AN: Welcome to Always:Rewrite. As I read through what I had of this story previously, I realized that it was just not enough information! There needed to be background, details, conflict, and dialogue. MORE IS BETTER! Honestly, with college, I might not update often, but summer is soon, so be prepared for this story (and maybe my other) to be finished! Also, I still have the original version posted. It is pretty similar, but you can tell the difference in length. I am going to post the chapters as I complete them. If you want to see where the story will be heading, read the original. If you like a mystery, then stay here. Well, enjoy, and Review!
Disclaimer: Just with the prologue, I double the amount of words! Oh, know this is not beta-ed. (But I am searching!) All grammar mistakes are my own. Also, I own none of the characters in this story, unless they didn't appear in the original books. In that case, they are mine.
Prologue
The brown cottage lay near the edge of the woods. It wasn't extravagant by any means. My father didn't believe in having more than the others. My family was complicit. We didn't need extravagant belongings. The house was built by my grandfather, a few years before he took his own life. It held seven rooms: two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a dining, a kitchen, and a living. I was currently in the living. It was quite large. The hardwood floors shined bright when light from outside hit it. The furniture was handmade. Most of it was donated by villagers as a token of gratitude to my father. They all adored him. It was sickening.
But it didn't matter what I thought of my father. What matter was him.
I saw his outline as I peeked out the golden framed window in the living. He shouldn't be here, but he was. Every night.
His blonde hair draped softly off his broad shoulders. It was long, curly. I had the urge to run outside to him just so I can pull my fingers through the curls, watching them unfold then spring back to place as I got to the ends of the last strands. I had done it once before, ran my fingers through his hair, but it was short lived. All of our moments were short lived. They were stolen moments, hidden to the world. I was counting the days to when I could do it again.
He knew I was watching. I could tell by the way he was tensed slightly. He was always on edge. Then again, he was not in his normal territory. He wasn't from Robain. Actually, far from here. A magical peaceful place. I've heard him speak of it. It is where I would rather be, with him.
He had told me once not to look for him, outside the cottage I mean. If someone caught me looking they would know. But I know they are naive to their surrounding, and I just can't not look. His back was against the same tree he had used every time he came; his arms crossed across his chest the same way.
I carved our initials in that tree. It was childish on my part, my teen years evident in the gesture, but I noticed he traced it every time he first appeared.
It was dark outside so I couldn't see his face, but I could visualize the smirk that his lips made, him knowing I was looking. He would fuss at me for this later, as he always did when I stared for too long, but it too would be short lived. He could never stay mad at me.
The door to the living opened behind me, creaking loudly along the way. I wasn't quite worried who it was, as I sensed the person miles away. He didn't flee either. I turned and met the knowing gaze of Alicandra, or Alice a her love and I prefer to call her. My beautiful sister stood before me, her short black hair sticking out over her shoulders. Her hands were clasped together in front of her blue satin dress she wore. Her contempt gaze turned quickly to concern as she noticed my hands on the edge of the green curtain, prying it slightly open to be able to look outside.
"He's here." She stated. It was not a question. He was always here. She knew he was always here. She understood.
"Yes." My voice was strong and bold. My mother once said I was too bold and outspoken. No man could ever want me. She, too, was a fool.
"He will die if they find him." Alice was quieter. My mother said she was compliant. The perfect housewife. She didn't know Alice, either.
"Yes." I turn back to the window to stare at him. He hadn't moved, but his body was more tensed. He was listening.
"He should leave and not return." His body tensed up even more. My hands clenched the curtains tighter. Don't leave. Not yet.
"Yes. But he can't." My voice faltered a bit. He could. But he wouldn't. I don't think.
"No. He can't." Alice knew. She understood. She was in the same position. Forbidden. Love.
We had this conversation every night, Alice and I. It was if we had to challenge ourselves. It was as if we had to remind ourselves that what we were doing was dangerous, that maybe, just maybe, we would change our minds. We knew it was dangerous. I knew it was dangerous for my love and I. Alice knew it was dangerous, for her and her love as well. We shared the same predicament, the same sin, the same evil and such a similar love. But what was evil, that is if love was involved? What could be so sinful about such a love as we had, he and I? Or the love that Alice and her love had, just as strong? I ask myself these questions often. Alice does as well.
"You only have four days." She reminds me again. She doesn't need to remind me. The deadline approaches. I am reminded constantly. Mother. Father. Him.
"I know." I say softly, nodding in agreement. What else was I supposed to say?
"He is a decent man." She says for the world's benefit. At first I'm not sure who she is talking of. For Him, we know it's not true. It is never true.
"He is." I lie as I realize of whom she speaks. She knows I lie. He knows I lie as well. He hasn't left yet, but I can tell he will soon.
"You will leave." There is no question. She knows me well.
"I will, and so will you. We will be our strongest. We will fight." A few more days. Hold on just a few more days.
"We will." She says this last thing, and turns out of the living to go into her own room. My beautiful sister, burdened with choices I have made, yet burdened with her own as well. Fate has a crazy way of dealing out her cards. If they find us out we will be punished, or worse executed. This is a risk we knew we would take. If they find our loves first, then all we would have worked for would be lost, and would it be worth the risk? My heart knew it was, but my head couldn't quite wrap around it.
I stay turned towards the window, searching for him as he had stepped further into the shadows. Knowing my anxiety, he steps into the moonlight. I see him fully. His expression says he must leave.
I take one last look at him, my eyes searching his. They meet, violet to gold. He sees through to my soul, as I through to his. I remember the first time our eyes met.
"Sanai, mon jatai." Goodnight, my love. I knew he heard these words as I whispered them out loud. Even though they weren't his words, he worded them back. He always did.
I close the curtains and make my way through the halls to my bed. He will be the object of my dreams tonight. He always was.
My Jasper. Mon Jatai. My love. Always.