Why the Rain?
A low thudding awoke Jasper from his staring into space. It came from outside. He got up to follow the noise, leaning against a strong tree in there lawn. And there she was. Like a scene from a movie, a page from a book—a glimpse from a dream. There she was.
She stood there—barefoot, head thrown back, dark hair soaked—in a white dress with black flowers silhouetted over it.
Jasper knew she had come to see Jake—she'd done that a lot since he'd been hanging out at the Cullen's—but when the thunder shook, the lightning struck, the rain poured…
She couldn't help herself.
For awhile he just watched her. She stood with her hands and arms loose, dangling at her side. And she danced. That was the only way to describe it. She turned in circles, her bare feet gliding around the grass. Finally, he spoke.
"Leah," he murmured, taking a step towards her, "why the rain?"
"I love the rain," she replied, un-dazed by the voice.
"Why?" He asked, taking another step.
"Mmm," she muttered, and stopped turning to face him. "Maybe someday I'll tell you."
She probably never would. This truce was only temporary. It was the rain—it put her in a better mood. Or maybe it was all Jasper's doings. No, it was the rain. She was sure. Still, the truce was only temporary—but in that moment she felt something that she hadn't in the longest time. Was it hope? No. But maybe a glimmer of what hope could be like.
A glimmer of hope that led this truce. That led Jasper to glide over to her, to put his arm around her waist. That led Leah to take his hand when he offered it. That let them to dance.
In the rain.
Why the rain? He probably would never know.