Title: Different Sort of Beautiful
Part I of VII: Humilitas (Humility)
Summary: Seven short glimpses into Bella's new world. Everyone is beautiful in their own way, and everyone has something to teach. Canon. Part I: Jasper.
He's beautiful. Even to her dull human eyes he'd stood out, but with her vision perfected she finally understands what it is about Jasper—Jasper Hale? Jasper Whitlock? that— (Why were even vampires so attached to their first names-? a part of her sprawling mind wonders, but her focus remains on the tense, battle-hardened creature before her.)
Silvery lines glitter along his throat, so fine they look like drained capillaries—but Bella knows better. Some of the scars are jagged, like thick rope burns, and as her over-bright eyes run across each one, she feels the hairs on her body stand, and she finally understands that Jasper is beautiful because of these very imperfections.
These scars spell danger and that very fear alerts the senses, and heightened senses, human or vampire, cannot help but appreciate the fine web of mortality drawn on immortal flesh.
She finally understands what it is about Jasper that makes him beautiful. The imperfections forged on him… the passage of time etched into him like tallies on a jail cell wall, make him look… real. Somehow, seeing Jasper makes Bella feel more human than anything else—and though her heart cannot race, she sometimes feels little bursts of joy beat in her chest when her gaze catches the glint of scar tissue under light.
He is the ultimate reminder that even forever is not to be taken for granted. Every moment is to be respected, to be cherished, and seeing Jasper makes the endless days seem precious rather than monotonous. The seeming invincibility of granite limbs and sprawling memory could feed hubris, and yet when Bella sees Jasper she remembers to appreciate all of their blessings.
They feed into each other, of course. Bella catches sight of Jasper, and though Jasper never quite figures out what the emotion is, it soars—and before they know it they're standing face to face, sitting knee to knee, smiling, grinning, until Nessie comes hollering to show Bella something, or Edward steps in, growling half-jokingly at Jasper to reclaim his mate, or Alice intercedes with a giggle and a catalogue. To be interrupted is inevitable for them, because they never have to breathe, never have to change, never have to leave, and when one has foreverit's easy to lend oneself to such distractions.
Sometimes, they speak. And when they do, it's never the competitive banter Bella loves to engage in with Edward, or the teasing tones she takes with Alice, or the careful, measured words she uses around Rosalie. They speak only when they want to, and only once they are ready, and for minds that can catalog every dust mote, it is easy to pick up where they left off on a conversation even if minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years have passed.
Nessie is playing with the ties of Rose's dress a little ways away, and Bella is sitting cross legged across from Jasper. Edward and Jake are arm wrestling—for Nessie's amusement originally, but pure competition now. A little ways behind Jasper, Alice decorates Jake's "dog house," which was built by Rosalie in a very literal moment. The sun shimmers above them, glittering off their skin and Bella asks:
"Why do you think our names matter so much to us? We drop our last names… that's where all the history is, isn't it? None of our first names are one of a kind—and even names that go out of style come back into vogue after a while…" It's a clichéd question asked by countless people, and before Bella finishes, Emmett's voice recites the most familiar rendition:
"That which we call a Rose—" he begins, appearing quite suddenly to spin Rosalie. The action results in a light tearing sound, and as Rose scowls in the loop of Emmett's arms, Nessie is left holding the ripped ties of her dress. Jake, never one to let a stab at Rose go, is already howling with laughter by the time Emmett finishes: "—by any other name would smell as sweet!"
He looks quite proud of himself, and when he hunches over to kiss her forehead, Rose's lips twitch just slightly, betraying the smile behind the frown.
"Smelling sweet isn't necessarily a good thing, you know," Jake adds in, scrunching his nose even though he'd long ago gotten used to the company of vampires, "I won't argue if you want to choose a more fitting name for her though… like Agnes… or Hellga."
Long after Rosalie has called Jake mutt, cur, and mongrel, in response to Jake's frigid bitch, prissy peacock, vapid princess, Jasper turns to Bella and says:
"It's what our loved ones have always called us. All of them—human or immortal—" He glances over at where Nessie is now making peace between Rose and Jake, and Bella sees a smile touch his lips, "…it might be sentimental, but I think we're allowed at least one humantendency, don't you?"
As he speaks those words, she hears it. Countless voices, beloved in different degrees, calling out her name—Renee, always a little frazzled but bright, Charlie, stern but gentle, Angela's voice over the phone, teachers calling attendance, classmates, Jake, the Pack, Alice's voice dancing, Rosalie, severe but always serious, Esme, whose intonations are soft, always, Carlisle laughing, Emmett growling, and then—Edward, whispering right in her ear, yelling in alarm, reciting her name with reverence on their wedding night, his sweet tone on the beach, on their honeymoon, his broken voice during the pregnancy, his awe-stricken voice upon Renesmee's arrival, the quiet confidence behind it as he declares her the reason for victory over the Volturi…
"Bella," she hears, and all those voices and moments collide into one. Suddenly she is face to face with the present, instead of the past, Jasper looking at her with a bit of concern, a bit of curiosity. She realizes that she's been wholly lost in thought for a few minutes—quite a feat for a vampire—and looking at Jasper, she can't help but smile.
"Sorry. I was having a human moment."