4. Steady

So I'm here again, huh?

"It's not alright, Charlie," I placed my hand on the stone. "But it can't get any worse than this."

Then I felt him. The familiar stinging scent, the slow rhythmic beating of his heart.

"Jacob," I greeted coolly, when he was a few feet behind me. I dared not look at him; it was easier that way.

"Bella," he sounded sympathetic, but there was something keeping his voice.. airy. "I know what happened."

My eyes widened. He knew?

"Edward left me a note." Ah. I couldn't help but feel Edward had betrayed me. But he's forever gone, and only I can come to him. But I had to make as many things right as possible.

"I'm guessing the note explained everything?"

Jacob moved closer, and I felt warmth radiating off his body. "If by everything you mean his death, and his hope for you and me."

I looked at him then, taking in his appearance. He looked so... hurt. How can someone so strong be affected by someone as small as me?

Did I want to take the chance? Did he? "What do you want to do about it?"

Jacob sided next to me, and the thumping of his chest quickened. "Whatever you want."

"Whatever I want?" Did he enjoy making me guilty? "No. I want to know what you would like to do with it. The rest of your life—or mine, depending on your choice."

And just for a second, I see his face light up with a smile. A genuine happy curve of the lips. I turned my cold body to face his.

"So..." I whispered. He moved closer. "What will it be?"

It was the slowest of movements, and that deep drumming sound made everything all the more suspenseful. His hesitant hand traced my jawline, and his burning skin felt agonizingly appealing.

It was with the shyest of confidence, that his hand ventured the length of my neck, and, with careful fingers, I risked caressing his face. The blush that formed in the dark color of his cheeks—it was... enjoyable to watch, to say the very least. Was this how Edward felt when I used to flush crimson?

"Bella..." was his whisper, and his scorching breath blew shivers in my face. He was a source of everything—my warmth, my frost; then my happiness, my gloom.

"Jacob," I concluded, "I can't figure you out." I couldn't figure this—whatever this type of love was.

He drew a ragged breath, and I closed my eyes at his nervousness. We both didn't know how to proceed with our life. We had the chance for a life together, but we didn't know how to get it.

But he took the next step, and pressed his lips against mine.

I never knew what it was that Alice and the others saw that caused reason to despise werewolves. I mean, the scent isn't appealing, but it wasn't revolting. It just smelled like the forest. Whatever prejudices each side held, I didn't see a good enough reason to stop any sort of friendship between us. I'm guessing the same went for Jacob.

The joining of our extreme temperatures gave the most painful pleasure, and I wanted to stop, but it didn't seem possible. This feeling of fire—it seemed to enter my entire being. How can lips affect me so? They not only reached my eager mouth, but my core. Didn't I tell you?—crazy.

We were in full embrace, and my arms were clasped around his neck, pulling his head down to my level. Jacob took me in his arms, carrying me sideways, and I just put more fervor in our affections. I could feel tears streaming down his face, and I hoped they were from happiness.

Jacob repeated my name, while I communicated without words. I was at a loss of them. I couldn't believe it; I—we had chosen.