The Man With Few Words

"When I kiss you, I can taste your soul." –Carrie Latet


Chapter Eight

When Jacob Black woke up, he woke up to a splitting headache and a mouth filled with cotton. How delightful.

He had been laying spread-eagle on the living room floor, basically taking up the entirety of the space, but his neck ached because he didn't have a pillow. His arm cramped from being tucked under his head and his eyes are dry and they hurt whenever he blinked. His throat was on fire.

All in all, Jacob Black felt like hell.

But January Jansen—pretty, pretty January Jansen, is standing behind the kitchen counter looking like she hadn't gotten completely drunk out of her mind last night, but instead calm and placid. Which, kind of surprised the shit out of Jacob, to say the least.

She's changed into fresh clothes, for one. A thin pink sweater that showed off way too much of her midriff to be considered appropriate and a denim miniskirt. Her scarred leg is neatly covered with a black stocking pulled up to her thigh, while her other leg, bare and endless, gracefully helped her maneuver her way around. She looked as slender as a blade of grass. Her pitch-black hair, laced with pink ribbons, is pulled high into a hasty bun.

She's smoking a cigarette and drinking herbal tea and reading a Cosmopolitan magazine.

He groans, feeling extremely brutish in her delicate presence. She doesn't take her charcoal eyes off the page she's reading but her lips curve into a warm smile. He grimaces in return and clutches his throbbing head in his hands. The room spun as he stood and it took him a while to regain his balance. It felt like somebody had cut him open and rearranged all of his organs. He felt off.

And so, January Jansen's first words to him posed the appropriate question, "Do you need to go throw up?"

And he does. He charges into the bathroom, clawing at the walls in the hallways as he stumbles his way, flips up the toilet lid and empties out his rolling stomach. His hair dangled in front of his face but he makes no move to move it. His chest was on fire and his throat raw.

But it all felt damn good.

He empties out the sorrow. The depression. The self-inflicting lies and inevitable truth. He lets it all come out like a bad taco. He felt as it he was being burned alive. Like somebody poisoned him with acid and misery and heartbreak. He used to like it; the pain. He used to think that it was the only thing he had—a reminder of what he had endured. He wore his hopelessness proudly like a military badge.

Jacob Black might not realize it now, but this was in fact the most catastrophic event of his life. Because he had realized that it was gone. What, you may ask, what is gone? Jacob can only tell you...everything. Everything was gone. His relationship with Bella. His fight for her love. Their time together as best pals. It was done and finished and all so, so refreshing. He didn't have to run or argue anymore because: what is the point? It's all over now. She had chosen him and that was that. His badge doesn't seem like a sign of honor anymore, merely a symbol of what he used to be.

While he was having his little mental breakdown, January Jansen trudges silently into the bathroom and drops a towel next to the sink. She twists on the water in the bathtub and suggests, "Wash your hair. Take a shower. You'll feel better." Then she walks out again, her lingering scent of gardenias and cigarette smoke remaining in the air.

So, Jacob Black steps into the shower as commanded. He's a little too numb to be rebelling at any rate. He was numb because...because everything suddenly seems so fucking vivid. Like he'd been dreaming...or wearing sunglasses this whole time and he's only just woke up.

Everything looks all real and shit.

He lets the warm water run their course. Lets it soak his hair and wash away the dirt. He bends his neck because he's somehow afraid that if he straightened, he's gonna bang his head on the faucet. Not that it was going to hurt him or anything but he didn't want to break Janie's faucet.

His headache is clearing up and the pang in his side has disappeared. He blinks away the last effects of his hangover as he squirted some 'Spring Apricot' shampoo into his hand and sniffed cautiously. It smelled wonderful. And he's struck with the sudden thought if Janie's hair would smell like this. He wonders if he'll ever get close enough to find out.

And so Jacob Black takes a shower. He brushes his teeth with a toothbrush Janie set out for him. He washes his hair. But not just because January told him to but mostly because he felt like it. And he slips on his dirty old jeans and finds another plaid shirt tucked inside the towel. He crinkles his nose and contemplates for a moment going shirtless but then he tosses the red plaid shirt that made him look like a hillbilly over his head, pulled on the pants that were streaked with mud and marches out.

January is watching baseball. She sits on the floor and yanks a stocking up her bare leg, then she props her arms out behind her and wiggles her toes, looking very contented to be there. She raises a brow when she sees him and beams, her brilliant smile almost taking him off-guard, "Well well," She drawls in her southern twang, "Don't you look sharp?" Her wicked dimple quirks girlishly.

Jacob grunts in response. He plows his hand through his wet hair. He doesn't say anything to her. Not even a 'good morning'. But he doesn't need to. Because Janie understands him even when he can't find the words to say what he feels. He wanders into the kitchen and pulls open the fridge door. He twists open a bottle of water and down the whole thing, trying to revive some of his tastebuds. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw the little ballerina get up and start cursing again, trying to relocate her wallet.

Because he can't stop his curiosity, and because he was in a talkative mood today, he scrunches his brows tight together and asks, "Where are you going?"

"To eat." January was looking at him with such an obvious surprise that it annoyed him. It made him feel stupid and inadequate. "Aren't you hungry?" He doesn't get the chance to answer. "Well, I'm hungry. What do you want? Pancakes? Hamburgers? Both?" She was slinging questions at him so fast, he can't even blink anymore. She sits her cute little butt down in the foyer and starts tugging on her rain-boots. "There's this sweet diner down the block. You wanna roll out?"

"No!" Jacob exclaims with more emotion than he meant to convey. The Hot Mug was a frequent hangout place for the Pack and the last thing he wants is for them to find him walking in there with January after going missing for a night. They'll interrogate him, surely. Maybe even Janie. But maybe not, after all, she was an elf. What harm would anyone want to do to an elf? "No, no, no." He denies. She's staring at him with a quizzical look. He explains, fidgeting uncomfortably, "I don't like that place."

January trails a hand into her long hair, "Oh. Okay then." She bites her bottom lip and shifts her silvery eyes all around. "I don't know where else to go." She tells him.

He doesn't really either. But he thinks it would be weird if he admitted that to her. She would probably think that he was strange, a kid that's been living in the same town for 19 years and still have no idea where the food was good. He considered for a moment taking her to the local fast food joint but he didn't want to risk anyone spotting them together. La Push was a small town, after all. And after a long while, he relented and grumbled, "We can go to the food court. There's a mall in Port Angeles. About an hour's drive."

"The mall?" She repeats dubiously. She seems put off that it's so far away.

She said it as if she couldn't believe he was suggesting this. "Yes. That is where normal people go, right?" She smiles and nods and he tempts her with one last trick, "They have a Ben & Jerry's there." Because January loved ice cream.

And that makes her agree wholeheartedly.

She waits patiently as he slipped into his worn sneakers—and he praises himself for actually wearing shoes last night. Her purple patterned rain-boots squeaking as she rocked forward-then-back. And when she reaches over him to retrieve her car keys from a plastic tray, her bare torso was suddenly thrust in his face and Jacob thought his eyes were going to fall out. He jerks his head back, stunned, and nearly fell over backwards. His heart was beating way too hard and there's a blistering heat crawling up his neck.

January Jansen doesn't notice.

As they stroll outside into the crisp morning air, Jacob knew that there was going to be a storm coming. He could smell it. The sun is peeking out amidst the clouds and it's warm all around him, but he can pick up that hint of humidity, the dampness. The calm before the storm. He wonders if he'll have time to phase tonight. He loved the feeling of the rain against his fur.

Janie seems to pay no attention, however, as she unlocked her car and quietly slipped in. Once the engine's started, she bounces in her seat and backs out of the driveway. She drives with both feet, which Jacob found odd and endearing. She rolls down the windows.

Then out of nowhere, she inquires, "Is this a date?" It was voiced loudly by her dewy soprano so he had no doubts that she had meant to ask this question.

But it doesn't stop him from being surprised and he's glad he wasn't the one driving because he most certainly would have veered off the road. It takes him a minute or so to gather his bearings. Then another minute to think over a response. Then he decided that it was a hard question and so he was just going to ignore her, hoping that she'll come to find this moment awkward and tell him to forget about it.

She doesn't.

And the silence hangs between them like a heavy blanket of snow. And he feels guilty and rude for not answering the question she asked him so he answers in what he thought was a satisfactory response, "If you want it to be."

Jacob's heart was doing strange things inside of him, racing and stopping and stuttering like his Volkswagen Rabbit's old engine. He can hear his loud breathing and the pulse of his blood thumping unevenly in his ear and his chest was tightening and searing.

January Jansen says, "Okay."

What does that mean exactly? Jacob doesn't know. He stares out the window as Janie punches on the radio and tuned into her dirty rap station. He slumps down in his seat and shoves his hands into his pockets. His brows shot up when his fingers found the cool metal of the ring he pulled out of the garbage disposal some odd weeks ago. He wrinkles his nose in disgust. Just how long has he been wearing these jeans? They were laying on the floor and he just snatched it up, he thinks? He hopes.

He pulls it out and hands it to January wordlessly. It took several glances of her stormy eyes to find what he was holding up for her. She lets him drop it into her palm and slides it habitually into its place on her middle finger.

"Hey," She says suddenly. It came out of nowhere so Jacob jumped slightly. "Can I ask you something?"

He assumed that the question was rhetorical and that she was going to ask him anyways so he waits. And when she doesn't say anything, he gets annoyed. He sighs, exasperated, "What, Janie?"

He thought that it was going to be something really important because she kind of hesitated and January almost never hesitates. She was the shoot first, decide later type of person. But she had pursed her lips together and tightened her grip on the steering wheel. She opens her mouth several times, and then closed it, as if she's not entirely sure if he was going to take offense of what she says. And then finally, "Can you put on your seatbelt?"

The man with few words is surprised. But he does what he's told. Not just because she asked him to, but mostly because he felt like it.


Jacob Black curses.

He couldn't even leave her alone for a damn minute. Sons of bitches. Stinking up the whole place. Fucking leeches. He can't fucking stand them.

When they arrive at the Port Angeles mall, it took them almost a half hour to locate a parking spot and then it took January about ten minutes to get her little coupe into the goddamn parking spot. And as soon as Jacob stepped out of the car—as soon as he caught a whiff of that sickening sweet smell in the air, almost gagging him, he knew that there were vampires here.

Call it instinct. Call it being a werewolf. Call it being Jacob-fucking-Black.

But he just knew. It was strong and near and chances are, there's probably more than one of them because the stupid Cullens never leave the house just by themselves. They've got to have their little leech lover with them. His arm is starting to tremble and he really doesn't think that phasing on Janie during their first 'date'—or not date—is kind of a bad first impression.

So he tersely strides into the mall, back straight as an arrow, while January trailed after him with her inky tress loose and torso exposed. Goddamn it, he wishes she would put on something more decent. Then he turns and informs her stiffly that he had to go use the restroom and would she please wait for him in Pottery Barn?

She shrugs nonchalantly and glides into the furniture store, warning him that she was hungry and not to be long. Of course not, he assures her. As soon as she was fully absorbed by what the saleswoman was pitching about an Egyptian cotton bed-drape, he shot out of sight and roamed maniacally through the stores.

He went into the Candle shop. He went into the department store. Then he checked the jewelry place and the hair salon. He tried to think posh. Where would posh, elegant bloodsuckers go? He marches into Victoria's Secret. His search is not successful. He does not find vampires shopping for lavender scented candles or diamond rings or even lacey lingerie.

He returns to Pottery Barn with a confused furrow in his brow and a tug in his chest. Discomforted, he tries to tell himself that they probably left. Probably smelled him as he smelled them and took off. After all, he and the Cullens didn't exactly end things on friendly terms.

He saw January first. He spots her shimmering dark hair and pink ribbons and enchanting grin. And his heart hammered. His lips curved into a feeble, involuntary smile. She made him feel light-headed, like somebody pumped his body full of helium. Like he can just float off the ground.

But then something popped Jacob Black's balloon with a knife and made him go pale.

He almost lunged. Bloodsucker. That thin, blonde one who always seems so calm. Jacob didn't like him. Because he always seem to appear so undisturbed that it made Jacob feel like a fool for being so brash and impulsive. And even though Jacob was positive he loathed the guy, he can't actually bring himself to hate him when he's facing him. And that angered Jacob.

Jacob can't quite recall his name. It's somewhere in the dusty corner of his mind, hovering like a ghost. He's given up that past now. He's given it up since this morning. He doesn't want to go back, but it seems like God has a funny sense of humor.

James? Jason? Jasper.

He was leaning casually against a table, smiling handsomely, looking all dashing and charming in his crisp shirt and khakis. January was responding, a curious but perplexed, expression playing on her delicate features. She's beaming, but it seems more bemused than taken. As if she found the bloodsucker entertaining.

Fucking Jasper has got his hands all tangled in her long raven waves, staring at her with those freaky golden eyes of his with a dreamy longing. Like she was a piece of cottage cheese. And Jacob is shaking from head to toe, his body ready to shrug his skin off for a shag of fur. He forces himself to stay collected but the leech is already making a move, getting ready to put his slimy, icy hands on his elf's waist.

"Janie!" He barks, almost stomping as he made his way over. The entire store probably heard him but he doesn't care. All he cares about is getting her out of here as quickly as possible. And maybe ripping Jasper's arm off if he has the time.

Janie looks over at him, her tinsel-light gaze endearing and piercing. "Oh hey, you're back." She complains, "I'm starving. Took you long enough." Jacob's sunken, blazing eyes never left the blonde she just met, who was almost pressed against her a second ago, retreated back to a respectable distance. "This is Jasper. He helped me get something from the top shelf."

"We've met," Jasper responds impassively, "Jacob." He greets, almost sounding amiable. "I have to say that I'm surprised to see you here." His marble face stretches into a dazzling smile, and Jacob was surprised it didn't crack with the effort. "How have you been?"

Jacob grits his teeth together, his jaw itching to take a snap. "Fine." He spats, "Just fine." He didn't trust himself to say anything more. He was afraid he might phase.

"I didn't know you had gotten yourself such a wonderful little girlfriend." Jasper sounded puzzled and sarcastic. But Jacob can never tell for sure because he's got that whole manipulative air about him that he just didn't trust.

"She's not my girlfriend." He forces and for a second, Jacob wished that he was lying. Their thick, floral fragrance is stinging his nose and sending every nerve in his body into hyperactive gear. He was sure that every hair on his body is standing up straight.

Jasper pretends not to have heard him, sticking his hands into his pockets and shrugging, "I better go. Alice is waiting for me." He smiles extra-bright for January and murmurs a silky goodbye, then brushes past Jacob, making his russet skin scald from the contact. "I'll be sure to tell Bella that you said hi."

"Whatever,"Jacob grumbles. He doesn't care anymore.


January Jansen is eating ice cream out of a cup with a plastic pink spoon. She swings her legs and she's got both her arms propped on the table. They're sitting in a small table in the center of the food court. It was noisy here and it distracted Jacob from his thoughts—which, he was thankful for. She's studying him intently with watchful dove-gray eyes, as if she were afraid he might explode at any second.

She swallows a bite of the frozen treat, "Are you okay?" She blinks, "You seem distraught ever since you got here."

His lips twitched upwards. He's never heard anyone used the word 'distraught' so informally before. January was like a walking thesaurus, always phrasing her sentences with perfect structure and filling the spaces between them with big words. She was a grammar Nazi in a way. She almost had his head last week when he said 'me and my dad'. She hotly corrected him 'my dad and I, Juh-co-bee, it's my dad and I'.

He stabs the pink slush in his bowl. Janie made him order strawberry so that they can share. "I'm fine." She arches a brow, waiting. He exhales sharply, "I-I just don't like that guy, okay?"

"Who? Jasper?"

He growls and hurtles the name out vehemently, the sound of it feels like acid in his mouth, "Cullen." Janie's other brow shoots up as well. "That bloodsucker's brother." He grumbles a few more curses under his breath. "—Goddamn leeches."

"Do you want to talk about it?" January gazes at him blankly, her pretty, pretty face making his neck hot.

He turns away from her, "No."

January Jansen doesn't take offense from that. She doesn't pry and she doesn't ask again. She shrugs and drives another scoop of ice cream into her mouth. And she starts talking, something she did whenever she noticed that Jacob wasn't in an engaging mood. He was grateful for her. For having her in his life. For her clean chime and simple stories.

"Did I ever tell you about the Carolina State Fair?" She doesn't need him to answer or nod or even acknowledge her presence. She just talks; well aware and confident that he is listening. And she's right."Oh man. It's the greatest thing you'll ever experience. Jude and I go every year. We eat popcorn and funnel cake and ice cream and ride the Tilt-A-Whirl until we throw up. It's marvelous."

Jacob indulges in a ghostly smile, because January Jansen was so magical.

So he eats strawberry ice cream and wears plaid shirts and imagines himself to be a kid growing up in North Carolina...in Riverside High School. Where there are no werewolves and vampires. Where perhaps he would've been different and fell in love with someone else. Where his biggest problem would be Peter Petrelli and cheerleaders.

He lifts his eyes up for a moment, only to connect with that of the psychic. He remembers her, for she was small with dark hair just like Janie. They were even about the same size. Incredibly short and thin. But she was a leech, and her hair isn't long and girlish like Janie's. Alice, he remembers. She's standing by the map of the mall with the blonde behind her and she's staring at him directly. He feels like she was trying to set him on fire with her glare.

Inwardly, he was uncomfortable with the ferocity, but he glares right back, unabashed and just as determined. What, he wasn't allowed to have a life? Alice gives up on trying to stare him down and shifts her focus to January, who's prattling on about some teddy bear at the State Fair. Then the psychic's eyes were back on him. She raises a careful brow and gives Jacob this half-smirk.

Jacob Black thinks that she did something to cross the wires in his brain because he wasn't sure what prompted him to do what he did. He had felt his face grow hot and red and his hands start to shake and his heart beat really fast. Then his shouldres started to shake, his stomach twisted. And January Jansen is still going on-and-on-and-on about her stupid velveteen bear and he just wanted her to shut up and he just wanted the angry burn in his chest to stop so he grabbed her by the chin and kissed her hard.

It was an exhilarating feel. Like electricity flying through his veins, crawling under his skin, and a burst of fiery heat that flooded him from head-to-toe. He got goosebumps on his ears. He thought that he was going to burst open if he didn't kiss her. Thought that his chest was going to rupture and he would go down in flames. His heart thundered, his blood rushed, a jolting thrill sprinting up his spine.

She tasted like ice cream. Like Rocky Road. And...lemonade. And everything about Janie was so warm. Her skin was warm and her lips were warm. And she made him feel warm. Not scorching and blistering and filled with molten lava like usual, but just plain...warm. He can feel her lashes beating against his cheek, as if she can't quite decided rather to close her eyes or not. She smelled like the ocean, free and fresh and comforting.

Something vague in the back of Jacob's mind tells him that this was the first time they ever touched.

It was over almost as quickly as it begun. He let go of January's jaw and let his mouth detach from hers. Hers are pouty and red and she's peering up at him through hooded irises. He licks his lips, unsure of what to do next. He wonders if he should apologize because this is quite an awkward situation.

He's only ever kissed one person in his life. Well—all right, two if he ever did manage to kiss the woman from Argentina. But it didn't make him an expert and he was never good at being romantic or had good timing. He didn't know what this meant. He didn't know what he was feeling. God, he just wanted her to shut up. He just wanted her to accept him and...understand him. He just wants her to stay.

He knows that Alice Cullen was waiting as well. He can sense her sharp stare boring into his back, at the back of his skull.

January blinks. Then, "...so I told Jude that he had to get that bear for me or else I was going to throw a fit, because I really wanted that damn bear...it reminded me of..."


They're in the park next to the Port Angeles mall.

Jacob Black is caught in a whirlwind of emotions. He's confused; bewildered; lovesick. He shoves his hand through his hair for the umpteenth time, the clean shiny locks gliding through his fingers. He was growing hot and sweaty and he pulled at the heinous plaid shirt he's sporting. He paced angrily on the pavement, his heart a sputtering, frantic mess.

January Jansen is standing on top of a park bench. She's doing some weird stretches, bending down and touching her toes and readjusting her stockings. She looked tranquil except for her wild dark hair, which is fluttering in the wind along with her ribbons. Then she straightens and tugs on the ends of her dancing tress.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He stops in mid-pace, scuffing his shoes against the concrete. He sighs irritably, picking up his dark, hungry gaze from the ground to meet her metallic pale ones. Her skin is snowy, flushed with pink from the cold and her mesmerizing hair is flying. Her standing on the park bench made their height difference equal so he crosses over to her in two strides and, after hesitating for a second, placed his big hands on the sides of her head. Carefully, he slants his mouth over hers and kisses her again. Not because she told him to, but just because he felt like it.

He hopes it'll make her stay. He hopes this kiss will linger. He hopes that she'll love him.

The second time they touch. And Jacob Black grins against her lips, "No."


End Note:

WHOOO! So, pretty Janie and angry Jacob are finally taking their first steps. Exciting, no? Did you see that coming? Well, I always saw it coming. And I always knew it was going to happen this way, ever since I started writing chapter one. It just felt right, in my opinion. Something spontaneous and really really normal. This is a long chappie indeed and I just want to give SHOUTOUTS to everyone who reviewed. You guys are amazing and in the next chapter or so, I will list ALL of ya'll. You hear?! You rock my life, peoples.

Question of the day: This time, my fellow readers, I actually present you with a daunting task. Because Morning-Sunset had asked me what model or actress I had in mind for January, I started thinking that...hey, why don't I let the readers decide? So send me a picture of who you think is the perfect Janie and the winner gets an epic shoutout composed by moi, in the next chapter.

And just to be fair...mine will be on my profile page so go on, bounce over there and check it out, kay?

Can you honestly look at those two pictures and NOT think, JANUARY?! Miss Natalie Portman has always been my little model since this project, because she's so classy and dainty looking. She's just adorable.

And just for pimping purposes, chapter 2 of my JANUARY/PETER story is out! So if you love this story and you love me, go on over there and check it outttttt!

--Loves ya'll!