Snowy days like this one – where the frozen rain drifted down from the sky like fairies dancing to their own individual songs to settle on the roofs but melt upon touching the ground – always reminded Isabella of the first and only time she had seen snow in her old home. Houston very rarely saw snow and Isabella knew that it had only snowed a little over 35 times since she died in 1864. The worst day of her life was the only day she'd ever seen snow in her birth place, the only time she'd seen it as a human. She remembered it crystal clearly despite the murkiness of her memories of that time, remembered opening the door, remembered the news that was delivered word by word, remembered collapsing in agony. The pain was the clearest thing. There wasn't much else she remembered from her human life anymore – time had destroyed them in the last 140 years – but the face of the man that the news was in reference to was clear as day. His wavy honey coloured hair that fell just to his collar and his laughing brown eyes that gazed down at her adoringly from his foot taller frame. She adored this man, with all she had, had married him at only sixteen years of age only to be left alone.
The cheering of boys across the cafeteria drew her attention away from the window as she shot them a scathing look before returning to her remising. This time trying to focus on her family: her sheriff father, hare-brained mother and excited little sister. She could no longer remember their faces but knew she had loved them dearly, knew they had a close family friend from across the street who had presented her at her coming of age party.
Heaving a heavy sigh in dismay at her own memory, she turned back to her book. She'd defaced the defenceless book with doodles and scribbles; a shame since it was a copy of her favourite novel. It was uncountable now how many copies of Wuthering Heights she'd had over the years since it had been written when she was still human, only just alive. It was comforting in a way to hold a piece of literature that was almost as old as she was herself. The copy her husband had managed to gift her before he left for war had long since been destroyed. Isabella pulled herself out of her thoughts violently as her thoughts took a turn towards the war.
"So I see you've met the Cullens?" a disgruntled voice appeared at her shoulder and the smell of blood washed over her. Isabelle held her breath at the sudden intrusion, angry that a human had managed to sneak up on her.
"Who?" Isabelle asked, snapping her book shut when she noticed her husband's face staring up at her. A sharp pain pierced her long still heart. Turning to find who had dare approach her when she had purposely sat at a table alone, she studied the boy. He was vaguely good looking she supposed with his light blue eyes and blonde hair but she instantly grimaced at the look in his eyes.
"Cullen," he had the audacity to sit down next to her and gesture to her book. "Technically Hale. You were drawing him?"
Isabelle frowned in confusion. It wouldn't be unusual she supposed if someone looked like her husband. He had many siblings, one of the could have married a Hale for all she knew and passed the genes down to make a Jasper look alike - Isabella sucked in a breath: she tried to avoid thinking his name as much as possible. Still they were a long way from Texas now in Washington. Unable to help herself though, Isabelle twisted to follow this kid's eyes across the room even as other's joined them.
A strange mix of emotion stole over her as she realised he was staring at the group of her kind that she sensed earlier. None of them had made any contact yet but Isabella was sure they'd have to eventually. They were a big coven compared to her lone existence. They would need to know she intended no ham to them and vice versa. As she scanned the table she realised she'd only met two of the five at the table: the bronze haired boy and the black hair girl that his arm was slung around. There three others at the table but only one caught her eyes. He had his back to her but his hair was the colour of honey, wavy and cut to his collar, his frame was lean but muscular and Isabella felt ridiculous as hope bubbled inside her.
"Who are they?" she asked in curiosity as she turned around. The table had now been filled up with two girls, one with wild curly hair and blue eyes, the other with honey streaked hair and gentle brown eyes. The curly hair girl laughed.
"That's Alice and Emmett Cullen, and Edward, Rosalie and Jasper Hale," she told her under her breath as though she someone knew they could hear her. Isabella locked onto the last name. "They all live together with Dr. Cullen and his wife."
Knowing if she was human her heart would have been thudding in her chest, Isabella glanced back at the table whilst talking to her current companions, "which ones Jasper?"
She stumbled on the name but no one seemed to notice. She heard the curly one snort.
"Oh, he's the blonde one that looks like he's in pain," she said in offhand manner. "Gorgeous but odd. I'm Jessica, by the way."
"Isabella," she replied without really meaning to her gaze was fixed across the room, Having watched Jasper's back tense as she spoke her name. "Whitlock."
It had been years since she used her married name or even spoken it herself before she was signing herself up for Forks High School but watching as the Jasper across the room tensed even further and turned around to meet her eyes told her it had been the right choice.
Golden eyes burned into hers from across the room set in a handsome face that she knew instantly. Scars the shaped of crescent moons now littered the once flawless skin she could see and the gasp she let out was more in horror than in happiness. The only thing that damaged this skin was venom and with that knowledge a burning desire to know who and how many had tried to kill him rose within her. Regardless, it was still him and, as that thought took over, everything else faded. He was there. Just a cafeteria width between them for the first time in decades. She watched his eyes drink her eyes, surprise the only emotion she could identify on his face as his lips – lips she had kissed an uncountable amount of times – formed her name. Isabella's lips twitch instinctively into a smile.
"Jasper," she breathed out-loud and suddenly he was on his feet, striding towards her at a determined pace that was only slightly faster than a humans'. She rose to meet him instinctively and was pulled in by his strong arms immediately. Unable to help herself, Isabella wrapped her arms around his neck and snuggled her head against him. "Jasper…Jasper."
He held her tighter as she began murmuring his name into his neck. She could feel him shaking slightly as he did so and pulled back to lay a hand on his cheek. This close she could see even more scars littering his handsome face, particularly around his jaw and neck and softly drifted a finger along the most prominent ones. He let her, standing as still as statue.
As quickly as everything had faded, it all returned twice as fast as the sound of something falling echoed across the cafeteria and Jasper's eyes zoomed from hers back the table from which he'd left. Alice, the girl she'd met in her English class that morning and dropped her tray. Glancing around the room, Isabella realised that they had the whole school attentions but at the same time Jasper's fingers twined themselves with hers and her gaze was instantly back on him without any conscious thought.
"Darlin'," his southern accent was heavy and familiar, "come with me."
Neither knowing or caring where he was taking her, she followed the light pressure of his hand in hers till they reached the car park and suddenly her back was against the wall and his lips were on hers. Isabella wasted no time wrapping her arms around her long-missed husband but before long tearfulness welled up inside her. She attempted to push it down but Jasper was already pulling back and, whilst she let him part their lips, she didn't allow him an inch away from her. He held her as she sobbed tearlessly against his chest, waves of calm reassurance and loving devotion washed around her until she could do nothing but clutch herself to his chest as she soaked it all in. Of course, her charismatic, understanding, charming Jasper would be an empath. She was sure he felt her understanding as the emotions projected to her were now more intense: loneliness of the past, disbelief and relief battling it out in equal measures, love and joy, confusion and curiosity.
"My Jasper," she breathed, finally pulling away to look at him, to study the emotions in his eyes, to just see that he was there. Before she could, however, his eyes flashed at her words, all other emotions wiped away to be replaced with burning love and he lowered her head down to kiss her. This was softer and sweet than before, filling her with love and longing.
"God, I love you," he murmured as he pulled back a couple of inches, hands still cupping her face, eyes still closed.
"After all this time?" she breathed, knowing her love for him had not diminished one bit.
His eyes flickered open revealing his topaz orbs in replace of eyes that had once been brown. A kiss was pressed to the corner of her mouth.
"I'll never stop," he vowed with his lips brushing hers.