Disclaimer: The Proverbial thing – Twilight's not mine. The uni doesn't exist, but hey, don'tcha think writing Stories about Volcanoes would be fun?

Enjoy! X

1

I wrapped my hair tightly around my hand – one of my stupid concentration-tics, and looked down at my textbook. I had long ago decided that this module was dull, and I was dull for taking it, and the course. If I carried on with it, was likely to be as dull as it looked right now, but there was no point in complaining about it now. I had made a stupid decision, but I was determined to stick with it, boring or not.

"I'm sorry, is this seat-" I shifted my gaze and he froze, "T-taken?" I looked up at the quiet voice, at the sudden noise in the silence of the library, and bit back a smile and a choked gasp at the same time. "You alright?" His forehead creased in the middle and I frowned too. He was gorgeous, and I wanted to lick him. Oh dear.

"Yeah... yeah, I'm fine." I waved my hand in an attempt to nonchalantly allow him the seat he wanted, but the squeak of my voice made it oh-so-difficult to feign indifference. I cleared my throat again, hoping I could sound vaguely sensible the second time around. "Course... I don't mind at all." He smiled at me and nodded a thank you, pulling out the seat beside me and dropping the book he had been carrying onto the desk with a most startling bang.

My body jerked upright in my seat as I let out a high pitched squeak and brought my hands up in defence. The three other occupants of the library's computer lab shot me glares or worried glances. I felt my face colour and ducked my head, looking anywhere but at him.

"Hey..." After a couple of minutes of blissful silence where I drew my hands from my face and returned to my work, he had to break it, to ruin it. He had to ruin it.

"Hmm?" I was quiet, but the hmm-ing would be enough for him to think it was alright to as the same question as everyone else –are you alright? What's wrong? –I would tell him nothing, and that would be it.

Except obviously this one was different.

"I... er... didn't mean to frighten you." He stopped and looked at the book, I could see it in my peripheral vision, "I didn't realise it - the book, I mean - was so... heavy." He gave a half-hearted-lopsided grin, and I finally took a look at his face. Not the profile of before, but the full frontal.

The gasp that I let out of my mouth was ridiculous, but I made it into a coughing fit without looking like a complete and utter bitch. He had a row of stitches across the apples of his cheek, still raw and healing, and a very poorly concealed bruise on the curve of his neck. He winced as he caught me staring, though his eyes were light as his gaze travelled back to the computer screen before him, and he smiled again.

"Awful, isn't it?" He muttered, "Like... just ugly." The smirk returned and I took a breath again, though describing him as ugly was nothing but untrue. He was stunning, with boy-next-door looks, but I remained silent on that front.

"I think it is," I heard suddenly, realising my brain was taking the initiative without any conscious thought. My words were nonsensical from where I was sitting. "But, of course, I wouldn't know without the full story." Another pause, "What happened?" Curiosity got the better of me within two minutes. That. Didn't. Happen. I did not get curious.

I scowled for a second, half regretting my decision until he looked down at my feet, staring thickly and intently at my shoes. There was a blush heating his face and he kept his eyes focussing on the bright green of my laces. Only then did I realise his eyes were watering. He was trying not to cry...

I had made him... Aw. Damn.

"Hey..." I reached my hand out and gripped his wrist, noting the handprint there as his lips tightened into a thin line as he kept almost defiantly staring at my trainers. "Er... You're alright, you know? You're safe... with me." Because that sounded like something he'd need to hear at that moment. He bit his bottom lip and looked back up at me, his bright blue eyes wide but diluted with tears, and his fingers finally loosening their grip on the mouse he had been abusing so harshly. It fell to the table and the pair of us jerked back into the room as the impact clattered around the library, and whoever was hunched behind the computer across from us muttered an irritated "shutthehellup!"

I looked away and then back up at him. He was still blushing and I could feel the red heat on my face too.

"Thank you..." He said softly, then, almost as if he was embarrassed about telling a complete stranger the truth, "My best friend beat the hell out of me." I bit my tongue to stop the bark of laughter that wanted to slip past my lips, because I was sure he was lying, but then he raised his hand, running it through his hair and inadvertently showing me the bandage across his knuckles where I could only assume there was a split across the length of his hand. My gaze flickered back to his face. He had caught me looking. "He pummelled me, I hit him, hence the hand," He waved it in front of my face and glanced at the screen quickly, checking the time. I looked too – a quarter past six. Five or ten minutes and I'd need something to eat – I had been working all day without a break and had been thinking about taking one before he had interrupted me. "So, he jumped on me and hit me again... and I..." He stopped and stared into the distance almost wistfully.

I really, really wanted to hug him as hurt clouded his eyes.

"You...?" I admit, I pushed him a little bit.

"I quit fighting it and let him choke me until I blacked out. Woke up in the hospital with this shit all over me." He gave a vague waved and I pulled an understanding face.

"Why did you let him?" Okay, curiosity gene, kick out.I really don't want to know.

Yes, you do.

I couldn't answer my inner voice with another contradiction, but it was there, the strange feeling that tugged me toward the feeling... the need to help him, to gain his trust and, for once in my stupid, wasted life, make a friend.

"I... had had enough of his bullshit." He murmured. "He kept going on, and so I told him to shut up... and..." he stopped again and the hurt disappeared, just sadness discolouring the blue.

"Why did you let him do it?" I said again, "Let him say those things..."

"A story," He said with a wry smile, and then a sore grimace as the stitches pulled taut at his skin, "for another, probably more appropriate day." And, with that dismissal, he closed the programme he had been working on, logged off the computer and rose.

He was going to leave.

"Hey!!" I yelped as he turned to walk away, "You can't just... just up and leave me here-" I stopped, desperate, all of a sudden, trying to keep him here, to keep him close so I could do something... so I could look after him?

I could barely look after myself, but he was near intoxicating me just by... just by being there.

"Can't I?" Suddenly, he was leaning over me, all smiles and teasing, "Well then, I suppose you had best come and get something to eat with me." Suddenly, dread coursed through me.

"I don't even know your name."

He smirked again, then smiled a true smile that finally reached his eyes, as he held out a hand that was going black and blue but had no other imperfections. He lifted his book and his bag onto the other shoulder and bit his thumbnail, almost nervously.

"Are you coming, or not?" He pressed, blinking rapidly as though his eyes were tearing up again, "Or are we just going to... leave it?"

I hesitated for all of a second. His student pass hung in his pocket, knotted around the belt loop of his jeans, and his personality seemed open, kind... even if his image screamed that he had fought, and was, by proxy, rather dangerous. Violent even.

Why didn't I care?

"Well?" He spoke as though he was about to sprint off into the sunset and leave me sitting in the dark, alone again.

"Yes, yes, I'm coming!" I closed everything down and lifted my own bag onto my shoulder. His hand nudged mine as we stood beside each other and began to walk away, and as we took a couple of steps, I let our hands link together. He stopped walking and looked down at me, stunned and immediately I dropped my grip, blinking and looking away toward the doors. It shouldn't have hurt me, but it did.

He nudged me again, a moment later, and I looked up into his eyes as a minute expression crossed his face. He held his hand out again, and probably quite stupidly, I took it.

"I'm Jasper, by the way," he murmured as the automatic doors slid shut behind us. My fingers were locked in his once more as he stared at me, waited for me to make a sound. I looked away from his darkening, intense gaze.

"Nice to meet you Jasper," I said softly, still using my library-voice, even though outside, the restrictions didn't apply. "I'm Bella. Bella Swan."

He paused in his long strides, looking down at me with wide eyes, and offered me his bandaged hand to shake. Just when I thought it couldn't get any stranger. I took his hand in mine as he spoke.

"Nice to properly meet you, Bella. Where do you want to go?"

There was a small silence, filled with my hesitation as I really considered what the hell I was going to do. He was somebody I didn't recognise, didn't know, and probably should be afraid of. His hair was messy, but artfully so, though that told me nothing about him. It was simply one of the many attractions he held. I registered that I could need to catch the bus home unless I went with him, and quickly, as though he had heard me speak my thoughts aloud, he was pulling me toward his car with purpose, and I was following behind him feeling a little confused and extremely hypnotised by the sheer weirdness of the situation and his presence. Damn his addictive presence.

"Bella? Bella, are you alright?" He was stood by the open passenger door, his arms resting on the top rim and his eyes a blue shade of worried.

"Yeah," I bit my bottom lip and nodded, then, "How does the burger shop in town sound?"

"Jessie's?" He said, quirking an eyebrow and frowning lightly as the stitches on his cheek pulled with the movement, "I didn't peg you for a fast-foodie kind of girl." He tried to laugh, but I could see the movement hurt his cheek.

"I usually cook." I said with a small smile, "But this is no date – I don't exactly expect Moriarty's." The biggest and most expensive restaurant on campus – and probably the best Sherlock-Holmes-Victorian-Era themed place. Ever. No more needed to be said – if your boyfriend was taking you to Moriarty's, the night was going to rock.

"Ooh," He smiled again, "Sounds good." Another pause as he watched me climb in, "And who said that this wasn't a date?" I shrugged.

"Who said it was?" I countered.

"Touché. A quasi-date, perhaps? Or a rescue by a night who's been in a violent battle?" I couldn't help but laugh at that.

"A rescue from the library?" I quirked an eyebrow as I pulled my seatbelt across my chest and looked up at him. He returned the expression with a wide, yet painful-looking grin.

"Those books can be murder, you know." He deadpanned, and I grinned again.

"Oh, yes, I'm sure." But it was the playful banter that set the nagging voice at the back of my throat at ease as he pulled out of the parking space and kept his eyes on the road.

He focussed completely on the drive throughout the whole damn journey, so the night swallowed the awkward silence and made it into something almost tense. I couldn't see his expression, but it was almost as though he didn't want me sitting there. I could tell by the glances he kept shooting me, looks of worry and some kind of irritation, as though the last person to sit there had... had died, and he was afraid of it happening again.

"Jasper? Are you alright with me being... in here?" I waved my hand around and he shifted his own hand to change gear, then grabbed mine from the space it was hanging in.

"Yeah," He squeezed my fingers lightly as though we were really on a date, "Just... got up on the wrong side of bed, I guess... it's catching up on me." He shrugged and raked his hand through his hair again, sighing.

"You have an amazing pair of eyes," I said, suddenly and finally sick of the silence. "Very blue." He chuckled and I felt myself go red again. Stupid! I sounded so stupid! "Contact lenses?"

"Actually, yeah," He nodded vehemently, as though this was the most interesting topic of conversation he had heard all night, "but they're not coloured, I mean... they're just because I'm totally blind without them... it just-"

"I know what you mean," I smiled, desperate to silence the inane rambling, "I wear them too."

We fell into a more comfortable silence after that, his eyes still darting at me every so often, as though he were terrified again. Within five minutes, we were pulling into a parking space behind Jessie's and he was frozen in place, sitting in the driver's seat with his fingers curled so tightly around the steering wheel that I could see his knuckles turning white as I waited.

"Alright Jasper?" I touched his shoulder and he stayed almost immobile, watching the wall in front of us, eyes glassy as though he was replaying something in his head, watching it before his eyes, even though there was nothing there.

I didn't like it.

"Jasper?" His silence did nothing but unnerve me, so I reached out to touch his shoulder and simply hoped to some kind of deity that he responded, "Jasper, please?" Another pause and a short tug at his silent jacket, "You're scaring me..."

He was alert less than a second later.

"Bella?" I stopped at the sound of him shortening my name. It was so much like him, but then again, so different. "Bella, tell me what I did..." His voice was shaking, "Bella, what did I do?" But I didn't know what to say. His reaction was something I simply didn't understand.

"You went really quiet... and a-and totally unresponsive, and-"

"Shit!" He screeched the words and practically launched out of the car, staring at me. His hands flew through his hair and he let out a loud yell of frustration, "Why!?" He was looking at me, but his question sounded like it was aimed at someone else.

"I... er, maybe I should just... go home?" I asked, quietly reaching for the door handle. His hand shot out for my wrist, gripping it hard and stilling me, "Or not." I sighed.

"No! Please, I should explain-"

"You shouldn't!" That sounded like you don't care, "I mean... you don't even know me!"

"I just don't technically drive!" He interjected in a yelp.

"Sorry?" OK. I needed to get out of the car. Now.

"I have a license. I just don't usually... drive." He said, shame written across his face. "The last time I properly got in a car... the last time I drove..." He looked over at me and I realised that in that moment, I could only blink, my eyes wide and unnerved as he kept staring back, "Shit happens, right?" He stopped abruptly, almost begging me to agree.

"By that you mean...?" Curiosity. Once again I felt that stupid feeling of wonder.

"By that I mean I don't fucking drive!"

He raised a hand and for a second, I cringed with a deep-seated fear that he was going to hit me, but before I could speak he had slammed his fist against the dashboard and I let out a loud shriek, scrambling to find the button for my seatbelt and the handle for the door.

My trainers splashed in the tiny puddles that lined the street that were forlorn remnants of yesterday's weather, and I was half aware of my tights soaking at the ankles as it splashed onto my skin. I turned two corners and stopped, wondering where I could go.

I sighed as my hands scrapped around for my bag, expecting it to be wrapped over my shoulder. That way I could get my phone, or my wallet, for a way to get home.

I had nothing. There was nothing. I had my hoodie, I had a five-pound note that was crumpled in my pocket, but that was it. Nothing more.

"Shit!" I sucked in a breath and turned twice in a circle, three times, looking for it, hoping like hell that I hadn't left it in his car. I knew I had though. I knew exactly where it was – in the foot well of the left-hand, front passenger seat and hiding deep inside of it, my purse, my keys, my student card...

Part of me wondered if it was a total scam. If he had decided, on a whim, to rob me of the twenty pounds and debit cards that were in my purse, and just take me for a ride. If it was a con, I had fallen into it completely, and I was an idiot for collapsing into his looks, his actions, his name... Hell! I didn't even know if his name was Jasper. I had seen the uni lanyard that was wrapped around the card, but not the card itself. It could be total rubbish. A scam.

I didn't want to believe it, but it was totally, painfully plausible.

"Shit." I threw my hand out at the nearest building and felt the warmth of someone catching it before I could hit the bricks and do myself any serious injury. I growled out loud and went to hit whoever was still holding my fist tight and refusing to let go. "Get off me!" I yelped, "Just go away!" I said, nearly shrieking when a big, clearly bandaged hand slid slowly up my arm and pulled away, leaving the heavy weight of my handbag on my shoulder.

"I will." Jasper's voice startled me, even though by now I was sure it was him. "I didn't mean for this to happen, Bella," He stopped, still standing off to my side and watching me with a confusing, sad expression. "I... I am so, so sorry."

Something in his voice told me I should listen, but I wondered why he had gone off like that nonetheless.

"I am, really." He stopped and rand his hand down my arm lightly, making me shiver and squeezing my hand tightly as he got to my fingers, "And I wish... I really wish I could explain..." Another, long, terrified pause and when he spoke again, his voice was full of hesitation. "But not like this. Not now." He stopped and let my hand go, "Would you like me to take you home?" His voice lifted, constricted a little bit and his heat moved away from mine as he stepped back and away, tilting his head and smiling. The grimace of pain was visible as the stitches pulled again.

"I've been working all day." I said softly, "I should probably eat something." I looked up at him and gave him a little smile. Yes, I would give him another chance. It was the least I could do.

"Really?!" And his enthusiasm exploded into life, his eyes lighting up and fluttering into beautiful sparks that begged to be mentioned.

"If it makes your eyes twinkle like that, then yeah, I guess I could eat." Okay, that was a little cheap... but it was sweet.

"Cool!" He held out his hand but I didn't take it, this time I waited for him to take the lead.

Ten minutes later, we were sitting in Jessie's, holding various unhealthy foods and eating them in a totally ungainly manner. Jasper refused to take his eyes off me the whole time, seriously irritating me because I hated to be watched as I ate, but eventually, I learned to ignore it – at least I pretended to, his beautiful yet penetrating eyes a force I could not shake off.

"What?" I finally muttered when I couldn't stand it any longer, "Have I grown a second head?" I felt along my collarbones in mock terror as he let out a laugh and shook his head.

"No, no... It's just... you look like you haven't eaten in about a month, the way you're eating those chips-"

"Ha bloody ha." I pulled a face, "I had to get some work done, and by some, I mean a lot, pretty desperately, and yeah..." I fiddled with the sleeve of my jumper, "So maybe I didn't have breakfast, or lunch, or whatever, but work got done, you know?"

He nodded silently, but kept his eyes on me almost shamelessly, his gaze barely faltering as he kept munching on the barbecue burger he had in front of him.

"So, what course are you on?" I said as he watched me. Always watching.

"Creative writing and physical geography." He murmured, grinning brightly.

"Curious combination. You want to write disaster novels with heavy terminological accuracy, then?" I said with a small smirk. He didn't even laugh. "You're serious?!"

"Actually, yep... Deadly serious." He stopped and grinned again, "Deadly as a volcano." At that, we both started to giggle, until he almost immediately grimaced at the stretching of the stitches, and a small gasp left his lips at the pain, "And you? What makes you fizz?" I ignored the innuendo that laced his words.

"Just plain drama. Theatre studies." He paused and looked at me.

"Were... did you do that fringe theatre thing about two, three months ago?" A pause, "The one where all the cast had to sing?"

"It was excerpts from doomed love through the ages, and yes. I did have to sing... but I lost my voice on the fourth night." And I was in the hospital for nearly a week with some complication.

"Yeah, I know. I had tickets for that one. My friend's date bailed on him... and I took her place..." he stopped and looked down and away at his words, "Not like that... I mean... he... let me have the ticket, I went with him, but not... like that." I grinned, "I wanted to see the 'awesome' actress in the main part. Apparently she was ill," He gestured across the table at me and I blushed, "I guess I get to buy her dinner instead." Immediately, I flushed bright pink.

"I'm hardly awesome." I shook my head again, and he laughed.

"Alright, how about Show Stopping? That's what the Student Union paper said... the only other drama student I know who's had such good fringe reviews is Robbie Dean – you know the one that did the musicals night? Luck Be A Lady and all that?"

"Yeah, yeah I do." I nodded. I did know him – we had worked together on the background, backstage stuff for the musicals week, he was sweet, but a little overbearing with accentuation in every small movement and a very projected voice. It was only to be expected that he was at home on stage.

"A nice guy?" A tiny scowl crossed his face as he spoke, but lightened when I shrugged, sighing a little.

"Not really my type." I smiled, trying to be as evasive as possible. "To be honest with you, drama was my cop-out. I didn't want to be studying like a doctor, but I couldn't sit still all my life, doing bugger all and hating it." My fingers were drumming lightly on the table as I sighed and looked back up at him, "The trips are good. We've seen some damn good stuff, really." He let out a little laugh and smiled.

"We get to visit a volcano?" He said, a little glee in his voice and a tiny intonation to turn it into a question. It was almost that he was hoping I could be interested. I licked my lips and smiled, looking down to see if I had anything left to finish. Nothing. Okay.

"Sounds pretty awesome," He rubbed the back of his neck and grinned widely as I spoke, "Where are you going? Iceland? Italy? The USA?"

"We don't know yet, but trust me, awesome it will be." He laughed and I watched as his head dropped lightly and his hand began drawing tiny circles on the tabletop between us. His lips looked as though he was speaking words I knew I could not hear.

"Hey, Jasper?" I asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence. He lifted his head to look at me and I took my cue to continue, "Do you think you could take... give me a lift home now?" A small pause.

"Yeah, I guess so." He murmured, his lips pursing in a little pout as he stared at me. "Is it... er, where am I taking you?"

"The Self-catered down by Thomas Greene? The little ones on the main road... you know, the three shares?" I was stunned when he nodded and replied.

"I do – I live in the three-sixes along the way. Closer to the Morris Centre, but a total trek for the shops." He laughed and smiled.

"So you were the one in the ambulance on Monday?" I blurted out without thinking, remembering the sincere concern I had felt for whoever had been forced to sit in it. I'd done it fourteen times so far – it wasn't my favourite pastime, I had to say.

He winced. We were back to the fight again, and I felt my face heat as he watched me, still with that pain in his eyes and no hint of a smile on his face. I sighed and looked down at the table, then out towards the sliding doors and the dark February night that was waiting.

"Shall we?" I sort-of blurted again, suddenly tired and ready to go home.

"Course." We rose and within a minute we were back in his car and he was switching the heating on, making me feel warmer once more. He drove in silence, refusing to look straight at me, but the repetitive glances returned as he moved in and out of the various lanes as he practically sped me home.

"Well..." I stayed sat in my seat as he pulled up at the pathway to my block and cut the engine. "Thank you."

"Not a problem." He nodded and sighed as we sat in silence for a moment, then I felt his bandaged hand touch mine where it was resting in my lap. "Er... is it... is it okay for me to ask for your number?" He stumbled over the words and for a second, I wondered why he thought he needed to ask.

His look was just traditionally gorgeous, with his big blue eyes and shaggy blonde hair, lanky frame and sweet demeanour. Even if he was a little bit weird and wouldn't talk to me... he shouldn't, and probably didn't have a problem getting girls. Dammit! I just didn't understand the stuttering.

"Er... yeah..." I shrugged, "I guess so." I held my hand out for his phone and quickly tapped my number in, handing it back and knowing my face was getting pinker as the seconds passed and he watched me.

"Thank you." His voice was low as he pocketed his phone and nodded at me with an awkward smile. "I'll call you?" Once again, he practically asked me if it was alright, and my head was reeling at the immense level of his nerves – or perhaps his courtesy.

"Sure," I nodded, then unbuckled my seatbelt and clambered out of the car, "Good night, Jasper."

"Later Bella." And with that, I turned away, stepping carefully though the pebbled puddles until I got to my door. I turned around to look at him, to wave him a goodbye as I reached the keypad, and was almost stunned to see there was nothing. I hadn't heard him pull away, I hadn't heard him turn the corner, but there was nothing to tell me he had been in the street only moments before.

My brain was thoroughly stumped. A lot. Had he actually existed? Had the whole evening actually happened or was I just insane? Pulling a TV series-worthy stunt to get away from the stuff that had happened in my life?

I sighed into a yawn and ran my hand through my hair, searching in my bag for my student pass to swipe in and get access to my rooms. I lifted it to the pad and it beeped twice, the door clicking as it unlocked. Stepping quietly into the foyer and practically sprinting up the stairs, I felt a stupid level of carefree that I hadn't experienced in nearly thirteen years.

I flung my keys into the door, threw it open, knowing it could only be nine at the latest, and let it bang against the wall, cringing only as I stumbled and hit my elbow against the doorframe of the shared kitchen.

"Shit!" I yelped and my roommate Alice appeared at her bedroom door, wide eyed and looking terrified for her life.

"Where's the zombie apocalypse?" She shouted, looking up at me with a cloudy smile.

"Junction eighteen of the M25," I returned, still not caring as she stepped towards me with an evil grin. I was suddenly terrified, "What?" I stepped back as she advanced, still smirking.

"You're smiling, for one," She laughed, then, "and blushing too... ooh-er, missus, did somebody meet a new friend?" Wiggling her eyebrows, she kept advancing until she had cornered me between the kettle and the toaster and I was warmer than them both working at full power in the middle of July.

"Very funny," I whispered, my throat constricting through sheer embarrassment, "I did, and I'll have you know I personally think he's insane."

"Seriously?" Alice ran her hand through her hair, "Bella, this low-self-esteem stuff has got to stop-"

"No... I meant...." I stopped and looked up at her, my hand stilling on my collarbone as I went to try and gesture my way out of a plastic bag.

"You meant...?"

"I just meant he was weird... Gorgeous, but strange... you know?"

"Stalk and rape you strange? Dirty young man strange?"

"Like spaced the fuck out of me while he was in the driver's seat strange." I neglected to mention we weren't going anywhere, but even so, it was beside the point. "Then he refused to tell me why, but bought me dinner."

"Name?" She said, with a half smile. I heard Damon, our other roommate and Alice's boyfriend groan from her bedroom as he realised this was going to be a long conversation. Alice laughed and pulled the chair out from the table with a scrape; sitting in it and grinning up at me as she called, "Take a cold shower and get over it," She grinned at me, "On second thought, come out here. You might want to hear this!"

He appeared in the doorway with a mess of sex hair and wearing the most uncomfortable looking pyjamas.

"Bella!" He let out a shout-laugh and rubbed his neck lightly, blushing as he caught me looking at him with a raised eyebrow, "Er... evening!" his laugh was light but constricted as he kept his eyes on the floor, though they flickered up to me as he found his voice, "get laid yet?"

"No, but she's halfway there!" Alice spoke for me as he laughed and kissed her on the temple. I rolled my eyes and let their little charade continue for a few minutes until Alice stopped Damon's wandering hands and cleared her throat to pull my gaze back from out of the window, and back into the room. I wasn't paying much attention, but the sudden silence caught me unaware.

"What's his name?" The pair of them spoke at the same time, Alice still looking at me as though I had found the Holy Grail.

"Jasper." I murmured, a dark flush broadening across my cheeks. I really needed to curb that – I was starting to feel like I was a poorly made-up china doll.

"Jasper what?" Damon looked up at the mention of his name.

"Jasper I-don't-know." I returned and he scowled at me, growling furiously before shaking his head and sitting down on the chair beside Alice, keeping his hand draped across the back of her chair. I sighed and looked at them both. "He does creative writing and physical geography and lives in the blocks of six-shares up the road." I reeled off, trying to remember as much as I could.

"Oh!" Alice snapped her fingers, "You mean Jazz Whitlock!?"

"Well, I might do. I really don't know."

"Shaggy hair, total 'do me' eyes?" I nodded because there was really no other way to explain him. "That, my friend, is Jasper Whitlock." She laughed and I immediately felt humiliated.

"Why're you laughing?" I asked, my hands flying to bury themselves deep into my hoodie pockets.

"Because," Damon said simply, "You two have missed each other basically every day by walking past each other the wrong way. He's the one whose flat I play poker in."

"Really?" Alice looked up, "I thought he roomed with Edward?"

"Indeed he does." He nodded, "Edward just doesn't play." And I wondered almost immediately why I hadn't met these people before. I guessed it was because Damon played poker the nights Alice and I worked at the theatre, getting things set up and working on lights.

"Er, sorry to interrupt, but how have I 'missed' him?" I threw in the air quotes for good measure.

"Remember about two months ago? Your Love through the Ages thing... Alice and I had tickets to the second and the fourth night, didn't we?" I nodded and he motioned for me to sit down.

"I came down with the flu," Alice looked up at Damon, "And so he offered the ticket around, and Jasper took it, didn't he?" He nodded and she grinned at me.

"So, he was going to come and see it on the fourth night," Damon took over and Alice leaned forward, her elbows on the table, "And I was going to subtly point out the gorgeous lead..." A pause where he waved his hand at me, "And you had to go and fall ill. Ruined it all, you did."

"Oh, I'm sorry, next time, I'll organise my illnesses..." I bowed my head but my chest was exploding with excitement, "How else did we miss each other?" I was stupidly excited now, and it made me giggle a lot as I shrugged my jacket off and leaned forward.

"New Years Eve, you left at ten, didn't you?" Alice started.

"Yeah, to get to the train station."

"He turned up at about quarter past with Edward and Emmett propping him up. He wasn't really too good, he was dizzy and stuff... so..." She blushed, "we kind of put him in your bed... and he slept for about two days. Damon had to practically kick him back down to his place, but he didn't want to go – he kept saying stuff about a pretty picture and colourful something-or-other – we just figured he was on something, until we realised that your room had those two big pictures of you and me, and the snow scene from your bedroom that you'd been painting... and that he had been looking at the one of you, like almost nose-to-nose."

She shuddered as though she would have found it creepy to have someone looking at pictures of you – though in my opinion, I found it worse that she had let him sleep in my bed without telling me – who knows what he could have done in there... still, the poor guy hadn't been well, and... I sighed and shut my eyes as I thought about it.

We were closer than we had realised.

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