Sorry it's kind of short, but I'm building up to something epic lol so don't worry!

~Selene

Ps. I've been asked to do an Emmett and Rosalie story, not too sure if I could master those characters, so lemme know what ya think of that idea too.


I ate until I felt like a blimp, then helped Jasper clean up the dishes despite his objections. I sat on the couch, flicking through messages on my iPhone, Carlisle had called to promise me Jackson was fine, that he would see me later on this evening.

While Jasper was in the shower, I made a few calls around Forks, then searched the internet on my phone for an outfit online. I needed new shoes, and a new gown of course, I had drawers and drawers of accessories, the only issue would be baggage. A full purse seemed a little too much for an evening, perhaps a clutch?

Thinking about these things made me long to travel, I simply love shopping in different countries. Paris for elegance, London for edge, Venice for flare...the list goes on! Forks just isn't enough – nor could I get myself a stunning pair of flashy red heels by Christian Lacroix anywhere here.

I flicked through the colours, the sizes, requesting a custom order sent immediately to my apartment. It said it should take roughly three weeks for the shoes to come in, therefore, if they were being honest, my shoes would just manage to reach my eager hands in time.

Now I began to hunt for a dress, running through Gucci, Versace and Prada before settling on Dior. Ugh, I absolutely love shopping, but I just can't do it now that I'm here, in Jasper's house, in Jasper's living room. He himself is enough of a distraction as it is.

Almost on cue to slaughter my perfect morning my phone began to chime, Rosalie's ringtone echoing through the expanse of the room. I didn't want to answer. However; if I didn't she would undoubtedly call Carlisle or Esme and promptly inform them of my abrupt spiralling off the face of the earth.

I brought the phone to my ear, murmuring a very soft, "Hello?" Rosalie's gasp gave me a sense of a security, though I realized perhaps a second too late that it was false. I winced, feeling myself melt into Jasper's couch.

"Where the hell are you Alice?" She shouted, I blinked, so she wasn't mad? Rosalie was...worried? I smiled, suddenly beginning to see what lay beneath all that egotistical gorgeousness. "I hope you know I've spent the last five hours rummaging through your apartment." Just as I was about to ask her how exactly she had gotten in, Rosalie snorted and muttered, "Bella says hi."

I gave a nervous laugh, running my palm over the sequins on my dress. God, what I would give to get the hell out of this thing! I mean, I know I look amazing wearing it, which I should because it cost me two hundred dollars, plus it really is an absolutely beautiful garment – but not to sleep in!

"At least you're alive," Rosalie snapped, now I could hear Bella's anxious questions in the background. "Bella wanted me to phone Charlie-" I held my breath at the thought "-Obviously I didn't, I'm not an idiot. Though you really have me frightened, and Emmett is so hung over Alice!"

I laughed, cut short when Jasper strode into the living room, pausing when he saw the phone in my hand. He looked at me as if he thought I'd phoned in to report that I'd been kidnapped. When I giggled his expression lightened, he crossed the room silently, and only when he had come closer did I see the silvery, clear droplets falling from his damp hair.

Jasper waved a plastic package at me before delicately resting it on my lap. I stared down at the tooth brush, unopened in it's case, and wondered if that's why he had been gone so long. I mean, I haven't taken an hour long shower in forever.

"...Mary-Alice, are you listening to me?" Rosalie barked, both Jasper and I winced. I took the phone from my ear and mouthed a thank you, he nodded and headed for his bedroom.

Jasper glanced over his shoulder, forcing me to turn away so fast I may have given myself whiplash. I resisted the nagging urge to stick my tongue out at him – an unbecoming habit I seem to be taking from Jackie – when he chuckled. "Y-y-yes, sorry, I just got distracted." I murmured, if she only knew.

Rosalie sighed, the annoyance dribbling from her words. "Where are you, are you okay?" Rosalie made a noise that, because I couldn't see her face, could have been a snort or a snicker. "Because, I certainly don't intend to go to the theatre with her without you."

I rolled my eyes, "No Rosalie, I wouldn't make you suffer in such a way. Don't worry, I spent the night at Jasper's, I just didn't want to go home after the encounter with Greg." I clapped my hand over my mouth as the realization struck me. Did those words really come from my lips?

Rosalie was silent, Bella's voice in the background becoming even more urgent. After a moment of wordlessness Rosalie cleared her throat, if concern had previously been present, her outrage had stabbed it to death.

"Alice, Jasper is my brother. You've known him for all of three days." I could tell she was speaking through her teeth, one of the things Rosalie did that frightened me slightly. "I thought you would have more class than to sleep with him already."

I leapt to defend myself, "No Rosalie – it's not what you think, he's not like that at all." My voice turned into this whisper soft dreamy murmur, and I held my eyes closed.

Rosalie scoffed and I groaned through my teeth the way Jackson did when I made him go to bed at eight. "Nothing happened alright, I'll call you later." With that I speedily ended the call, dropping my face into my lap.

Jasper laughed quietly, I peeked up at him, knowing my face must be as red as the shoes I bought not five minutes ago. "That's Rose for ya." His Southern lilt came hard and I fought to keep breathing properly

Usually, I am much more classy than this, I have much more grace and so much more poise. Why did all that seem to just slip between my fingers when it came to Jasper? He probably thinks I'm some sort of moron now, a moron with an even more moronic past.

"I have something for you." He smiled, then motioned for me to follow him. I took a deep breath and gathered my scattered composure before coming after him.

Slouched on the doorframe, I watched Jasper pass the dressers and closet doors to lift a large black bag onto the bed. He tugged at the practiced zipper, his dripping hair bouncing across his face.

"Now, I'm not sure if it will fit," He rambled quietly. "But it's the smallest one I have-" Jasper dug around in the bag for a moment, extracting a t-shirt that was evidently too small for him. I smiled "-You just don't look comfortable."

When he came to me again, all I could think of was getting out of this clingy dress. The toothbrush I'd been holding in my left hand slipped from my fingers, the package clattering on the floor. I yanked him down to my level to mould my form to his.

I didn't give him the chance to draw away and ask if this was alright, rolling myself up to the tips of my toes, tangling my fingers in his hair. Jasper sighed, then suddenly I wasn't straining to reach him any longer.

My toes curled at the abrupt absence of ground. I curved my fingers over the muscles, now flexed, in his arms. His arms tightened around my waist as I pressed my tongue to the soft, warm curve of his lip.

I wasn't aware of our stumbling until I was straddling his jeans in my dress. There was the briefest moment of coherent thought, before I was pinned beneath him on the navy sheets, when everything faded away again.

God, he made me feel so small! Cold droplets from Jasper's hair danced on my face, I arched my back to push myself into him. My hand, clutching the fabric of the shirt he wore, so it bunched at his shoulder, slipped down to his forearm. Here I was greeted by an endless array of lumpy, slippery scars.

Jasper and I parted so I turned my head to better examine the battle wounds. Jasper's hand, holding the duvet in a tight fist beside my head, seemed to be so large next to me. I followed the bend of his wrist to the scattered mess of permanent memories, embedded in his flesh.

"Why are you doing this?" I rasped, my fingers falling from his arm to rest on the thick, downy sheets. Jasper breathed slowly, blinking several times before gazing down at me.

He smiled that unusual, oddly crooked smile and closed his eyes for a minute. "I don't have to be human for you, Alice, you want me for whatever monster I am." Jasper's sweet blue eyes opened, holding my gaze with little effort.

It took me a moment to grasp his words entirely, and I grinned. "Good answer," I nodded a fraction, gasping for my breaths. "You're my kind of monster."

Jasper's kiss came gently, a shadow of what had past only seconds ago, his weight shifting above me, while his hand formed to my jaw. Even being here, in the safety that came with being near him, within his absolutely unfamiliar embrace, all I could think of was Tristan.

Tristan, the only person I'd ever been this close to. Tristan who had promised the same security. Tristan who was Jackson's Father.

Recoiling from Jasper, I forced myself as deep into the cushions as my body would go. Don't do this Alice, I told myself, don't do this to yourself. It took every bit of my strength to push my hands up and under Jasper's shirt.

His fingers found the hidden zipper to my dress and, I could have sworn my heart tried to burst out of my very body. "We have to go slow, okay." I whispered, hoping he wouldn't be able to feel me trembling.

Jasper leaned away from me, his vibrant blue eyes becoming sceptical. "I won't force you to do this Alice," I couldn't believe how firm his tone became in that instant, silk to stone.

Making myself smile, I brought a hand back, my fingers gliding over the golden shadow of stubble on his chin. "You're not," I whispered, gradually slanting my mouth over his again.

It was a matter of squeezing my eyes shut, timing my breaths with his, and giving myself up to whatever primal instincts I had.

Jasper's scars were everywhere, from his ankles to just under his chin. I hadn't a single scar on my body, and yet the way he looked at me, told me he could see them. I nearly jumped straight from my skin at the press of his callused fingers on my stomach. Jasper smiled, his hair dried, but had become even more twisted every time I put my fingers through it.

He was just so...patient? Jasper was quiet, never insistent or forceful...the exact opposite of Tristan. I sighed his name and it sounded so perfect, so meant to be it made me snatch his hands and plead for him to stop. Jasper went totally rigid, his eyes widening if only for a second, he held his breath and did not move a muscle.

"Did I-" I interrupted him before he could get another word out, placing my hand over Jasper's mouth.

I blinked again and yet again, until I was certain I could hold the tears off for at least a few minutes. "I...can't." I whispered, feeling my face burn uncontrollably. "I'm sorry." My voice shook, the sign that I was quickly losing a battle.

Jasper lay beside me wordlessly for the longest time. I wanted to get up, collect my things and run as far as my pumps would take me. The longer I stayed there, next to him, the more I realized just how big of an idiot I was being.

Rolling onto my side, I tucked my face away in the curve between his shoulder and neck. Jasper pivoted on the bed, nowhere near enough to disturb my position, just enough to encircle me with his arms. I would understand if he hated me for this, because I hated me for it.

Rosalie was right, I wouldn't be surprised if Bella really was getting more 'action' than I was. And yet, somehow, being bent flush to his side as I was, I'd never felt more wanted.

I was angry then, utterly furious. Pushing myself out of Jasper's grasp, I crawled over him, collapsing in the bend his chest made designed to fit me. Tristan and I never did this, I couldn't even keep count of all the extraordinarily expensive bras and panties I'd gone through with him, that he never even looked twice at.

Now, that they were the only thing – besides grey pair of boxer briefs – keeping Jasper and I separated they had never seemed more important to me. Which is saying something, because the intricate network of turquoise lace I was currently wearing, were $260.00 Chantal Thomass originals.

"Where were you?" I demanded, the outrage in my voice hardly reflecting just how enraged I was. Jasper's eyes widened again, before the recognition answered the questions his blue eyes carried.

He propped up against the headboard slightly, making me slide downward if only a fraction, to the unbelievably hard grooves of his stomach.

Jasper's thumb swept along my cheek, I was angry I hadn't even noticed the tears there. His eyes narrowed pensively, his quiet lilt the indication of his suffering. "If I could have been there, Alice, I would have been." He moved again, fingers combing through my hair, his lips at my forehead. "Jackson would have been mine, you would have been mine."

I smiled, though, trying to picture my Jackson, my emerald eyed, mop-topped little boy with Jasper's blue eyes and blond hair, was not as difficult as I thought.

Moving myself up bending my legs, on either side of his hips. I brushed my hair back, only now considering what a big mess my ebony layers would be in. "Why couldn't it have been that way?" I asked, pressing my face into his warm neck, marred with puckering scars.

Though I could not see his expression, the way Jasper moved, the way his palms roamed my skin, made me wonder if he really could be feeling everything I was.

He never answered me, merely kissed my hair and smiled ruefully into the dark tresses.