A/N: Thanks for the reviews/favorites/alerts! Here's another chapter.
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, or Wuthering Heights
Three weeks later, we drove to Forks. The weather was, as expected, dismal. I could feel the pit in my stomach growing as we neared the small house with the police cruiser parked in front of it. Nothing had changed. When we rang the doorbell, the door flew open almost immediately, as if Charlie had been waiting behind it. He hadn't lost weight, like I thought he would have, considering the fact that I wasn't around to cook anymore. He threw his arms around me in a big bear hug, a weird thing for Charlie, shouting, "Bells! It's so great to have you home, hon! Your room's all ready. Just like you left it."
"Thanks, Dad. Sorry it's been so long. We just…you know, we've been busy." He didn't even think twice about my crappy excuse, though, because he and Jacob were already busy chatting away about cars and sports. I dragged our suitcase upstairs and flung opened the door to my old room. Everything was the same; ancient computer, familiar sheets. It was exactly how I'd found it almost six years ago. I checked under the bed. Sure enough, my torn up copy of Wuthering Heights was still there, forgotten after Charlie gave me a new, hardcover copy to take with me to college. I opened it up and let myself be pulled into the world of Catherine and Heathcliff. I was just getting to the good part, when the actual story starts, when I felt two hands wrap around my arms, "What are you doing on the floor?" I jumped ten feet, dropping the book, "Jake! Don't scare me like that!" I picked up my book, intending to continue reading, but he grabbed it out of my hands, "This one again, Bella? You can probably recite the whole thing without looking! But who would want to anyway?" He flipped to a random page and read dramatically, "Kiss me again, but don't let me see your eyes! I forgive what you have done to me. I love my murderer…but yours! How can I?" he broke down into mock sobs.
"Well I apologize for appreciating great literature. And I forgive you for that awful performance." He pouted and tossed me back the book (which I naturally missed), "Jak-" I started, but I couldn't finish my complaint because he dove into me, pushing us both onto the bed, "Jake!" I mumbled, "Get off!"
"Sorry, Bella. Can't really understand what you're saying." I knew he wasn't using his whole body weight, but it was still uncomfortable. I managed to squeeze through just enough to get my face out, "Jacob Black. You are such a kid sometimes."
"I don't age, remember?" I could hear him grinning. He propped himself up on one arm and kissed me for a very long time, finally stopping to say, "forgive me?" I laughed softly, "Maybe…" and wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him again. Kissing Jacob was amazing. It was like we had our own secret language. It wasn't so much about passion; I felt safe and happy knowing that he would be there forever.
Eventually, I reluctantly let go of him, "Charlie's downstairs." Jacob got up, walked over to the door, and slowly shut it. He grinned, "There's a game on. He's not coming up here anytime soon." I opened my mouth to protest but then shut it and pulled him back down, "fine, but just kissing." I shut my eyes and he kissed me again. This time, though, it was different. His lips and body felt colder than his usual feverish temperature. In fact, they were almost freezing. He gripped me more gently than usual, and I kept getting the feeling that he was going to pull away from me at any second. My heart started pounding quickly as I realized why this was so familiar, and wrong. I opened my eyes and pushed his chest with all my strength, catching him by surprise and making him fall off the tiny bed. He jumped up,
"Bella! Bella, what's wrong?" I was hyperventilating at that point. I still wasn't sure what had just happened to me. He held me and calmed me down. It seemed like he had to do that way too often lately. Once I could speak again, I said, "Jake, I'm so sorry. I don't…it's just…I…" I didn't actually know why I had acted so weirdly. It was the first time anything like that had happened. I tilted my head up and looked at Jacob, my Jacob; deep brown eyes, copper skin, shoulder-length dark hair (it was our compromise). I ran my fingers up and down his face. This was the person that I would love forever. We were meant to be together. His was the only face I would ever need. I repeated this in my head over and over. I could not—would not—forget it.
A/N: Yeah, I know, it was short and rather uneventful, but this is really more of an emotional story than an eventful one. I do promise some action though!
