between them, warm and familiar, carrying traces of the Cullen household—the faintest whisper of Esme’s perfume, the lingering scent of old books from whatever corner of the house she had tucked herself into during their endless conversations.

It had taken some convincing—and, admittedly, a well-placed nudge of his ability—to get her to let him drive her home. She loved that damn Beetle of hers, and while Jasper understood sentimentality, he wasn’t about to let her take it out in a snowstorm. Hell, a 1960s Beetle wasn’t exactly the safest car brand new, much less after decades of wear and tear. But she loved it. And he…

“They all love you,” he said suddenly, the words slipping out before he could overthink them. Elowen perked up immediately, twisting in her seat to face him, her eyes bright and searching.

“They do?” she asked, almost hesitant, as if the idea had never truly occurred to her. Jasper flicked his gaze toward her, taking in the quiet wonder on her face. The dim interior lighting of the car cast golden shadows across Elowen’s skin, highlighting the curve of her cheek, the delicate slope of her nose. She looked soft in this light—unguarded, thoughtful. The deep red of her hair was darkened by melted snowflakes, strands clinging to her temples and curling slightly from the dampness. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose were still flushed from the cold, despite the warmth of the heater blasting through the small cab.

“Yeah,” Jasper murmured, his voice quieter now. “They do.”

He hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words. His family had surprised him tonight. It wasn’t that they were unkind—they simply didn’t let people in. They had spent so many years guarding themselves, avoiding attachments outside of their own circle. It was easier that way. Safer for everyone involved. It was just the way their life was.  But Elowen…

“My family,” he continued slowly, “we don’t open up to new people well. We keep to ourselves because it’s easier that way. But you, Elowen… you’ve managed to win them over. Even Rosalie, which is a feat in itself.”

Elowen turned her head sharply at that, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. “What? Why?”

Jasper glanced at her, taking in the way her expression creased with curiosity, completely unaware of the effect she had on people. She was beautiful . The way the light touched her face, the softness of her hair, the way she looked at him—not with fear, not with hesitation, but with trust. It made something in his chest tighten.

He cleared his throat, shifting his grip on the wheel. “Her life hasn’t been the easiest,” he admitted carefully, feeling the weight of Rosalie’s past even as he spoke. “So she comes off as cold. Egotistical, even. People don’t think very kindly of her. They think she’s mean.”

He braced himself for the agreement, the same opinion he had heard time and time again from every human they encountered. But Elowen surprised him.

“I didn’t think that,” she said simply, cutting him off.

Jasper’s hands tightened against the steering wheel, caught off guard by her certainty. He had spent years listening to the whispers in the cafeteria, the hushed judgments from students who only saw Rosalie’s striking beauty but never looked deeper. Humans admired her, but they rarely liked her. But Elowen—she hadn’t even hesitated.

“You didn’t?” he asked, his voice quieter now, filled with something unspoken. Elowen shook her head, sending a subtle breeze of her scent in his direction. Damn. His jaw tensed slightly as he fought the instinctual reaction, focusing instead on her words.

“No,” she said, her voice unwavering. “She’s guarded, sure. But mean? No. She just…” She trailed off for a moment, tilting her head slightly as if trying to find the right words. “She reminds me of a caged bird.”

Jasper blinked, his grip on the wheel loosening slightly. “A caged bird?”

Elowen nodded, turning her gaze back toward the windshield, watching the snow dance in the glow of the headlights. “She’s beautiful, but there’s something sad about it, like she’s always waiting for something that’s never gonna come.”

Jasper felt something shift inside him. For all the years he had spent with Rosalie, all the time he had spent understanding her emotions without words, he had never heard anyone else see her the way she truly was. Not until now. He exhaled slowly, his chest suddenly feeling too tight.

“You’re something else, Elowen,” he murmured, and this time, when he looked at her, he knew with certainty— He was completely and utterly in love with her.

Jasper pulled into her driveway, the soft rumble of the engine fading into the quiet hush of the falling snow. The golden glow of the porch light spilled onto the frost-covered steps, left on for Elowen’s arrival, a small beacon of warmth against the winter night.

He shifted the car into park but didn’t give her a chance to move. In a hurry, he was already outside, rounding the hood of the car before she had even unbuckled her seatbelt. He opened her door swiftly, the cold night air rushing in, swirling around them like a whispered secret.

Elowen looked up at him, wide-eyed, breathless. “How do you always get here so fast?”

Jasper shrugged, smirking as he extended a steady hand. “Guess I’m just quick on my feet.” She hesitated for only a fraction of a second before slipping her fingers into his, letting him help her out. Her touch was warm, human—so delicate against the cold press of his skin. He made sure she didn’t slip on the icy ground, his grip firm but gentle as he led her toward the porch.

They reached the steps, and for the first time that evening, a hush settled between them. Jasper could feel the shift in her emotions—contentment, lingering excitement from the night, but also something softer, something hesitant, like she wasn’t quite ready for the moment to end.

“I had a really nice time tonight, Jasper. Thank you—your family is lovely,” Elowen said, her voice warm, sincere. She looked up at him through her thick lashes, the porch light casting a soft glow over her features. Snowflakes clung to her red hair, the damp strands curling slightly against her cheek. Her lips—round and rosy from the cold—parted just slightly as she smiled.

Jasper’s mind went completely blank. God help him. She looked unreal standing there, like some kind of dream he had no business touching. And yet, she was right there, inches away, looking at  him like he was just a boy dropping her off at the end of the night. Not a monster. Not something to be feared. Just Jasper.

“Thank you for coming,” he finally managed, his voice quieter than he intended. Elowen gave him one last smile before turning toward the door, her hand curling around the knob. And before he could stop himself, before he could even think—his hand shot out, fingers wrapping gently around her arm. She turned back, eyes wide, searching his face.

Jasper swallowed hard, his thumb barely brushing against the fabric of her sleeve. He felt the flicker of emotion shift inside her—curiosity, a rush of something startled but not unwelcome. For once, it wasn’t the emotions of an entire room overwhelming him—it was just hers.

“Would you like to go on a date with me when we get back?” The words were out before he could second-guess them, hanging in the cold winter air like a breathless confession. Elowen stared up at him, and a beat of silence passed between them. It must have only been seconds, but to Jasper, it felt like an eternity. He had faced war, death, an eternity of battles—but nothing had ever made him feel as vulnerable as this.

Then, finally— finally —her lips curved into a slow, breathtaking smile. “I would love to.” Jasper barely registered the way his shoulders eased, the tension melting from his chest.

“New Year’s Eve?” he asked, his voice steadier now, but still laced with something raw, something real.

She nodded. “It’s a date.”

He let out a breath he didn’t need. “It’s a date,” he repeated, almost stunned.

Elowen’s smile lingered as she turned back toward the door, pausing only to glance at him one last time. “Goodnight, Jasper. Drive safe.”

He inclined his head, something warm settling deep inside him. “Sweet dreams, Elowen.”

And as she disappeared inside, Jasper stood there for a long moment, the cold biting at his skin, snow falling softly around him. For the first time in a century, he felt something new—something he had almost forgotten was possible.

Hope.

Chapter Text

ELOWEN POV.

The living room glowed with the soft golden light of the Christmas tree, its ornaments reflecting tiny sparks of warmth as snow dusted the windows beyond. The scent of cinnamon and pine curled through the air, mixing with the lingering comfort of her grandmother’s freshly baked cookies.

Elowen’s fingers tore through the wrapping paper, her heartbeat quick with excitement. As the last bit of festive red and gold crinkled to the floor, she gasped softly, her breath catching in her throat. A small, elegant box rested in her hands—black velvet, smooth beneath her fingertips. She glanced up at her grandfather, whose weathered face held the hint of a knowing smile.

Slowly, she lifted the lid.

A silver medallion-style necklace lay nestled inside, catching the flickering light from the fireplace. Its surface gleamed, cool and polished, but it was the engraving at the center that made her eyes widen. A dove. Etched with delicate precision, its tiny wings were spread as if mid-flight, its form simple yet full of meaning.

“Oh my gosh,” she whispered, fingers hovering over the necklace before carefully lifting it from the box. The cool metal sent a shiver up her spine as she held it in her palm, tracing the familiar shape. “It’s beautiful.”

Her grandfather’s voice was warm, thick with emotion. “Your grandmother and I had it made special for you, Dovie.” Elowen swallowed, her throat tight as she looked between them. Her grandmother’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, a soft smile tugging at her lips.

“You’ve always been our little dove,” Grandma Lucille murmured, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from Elowen’s face. “Strong, resilient... but still so full of grace.”

Elowen blinked rapidly, overwhelmed by the quiet love that filled the room. She let out a small, breathless laugh, turning the necklace over in her hands. “I don’t even know what to say,” she admitted, her voice thick. “I love it. I love you both.”

Her grandfather chuckled, the sound deep and warm. “Well, we figured it was about time you had something to remind you of that—just in case you ever forget.” Elowen sniffled, smiling as she unhooked the clasp, silently asking her grandmother for help. Lucille took the necklace with steady hands, fastening it securely around her granddaughter’s neck. The silver medallion rested just above Elowen’s heart, its weight grounding, comforting.

“There,” Lucille said softly. “Right where it belongs.”

Elowen pressed her fingers against it, feeling its coolness against her skin. For the first time in a long while, she felt like she truly belonged—like home wasn’t just a place, but the love surrounding her in this moment. And as the fire crackled and the snow outside continued to fall, she held onto that feeling as tightly as she held onto the dove resting against her heart.

The warmth of the fire crackled softly as Elowen nestled deeper into the couch, the silver medallion resting just above her heart. The scent of pine and cinnamon wrapped around her like a comforting embrace, mingling with the faint sweetness of hot cocoa in her hands. Outside, the world was dusted in white, snowflakes still drifting lazily against the darkened sky.

Her grandfather sat in his usual armchair, flipping through the pages of a worn, leather-bound book—one he claimed had been read every Christmas Eve since he was a boy. Her grandmother sat beside her, a warm knitted blanket draped over both of their legs, fingers absently tracing the rim of her teacup.

“Alright, Dovie,” Grandpa Gideon said, adjusting his glasses as he settled in. “What’ll it be this year? The Night Before Christmas or A Christmas Carol ?” Elowen smiled into her cocoa, pretending to consider. They always read A Christmas Carol . It was tradition—just like homemade sugar cookies in the morning, matching pajama sets, and sitting by the fire until midnight, pretending to stay up to ‘Celebrate Christmas in properly.’ Her grandparents never made it past 9pm.

She let the familiar weight of the medallion settle against her skin before answering, “I think we both know the answer, Papa.”

He chuckled, flipping to the first page. “Figured as much.”

As he began to read, his deep, soothing voice lulling the room into a gentle quiet, Elowen let her fingers wander absentmindedly over the smooth surface of her necklace. It was only then that she noticed a slight indentation at the back.

Frowning, she tilted it in the firelight, the glow revealing something etched into the metal’s surface. A single word, carved with care. “ Home .” Elowen’s breath hitched, her throat tightening with a wave of emotion she hadn’t expected. Her grandfather’s voice continued in the background, his words distant now as she ran her thumb over the tiny inscription. Home. A simple word, but it meant everything.

She was home. And no matter where life took her, she had something, someone, to remind her of that. She swallowed thickly, blinking back the sudden sting in her eyes as she curled deeper into the warmth of the couch, her hand still resting over the silver dove.

The dining table was overflowing with food—enough to feed an army, though only three sat around it. The golden glow of candlelight flickered against the polished wood, platters of mashed potatoes piled high, steaming brisket glazed to perfection, and freshly baked dinner rolls soft enough to melt in her mouth. A feast far too large for their small family, but no one was complaining.

Elowen didn’t hesitate to dig in, piling her plate with an unashamed amount of food—a generous heap of mashed potatoes, thick slices of brisket, two warm rolls, and nearly the entire dish of her grandmother’s famous green bean casserole. Across from her, her Papa followed suit, his plate just as full, while Lucille chuckled at the two of them with an amused shake of her head.

The warmth of the meal blended seamlessly with the warmth of their conversation. Between bites and laughter, they shared their favorite Christmas memories, reminiscing about the best gifts they’d ever received. The crackling fire in the hearth cast soft shadows against the walls, wrapping them in a cocoon of comfort. Elowen was mid-bite—her forkful of buttery potatoes halfway to her mouth—when a sudden knock at the door broke through the cozy atmosphere.

She froze. The three of them exchanged confused glances. Who would be knocking on Christmas night? Forks wasn’t the kind of town for unexpected visitors—especially not this late. Lucille wiped her hands on her napkin before pushing back her chair. The soft creak of the wooden floors followed her as she approached the front door. Elowen listened as the latch clicked, her breath unconsciously held as the door swung open.

Silence. 

“Strange,” Lucille murmured. Elowen craned her neck to see. There was no one there. But at her grandmother’s feet, resting neatly on the snow-dusted porch, was a package. Not just any package. It was wrapped with precision—crisp paper adorned with glittering candy canes, the deep red and white shimmering under the glow of the porch light. A green velvet ribbon was tied in a perfect bow, making it look like something straight out of a Christmas catalog.

Lucille bent down, carefully picking it up, her fingers grazing the small tag attached to the ribbon. Then, a knowing smile crept onto her lips. Shaking her head in quiet amusement, she turned and shut the door against the cold, bringing the mystery package back into the warm glow of the dining room. She waved it lightly in the air, eyes twinkling.

“You’ve got another gift, Dovie.” Elowen, mid-chew and caught completely off guard, blinked at her grandmother in confusion. She hurriedly swallowed, wiping her hands on her napkin before reaching for the package. Her fingers found the tag, flipping it over.

To: Elowen.
From: Jasper.

Her breath caught. Jasper? Her heart lurched. How had he gotten this to her? He must have arranged for it to be hand-delivered—on Christmas night, no less. That couldn’t have been cheap. Damn it. She wanted to punch herself for not giving him the gift she had picked out for him weeks ago. She’d planned to hand it over on New Year’s during their date, and now she felt like an idiot for waiting. Butterflies erupted in her stomach at the thought of seeing him again.

“Well?” Papa prodded, giving her a teasing nudge. “Are you gonna open it, or just stare at it all night?”

Elowen bit her lip, carefully sliding her fingers beneath the velvet ribbon, unwilling to tear the beautiful wrapping. It felt too perfect to ruin, like a piece of art meant to be admired. But when she finally lifted the lid of the box, her breath hitched.

Nestled inside was a beautiful leather-bound journal, the deep brown cover embossed with intricate floral designs. Delicate vines and flowers snaked across the soft, supple leather, making it look like something out of another era—timeless and elegant. She traced her fingers over the design, already entranced by the thoughtful craftsmanship.

But when she opened the first page, her chest tightened. Written in perfect, looping script was a message meant just for her:

"Memories aren’t meant to be carried alone, darlin’.
If you ever want to share them, I’ll listen. And if not, that’s alright too. But I hope you keep writing them down.  Some things—some people—deserve to be remembered. —Jasper”

A sharp breath left her lungs. Her heart thudded against her ribs, too fast, too much. Jasper remembered. He remembered what she had told him—about how she kept so much of her past locked away, how she felt like she had to carry it alone so it wouldn’t burden anyone else.

But now he had given her a place to put it all. A place to keep her stories, her memories—everything she was afraid of forgetting. And more than that, he had opened a door. He was telling her, in his quiet way, that he would listen if she ever wanted to share. That she didn’t have to hold it all inside. Her fingers trembled slightly as she flipped through the pages, noting something else hidden within the journal. Scattered throughout, written in Jasper’s same careful, old-fashioned script, were prompts.

Prompts meant just for her.

"Describe your happiest childhood memory."
"What’s something you never want to forget?"
"Write about a time you felt safe."
"If you could say one thing to someone you lost, what would it be?"

She exhaled sharply and shut the journal before the warmth in her chest became too much.

“What is it, Dovie?” Her grandmother’s voice was soft, but knowing. Lucille always knew. Elowen hesitated for only a second before handing the journal over, afraid that if she spoke, her voice might betray the emotion welling inside her. She had never been good at disguising her feelings—not from her grandmother, anyway.

Lucille took the leather-bound book with gentle hands, running her fingers over the embossed floral design. Her eyes widened with appreciation, the flickering glow of the Christmas lights reflecting in their depth. She turned it over once, then again, as if committing it to memory before passing it to Gideon.

“It’s beautiful,” Lucille murmured, reverence in her tone. Then, after a thoughtful pause, she arched a teasing eyebrow at her granddaughter. “It’s quite a thoughtful gift... from just a friend.” The implication sent heat creeping up Elowen’s neck, and she immediately ducked her head to hide her blush.

“Yeah, well,” she started, trying to sound casual, “Jasper asked me out on a date for New Year’s.”

Her grandmother hummed in response, amusement dancing in her expression. “Oh, is that right?” she mused, turning a page in the journal as if the answer might be written there. “Will I get the chance to meet this Jasper? Your Papa’s already met him, and I have to say, it’s hard not to feel a little left out of the loop.”

Elowen scoffed, shooting a pointed playful glare at her grandfather, who looked mighty pleased with himself from where he sat, arms crossed over his chest in smug satisfaction. “The only reason Papa met him is because he gave me no choice,” she huffed, narrowing her eyes at him.

Gideon grinned, looking far too proud of himself. “Don’t you forget it.”

Elowen rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the small, reluctant smile that tugged at her lips. Lucille chuckled, shaking her head as she passed the journal back to Elowen. “Well, I suppose I’ll just have to wait my turn, then.”

Elowen took the book, running her fingers over the soft, worn leather, her heart still fluttering from the gift, from Jasper, from everything. 

New Year’s suddenly felt a lot closer.  

JASPER POV. 

If he’d still been human, his palms would’ve been slick with sweat, his heartbeat a wild, fluttering thing beneath his ribs. Instead, his stillness felt unnatural— too composed, like a coiled spring locked in place. He hadn’t realized a vampire could feel this nervous. But here he was, standing stiffly on the frost-bitten porch of Elowen’s house, wondering if the impossible could happen—if anxiety could short-circuit even an immortal.

His knuckles tapped lightly against the wooden door, the sound oddly loud in the hush of New Year’s Eve. In his other hand, he clutched a bouquet of cornflower blue blossoms—delicate, out of season, flown in from somewhere warmer and far away. They reminded him of her eyes, the rare moments he’d caught them in sunlight.

He rocked slightly on the balls of his feet—not to appear more human, though that was a convenient excuse—but to ease the restless energy crawling beneath his skin. It had been too long. The trip to Alaska had stretched endlessly, each hour away from Elowen a small torment. The Denali coven had been gracious, but not blind. They saw right through him. The questions had come quickly— Who is she? A human? How much does she know?

It had been grating, invasive. He hadn’t wanted to talk about Elowen.

He’d wanted to be with her.

Now that he was back, his worry hadn’t lifted—it had only shifted. What if something had happened while he was gone? Icy roads, a careless driver. A stranger passing through town with blood-red eyes and no regard for their quiet treaty. Forks was small, yes, and their territory protected—but danger didn’t ask for permission. Alice had reassured him constantly but it didn’t do much to soothe him.

He shifted again, jaw tightening. He hated this feeling—being on edge. It made him feel like the man he used to be, back when danger was something he sought , not feared.

And now, standing outside Elowen’s door, his dead heart felt impossibly full—too full—and yet empty, aching to see her, hear her voice. Even the scent of her skin was enough to unravel him, and he hadn't even stepped inside.

Was this what hope felt like, pressed tight against dread?

He exhaled softly, more out of habit than necessity. Snowflakes drifted down around him like stardust, the sky just beginning to bruise with twilight. The world felt caught in that strange space between years, between endings and beginnings.

Just like him. 

Then, without warning—and to his own quiet astonishment, as even his enhanced hearing had failed him—the door eased open.

And just like that, every flicker of worry, every dark thread of dread in him dissolved, melted like fresh snow beneath the first kiss of spring rain.

Elowen stood before him.

And he forgot how to breathe—not that he needed to, but the memory of breath felt essential in her presence.

She was luminous in the soft porch light, incandescent in a way that had nothing to do with the world around her. Her hair, that wild, fire-kissed red, had been coaxed into loose, elegant curls, some falling free like ribbons of flame, while the rest was swept back, pinned in place with quiet grace. She wore a simple white wool sweater-dress—modest, but on her it was something holy. Black leggings and worn leather boots completed it, practical and unassuming, and yet she might as well have been stepping out of a dream conjured just for him.

Her brown jacket was shrugged over her shoulders, casual, familiar. She held a small purse in her hands, fingers curling around it with a nervous energy that betrayed her calm posture. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold—or maybe from something else—and when her eyes lifted to his, lashes trembling, the sight of her hesitation undid him.

She looked bashful beneath his gaze. Bashful. As though she didn’t know what she was. As though she couldn’t feel the way she rewrote gravity every time she walked into a room.

How long had he been staring? He had no idea. Not long enough. Not even close.

“Hi,” she said softly, her voice a whisper on the wind.

It hurt— God, it hurt—to hear her sound shy around him. And yet he was completely undone by it. That she could be nervous too? That she could look at him and feel what he was feeling, even if just a fraction?

“You look beautiful,” he said, the words tumbling out before anything else. It was all he could offer in that moment—truth, pure and unfiltered. She looked down at her boots, her foot nudging the ground, and he could see the hint of a smile tug at the corner of her mouth.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

He held out the bouquet, arm slightly unsteady. Cornflower blue blooms, fragile against the night. “These are for you.” Her eyes lit up; whether from the gesture itself or because the color mirrored her spirit, he couldn’t say. All he knew was that he never wanted to forget that expression. That softness. That joy.

“They’re beautiful,” she said, her smile blooming full and unguarded. It hit him like a tidal wave. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you.” And it wasn’t just a phrase—it was a vow, a sacred truth stitched into the very marrow of him. If there was a thing in this world she wanted, needed, dreamed of—there was nothing, nothing , that could keep him from giving it to her.

She stepped back and opened the door wider. “Come on in, I’ll put these in some water.”

He crossed the threshold like he was stepping into another life.

The warmth inside was immediate and intimate, the hearthfire crackling with life in the corner of the living room. The scent of woodsmoke and cinnamon drifted in the air, and everything about the space was alive —not just warm, but lived-in. Loved. The walls held laughter. The couch still bore the impression of someone recently sitting there. A book lay open on the coffee table, spine bent, a blanket rumpled across the arm of the chair.

This was what home was. Not just a place, but a feeling .

He had walked through grand halls and pristine mansions, places where silence clung like dust to polished surfaces. But this—this was something else. The Cullens had a house, yes. But Elowen had a home . And in every corner of it, he could feel her.

He stood still, reverent, as if afraid he might disturb the magic of it.

In the kitchen, he could hear the gentle rush of water from the sink. The sound of her moving—her footsteps, the soft clink of a vase being retrieved—was music to him. The kind of music that stayed with you, long after the song had ended.

“You must be Jasper?”

The voice startled him— actually startled him—and that alone was enough to unsettle him. He hadn’t heard footsteps. Hadn’t felt a presence creeping into his awareness. His senses, usually so sharp, so unerring, had failed him. No—not failed. They had simply been drowned in Elowen.

He turned smoothly, instinctively bracing himself, and found himself looking into the lined, knowing eyes of an older woman. She was elegant, silver-haired and sharp-eyed, her frame small but unmistakably sturdy. Her gaze was unwavering, piercing, and as familiar as it was foreign.

Lucille Reed.

He recognized her immediately. From the faded photographs Elowen had shown him. From the scent of her that clung faintly to Elowen’s sweaters. From the warm way Elowen had spoken of her—with reverence, with fierce affection. And now, in person, it was plain to see: the same high cheekbones, the same determined jawline. Her smile bore the ghost of youth, still beautiful beneath the softened wrinkles time had etched into her face. She was stunning in her own right—like moonlight tempered by years, softened and sharpened all at once. It wasn’t hard to see where Elowen had inherited her striking presence.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, offering his hand. “Jasper Hale.”

Her grip was firm. And the moment her skin touched his, he felt it—a flare, a sudden, startling spike in her emotions. A sharp current of surprise, followed by something warmer. Not quite trust, but… acceptance. Maybe even recognition. It pulsed through her like a heartbeat, and Jasper’s head tilted ever so slightly in response, golden eyes narrowing in subtle curiosity.

“You must be Elowen’s grandmother. Lucille.”

Lucille’s lips curved, but her gaze remained sharp. “That’s right.”

“She’s told me quite a lot about you,” Jasper said, keeping his tone smooth, warm, careful. He could feel her scrutiny like a spotlight.

“Oh, she has, hmm?” Her eyes twinkled, but he sensed she was reading him—reading into him—in a way that reminded him faintly of Carlisle.

“All good things,” Elowen interjected as she rejoined them, slipping to his side like she belonged there—like they were already a pair. She moved with that quiet grace she always had, but her emotional state was flickering—anxious, embarrassed, a little exasperated.

Jasper turned slightly to glance at her, and in that moment, the room brightened in every possible sense. The bouquet now rested in a crystal vase on the dining table, already claiming its place in her world.

“Uh huh,” Lucille said, clearly unconvinced, though not unkindly more playful. Her gaze flicked between the two of them, and for a moment, Jasper wondered if she saw it —the invisible thread that tethered him to Elowen. His mate.

“So,” she said at last, folding her hands. “What’s the plan for this evening?”

“Dinner,” he replied, ever the gentleman, “and perhaps a walk afterward, if the weather permits.”

Elowen shifted beside him, her embarrassment spiking again like a small fire. “Which we’re actually running late for, Nana…”

“I won’t keep you long,” Lucille said with that practiced ease of someone who always got her way. “But Jasper, dear, I wonder if you might give an old woman a hand fetching something from the top shelf upstairs? My knees aren’t what they used to be.”

“Nana…” Elowen groaned, her frustration now tinged with disbelief. “I told you I’d get the box when I came home.”

“Oh, nonsense. Jasper seems plenty tall enough to reach it, and I don’t want you climbing on chairs again. We all remember what happened last time you tried that stunt.” Elowen sighed, a long-suffering but familiar sound, and rolled her eyes. She knew it was a lost cause. Jasper could feel her resignation settle around her like a shawl.

“I’d be happy to assist you, Lucille,” Jasper said smoothly, offering the older woman a faint smile. He didn’t mind the delay. If anything, he welcomed it. Every moment in this house felt like peeling back layers of Elowen’s world—and Lucille was clearly a key part of it. Lucille smiled at him—triumphant, perhaps—and turned with an elegant, unhurried motion toward the staircase.

Elowen made a move to follow but was quickly halted by her grandmothers sharp eye. “Not you Dove, just him.”Jasper followed, he could feel Elowen’s gaze on his back, warm and sheepish and a little apologetic. He didn’t mind.

He’d climb every stair, reach every high shelf, and walk through every subtle test her grandmother had to offer. Because loving Elowen Reed didn’t come with conditions. It came with devotion.

Lucille led him upstairs with measured steps, her small frame moving with the deliberate grace of someone in full command of her environment. Jasper followed without comment, already suspecting this errand was a fabrication. The moment she gestured to the shelf, his suspicions solidified.

The brown box sat on the top, easily within his reach. Not exactly a challenge. Certainly not something she’d need help retrieving—unless, of course, help had never been the point.

He reached up and pulled it down effortlessly, the weight almost nonexistent in his hand. When he turned to offer it to her, Lucille wasn’t watching the box. She was watching him .

There was a glint in her gaze—sharp, assessing, quietly triumphant.

Then, she spoke. Low. Precise. Her voice a thread of silk laced with steel.

“Your eyes are quite a peculiar shade.”

Jasper froze. It was subtle. A flicker in time. A crack in the façade he wore so carefully. But inside, every alarm in him blared like wildfire sirens.

Her tone wasn’t casual. It wasn’t a compliment. It was a statement edged with meaning, calibrated like a scalpel. And she said it softly , not to hide the words from Elowen—who was no doubt listening at the foot of the stairs—but because she knew he would hear it. No matter how low she spoke.

His muscles locked, spine rigid as though turned to ice. For a heartbeat, everything in the world slowed—then lurched violently into motion inside his mind.

He reached for the usual explanations—contacts, a rare genetic trait, allergies—but the scripts he’d used for decades scattered like dry leaves in a storm. Because then she said it.

“I thought they could only be red.”

His dead heart didn’t beat, but it still dropped . Cold spread through his chest, through his limbs, like frostbite devouring a man who didn’t realize he was already dying.

She knew .

Not suspected. Not wondered.

She knew what he was.

And he was no longer just a nervous boy picking up a girl for a date—he was something other now. Something that didn't belong in the warm, cluttered beauty of this house.

His mind twisted with questions— How? When? Did Elowen know too? Was this a trap? Was this a warning? The thoughts rushed in too fast, too loud, piling on top of one another, too many for even his century-honed discipline to sort.

He stared at Lucille, eyes narrowing slightly—not in threat, but in stunned, raw calculation. He’d faced enemy lines, Volturi threats, newborn armies. But this— this —this quiet moment on a stairwell with a woman old enough to remember the dust bowl, holding a box that didn’t need lifting, unspooling his entire carefully contained existence with a single sentence?

It chilled him to the bone.

And yet—her emotions didn’t spike. They didn’t tremble with fear, or hatred, or revulsion. No. What he felt from her was… calm. Steady. Curious. A bit of sadness. And, beneath that, something that felt suspiciously like acceptance. She wasn’t afraid of him. She wasn’t warning him away.

She was watching . Waiting to see what he would do next.

Elowen’s POV:

She lingered at the foot of the stairs, one hand resting lightly on the banister, straining to catch even the faintest thread of conversation from above. Nothing. Just the soft murmur of her grandmother’s voice—too low, too measured—and silence from Jasper. The kind of silence that felt like noise. Dense. Loaded.

Her stomach twisted. Not in a bad way, not exactly. Just… tight with something she couldn’t name. Worry? Suspicion? The ache of knowing something was happening just beyond her reach? She tried to shake it off.

It was just Nana being Nana. Testing. Prodding. Making things awkward because she didn’t know how not to. Right?

But the more minutes that began to pass made her question that. Five minutes. Ten. Fifteen. Then Jasper reappeared. And the minute she saw him, the twisting turned into a knot.

He descended the stairs slowly, his movements still graceful, but there was a stiffness in his shoulders, a tension that hadn’t been there before. His expression was carefully blank, too blank, and his golden eyes—usually warm and steady when they looked at her—seemed slightly unfocused, like he was still somewhere else.

Shell-shocked. That was the word. He looked shell-shocked like he’d been put on the front lines of war and seen things no human should ever see. 

“You alright?” she asked, her voice pitched gently, trying not to sound too concerned. She stepped forward, offering him her most casual smile. He blinked, as if remembering she was there, and then gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Yes,” he said softly. “Everything is okay.” Liar, she thought. But he was a beautiful liar. Maybe the best she’d ever seen. Lucille appeared a moment later, still at the top of the stairs, holding the box like it actually mattered. Her expression, unlike Jasper’s, was completely unreadable—serene, if not a little smug.

“Well, you two have a good time,” she called down cheerfully, voice far too innocent. “Don’t let him keep you out too late, Elowen.”

“I won't,” Elowen replied automatically, eyes still on Jasper.

He hadn’t moved. Not really. He stood just a little too still, like he was made of porcelain and afraid to crack.

“Take care of my Dove, Jasper,” Lucille said, and before he could offer her assurance she disappeared around the corner, leaving only the echo of her words behind.

Elowen grabbed her purse and coat, trying to shake the strange chill clinging to her spine. Jasper held the door for her, polite and wordless, and when they stepped out into the cold night air, she caught herself glancing up at him again.

His jaw was tight. His gaze kept drifting, unfocused. Whatever had happened up there—whatever Nana had said —it had knocked something loose in him.

And he wasn’t telling her what.

Not yet, anyway.

Chapter Text

As Jasper navigated the winding, tree-lined roads towards town, Elowen’s thoughts spun faster than the tires on the slick pavement. The snowflakes danced in the beams of the headlights, but her gaze was fixed on him—the careful set of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders, and the way his knuckles whitened slightly as they gripped the steering wheel. Her thoughts circled one thing like a hawk in slow descent: whatever conversation he’d had with her Nana before they left.

He had looked... shaken. And Jasper Hale didn’t seem like the kind of man who got shaken. 

“Is everything okay?” she asked carefully, her voice soft in the stillness of the car. “I mean… with my Nana?” Her eyes flicked over to him, honey-blond hair, sharp profile, skin like polished marble in the muted glow of the dashboard. He didn’t answer right away, and when he did, it was short.

“Yes,” he said, but his voice was clipped. Tight. Then he added, after a brief beat, “She can be, uh… quite frightening.” He let out a small chuckle as if trying to play it off, but it didn’t quite land. It was the kind of laugh people made when they were telling the truth but didn’t want to explain it. Elowen tilted her head toward him, her brows furrowing. She could feel her bottom lip pull between her teeth as she studied him.

Jasper’s golden eyes flicked toward her, and when they met hers, something in his expression softened. “She was just being protective,” he said gently. “She loves you.”

The words, simple as they were, landed like a warm hand pressed to her heart. “I know,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy, charged with all the things unsaid. Her fingers twisted nervously in her lap, nails digging slightly into her palms as the realization crept over her.

This was her first real date.

Not a half-baked hangout at a strip mall. Not fast food in the front seat of a pickup truck. Not a Friday night watching a movie in someone’s basement while pretending it meant something. No.

This had been planned. Thoughtfully, intentionally. She’d stood at the mirror, adjusting the same strand of hair for twenty minutes. She’d panicked about eyeliner, changed her outfit five times, and waited by the door, heart in her throat, until the slow rumble of Carlisle’s car pulled into the drive.

And then there was Jasper, getting out, walking to her front door like he was supposed to. Like she was worth the effort.

Alex never did that. He never knocked. Never stood on the porch with his hands tucked in his pockets and eyes bright when she answered. Never looked at her like he was stunned she’d said yes. But Jasper had.

And that difference, that care , was still echoing in her chest, making her feel giddy and unsteady and suddenly too aware of everything.

She’d been on the phone for hours the night before, curled on her bed while Lila and Sarah squealed through the speaker, helping her choose an outfit. There were pictures flying back and forth, makeup tips, whispered reassurances that yes—this was a date, and yes—he clearly liked her.

And now, here she was. Sitting next to Jasper Hale in the car, his profile illuminated by snowy headlights and the deep shadows of the forest.

This was new. This was terrifying. And this felt like it might matter.

The drive into town was quiet, but not the awkward kind rather, the kind filled with electricity just under the surface. The kind where glances held meaning, and silence didn’t need filling.

Jasper pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, the tires crunching over the packed snow. It was a small, elegant place tucked beneath a canopy of twinkling string lights and nestled between tall pines. The windows glowed warmly, golden light spilling into the cold night like a promise.

Elowen had barely registered that the car was in park before Jasper was out, moving with that same preternatural ease she could never quite figure out. Before she could reach for her handle, her door swung open to reveal him standing there, one hand extended, eyes warm and steady.

“Miss Reed,” he said, voice like velvet, a touch of mischief in the way he said her name.

Elowen blinked up at him, caught off guard by the formality, and then smiled, slipping her hand into his. His palm was cool, fingers steady as he helped her out, ensuring she didn’t wobble on the icy pavement in her heeled boots.

“You’re going to spoil me,” she teased as he closed the door behind her.

“That’s the plan,” he replied, and something in his tone made her heart flutter. He offered his arm, and she slipped hers through without hesitation. The snow had begun to fall again, soft and slow, dusting Jasper’s shoulders in a light shimmer as he led her to the restaurant door.

But he didn’t just walk her in, he opened the door for her with a smooth pull, stepping aside as if ushering royalty into a ballroom. “After you,” he said with a slight bow of his head.

Elowen stepped through, cheeks flushing from more than just the cold. The warmth inside greeted her instantly, rich with the scents of rosemary, butter, and something faintly sweet. A soft string of music drifted through the dining room, the atmosphere cozy and upscale without being stuffy.

They were greeted by the hostess—who blinked up at Jasper like he’d stepped out of a dream—but Jasper didn’t even notice. His attention never strayed from Elowen.

“Reservation for Hale,” he said gently.

“Right this way,” the hostess replied, leading them to a quiet corner by the window, candlelight flickering on the table in soft golden waves. Before Elowen could touch the chair, Jasper was already there, pulling it out with perfect precision.

She gave him a look—half amused, half breathless—as she sat. “You really don’t let a girl lift a finger, do you?”

He moved around the table and took his seat, smiling faintly. “Not if I can help it.” Any sign of Jaspers previous worry from the conversation with her grandmother had melted away like the snow in spring. 

Elowen tucked her hair behind her ear, smiling down at the menu but not really seeing it. Her heart was still tripping over itself from the way he looked at her, the way he moved, the way he treated her. And for the first time in her life, she felt like she wasn’t trying to measure up. Like she wasn’t too much, or too strange, or someone to be settled for.

Tonight, she felt wanted.

“Do you see anything you like?” Jasper asked, his voice smooth as velvet and just as rich.

His golden eyes lifted from the leather-bound menu and met hers, pinning her gently but completely. Elowen froze for a moment, her breath catching in her throat.

How did he do that? Look at her like that—like she was the only person in the room? The soft candlelight flickered in his eyes, casting delicate amber shadows across his sharp cheekbones and jaw. He didn’t even look real. He looked like something carved from starlight and old poetry. It was still jarring to look at him in his infinite beauty. 

“Yes,” she blurted, her voice slightly too high. Her face went crimson almost instantly. God. She definitely hadn’t been talking about anything on the menu. Her gaze dropped in a panic to the page in front of her, searching for the first thing her eyes could land on.

“The, uh…” she stammered, fingers tapping the edge of the menu, “The shrimp scampi sounds good.” She peeked back up to see if he’d caught on. Of course he had; there was that small, knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

But then something shifted. Her eyes flitted down the list of entrees again, this time really seeing the prices. Her stomach gave a nervous twist. Thirty-eight dollars for the scampi. Forty-two for the steak. Even the roasted chicken was almost thirty. She swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of the thin wallet tucked into her coat pocket.

“I think I’ll actually just stick with the salad,” she said quickly, her voice light but tight around the edges. “Maybe the house one with vinaigrette?”

Jasper’s brow furrowed slightly, and he tilted his head, his menu lowering just an inch. “Are you sure?”

Elowen bit her lip, eyes dropping to her lap. “I… I didn’t really bring enough for anything else,” she admitted softly. “I didn’t realize this place was, y’know… this nice.” There was a beat of silence. Then, Jasper slowly set his menu down on the white tablecloth, folding his hands together like he was composing himself.

“Elowen,” he said, his drawl a touch sharper now—not in irritation at her, but at the very idea she’d feel that way around him. “This is my invitation. I brought you here. My apologies if I didn’t make that clear.”

She blinked, looking up at him again. He leaned forward slightly, earnest now, his voice gentle but unmistakably firm.

“You could order two of everything on that menu, and I’d still be glad you came. You don’t pay for anything tonight. Not when you’re with me.”

Elowen felt her breath catch again but this time, it had nothing to do with prices or menus. There was something in his eyes that rooted her to the spot. Not just warmth or charm, but intent. Care. A kind of quiet devotion that wrapped around her so tightly she could barely breathe.

“You’re not just worth a nice dinner, Elowen,” Jasper added, his voice a shade lower now, “you deserve everything this world has to offer.” The candlelight danced between them, and for a long, aching moment, Elowen forgot the menu, the restaurant, the rest of the world. Just him. Just that voice. Just this.

“Are you sure?” She asked nervously. 

“I’ve never been more sure about anything,” He said with a gentle finality.

 “Okay,” she said softly. Then, with a small smile that curled at the corners of her lips, “In that case… I’ll have the shrimp scampi” Jasper grinned, and there was something pleased—no, relieved —in his expression, like her acceptance of his care meant more than he could put into words.

Just then, the waiter arrived, quiet as snowfall, dressed in crisp black with a notepad poised in hand.

“Are we ready to order?” he asked, with a polite smile.

Jasper nodded and gestured to Elowen first. She straightened subtly in her seat, the heat still lingering on her cheeks. “Yes, I’ll have the shrimp scampi,” she said, her voice gaining steadiness, “and a Sprite, please.” The waiter nodded, jotting it down quickly before turning to Jasper.

“And for you, sir?”

Jasper closed his menu with a fluid, almost practiced motion, setting it gently aside. “The ribeye,” he said, “Rare please. And just water.”

The waiter blinked, just for a second, but then nodded with a courteous smile. “Of course. I’ll get that in right away.” He vanished just as quietly as he came, leaving the candle’s golden glow to wrap back around them.

Elowen toyed with the edge of her napkin, her pulse finally beginning to slow. She looked across the table and found Jasper watching her with a kind of ease, like he had been waiting to simply be in this moment with her.

She leaned forward a little, her smile soft and genuine now. “Thank you. For this. All of it.”

Jasper’s lips curved again. “You’re welcome.”

But beneath Jasper’s carefully calm exterior, his slow smiles, his steady eyes, Elowen sensed something more. Not nervousness, not awkwardness, but weight. A quiet gravity that clung to the space between them like mist. It wasn’t tension. It was meaning. As if tonight wasn’t just a date.  As if it was a turning point. As if they were stepping, unknowingly, into something deeper than either of them had prepared for.

And the strangest part? She wasn’t scared. In fact, she felt like she’d been walking toward this moment for a long time.

Clearing her throat gently, she broke the silence with a question meant to tether them back to something simple. “How was your Christmas with your family?” Jasper looked like he was about to answer when her eyes suddenly widened, her hand flying to her chest as her expression shifted into something close to horror.

“Oh my gosh,” she gasped. “I’m so sorry!”

Jasper blinked, visibly startled by her sudden shift. “For what?” he asked, his brow furrowed in quiet concern.

“I forgot to thank you for my gift,” she said, her voice breathless with guilt. “It was beautiful, Jasper. Thank you.” His expression relaxed, that soft, crooked smile returning but there was a flicker of something else, like her gratitude meant more than she could understand.

Elowen reached down, rustling softly through her purse. “And… I got you something too,” she added, pulling out a small, carefully wrapped box. The paper was deep green, tied with a thin ribbon of silver. Nothing extravagant, but clearly thoughtful.

She set it gently on the table and looked at him with wide, nervous eyes. “It’s not much,” she said quietly. “But I… I wanted you to have it.” Her voice grew smaller at the end, her confidence fading under the enormity of the moment. She felt young suddenly, like someone offering a gift to someone who might never need anything at all.

Jasper didn’t reach for the box right away. He stared at it, and then at her, as though the gesture itself had carved open something in his chest he didn’t know how to name.

Jasper’s eyes lingered on the small gift box, the candlelight glinting off the silver ribbon wound tightly around deep green wrapping paper. He didn’t reach for it immediately. Instead, he stared at it like it was something sacred like it might disappear if he wasn’t careful.

Then, with deliberate care, he took it in his hands, the paper crinkling softly beneath his fingers as he untied the ribbon. Elowen sat across from him, her spine straight but her fingers nervously fidgeting in her lap.

“It’s really not much,” she said again, voice just above a whisper. “Just something I found and thought of you.”

Jasper tilted his head slightly at her, brow furrowed but not with confusion. With something gentler. “That already makes it too much,” he murmured.

He peeled back the wrapping, opened the small box, and paused.

Nestled inside, resting against a bed of black velvet, was an antique brass compass. Its casing was delicately worn, with tiny etchings of ivy curling around the edge like it had been carried for years. When he lifted it from the box, it was heavier than it looked—solid, purposeful.

Inside the lid, there was a small inscription etched into the metal: “So you always find your way back.” —E. Jasper’s thumb traced the worn curve of the compass. He stared at it in silence for several moments, something unreadable flickering across his expression.

“I saw it in this little antique shop in town,” Elowen explained quietly. “I wasn’t sure why, but it reminded me of you. I thought maybe you’d like it you know because you like history and well I just thought you might … at least find it interesting.”

She gave a nervous laugh, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I guess I liked the idea of something old still knowing where it’s going.” Jasper didn’t speak at first. He was still looking at the compass—more like, studying it. Holding it like it was more than a gift. Like it was something he hadn’t known he needed until it was in his hands.

When his eyes finally lifted to meet hers, there was something ancient and raw in them. Something stirred.

“Most people don’t think twice about direction,” he said quietly, his voice thick. “They just assume they’ll always know where they’re going.” He closed the compass carefully, reverently, and looked at her as if she had just handed him something irreplaceable.

“But this…” His jaw clenched just slightly. “I love it. Thank you. Truly.” Her breath hitched. And for a moment, she didn’t know what to say.

Then she gave him a crooked smile and whispered, “I'm glad you like it.” Jasper tucked the compass back into the box with the same care he might show to something priceless, sliding it beside him like it had always belonged there.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever given me something that meant this much,” Jasper said quietly, his voice low and almost reverent. He turned the small object over in his hand again. His golden eyes lifted to meet hers, warm despite the ever-present undertone of old pain that never quite left his expression.

Elowen smiled, her lips curling shyly as her cheeks warmed. She looked down into her glass, letting the rim briefly hide her flustered grin before taking a sip. The candlelight caught the faint flush on her skin and made her eyes seem even brighter.

“Well,” he said, trying to sound casual but unable to stop the softness in his tone, “To answer your original question… my Christmas was really nice. But I did miss you.”

“You did?” Elowen leaned in slightly, her posture still composed but her interest unmistakable. The corners of her mouth twitched into something close to a smile.

“Very much so,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. And just as the air between them started to hum with something electric, the waiter arrived, breaking the spell with the clink of plates and the aroma of rich, decadent food.

The dishes were artfully arranged, seared shrimp scampi glazed with sauce and thyme for her, something rare and bloody for him. The steam curled up from her plate in delicate spirals, and for a second, Elowen forgot where she was. Fork in hand, she dove into the meal with enthusiasm, her earlier nerves giving way to comfort.

Halfway through her first bite, she blinked, catching herself mid-chew, and looked up with a sheepish smile. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “This is insanely good.”

Jasper chuckled softly, resting his elbow on the edge of the table and watching her with an intensity that made her pulse skip. “Don’t apologize,” he said. “You look… happy.”

“I am,” she said, her voice softer now, almost a whisper. “I really am.”

There was something unguarded in the way she said it. Jasper’s gaze lingered on her, as if trying to memorize the shape of those words as they left her mouth. He didn’t say anything right away, but the look he gave her said more than words could’ve managed.

As dinner stretched on, the air between them settled into something easier, something that felt surprisingly natural. Their conversation turned toward his family, then hers and with each new story, another layer peeled back.

Jasper spoke of Christmas in Alaska, where his cousins lived; a snowy, secluded visit filled with frigid walks and even colder silence at times. He told Elowen about his cousin who insisted on marathon board game nights, even when everyone else clearly wanted to do anything else. “We were five minutes into Monopoly and already regretting our choice,” he said, eyes twinkling faintly.

Elowen laughed, sipping her drink as she leaned in a little closer. “Please tell me you at least let them win once.”

He arched his brow. “Absolutely not. I may not enjoy the game, but I respect the battlefield.”

That set her off into a fit of giggles. “So you’re a ruthless board game player. Duly noted.”

He grinned, then told her about the “snowball wars” he and Emmett had started in the woods behind the cabin. “Not fights,” he clarified. “Wars. Trench warfare. Forts. Booby traps. Emmett once rigged a slingshot out of a tree branch and a bungee cord.”

“No way,” she said, eyes wide. “Did it work?”

“Oh, it worked. I had a snowball hit me so hard I swear you could see cartoon birds flying around my head.” She nearly choked on her water from laughing, covering her mouth with a napkin. 

It was her turn then. Elowen lit up as she talked about spending Christmas with her grandparents—how her grandfather still insisted on carving the turkey even though he could barely see straight without his glasses, and how her grandmother made the same peppermint fudge every year, no matter how many times Elowen told her it was too sweet.

She proudly showed off the necklace they’d gifted her. Jasper leaned in to look, and for a second his hand brushed hers. Cold. She noticed it, but didn’t pull away. Just filed the detail somewhere quiet in the back of her mind.

“It’s beautiful,” he said, eyes lingering on the necklace and maybe a little longer on her collarbone before flicking back to her eyes. “Just like you.”

Color crept into her cheeks again, but she kept going, laughing as she told him about a chaotic day shopping with her best friend Lila, and how Danny, the group’s self-proclaimed daredevil, had talked her into sledding down a massive hill behind the old community center.

“It looked fine from the top,” she said, waving her fork for emphasis. “Then halfway down I realized it was basically a launch ramp. I went airborne.”

Jasper’s eyes widened slightly. “You flew ?”

“I crashed ,” she corrected, grinning. “Landed on my tailbone. Thought I shattered it. And my wrist was a mess for days.”

He looked concerned as his eyes scanned what he could see of her body as if assessing her for any sign of pain. “You alright now?”

“Mostly,” she said, wiggling her fingers playfully. “I’ve regained full control of my limbs, thank you.”

“I’ll try not to challenge you to any winter sports anytime soon.”

“Wise,” she said, mock-serious. “I’m dangerous with a sled.”

Their laughter slowly softened, tapering off into a gentle silence that settled between them like a worn-in blanket, familiar, warm, and unspoken. The kind of quiet that didn’t need filling.

Jasper turned to look out the window, his profile illuminated by the golden streetlights spilling in through the glass. Snow had begun to fall again, drifting in slow, unhurried flakes that glowed like ash-white embers against the deepening night. 

When he turned back, his eyes found hers and Elowen realized she’d been watching him. Not just glancing. Watching.

His face was so still, so composed, but there was something in his eyes that never stopped moving. Like a tide beneath a frozen lake. And yet, when he met her gaze, the smallest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, gentle and unbearably sweet, like he couldn’t believe she was really looking at him like that. The thought made Elowen want to laugh. 

After dinner, he handled everything without question. The moment the server set the bill down, Jasper had scooped it up in a single, graceful motion—swift, practiced, almost surgical. Elowen had leaned over, playfully trying to steal a peek at the total, but he’d angled the paper just out of her reach with an effortless flick of his wrist, his fingers pinning it down like a guarded secret.

“Not a chance,” he’d murmured, his voice velvet-soft, and something in his tone made her heart flutter with quiet electricity. She hadn’t argued much. Just smiled and rolled her eyes, secretly warmed by the way he insisted on caring for her even in the smallest ways.

He’d helped her into her coat, his hands moving with a careful, almost reverent grace. The brush of his fingers against her shoulders, the gentleness with which he adjusted the collar; it all made her breath catch in her throat. There was an old-world courtesy to him. Something from another time, another way of being. But it never felt performative. It felt true and genuine. 

And just as they stepped toward the door, ready to begin their quiet winter walk, he paused. His expression flickered just slightly and then he turned to her with an apologetic softness in his gaze.

“Would you excuse me a moment?” he asked, his voice suddenly tight, strained at the edges. His features, usually so composed, pinched just slightly as if something unseen had curled a hand around his ribs.

She blinked at the change. “Restroom?”

He gave a small nod, his golden eyes flickering away, and then he turned, disappearing around the corner of the restaurant with that same smooth, silent grace but this time it felt different. Not elegant. Escaping.

Elowen remained by the door, the lingering warmth of his hand still ghosting across her shoulder. She stared at the space he had just vacated, her brow furrowing in the way it always did when her thoughts started to spiral. Something had shifted. Discomfort, maybe?

She gnawed lightly on her bottom lip, trying to think back. Replay the last few minutes in her mind like film. Had she said something wrong? Made some joke that didn’t land? Was it the bill? The eye contact? The way she couldn’t stop watching him, as if she was afraid he might vanish into smoke if she looked away for too long? Her stomach curled inward as the silence stretched around her.

An older couple stepped through the front doors just then, brushing snowflakes from their coats and laughing about the cold. Elowen instinctively offered them a small, polite smile, though it felt brittle on her face. They returned it warmly and moved past her, leaving a gust of chilled air and the scent of winter clinging to their wool.

She folded her arms across her chest, partly for warmth, partly to contain the growing unease blooming behind her ribs. Was he feeling unwell?

That thought offered a sliver of relief. It was winter, after all. Maybe he’d eaten too little—or too much. Maybe the cold had gotten to him. Or maybe he was just overwhelmed. Social things could be weird. First dates even more so. But the explanations, while logical, didn’t feel right.

She glanced toward the hallway where he’d vanished, the questions starting to tangle in her mind like windblown threads: Was he regretting this? Was it me? Did I come on too strong? Not strong enough?

The disappointment was a slow, heavy thing, coiling deeper in her gut like a serpent curling into sleep. But beneath it quieter, sharper, and far more dangerous was something else.

Suspicion. It slithered in on cold feet, unwelcome but impossible to ignore. She’d noticed the oddities of Jasper more often than not, not only of him but his entire family. She’d chalked it up to weird family dynamics. But now… maybe she shouldn’t have.

And then—

“You ready?”

She jumped at the sound of his voice.

Jasper was back. Just as suddenly as he had vanished, he reappeared, stepping into view with a smile that looked warm and far too easy . His posture was relaxed, his expression open flush with calm relief, like whatever storm had passed through him was gone without a trace.

It didn’t make sense. It shouldn’t have been that easy. He had looked like he was unraveling only minutes ago, and now... now he looked like he could’ve walked straight off the cover of a winter romance novel. As if his emotional barrier hadn’t just done a complete one-eighty. Elowen blinked, trying to catch up.

“Y-Yeah,” she said, her voice coming out thinner than she meant it to. Her head was still spinning, thoughts colliding with each other like ice floes in a dark river.

He smiled again and stepped ahead to open the door for her, the little brass bell above it giving a soft chime as cold air spilled in from outside. Snowflakes danced in on the breeze, melting as they touched the tile floor. The scent of woodsmoke and roasted garlic was quickly replaced by clean, sharp winter air.

She stepped past him, murmuring a quiet thank you, and felt his eyes on her—not heavy, not invasive. Just… watching.

Like he always did. Only now, she couldn’t tell if it was admiration or calculation. Her boots crunched softly on the salted walkway outside, but her heart made no sound. It just thudded, quiet and unsure, as she tried not to shiver.

“Are you okay?”

The words slipped out before her brain could catch them, tumbling into the open air like steam off a cup of tea. Jasper turned his head slightly, eyes finding hers under the soft glow of a streetlamp. The snow reflected in the gold of his irises, making them gleam brighter than they should have. His brow lifted just barely.

“Of course I am,” he said, a hint of amusement curling at the edge of his voice. “Why wouldn’t I be?” Elowen’s breath curled visibly in front of her, and she looked away, focusing on the crunch of their boots against the thin crust of snow on the sidewalk.

“I don’t know…” She gave a soft, awkward laugh and rubbed her gloved hands together. “You just seemed a little off before you went to the restroom. Like maybe you were upset. Or sick? Or something.”

Even as the words left her, they felt foolish. She winced inwardly, cursing her own mouth. Maybe she was reading too much into things. Overthinking, like always. Creating little storms where there were only clouds.

Jasper cleared his throat gently. “Dinner didn’t settle well,” he said coolly, casually, like it was the truth and nothing more. She looked at him—really looked this time. He didn’t wince. Didn’t avoid her eyes. But something about the smoothness of it was too… clean. Too prepared. Like he’d practiced the line.

“Oh,” she said quietly, shrinking into her coat just a little. Her cheeks burned, not from the cold. “Okay.”

They walked on, side by side, the silence blooming again but not the comfortable kind from earlier. This one felt thinner, more fragile. Like spun glass stretched between them, one wrong step from cracking.

The snow had thickened into soft flurries now, floating down in graceful spirals. The lamplight turned every flake into something glittering. Trees on either side of the path were dipped in silver, branches heavy and bare, and the whole world felt hushed like they were walking through the set of a snow globe that hadn’t been shaken in a while.

Jasper’s hands were in his coat pockets, his shoulders slightly hunched, not tense, exactly, but not relaxed either. She watched him from the corner of her eye, trying to decode the quiet.

Was it just cold? Was he really not feeling well? Or was he hiding something?

A breeze curled past, making her shiver, and without a word, Jasper shifted closer. His shoulder brushed hers for just a second, a simple, unconscious move and yet it sent a flush of warmth up her neck.

She didn’t say anything. Just let the silence stretch. But her thoughts spun like the snow. Something had definitely shifted. And the worst part? She didn’t know if she was imagining it… or if he was just very, very good at pretending.

The doubt clung to her like the cold, thin but persistent, crawling beneath her coat and into her chest. The quiet between them wasn’t easing, and the weight of it pressed down on her more with every step.

“I’m sorry if I’m ruining the date,” she blurted, her breath puffing out in quick, white clouds. “I just—I think I’m just nervous, and it’s making me imagine things.” Jasper glanced over at her, his face unreadable in the soft yellow glow of the streetlights. For a moment, he didn’t respond. Just watched her with those golden, impossibly still eyes.

“Imagine what?” he asked, his voice soft, almost too careful, as they rounded the corner onto a quieter street. The path ahead was nearly untouched, only a few sets of footprints etched into the snow ahead of them. The world was quieter here, away from the buzz of the town square; just the two of them and the sound of their steps crunching through snow.

She let out a nervous laugh, wrapping her arms tighter around herself. “I don’t even know,” she admitted. “I think… I think you’re just too good to be true, so my brain is short-circuiting. Looking for a flaw. Or trying to sabotage it before something actually goes wrong.”

It sounded silly now, said out loud. But it was the truth. Jasper didn’t respond right away. His breath streamed out visibly, curling like smoke in the cold air. He was quiet again—not that stiff, guarded silence from earlier, but something more thoughtful. Softer.

“Too good to be true,” he repeated, almost under his breath as if tasting the phrase.

She peeked up at him, heart thudding quietly. “I mean—you open doors and pay for dinner and you treat me like I matter. Like I’m something fragile but still capable, you know? And that’s new for me. And maybe my mind just… doesn’t trust it yet.”

She hadn’t meant to say that much. The words just kept spilling. He finally looked down at her, and this time, his expression had changed. The mask was still there but it had cracked just a little. Something raw flickered beneath it.

“You do matter,” he said, his voice lower than before. “You’re not imagining that part.”

Her breath caught, just for a second. Their steps slowed, and for a heartbeat, the world felt entirely still. The snow, the sky, the city, even time itself. It all stopped to let that truth hang between them.

Elowen swallowed hard, unsure of what to say in return. The wind picked up slightly, tugging a strand of her hair loose from her scarf. She was suddenly aware of how close they were walking now, barely a breath of space between them.

 Elowen could hear the soft tick of her own pulse in her ears. She looked up at him, snow dusting the shoulders of his dark coat, and suddenly he seemed impossibly distant and impossibly close all at once.

And then, he said it. Barely above a whisper, like it might shatter if spoken too loudly. “You matter more to me than anyone in the world.”

She blinked.

The words struck like a bell in her ches, tclean, clear, and deeply impossible.

Jasper stared straight ahead as he said it, as if the snow-covered sidewalk could anchor him. But his voice was tight, like the truth had caught in his throat on the way out and he wasn’t sure whether to let it go or pull it back.

“I know that sounds like too much,” he added quickly, still not looking at her. “Maybe it is too much. I’m usually better at… keeping things to myself. I’ve had practice. A lot of it.” He gave a small, hollow laugh, but there was no humor in it.

“But you…” His jaw flexed slightly. “You’ve torn straight through all of that. Every bit of it. I’ve never felt…God, I’ve never felt anything like this before. Not like this.” She turned to face him fully.

His eyes finally met hers, and she saw it…all of it. The fear. The awe. The desperate hope he was trying to bury beneath that carefully polite expression. It cracked around the edges like ice under pressure.

“I’m not just saying something nice to say it,” he continued, softer now. “You matter to me, Elowen. You already do. More than anyone. And I know that’s not fair, or reasonable, or even safe to say this early, but it’s the truth. And I’m terrified of messing this up. Of saying the wrong thing. Of pushing too hard. Of losing you before I ever have the chance to have you.”

The last words hit like a confession. He didn’t flinch, but something in his posture had changed like he was bracing for her to turn away. Elowen’s heart thudded so hard it felt like it was trying to speak for her. No one had ever said something like that to her. Not like this. With this kind of weight. With this much truth.

Snow fell in soft, swirling silence around them, catching in her hair, her lashes. For a moment, the whole world felt like it had stepped aside to let this moment live. And she didn’t know what to say. Because she was afraid, too. Not of him. But of how much she wanted to believe him. For a heartbeat—maybe two—they just stood there.

Jasper wasn’t breathing. She could tell. He didn’t even blink. He watched her like she was both salvation and executioner, like he didn’t know if she was about to say thank you or goodbye. Elowen's heart was slamming against her ribs, wild and loud.

And still—still—that voice in her head whispered all the old fears. Too soon.   Too intense.   Too much. But underneath it, beneath every doubt and second-guess was something deeper.

Truth.

  She didn’t know what this was between them. It didn’t make sense. It didn’t have to. Because she believed him. Not just the words. But the way he said them. The way he looked at her like she was something holy that he would fall down onto his knees and worship, something he wasn’t sure he was allowed to touch.

And that was what finally undid her. It wasn’t the intensity but the reverence. So she stepped closer.

Elowen rose onto her toes, just a little and gently, carefully, she pressed her lips to his. Jasper froze. Completely, utterly still. For half a second, she thought maybe she’d made a mistake.

But then, his hands, so careful, so impossibly gentle, rose to cradle her face as if she were made of glass and moonlight. His lips moved against hers with devastating slowness, like he’d dreamed of this moment for a hundred years and couldn’t quite believe it was real.

He kissed her like a secret, like a promise, like a man drowning, finally breathing again.

The world vanished. No snow. No night. No questions. No suspicion.  Just the warmth of him. The impossible rightness of it.

When she finally pulled back, her breath caught again from the way he was looking at her.

Like she’d just rewritten every law of nature, like he’d found the stars again.

Jasper swallowed hard, his voice hushed and hoarse. “Elowen…” She smiled, still breathless, heart pounding like it wanted to leap into his hands. Even if she didn’t understand why. Even if there were questions waiting in the dark. In that moment, under the snow and the silence and the golden glow of falling light—

She chose him.