Disclaimer: I don't own any of it, and I make no claims to it.
Late updates are fail. I apologise. Blame University. Thank you all for the support. We made it over 100 reviews! Yay! I am completely blown away. You all deserve hugs and cookies.
LithiumReaper is my fantastically awesome amazing beta with super Yoda powers. She kept me off the ledge with this one, dealt with my obsessive hyperactive rambling over the new Harry Potter movie, and gave me some great ideas for the chapter. Praise her, praise her!
Bella:
"I'm sorry to intrude. I just…uh…well…"
Well what, Bella, what? How could I possibly explain this – me randomly turning up at Jasper's door, on a Friday night, unannounced and soaked with rain? What could possibly authorise this?
Yeah. I had no idea.
I squeezed past Jasper and stepped into the living room. He shut the door behind me and tried to give me some reassurance.
"It's fine. I wasn't doing anything. Here – uh – I can take your raincoat."
Jasper held his hand out graciously, and I eventually managed to peel the coat off. Jasper went to hang the coat up by the door as I glanced around the living room, noticing the half drank beer on the coffee table and the movie on pause.
"Quiet night in?" I noted as he stepped into the room.
He ran a hand through his hair. "Huh. Yeah. Something like that."
"What are you watching?" I asked, picking the DVD case up from the counter. I read the title as he answered.
"Fight Club. It's just starting."
"Fight Club?"
Jasper nodded. Soon, a small smile appeared. "What – do you have a problem with Fight Club?"
I couldn't help but laugh. "No, no. The opposite, actually. I love it."
Jasper smirked. His playful side decided to come out. "I think we're breaking the number one rule, then."
Of course. "Do not talk about Fight Club," I nodded.
Jasper laughed. I smiled. It felt warm. But, as soon as it came, the warm feeling started to leave when Jasper indicated to the bedroom. "So…uh…did you want to…well, you know?"
The thought hadn't even crossed my mind.
I knew that I looked surprise at the suggestion. I had forgotten what we were. "Oh, no, I don't. I…uh…I should go."
I headed for the door. I had barely taken three steps when I felt a soft hand on my elbow. I spun around to see Jasper right there.
I looked confused. So did he. The whole thing was very out of the ordinary.
"You…you don't have to go," he said, removing his hand quickly. I didn't answer, still coping with the surprise. I could see the hesitation in his eyes as he continued. "I mean, I have a pizza coming. Why don't you stay and watch the movie with me?"
I raised an eyebrow. Jasper saw my hesitation immediately.
"I know that there are rules, but you kind of broke them first by coming here and not intending to have sex," he pointed out. I nodded. This was true. "And plus, it's not like this is a date or anything. The movie is hardly romantic. It's just two people watching a movie and chowing down on some pizza. What do you think?"
Tempting. It was very tempting. I could still feel the reservations about it. It just wasn't what we were, and I kept remembering all of the bad times back in Forks that put a dark cloud over us now. But still, I was tempted. It was exactly what I needed. A violent, angry movie with psychotic tendencies was the perfect thing to get my mind off everything. Pizza was always good – you had to be an idiot to turn that down. And Jasper…well, his company was nice – even when we were bickering.
It was silent for a few moments. Jasper was waiting for an answer and I was deliberating. Eventually I threw caution to the wind and agreed. I didn't want to go home, and Jasper's offer sounded just about perfect.
"Sounds great," I agreed.
Jasper smiled warmly. I felt like I was about to blush.
"Awesome. Take a seat. Do you want anything to drink? I have lots of stuff…"
"Whatever you're having is good, thanks."
"Beer?"
"Yup."
Jasper was back in a few moments, handing me the can. "I hope you like Meat Lover's Supreme, because that's what I ordered."
"My favourite," I grinned.
Jasper raised an eyebrow, as if he was surprised. "Thank God."
"What?"
"I thought you might like Veggie Delight or some shit, and then I'd have to kick you out," he teased.
I laughed and took a seat on the sofa. "Yuck. Shit tastes like cardboard."
Jasper laughed heartily and took his seat on the sofa too. "Finally there's someone who agrees with me. My roommates seem to be set on the idea that it's delicious and nutritious."
I took a swig of my beer, laughing like a lunatic. "I don't think that pizza can really be nutritious."
Jasper picked up the remote with a wide grin. "Not the good stuff, anyway."
"Just play the damn movie."
Jasper chuckled and did just that. As we were being initially introduced to the monotony of life in the beginning of the movie, we settled down into the sofa, each at an end with two feet separating us. I curled one leg up under my body and pulled the other to my chest, cradling my beer can in my hand. Jasper slouched back, relaxed, one hand wrapped around his can and the other behind his head, tangled up in his messy hair. It took a few minutes for him to speak.
"I've always loved the beginning of this. I don't know why – just how they do it. It punctuates and explains his movement away from the normality of life even better."
"I love it when he goes to all of the meetings and finds some sort of peace there. It's interesting. Bob is my favourite character."
Jasper turned to me, questioningly. "Why do you like that part? He pretends to be a victim for his own selfish gain."
I shrugged. "I know. It's not that notion of it that I like. It's the idea that the emotional release allows him to cure his insomnia. He gets it out, and he's feeling better."
Jasper nodded in understanding. A few seconds later, he let out a short laugh. "He's still completely fucked in the head though."
"This is true," I agreed. "But at least Marla still sticks by him."
"She shouldn't," Jasper claimed.
"She loves him," I replied. "The good and the bad. You can't hate her for that."
"No," Jasper agreed, smiling slightly. "But it's still an idiotic move."
"Love is blind," I chimed. Jasper was silent then.
We were at least twenty minutes into the movie when there was a knock on the door. Sitting in the quiet, just sipping on beers and relaxing, was nice. It was more comfortable than I ever thought it could be. When the knock came, Jasper paused the movie and started digging in his pockets for the pizza money.
"Oh shit, where'd I put the cash?"
I looked around the room and spotted it on the counter. "Oh, there! Found it. I'll get it. We can split it, half and half."
Jasper tried to protest, but I didn't let him. I leapt off the sofa, grabbed half of the cash from the counter, dug in my pockets for the remaining scraps to fill the bill, and went to answer the door. After paying for the pizza I brought it over and plopped it down on the coffee table, before throwing myself back onto the sofa. Jasper dove into the box and pulled out a piece before I could blink. When he noticed me looking at him strangely, he raised an eyebrow.
"There are only the quick and the dead around here," he grinned.
"What ever happened to 'ladies first'?" I teased.
"I had a feeling you weren't really in to that chivalrous shit."
And here I was preparing myself for him to treat me in that annoying as fuck, misogynistic way Edward always had, as if I was some delicate fucking snowflake, not his equal. It was a breath of fresh air.
I grinned, flipped the lid on the pizza and grabbed my own slice. "You thought right."
Jasper laughed through his bite and un-paused the movie. "Most girls would call it gentlemanly and demand that treatment every day."
I shrugged. "I'm not most girls."
Jasper turned to face me then, his tone suddenly deeper – more serious. Sky blue eyes locked with mine. I suddenly felt nervous. "And why is that?"
I shrugged again and avoided his eyes, focusing on the TV. "I don't want a guy to treat me like I'm some breakable porcelain doll who needs to be worshipped. I'd rather them argue with me and treat me like an equal who is perfectly capable of handling herself." I looked at the pizza box, smiling a little. "I'd rather them fight with me over the last piece of pizza – not offer it to me out of chivalry because they think it will hurt my feelings if they don't."
My eyes flickered to Jasper. He was still looking at me. I felt like my cheeks were on fire as I looked away again and kept blabbering, trying to change the subject to something that didn't make him look at me in that way that made me feel like he was seeing something I didn't want him to.
"I mean, what's the point of being with someone if you don't challenge each other? I would hate to have a partner who does everything for me and lives to serve or please or protect me from every little thing that could hurt my feelings. It would drive me insane. Like, if I was a guy, I would hate to have a girlfriend who insists on cooking me dinner and catering to my every whim every single night. I'd want her to challenge me and tell me to shove my dinner up my ass sometimes. I mean, come on, wouldn't you? What's the point of being in a relationship where nothing is ever challenging and everything is just so…perfect?"
As soon as I had spoken, I knew I shouldn't have. Jasper wasn't laughing or smiling. He wasn't taking it with a light-heart. Instead, he was still looking at me in that way which freaked me out. I wanted to smack his shoulder and tell him to stop looking at me like that. It was too…unnerving.
I looked away, trying to focus on anything but him. I tried to concentrate on the movie, but I lost my sense of direction with the plot. I ended up just staring at the characters on the screen, trying to focus on little things like what colour eyes they had or what hair colour they had, but it still didn't quite stick. Jasper's silence unnerved me. I didn't dare to look at him.
It felt like hours had passed, but in reality it was all of a few seconds. When he spoke, I was shaken.
"Yeah, no, I agree with you. Completely," he said, grabbing another slice of pizza.
Surprised, I couldn't help but look at him, blushing like an idiot because I had just embarrassed the hell out of myself. The hesitation in his voice, however, shook me.
"You don't sound so sure of yourself."
Jasper shook his head and bit into his pizza. "Surprised, is all."
"Surprised about what?"
Jasper was hesitant about answering. He shook his head, refusing. Only after I prodded and poked him did he spit it out.
"Your opinion is the complete opposite of what someone would expect it to be, but the same as what I hoped it would be."
Okay. "Explain a little more, please?"
Jasper looked worried then. "Just forget it."
Huh. No. "Tell me."
Jasper looked very hesitant. I nodded, trying to force it out of him. He was defiant, clamping his mouth shut. I couldn't help but laugh at his defiance. Until it hit me.
If you looked at my past, you would expect me to want a relationship where I was treated like a special fucking snowflake by some chivalrous prick. It was exactly what my relationship with Edward had been. Jasper had hoped it would be different because he hated Edward, and knowing that he was fucking someone who still wanted an Edward would probably piss him off. The whole realisation hit me like a battering ram.
"Don't worry. I get it," I said then, laughing slightly and taking another piece of pizza, needing to defuse the tension.
Jasper looked slightly startled, but soon settled back down into the movie. Soon the pizza was eaten, our beers were drunk, and the movie was winding down with the final scene. Once it was over, I felt too comfortable to move. Jasper looked sideways at me, and for a brief moment I thought I should get out of there, before he came up with a suggestion.
"How about another movie? I think Blood Diamond is playing on TV in about twenty minutes. It's a good movie."
"It's not just good. It's an amazing movie," I pointed out. "But…uh…are you sure you want me here?"
I was apprehensive about intruding, and still felt undeserving after my episode with the girls. I still felt like a second-class citizen. But Jasper looked surprised at the question, and it warmed my heart. He didn't make me feel inferior. He made me feel…worth it. He made me feel like I was his equal; not worse, not better. Just equal.
"If I didn't want you here, I wouldn't have offered you a way to stay longer."
I couldn't help but smile. "Good."
Jasper grinned and stood up from the sofa. "Well, we have twenty minutes before it starts. Do what you must. Once the movie's on, no interruptions."
"Yes, sir," I joked.
Jasper smiled and headed towards the hallway. "I'm going to the bathroom. Be back soon."
"Take your time."
Jasper headed down the hallway and disappeared through a door at the end. For a few moments I sat on the couch, looking around the room with the warm brown walls and comfortable furniture, reeling in the homely feeling of it. I could feel my legs going numb from being folded under me, so I pulled myself up and stretched them out, letting the blood flow to my toes. I walked around the room a little bit, trying to kill some time. That was when I spotted a guitar perched up against the wall, sitting there invitingly, made of a deep brown wood. Tentatively, I walked over and picked it up. I was not a musically gifted person, but I did appreciate the beauty in it. My father had been the musically-gifted one. It was one of the few things we had been able to share together.
I brought the guitar over to the sofa, sat down, and positioned it on my knee. I only knew one song that I couldn't help but pluck away at. For a moment there, I wasn't twenty-three year old Bella sitting around in Jasper Whitlock's apartment. Instead, I was six years old again and perched on the sofa next to my father – the man with the kind eyes and the big heart.
"Hey Jude, don't make it bad. Take a sad song, and make it better. Remember, to let her into your heart. Then you can start to make it better…"
My playing was simple. My voice was terrible. But I didn't care. To me, it wasn't about what it sounded like. It was just about playing, and remembering.
Before I knew it I was finishing the song and drawing a deep breath, my nerves abnormally calm and my thoughts sombre. I was almost shaken into fright when a floorboard creaked near the door to the hallway.
Shocked, I looked up in a rush. Jasper was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame, observing me with those eyes again. Those eyes. Those eyes. That look. It would all be the death of me.
I struggled to calm my heart, standing up quickly. "I…uh…I'm sorry. I just found it over there and got caught up and…"
I couldn't finish my sentence. I had no other excuse. As I floundered for something to say Jasper watched me inquisitively. When I went to put the guitar away, he finally spoke.
"No, no, don't worry, it's fine. It was good. You were good. I didn't know you could play."
I laughed at the thought. The mere simple chords of that song had been a struggle. "Oh no, I can't. That's the only song I know."
Jasper craned his head slightly, still watching me in that unnerving way. I wanted to shake that feeling off my skin. "Is there something special about that song?"
"Well – uh – yes…no. Uh…kind of. It doesn't matter," I stuttered nervously. I could barely put into words what I was trying to say. I wanted to dismiss the topic as quickly as possible. I didn't need to discuss with Jasper the details of my life with my father.
"Everything matters. You shouldn't dismiss something that is special to you like that," he said then.
I was taken aback. Slightly shocked and disorientated, I looked up to him, still clutching the guitar in my hands. Something inside me seemed to shift as I looked at him. There was something behind his words that made them burn.
"I suppose you're right," I agreed.
Jasper was the first to look away, averting his eyes to the floor. He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking like a nervous wreck, as he replied. "So, are you going to tell me about the song?"
Something in his tone had a deeper meaning than just the simple, obvious question at hand. There was some sort of knowing, or expectation, or pleasure in it. I couldn't quite pick what.
"Uh…no…it's nothing," I attempted to dismiss, shrugging. I didn't want to talk about it.
Jasper looked at me. Something in his eyes shook me. "It's not nothing," he claimed.
I had to look away. I didn't want to talk about it anymore. So, I tried to explain and dismiss it as quickly as possible.
"My father used to sing it to me when he tucked me in at night when I was little, instead of telling me a bedtime story," I shrugged nonchalantly.
Jasper nodded, watching me carefully. My voice had been quiet, but his silence unnerved me. He just kept nodding, as if trying hard to process the information – as if he understood something in it all.
"It's a beautiful song," he agreed.
I only nodded.
Jasper stayed quiet as he walked towards to sofa to sit down. "Your father must have been a – uh – Beatles fan."
I didn't want to talk about my father anymore. Instead I picked up the guitar, sat down, and offered it to Jasper.
"Is this yours?"
Jasper looked at the guitar in my arms. There was a flicker of something is his eyes as he looked at it, as if he was connected to it or something. He moved with it, being pulled closer to it as it lay in front of him, almost like magnets.
"Uh, yeah, it is," he nodded then.
"You should play something," I said, handing it to him. "It's only fair, seeing as though you just heard me butcher a classic with my tone-deaf singing and childlike chord-plucking." I tried to finish the offer off with a laugh, needing to lift the tension.
Jasper smiled lightly, taking the offer. "What should I play?"
"Anything you want to."
Jasper smiled, and it felt like an electric current went streaming through the air. He took a deep breath, grounding himself, and brought his hands up to the strings. Holding the guitar, he looked completely at home, as if it was an extension of his self. It was as though, without it, he wasn't complete. He bent over the body and plucked a few simple strings. I soon noticed that his eyes were closed, as if there was nothing else in the world – only Jasper, his guitar, and that moment.
I didn't recognise the chords in the beginning, only because I hadn't heard it played acoustically for so long, and even when I had, it had been when I listened hard against a wall of plaster, the sound only ever emanating from inside my father's bedroom in the dead of the night. But as soon as he sang the first line, I could feel my chest caving in on itself. His voice was soft and smooth, with just the right twang to make it his own. The chords were slow and building, stealing all of the attention and power in the room. You couldn't help but listen.
"When I look into your eyes, I can see a love restrained. But darlin' when I hold you, don't you know I feel the same…"
Jasper was lost in the song. His hands moved over the strings as though they were his second skin. His voice was effortless and his passion was unwavering. And as he sang the lyrics, you could see something else in there. He wasn't just singing for the sake of a good cover. He was singing with life and meaning and feeling; as though the words meant as much to him as my song had to me.
When he was finished, I could barely speak. Jasper caught sight of my amazement and shook himself back into reality. It almost looked painful as he set the guitar aside and lost contact with it.
"November Rain, by Guns 'n Roses," he said.
"I know," I nodded, watching his eyes. There was something in them that was so familiar to me – some sort of feeling that I had seen in another. In my father. "Why did you choose that one?"
Jasper shrugged, but he couldn't hide the feelings from me. Not them. Not then. "Someone I cared about a lot taught it to me."
"Who?"
I already had an idea, but I knew that he would never tell me if I was right.
Jasper fell silent, looking at me for a moment, considering his words before he said them.
"My father."
The chill that went up my spine frightened me. I pushed it away and tried to distract myself.
"So, your father was musical?"
Jasper shrugged nonchalantly, as if it didn't really matter. He started to pick up the guitar then, laying it flat on his lap, as if subconsciously. It was as though he needed to be attached to it – he couldn't help it.
"My first guitar was from him – a hand-me-down with a missing string," he answered.
"Did he teach you how to play?"
Jasper's tone was bland, as if he was reciting a speech, not answering the questions with any sort of care or emotion. "Yes. He wanted to hear my voice."
There was something behind those illogical words that made perfect sense to him. I thought I understood.
"Why didn't you just talk to him?"
Jasper strummed a sharp chord, stirring the air. "I couldn't. Words are fleeting."
"And music isn't?"
Jasper looked offended. I only wanted more of an explanation.
His eyes looked up at me then, powerful, as his fingers ran subtly over soft strings. "How many times have you lied?"
I understood.
"A lot."
The look in his eyes confirmed that I understood. The chord that he played was sombre. "Music never lies."
We fell quiet again. Jasper plucked at chords, light and bright, making the music float softly through the air. He was comfortable in the silence; a man of few words. He always had been. He always had had that air of mystery about him. It was hard to know what he was thinking. In a lot of ways, he was like my father. I liked it, too. I had always felt more at home in the quiet.
When Jasper broke the silence, it was almost jarring.
"It's my turn to ask a question," he said.
My voice cracked as I spoke. "W-what?"
"We've talked about my father, but whenever someone brings up yours, you shrink away. Why?"
I felt a tearing sensation in my chest. I didn't want to answer. It took me a long time just to gather my voice.
"My father's dead."
I didn't want to talk about this with him. Not him. Not Jasper. I couldn't. It would hurt too much.
"So is mine," Jasper replied, "but that doesn't stop me from talking about him."
He didn't understand. I didn't want him to push me anymore. He couldn't push me anymore. I wouldn't let him talk about my father. I couldn't bear to face it. I almost felt like I was going to cry at the mere thought of it. I didn't want to have to feel it. I wasn't going to let him make me.
"I can't. Not now. Not with…"
I couldn't say it, but Jasper knew what I meant.
"Not with me?"
I refused to answer. I refused to do anything. All I could do was force away the feelings that were trying to attack me.
"Why not, Bella?" he pressed.
I shook my head and kept my expression strong. I wouldn't let him push me. I wouldn't let him force a crack in my wall. So, instead, I did the only thing I could think of to push away those feelings. I had to stop it. I had to cheapen it. We were getting too close. It wasn't right.
So, I leant forward, took Jasper's face in my hands, and kissed him hard.
:::
Jasper:
When I first heard the music playing, I thought I was imagining it. I thought I had finally cracked, like the pressure of having Bella in my house and Forks looming ahead and Charlie's death on the horizon and Carlisle's previous visit distracting me had finally sent me over the edge. To my overwhelmed mind, it only made sense that I was hearing that song, like some sort of annoying as fuck ghost of the past back to haunt me. It only made sense, until I heard a female's voice singing the lyrics.
I hadn't been surprised when Bella turned up at my door. Knowing what she saw us as, it didn't seem out of the ordinary. What surprised me was when she turned down sex and agreed to spend time with me and watch a movie instead. When she went on her rant about relationships, there was some sort of spark or resentment in her eyes, as if she was battling some sort of internal demon. What she said pleased me, because it made me think that she didn't actually want Edward. It was reassuring. But this...this playing – seeing her playing the song that had meant so much in my adolescence – surprised me most of all. But then again, it shouldn't have. Not really. Not when it was her father's song. I wasn't the only one who he had been close to. I couldn't expect to be the only one he taught it to. And although he had told me back then that he and Bella were not as close as they used to be, he also said that there was once a time when they were close – a time when she sat on his knee and idolised him, and he idolised her even more. A time before Edward.
But when I tried to talk to her about it, she wouldn't have a bar of it. She didn't want to talk about her father. There was a strong sense of refusal in her spirit. So, when she asked me to play, I tried to tell her what was happening through the music.
My father had never taught me November Rain. The way Bella was looking at me once I was finished made me think that she knew that very well. It also made me think that she knew who actually had taught it to me – her father. It was the first song I ever heard him play. It was the song that broke down the wall between us and made me really listen to what he had to say. It was the song that showed me that we actually had something in common – the music. It was the song that he played to himself in the quiet. I thought that Bella knew that. It seemed like she realised that as she listened to me.
She started to ask me about my father, and I tried to answer her. I tried to make her understand what the music meant to me, and what her father did for me when he gave it back to me after my own father died. It seemed like she needed that. It seemed like she needed to know that someone else loved him, and that he wouldn't just be forgotten. I tried to tell her that as best I could. And I think she got it.
But she still wouldn't talk about him herself. Not with me there. Not with the step-son of the guy who destroyed her father's life sitting in the room.
Before I knew it, she was latching herself on to me and kissing me deeply.
Her lips were soft and her mouth tasted like peppermint. Her hair brushed across my cheeks as she leant in to me, smelling like strawberries and coffee, and her hands tangled themselves into my hair. She was pulling me closer, roughly, almost desperately. I tried to distance her from me and talk to her, but she wouldn't have a bar of it.
"Bella, what are you –"
Bella's eyes met mine, torn and steaming, and she shook her head desperately. I swore that she was almost fighting back the tears as she did so. I had to get her to talk to me.
I tried to stop her again. "Bella, wait, stop, we have to –"
She shook her head again, closed her eyes, and slammed her lips to mine. I tried to fight. I did. But with every move she made my resolve faltered. I couldn't resist her. The feeling of her weight on my lap as she wriggled around, creating a crazy amount of friction between us, was driving me insane. I wanted to explore all of the tastes in her mouth. I wanted to feel her skin against mine. I wanted her, and Bella knew that very well. Before I properly realised what was happening, the idea of talking flew out of my mind and my hands were on her waist, gripping her tight as we kissed.
After that, everything seemed to blur together, like our instincts kicked in hard and all reason went flying out the window. For a moment, it hurt that we were doing this – resorting to sex when the moment got tough; cheapening the moment, even. But I also remembered what we were, and what Bella made sure we stayed as by setting down the rules. This was us. This was what we were meant for. Sex. Nothing else. Talking was overrated and unnecessary. We both knew that. When I let that cruel reminder take over, it was all much easier.
It wasn't long before I felt Bella's hands go down towards my belt buckle. Her fingers were clumsily slipping over it, fumbling with the clasp. Nerves were taking over her, and she had to break our kiss in order to concentrate on it. Even doing that, she couldn't quite manage it. I hated the loss of contact, so I soon grabbed her hands to stop them. Gently, I pulled her chin up, and kissed her again, trying to settle her – trying to slow her down.
She seemed to feel more comfortable in the kiss, ebbing into the slight movements like the ocean, but with every passing moment the anticipation was building. Her hands roamed over my chest curiously, her tongue searching desperately in my mouth as I reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head in one shift motion. The smell of heat and coffee and strawberries hit me; almost overwhelmed me. I couldn't help but smile as Bella blushed, bit her lip, and grabbed the hem of my shirt, too.
It only took her a broken moment to whip it over my head. Once she had, her lips slammed back to mine, eager and hungry and sweet like honey. I tried to catch her eye and see what she was thinking. I tried to see if there was any reservation there – anything that would tell me something about what she was thinking. But, without fail, I couldn't catch them. She wouldn't let me. When I tried to speak once more, she smothered my attempts with her lips and shook her head.
Shirtless, I could feel her hot skin pressed up against mine; her perfect porcelain against my scarred shell. It made me feel exposed. Having her fingers trail along the bumps and indents of my scars frightened me, but she seemed to barely even notice their presence. Every touch sent me over the edge and made my heart leap out of my chest.
I went to her neck, trailing light kisses along it. Bella pulled me closer, her hands fisting in my hair, grinding her little body against mine. Our jeans were nothing but stark annoyances, restricting the movement and friction we could create.
Her skin tasted like warm lemon and honey and girl. I could hear a dull rumbling in her chest as I moved to her breast, massaging gently and laying kisses across those beautiful mounds of flesh still encased in her bra. Bella's body arched into me in response, and that grind on my lap made me almost cry out, feeling restricted and caged and needing to feel her.
Bella's hot hands moved to my chest as I kissed and massaged her, tugging and pulling at my skin, pressing us closer together, instinctual and hot and almost animal-like. She wouldn't stop wiggling on top of me, begging for more, whispering my name into my ear. I felt like I was caught under her spell. I would do anything that she wanted of me. I felt like I would never be able to remove her smell from my skin. I didn't want to, either, because as she wriggled about on my lap, her knees on either side of my hips, she pulled my face up to hers, locked her eyes with mine – steamy and lustful and full of power – and begged for more.
"I need it, Jasper."
Those four words were so simple, but the passion behind them was anything but. For a moment, I considered a deeper meaning behind them. Did she need me for sex, or was there something else there that we were tapping in to? I didn't know, and I didn't want to think about it, because as I looked into her eyes – deep brown, like aging wood and steaming hot chocolate – I just wanted to savour the moment, not spoil it by over-thinking.
For a fleeting moment, we shared a look, but before I could say anything she was kissing me again, one hand tangled in my hair and the other reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra. Before I knew it, she had slipped it off and thrown it to the side. Within a second, I felt her breasts pressed hard against my chest as she went to kiss me again, desperately pulling us closer, almost as if she was trying to merge us into one person. I returned the urgency, pulling her hips closer to mine, rubbing against me, making me noticeably hard.
My hands roamed over her torso, wrapping around her waist and running up and down her back. The air around us was humid and sticky, and the heat between our bodies was worlds away from the freezing night air outside us. I could barely get enough of her; her taste, her lips, her body, her fire. I could have stayed like that for hours, not going any further, and enjoyed it perfectly. Her skin was so soft and her desire was so forceful. But when her hot hands went to my chest and started pushing me back into the sofa, I knew that she wanted to move on.
I was taken a little by surprise, and raised an eyebrow as she pushed herself back up from my chest to perch over my hips, a cheeky gleam in her eye.
"What are you…?"
I couldn't finish my sentence, because as soon as I spoke Bella looked up at me, her face flushed, her eyes sparkling, and her hair falling around her face and over her bare breasts like a wild mane. I was breathless. I could have watched her like that for hours. I wished that I could have frozen time just so I could take it in a little longer. But soon, I was taken by surprise again when Bella's hands went to my belt buckle, making quick work of the clasps.
In order for me to get my pants off, Bella stood up from the sofa. I hated losing contact with her, and so I shuffled them off quickly. A small smile appeared on Bella's lips as she watched me, and slowly she started to peel off her own jeans. Beneath them she was only wearing a pair of tight blue boy shorts. I never knew a pair of underwear could turn me on so much. Wrapping her arms around the front of her chest, as if she was shy to reveal her body to me – as if she had never done it before – she grinned like a child and hid her pink cheeks behind her hair.
"Do you have a condom?" she whispered, almost shyly.
Oh fuck. Running a hand through my hair, I almost felt like hitting myself. Did I? I didn't fucking know. I dove for the pockets of my jeans, hoping that my wallet was in there. It was. Then I hoped that my backup was still in there. Luckily, it was too, and I pulled it out with a grin. Bella smiled, too, and sidled closer towards me.
I didn't have a fucking clue what was going on as she nudged my knees apart with her own, coming to stand between my legs, her hips in my direct line of sight. She glanced down to my lap and the condom in my hand, raising an eyebrow.
"Are you going to put it on?"
The cheeky gleam in her eye told me what was happening. She was going to tease me.
In reply, I glanced poignantly at her hands wrapped tightly around her breasts and the little pair of boy shorts sitting precariously low on her hips. I didn't need to say a thing. She understood.
Smiling, her eyes smoky and wide, Bella reached down to the waistband, her long hair falling just enough to cover her chest, and started slipping the little blue shorts down. She nodded to me to tell me to give in as well, but I could barely take my eyes off her. She was absolutely perfect. Just the way that she moved left me speechless. I could barely function in her presence.
But when Bella glanced up at me and raised an eyebrow, I tore open the condom packet and made quick work of it. When I was done she was standing there between my legs, completely stark naked and blushing a bright red. I lost my breath, and said the words before I could catch them.
"You're beautiful."
Bella smiled, but only just. A reservation was hiding itself behind her expression that she wouldn't let me see. Soon she started moving, positioning her knees on either side of my hips and hovering over me; sitting so that we were barely an inch from each other; so close that I could feel her heat radiating into me.
Bella placed her hands on my shoulders, steadying herself. My hands went to her hips in response, trying to help her. Bella smiled at my response, and leant forward to lay a small, sweet kiss on my lips; so small that it made me worry that she was having second thoughts.
"Are you sure?" I asked, feeling like there was something else I should have been saying.
Bella looked into my eyes. The deep, deep brown of her eyes shook me to the core. I couldn't speak as she watched me carefully, finding something that I couldn't identify; seeing something that startled us both. She didn't answer my question, but she did reply to my previous statement, leaning down to my ear as she lowered herself down onto me, her breath hot and steaming in the chilly air, gasping as we met and I filled her and she coated me.
"And you're crazy."
Her arms curled around my neck as she lowered herself down slowly, taking all of me in. I groaned out the pleasure of feeling her around me, throwing my head back as she began slow, steady movements up and down. I could barely restrain myself from bucking my hips faster.
Her slow pace was tantalising as she rode me, her hot, panting breath sending chills up my spine. My hands gripped the milky white of her thighs as she continued her rhythm, trying to hold it steady, making my pleasure bubble inside me.
Bella closed her eyes and let her hair fall around her cheeks, brushing against my chest as she continued her rhythm. Small gasps escaped her lips with every downward thrust, and I craved to kiss her plump lips and gasp with her.
Removing one hand from her thigh, I pulled her to me and kissed her slowly, our tongues entwining. Bella's pace faltered, and she yelped into the kiss, blush creeping over her cheeks, biting my bottom lip and tugging it ever-so-softly. I froze too, gasping in the broken movement, feeling her hot breath flood across my cheeks, trying to hold the pleasure for as long as possible, smiling at her yelp. Bella pressed her forehead to mine as she continued her movements, slow and steady and driving me absolutely crazy. Then, all of a sudden, her eyes opened. As soon as they did, I was lost.
I couldn't explain what I saw in her eyes then, but I couldn't look away. Neither of us could. Her deep, dark brown eyes were swimming in passion, the fire in her soul igniting as we moved together in perfect synchronisation. Sparks jumped between us, and I couldn't tear myself away from her beauty. I never wanted to lose that moment, because in it, I saw something else entirely. In it, something else was linking us together.
Our eyes stayed locked as she continued riding me, her pace always slow and steady and her breathing heavy and deep. As she came closer to climax her eyes became droopier; more lustful and dazed. But still, she wouldn't look away, and neither would I, and as our hands roamed over each other's bodies and we stayed linked together so tightly, something else entirely was forming.
When she finally spoke, her voice was barely audible, but it shook my soul and caved my heart.
"Jasper, I'm coming."
Bella dragged in a long, hard breath, her whole body shaking. I could barely restrain myself any longer.
"I need you," she said, making my heart flip as her eyes glazed over and her face shone. No cosmetics could imitate the glow of a girl's face before she climaxed. In that moment, Bella became a goddess.
Without hesitation, I pulled her lips to mine and enveloped her in a hot kiss, tasting her and being with her as we both hit our peaks, gasping with each other as we rode out the final part of our orgasms, almost as one.
:::
When we finished, Bella didn't rush off like she normally would. She didn't freak out and push me away and say that it was all wrong. Instead, we both went to clean ourselves off, and once we were done we settled down on the sofa to watch the rest of the movie. Neither of us said anything. It was almost like we were too scared to. Or we didn't need to. I didn't know. All I knew was that, after giving Bella one of my old t-shirts, she slipped on the shirt and her underwear as I slipped on my jeans, and she came to sit next to me on the sofa, her legs curled up underneath her as she leant into my chest. And strangely, it was what I liked. It was better than the sex. It was better than the orgasm. Just sitting there with Bella in my arms, listening to the sound of her breathing and feeling her heart beat against my chest, was exactly what I wanted. Curled up together, we were warm against the cold weather.
Sometime during the movie, Bella fell asleep. I didn't realise for a while, but once I did, I saw something else. Asleep was when she was at her most beautiful.
It must have been midnight by the time I noticed. Her lips were slightly parted and her eyelids were fluttering as she dreamed. I wondered what she was seeing, and wished that I could see it too. Her breathing was light and steady, and her hair lay in curls around her head. Lightly, I brushed her hair out of her face, trying not to wake her. When she smiled and spoke, I thought I had, and it frightened me the most.
"Jasper," she whispered, barely making a sound through her parted lips. I thought I was hearing things, but a few moments later, her voice came again. "I need you."
I wondered who she was talking to. I wondered what she was dreaming about. I wondered if she was saying it to me, or if she was talking about something else entirely.
"Bella, are you awake?"
The little smile didn't leave her expression. There was no reaction to my question. She soon fell back into a steady breathing pattern. I wondered for a moment if I had been hearing things, until I remembered what Charlie had said all of those years ago.
It had been a Sunday night when I got a text from him, which was more than out of the ordinary. As soon as I got it, I had thought something was wrong.
"Jasper, how about a lesson tonight? Come around after six if you're up for it." – Charlie.
I had been confused to begin with. Sunday was normally Bella-night. Family-night. It didn't make any sense. It also worried me. I suppose that was part of the reason why I went.
"Sure. Sounds good." I sent in reply.
At six thirty I arrived at Charlie's house on my bike, carrying my guitar on my back like an idiot. I had been a little shit of a kid, doused in leather and worn jeans, riding a motorbike and sporting a plaster over my eyebrow in an attempt to cover up my newly acquired piercing from three days before – my newest attempt to tell Carlisle to shove his cookie-cutter mould of the perfect Jasper up his ass. I remembered when Carlisle had asked me about it. I had told him it was a cut. He demanded to look at it and stitch me up. When I lied and told him it was from a broken bottle in a bar fight, he yelled at me for an hour and told me that I deserved for it to become infected, and that he wouldn't look at it. Maybe it would teach me a lesson.
Huh. Yeah. Typical.
Asshole.
I knocked twice before standing back with an I-don't-give-a-fuck slouch. As soon as Charlie opened the door he was grinning and calling me out on my shit.
"What's with the newest accessory?" he asked, nodding to the bandage. "What did you do – go and get a metal rod shoved through your eyebrow?"
I shrugged nonchalantly. It was still hard for me to wrap my head around the idea that Charlie was a cop that I could trust. "Something like that."
Charlie stepped aside with a grin. "Well, come in, then. How'd Carlisle take it?"
I walked through the door and straight in to the living room. "I'm not at Family Roast Night, if that tells you anything."
Charlie merely nodded. The brief look on his face startled me – it was like I had just punched him in the gut.
"Get out your guitar, then," he said, changing the subject. "Let's get on to the lesson."
Lessons at Charlie's house could barely be classed as lessons. They were more of jam sessions, and an opportunity for Charlie to talk to me and try to set me on the straight and narrow. And, although I acted like a little shit sometimes, they were the one bright spark in my life at Forks. And, naturally, they were a secret. From everyone.
I obliged, but carried on with the previous subject. "Speaking of Dinner Nights, don't you and Bella normally have a Family Dinner Night every Sunday?"
Charlie looked pained at the question. I couldn't figure out why, until he gave me the answer. The look in his eyes was excruciating.
"Bella is with Edward tonight. She's – uh – at your house. For dinner. She was just invited this afternoon."
Fucking brilliant. Showed how much those people gave a shit about Charlie and me. We were both out of the loop of our respective families.
"That's really shitty," I growled, adding another thing to the list of reasons why I didn't like Bella. Or Edward. Back in Forks, I had thought of them as mean, arrogant, prissy, perfect dick heads. Knowing that Bella would blow off her father to go to dinner with my fucking family was a big black mark in my book.
But then, Charlie said something that made me question everything I had ever thought of her.
"You know, she's not normally like this – Bella. I mean…she never used to be. You would be surprised of what she used to be like. She just changed when she started dating Edward. It's to be expected, I suppose."
"Edward's an asshole. Anybody who can't see that is clueless," I spat.
Charlie chuckled at my cruelty to my brother and Bella. I never understood how he could be so accommodating of my bad moods.
The next thing Charlie said was the strangest of all, almost like he wasn't actually talking to me. It seemed that he was talking more to himself – trying to reassure himself of something.
"You wouldn't guess it now, but Bella used to be a spirited young girl. She took after her mother a lot; passionate, hard to fathom, adventurous." The mention of Renee caused a look of pain to pass his expression. "She…she…uh…she had a fire in her soul that's hard to find, you know? Kind of like you. She had dreams and aspirations and eyes that saw beauty in everything. She…she has never been one of very many words, like you, but she was never afraid to speak her mind. She…she was special, Bella. She still is."
I didn't know what to say, so I kept silent. Charlie seemed like he was almost folding in on himself, watching memories playing in his mind like a broken record.
"Did you know that she talks in her sleep? She does. She will tell you things that she would never say out loud, in her sleep. When she was a little girl sometimes I used to sit in the rocking chair in her room just to hear her talk. She…she used to say that she loved me. 'I love you, Daddy', she would say. She has never said it out loud, but back then it didn't matter, because I knew that she did anyway. When she was here, I couldn't sleep without hearing it. It…it was special. She was my little girl."
He looked towards the wall, almost whimsically. I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything.
"Of course, now she doesn't say that for me. Now she only loves Edward. She has…she has grown up."
Until I saw the pain in Charlie's eyes in that moment, I never knew that a father could care so much for a child.
Charlie laughed then, although it wasn't a real laugh. It wasn't hearty. It was a feeble attempt to lift the tension. "Edward definitely did change her. I know that you wouldn't believe this, but you would have suited the old Bella better. I would have preferred that, actually."
Of course, he said this before my family completely fucked him over and ruined his life. I doubted whether it would still apply now.
I shook my head. "Edward's perfect. No one could wish for a better boyfriend for their daughter," I spat, sarcasm dripping from everything I said. "Or, at least that's what everyone says."
Charlie laughed, but there was pain in his eyes. "You're worth ten of Edward, Jasper. You just have to see it."
"Bullshit," I claimed. I didn't believe it at all. I was a druggy with an attitude problem and shit grades. Edward was an asshole, but he at least had things going for him.
Charlie shook his head. "Edward doesn't have your soul or your passion. And if he doesn't have it now, he will never have it. You have all of the potential. You just need to smooth out some of the kinks."
"Soul," I spat cynically. "That's crap. What do I have that he doesn't?"
"The attitude problem and the metal rod shoved through your eyebrow are perfect examples," Charlie laughed. "Guts. Bravery. Morals. A strong sense of wrong and right, even if you do get a bit lost sometimes. Your music."
"Yeah, right. Edward is a musician, too. Piano, remember? And most people would say that he has all of those qualities, and I have shit."
"Most people don't have a clue what they're talking about. And Edward is not a musician. He can play Piano, yes, but he doesn't have your creativity or passion that lets him make his own music or pave his own way. He's a carbon copy, drilled with notes and songs and the technicalities of music. You're the one with the real talent."
I scoffed, but something in me changed. Hearing someone have faith in me then was life-changing. But still, I knew that it wasn't true. I hadn't been able to make my own music in years. I had lost it. Charlie didn't need me to say that to understand that I was thinking about it.
Charlie looked at me then, his eyes powerful and deep. There was so much wisdom in them that even five years later, I was shaken by the memory.
"You will find it again," he promised me. "I know it. It's there. You just need the right thing to set it free."
That night, while I was in the bathroom, I heard him play "November Rain" for the last time that I knew him.
Right thing to set it free. Right thing to set it free. Those words danced around my head continuously as I sat there, holding Bella in my arms. Right thing.
Bella breathed deeply, shuffling around a little bit in my lap. The t-shirt she was wearing slipped up, revealing the soft skin of her waist, and a shiver ran through her body. She curled up tighter, trying to keep in the warmth, and muttered something incoherent. I didn't know what to do.
I didn't want to wake her. That was the last thing I wanted to do. It was well past midnight by that time, and trying to get her home would be hard. But I also knew that she wouldn't want to stay the night. Not really. She would fight it in the morning.
But I didn't care. Bella was freezing, and lying there in peace, her hair a mess and her body relaxed, she was the most beautiful I had ever seen her.
Standing up slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements, I got up from the sofa and bent down to pick her up. Her body was warm, pressed against my chest as I carried her to my room. She could have the bed. I would sleep on the sofa. I almost didn't want to set her down when I arrived at it, but I had to. She didn't stir as I laid her on the mattress and pulled the covers up to keep her warm. A small smile came again as I did so, and she whispered something that I couldn't catch, before falling back into her dreams. Part of me wanted to stay there and listen to her – hear what she had to say. But another part of me didn't want to, and wouldn't allow it. That was the part that was in control when I grabbed a blanket from the cupboard in the hall and went back to the sofa to let sleep take me.
:::
Bella:
I woke up to the sound of bucketing rain on the metal of the fire escape outside the window. I looked to the bedside table, where the clock read 9:00am. Curling further down in the blankets, I let out a sigh of relief. I had slept fantastically.
But when I pulled the covers up to my chin, something felt different. They weren't mine. These covers smelt like cinnamon and freshly cut grass and man. Suddenly, I was very awake, and looking around for a moment, I was at a complete loss as to where I was. Everything looked unfamiliar. But, a moment later, I remembered. I remembered skin on skin as a television buzzed in the background. I remembered looking into blue, blue eyes and feeling something inside me shift. I remembered being unable to forget the emotions and focus on the physical. I remembered failing to cheapen the moment. I remembered him. I remembered rough hands and chapped lips and blue eyes.
That was when I realised what I had done. I had broken the rules – so many of the rules. And I hadn't been able to shake him and our conversation from my skin.
Dammit.
Quickly, I threw off the covers and leapt out of the bed. I didn't remember how I got there, but I let that slide. I looked around the room, trying to locate my clothes, but I couldn't spot them. I was in a panic. I needed to get out of there. It seemed like Jasper knew this, because soon the door to the bathroom was opened and he was standing there, a towel wrapped around his hips and his hair dripping wet. My heart was pounding like a jackhammer, panicking, but he merely smiled at me; cool, calm and collected.
"Morning," he greeted. "I heard you up. I was just taking a shower. Sorry."
I didn't know what to say. I couldn't go off at him. He wasn't doing anything, and he hadn't done anything. I was the one who had fallen asleep, clearly. He hadn't slept with me, clearly. He hadn't instigated our meeting that night, clearly. He hadn't done anything wrong. It was me. I was the idiot.
"Uh…morning," I replied, not knowing what else to say.
"Do you want some breakfast?" he asked then. There was some sort of knowing in his voice. He knew what I was thinking, and he wasn't going to fight it. It was almost like he accepted the inevitable.
"Uh, no," I excused. "I better get going. Thanks."
Jasper nodded. He wasn't going to put up a fight. It threw me.
"The shower's free if you want it. I think your clothes are still in the, uh, living room."
Jasper smiled nervously. I felt like my cheeks were on fire. To his surprise, I whipped off the t-shirt that he had loaned me and handed it back to him. Quickly, I covered my breast with my arms, mad with embarrassment but needing to remove all traces of him from my skin.
"Thanks for the shirt," I said quickly. Jasper didn't have time to react before I ran out the other door and straight into the living room.
I started searching for my clothes, and quickly located my bra and jeans. My shirt, however, was a different story, and just before I managed to pick it up I heard the front door being thrown open and foreign voices ringing through the house.
"Jasper! We're home! Get your lazy ass out of bed!"
I didn't know what to do. I wanted to dive for the door to Jasper's bedroom, but it was shut and my feet felt like they were frozen in place. I barely had time to grab my t-shirt and shield my breasts with it before two people carrying a backpack each walked into the room.
The girl was tiny, and had long white-blond hair and bright green eyes. Her lips were set in dissatisfaction, and her demeanour was strong and confrontational. The man was tall – as tall as Jasper – with shaggy brown hair and kind blue eyes. His demeanour didn't frighten me nearly as much.
I felt like an absolute idiot, standing there, nearly naked, looking like a deer caught in headlights, my heart pounding painfully in my chest. It seemed like no one spoke for hours. I hated it, and I desperately wished that the floor would just open up and swallow me whole. I should have realised that he would have roommates. I should have realised that they would be home. I should have realised not to parade around half naked. I should have not been there.
The tiny girl raised an eyebrow at me. She didn't seem judgemental; more interested – amused, even, and slightly pissed off. I felt like my cheeks were on fire as she spoke.
"Who are you?"
"Uh…I'm, uh…B–"
I went to answer, but was interrupted by the door to Jasper's room being thrown open. Jasper came out, dressed only in a pair of jeans, drying his hair with a towel. He didn't notice us at first, but as soon as the towel was down shock and realisation came over him.
"Peter. Charlotte." He looked at them, wide-eyed. Peter looked like he was on the edge of laughter. Charlotte raised a critical eyebrow, motioning to me. When Jasper followed her line of sight his eyes widened in surprise. He took in my near-naked self, his jaw clenching. "Bel–" he went to say my name, but stopped himself. There was a look in his eyes that made me very suspicious, especially after what he said next. "Izzy."
Izzy? What the fuck?
I tried to catch his eye and ask him what the fuck he was on about, but he wouldn't look at me. My focus turned to the floor, wishing I could just disappear, as Charlotte looked from Jasper, to me, and back to Jasper, expectantly.
"So…" she prodded, glancing poignantly at me and turning to Jasper. "What is this, hmm?"
Jasper looked at her, and they shared a look that had so many undertones in it I couldn't even pick one to run with. It seemed like the two were having their own silent conversation.
"Charlotte," Peter tried to caution her, but she ignored him, keeping eye contact with Jasper.
Jasper glanced at me quickly – almost apologetically. I didn't have a clue what was going on. Suddenly, he put on a bit of attitude.
"I think it's pretty obvious, Charlotte," he growled. "And it's really none of your damn business."
They shared another look that made me nervous. Charlotte looked like she was about to rip his head off. Jasper had the set jaw and hard shell of a two year old.
"None of my business?" she spat. "Really, Jasper? I hate to remind you, but this is just as much my apartment as it is yours."
"Yeah, and I don't shove my nose into your sex life," he pointed out.
Charlotte looked like she was about to snap. Peter suddenly wasn't so amused.
"What the hell are you doing, Jasper?" Charlotte asked then, her voice holding something deeper in it. "What the hell is going on in your head?"
"Charlotte," Peter cautioned, but she ignored him and kept staring at Jasper, trying to break down his boundaries.
I turned to Jasper, interested about what answer he would give. Not to my surprise, he didn't say a thing. Instead, he turned to me, holding up his towel in front of me.
"Here, put your shirt on," he whispered. My cheeks felt like fire. I tried to catch his eye to see what he was thinking, but he wouldn't look anywhere but at the floor.
"Jasper," I whispered, so only he could hear. But still, he ignored me. Obliging, I did what he said and threw on the shirt in my hand, ignoring the bra.
Jasper let down the towel and stepped in front of me. Charlotte was still watching expectantly. Peter kept his mouth shut tight.
"So?" Charlotte demanded.
Jasper looked exasperated and furious. "Honestly, what do you want me to say?"
Charlotte looked like she was about to blow a fuse. "Oh, I don't know, Jasper. Maybe I would like you to explain to me what the hell is going on in your head? First there was the drinking, and now you're bringing random girls home. You really think this is a good way to do it?"
Peter stayed quiet, as if he wanted to hear the answer too. Jasper looked hurt and pissed off and annoyed.
"Don't, Charlotte," he warned. "Not now."
"Then when, Jasper? Because you have yet to listen to me. And hell, I'm not going to let you fuck up, or God forbid, catch something from one of these girls." Charlotte glanced at me then. "Although, not you. I'm sure you're very nice," she said in passing. I wasn't worried. The thing that struck me the most was one of these girls. Plural. Meaning more than one. More than me.
"Charlotte, steady," Peter warned her.
Jasper glanced at me, worried, his shoulders tensing. I tried to smile to her in reassurance. Soon, her focus was back on Jasper.
"You can't just fill whatever fucking void you feel with booze and girls. It won't work. You know that, because you've tried it before, and it fucked you up. So stop it."
I was shaken with surprise. I had never heard of this side of Jasper before, and it worried be more than ever. One of these girls. One of these girls.
"Shut up, Charlotte," Jasper growled. "You have no idea what you're talking about."
I wanted to get out of there, fast. I didn't want to hear any more about his escapades. I just wanted to run away. No wonder he hadn't wanted us to be exclusive. He had other girls on the side, too. I should have known. And it shouldn't have hurt as much as it did. I knew that. But it still did.
I felt like I was about to cry. He was just using me. I was just one of these girls. And I had thought that I was his equal. Turns out, I was just one of many. He didn't even want his roommates to know my real name.
Charlotte raised an eyebrow at Jasper. He seemed to know where she was going before she went there. "What about the girl from a couple weeks ago, huh? You know; the one you wrote about. She got your fucking music going, and you're just throwing that away for anyone willing to give you a quick fuck? What is going on in your head?"
I didn't need any more of this. I couldn't deal with it. Quickly, I shuffled on my jeans as Jasper and Charlotte continued having their silent conversations. I felt like someone had kicked me in the gut. I felt like I was choking on a ball of cotton. I felt like I was about to cry. I knew that I hadn't wanted anything from this thing with Jasper, and I didn't, but knowing that I wasn't the only one and that he hadn't told me that, hurt. If I was sleeping with anyone else, I would have at least had the decency to tell him and let him decide how he felt about it. I wouldn't have lied or kept secrets.
"You have no idea what you're talking about!" Jasper growled at Charlotte as I grabbed my bra from the floor. "Stay out of it."
I darted behind Jasper and started heading towards the door. I felt like a tramp, clutching my bra with one hand and my shoes in another, hanging my head of messy hair in shame. I didn't need to feel like that. I didn't need anyone who was going to make me feel that. I didn't need to feel inferior. Enough people made me feel that way already. I didn't need it from Jasper.
"Wait, where are you going?"
Jasper's voice hit me. I felt like someone stabbed a knife into my back. Turning around and trying to hold back the tears that were bubbling in my throat, I refused to look at him.
"Home." I turned towards Peter and Charlotte then, trying to put on a kind face. "Nice to meet you. I'm sorry about…this."
Peter smiled apologetically. Charlotte nodded at me curtly. I kind of admired her for it. She may not have been the kindest person to me, but she had her reasons. She was looking out for Jasper as best she could. She was looking out for the people she cared for. She would even be rude to others to do it. I could admire that in her, at least. Jasper was lucky to have someone who cared about him that much.
Charlotte let me past, and I grabbed my coat from behind the door and slipped it on, shoving my bra into the pocket, feeling like complete and utter shit. As I opened the door, Jasper's voice hit me again like a bullet.
"No, wait, don't go. Please!"
I didn't look at him as I replied, shaking my head and refusing to let him in any more.
"Just don't, Jasper."
Proudly Beta'd by LithiumReaper :D
I'd love to see your thoughts on this one. Please do leave them in a review. Oh, and extra question:
Did anyone else see the new Harry Potter movie? What did you think? Oh jeez. I'm still fangirl-ing over it, and I watched it almost a week ago.