Jasper watched with fascination as she took his hand. Her felt her finger trace gently over one crescent shaped scar on his palm. Her smile was brilliant and the hope radiating off of her was so intense that it stuck a small grin on his face as well. Her peculiar eyes were so expressive that he didn't even need his strange ability to understand that she was thrilled to see him. But why? Then she spoke his name, and introduced herself. He felt intensely like he was missing something. How did she know his name? Did he tell her in his haze, just as he took her hand almost subconsciously? He replayed the last minute in his mind. No, he had been too staggered by her beauty and her hope to speak until she had initially spoken to him. Even now, her hope was so sure. It never faltered. He was sure, he would have felt it if she had. What reason did she have to be so sure? How could she know that he would react the way she did? If anything, the fact that she knew his name already should signify to him danger. She had recognized him. She knew his name. What else did she know about him? This could be a trap, an ambush. She could have been a mate of one of the hundreds of vampires he had killed in his time. She could be keeping him distracted while other vampires slip into their places surrounding him, preparing for attack. Paranoid? Maybe just a little. But where he came from, it was better paranoid than dead. Back down south, a situation like this was just the formula for attack. He was in an unfamiliar area with a stranger who knew him. This should have concerned him.

But it didn't.

What was going on? She said they were going to get along? She said they were going to stay together? She knew this for a fact?

Maybe it was her hope. Maybe it was the honesty in her eyes and her brilliant smile. Maybe it was that fact that she willingly turned her back to him. All of his instincts gained from the first sixty or seventy years of his screamed that this was just an act to lower his guard. When he was still with Maria, and fighting in the vampire wars, if he had turned his back to an opponent, that would have been his end. Even to lure his opponent into a false sense of security, he would never have turned his back. Surely, if the woman were specialized in the kind of training that most vampires from the south were, she would have known that. When she spoke to him, her musical voice held no trace of a southern accent. But that meant little. He didn't know what it was that compelled him to follow her, but he did. It was a strange feeling to have such blind trust in someone.

As she led him towards the back of the diner, she lifted his arm, and it went willingly. It was almost as if he knew what she intended to do. He lifted his arm over her head, and as she began to twirl he helped by rotating his wrist. It seemed natural that she should twirl like the ballerina whose gait she owned. It made a small smile spread on his face, watching her dance across the floor. She dropped his hand when they got to a booth far away from the rest of the inhabitants of the place. Not that the distance mattered. He and this vampire could talk at a speed so fast and a tone so hushed that it would be a mere buzz in the air. The humans would be none the wiser. But he sat down across from her without a word. He leaned back in his seat and watched her carefully, his onyx orbs always aware of her and his environment. He watched as her gaze went unfocused for a minute, like she was looking at something he could not see. Maybe she was. He waited patiently. Then her eyes refocused on him. She said she was tired of killing too, and that there was a family, the Cullens, that lived off the blood of animals. She use the word too which meant not only that she was tired of it, but that she knew that he was as well. He supposed it shouldn't have surprised him that she knew he was depressed over his life of killing humans, after she had already known his name and where he would be at exactly this time on exactly this day. But it did. He furrowed his brow. How could she know as much as she did?

She was finished speaking, and looking at him still, her amber eyes matter-of-fact in her knowledge of him and this family that she mentioned. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at the table. He chose his words carefully, confused and a little stunned over the situation still. Then he flicked his obsidian eyes back to the beautiful girl sitting in front of him. "Um. Alice?" Her named rolled easily off of his tongue, as if it was a name he had been used to saying to for years. His tone held a notable trace of confusion. "Could you perhaps enlighten me as to how you know who I am? And how you know what you know about me? And maybe some more about yourself, as I seem to be at some sort of a disadvantage." It was in his nature to be polite with women. His voice was rough sounding even to him, or as rough as a vampire's voice could be anyway. He remembered vaguely that it had been about two years since he had actually held a conversation with anyone. Anything else in the way of speaking had been merely mumbled one-word answers. He had deliberately avoided all kinds of contact, be it with humans or vampires.

He thought a moment about the other part she mentioned. "And who are the Cullens?" A family that lived off the blood of animals? He had never heard of such a thing. Briefly, he wondered why he had never thought of it. He remembered spending many nights in forests, away from civilization. Often times he would cross paths with a herd of deer or even a stray bear or coyote. He had never once thought about substituting their blood for a human's, mostly because, when one compared the two scents, the animals smelled damn near repulsive. He couldn't imagine that they would taste any better. How could one commit to living off of the blood of animals and still surround themselves with humans? It was beyond him.