Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, or anything to do with it, however the OC's are all my own. The concept of Jasper being the 'God of War' is something that I've read in a few fics, but I don't know where it originates, so I'm sorry for not giving credit where credit's due! Plus, I have no idea what Louisiana, or Wisconsin are like - I'm from England, so please, forgive any mistakes. Have a great day, and I love you guys!

Camilla POV

October 2020

Madison, Wisconsin

Eventually, Peter released me from the Games Room, after making certain that I had sobered up, at least enough for the room to stop spinning and the rolling within my stomach to ebb away, slightly, and handed me a chilled bottle of water, then levelled me with a stony stare, and said, in a tone with no room argument, "Drink it all. If I catch you drinkin' anythin' other than water tonight, I'm gonna open a can of whoop-ass on you, alright, sugar?"

Honestly, I didn't blame him, and I didn't have it in me to argue with him, because I could see where his anger stemmed from. He left me, for a moment, to open the door, while I lay on my back, with the now-half-empty bottle of water against my forehead, and when he returned, his beautiful girlfriend was standing by his side, levelling me with piteous, fleeting glances, and, even in my inebriated state, I could see her attire was sexy and shit, and I appraised it, silently, through squinted eyes. She was dressed as a typical Southern Belle, of course; a red dress with off-white flowers splayed all over it, with a pair of mid-calf detailed, tan cowboy boots, paired with aviator sunglasses pinned in her hair and a pair of feather earrings dangling from her ears, completing the outfit. Almost sisterly, she patted along my forehead with a cool, damp cloth, and cooed at me, soothingly, while I frowned and sighed, until my vision sharpened, and I was able to stand on my own two feet without swaying from side to side.

Needless to say, it wasn't my proudest moment of my life, but they helped me through it. I didn't even know these guys, not really, if I were being honest, but they still stayed by my side, while they could have been out partying with the rest of our high school class. On the plus side, I didn't puke once, either, so I thought I was doing pretty well, considering the state I was in.

Well, that was until I saw them together.

Jasper.. And his girlfriend. They were walking down the winding stairs, clearly having just finished fucking, or something of that nature, if the fact that her gorgeous, thick blonde hair was mussed up and his dirty blond locks were a little messy, as if her fingers had been running through it over and over again, and I could see that his belt was a little wop-sided, as his shirt was tucked into his jeans, with a fading lip stain on his neck. Truthfully, I didn't know what to call the emotion that filled me then, but I hated it, and I never wanted to experience it again. Turning my back on the sight, although I was unable to forget I saw it, I went in search of Danny, because, really, I just needed someone to talk to. Eventually, after searching for him for about half an hour, I found him, halfway delirious, sitting behind the Cullen's large shed, filled with expensive doodads and machinery that I wouldn't ever be able to afford even after six lifetimes, before I settled on the cement pavement besides him. He wasn't so lucky - he was sitting in the dewy grass, his trousers having soaked up most of the residue, and patches of wet all over his butt and thighs. He thought it was hilarious, and I guess I did, too, a little.

"Are you okay, Danny? Need me to get you anythin', sweetheart?," I asked, slightly concerned about his wellbeing, considering he looked like he was either about to implode in on himself, or convulse and vomit everything he'd ingested at this party.

Neither occurred.

Instead, he reached for my hand, and tugged me so we were both shielded from view, and sat me in his lap, cuddling his nose in my neck, my body shielding him from whatever headache he was suffering from. Instead of being an asshole about it, I sat with him, running my fingers through his hair, and humming to him as he slept off his intoxication. Nearly two hours later, as the clocks rapidly approached midnight, he blinked himself awake - his eyes still red and blotchy, but significantly more focused.

Now that he was awake, he could start being sick.

I knew this from previous experience, so while he has been sleeping, I had gotten him a bucket, and a cloth to cool himself down with. Shuffling off of his lap, I continued to run my fingers through his hair, soothing him as he vomited over and over again, tears leaking from his eyes, not from sadness, but out of the sheer exertion his body was going through. A cold sweat broke out on his back, and he groaned, miserably, so I pressed the cool compress against his forehead, and he sighed at the difference in temperature. He mumbled a shitty, garbled, 'Thanks', and lay on his side, his head curled in my lap, his face facing away from me, and towards the bucket, just in case, and I carried on with what I was doing. Humming and running my fingers through his short, dark brown tresses.

It didn't take long for him to come out of his body's self-imposed stupor as he shook himself out of it, the trooper, and once we were both sure he was sober enough to join society, we walked inside - immediately hit with the heady, sweaty scent of 300 or so kids, grinding against one another, as if they had no morals.. Or clothes on. Once a particularly loud, bass-filled song came on that he enjoyed, he danced with me, right there, in the middle of the dance floor. He was a terrible dancer - but he didn't care. He made a spectacle of himself, not because he was drunk or high, but because he liked spending time with me, and he could tell I was in a bit of a shitty mood. Thankfully, he didn't ask me about it.

Waving at a provocatively dressed Rosalie, wearing a tight, zip-up jumpsuit, with a curling tail, a pointed arrowhead at the tip, and pointed devil ears poking up out of her perfectly pin-straight blonde hair, who was, more or less, being viciously humped into next year by a sexy fireman, AKA Emmett, who was donning a tight grey tee with stark braces draped over his shoulders, and steel cap boots on his feet, and receiving a lewd wink in response which made me chuckle, the whole world coming back into sharp focus. My lips were a little numb from being outside for so long, the hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and my skin felt all weird but I didn't care; I was having fun. And as long as I was having fun, I wouldn't have to think about them.

Together.

In bed.

Touching one another.

Holding one another.

Kiss-No.

I cant think about it; I just cant.

Tightening my hand around his neck, I pulled myself further into his embrace, and, noticing something was wrong, he placed his hands lightly on my waist, and drew small comforting circles on my waist, making sure I was alright, while simultaneously making me know that he's here for me if I need him. Even though he's fucked off of his face, he still had the mind to care for me. It was too sweet, honestly. Well, it would have been, had Jasper not chosen this moment to draw Danny back, roughly, by his collar, and slam him into the nearest wall, holding him by his neck, his eyes dark and.. Sweet Jesus, he was hot.

NO! Not hot, scary.

Scary guy.

Yeah.. Scary is good. Scary I can deal with.

Sexy.. No.. Not so much.

"Jasper! What the fuck are you doing?!" I spat, hoping to not draw too much attention to us, thanking my lucky stars that we're not around too many people, but the aggressiveness that Jasper was pulsating was going to gain interest, and I didn't need that right now. Not when I was having fun.

"Want me to let him go?" Jasper spat, his face contorting in unadulterated rage, "You want me to let this fucker go? How 'bout this then, okay?," he shoved off of Danny, who slid down the floor, and I went to go check on him. I say 'went to' because I felt Jasper grab my elbow, and drag me upstairs, leaving Peter to deal with Danny.

I tried to pull away, I really did, but.. Damn it, why is he so strong? A normal 18 year old teenager shouldn't be so well-built. It wasn't fair. Why did he get to be pretty, tall, broad and so fucking sexy?

It wasn't fair!

Up two flights of stairs, I felt Jasper pull me into the attic, with me clearly in a state of sheer distress, trying to wrestle out of his steel grip, to no avail, obviously, and the entire way, but nobody did or said anything. I guess they were too scared to get kicked out of the party. I could only imagine what would happen if Jasper was actually trying to really hurt me… They wouldn't even lift a finger to help me. The second floor was out of bounds, Carlisle and Esme's room were on this level, and it was disrespectful to make noise downstairs and upstairs too. That just wasn't fair. So, I shut up, and just let him take me. It could have been a big mistake, had I not trusted Jasper to not hurt me - not like Paul - but still, the instinctive fear was there, and I didn't want to cry out in sheer terror, but I felt my skin prickle, and the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. If I were on the outside looking in, I probably would have liked this moment to one of those romantic novels where the Prince Charming swoops in and saves his Princess from the evil beast, but.. Danny wasn't an animal, and Jasper wasn't a prince. He was a guy, like any other guy, and he could hurt me.

"Up," he barked, opening a door at the end of the second floor corridor, leading to what I assumed was the attic, and I felt my brows furrow, in confusion. He growled, deep in his chest, and my eyes widened in shock, and skipped up the flight of steps, hoping to high hope he couldn't see up my dress. He closed the door behind him, so nobody could follow behind us, and I felt my heart catch in my chest, skipping a few beats, in anxiety.

I didn't know why I was here.

I didn't know why he attacked Danny.

What did he do?

I hadn't realised I asked the question aloud until I felt my back pressed against the far wall, and our noses were pressed together, his breath fanning my face, and I felt the urge to flutter my eyes closed and just writhe in his natural scent. It was so masculine, and so sensual, that I felt the aching between my thighs throb, as he stared down at me, fury the only reigning expression recognisable on his face.

"What did he do?," he repeated, as if he couldn't understand why I said what I did, barely an inch from my face, his jaw tensing and thrumming in utter anger, and I saw his nostrils flare, heatedly, as he roared, a snarl marring his usually handsome, charming face, "You can really ask me that?"

I did notice that, after a quick sweep of his features - I had to force myself to stop focusing on his lips - is that his eyes weren't the usual molten gold that I was used to, but they were akin to that of fresh charcoal, and it made my stomach tighten, in anticipation. Stammering, clawing for the right words to say, and coming up with absolutely nothing, I replied, "I-I don't know.. I m-mean, what.. What happened?"

I wasn't scared of him, I could never be truly frightened of him, no matter how serious he could get at time but I will say that I was nervous as hell. He was so close to me, our knees bumping together, and one of his hands directly beside my right temple, trapping me in place, and pinning me to the wall with the intensity of his glare, and I didn't realise just how much I wanted to kiss him until then. I wanted to kiss him until I could taste nothing but his lips, and I wanted to sit in his lap, and hold him close, until we were practically one person. I wanted to do all sorts of things with him, but he was with someone. He had someone to love, to care for, to kiss, to touch. Why was he so close to me? I needed to breathe my own air. I needed to get away from him. He was choking me with his scent, pinning me with his eyes, overwhelming my every breath with the scent of leather, hay, some kind of heady cologne and red apples. I didn't.. I couldn't. He needed to move. I needed to move. Someone needed to move.

"Please," I begged, my fingers pressed against his chest, light enough for me to not get a real feel of his toned chest, but hard enough for him to get the message. I wouldn't be the other woman, and if he kept this up, I was going end up in that sticky predicament. Almost inaudibly, I added, "I cant think with you so close."

He froze, then, his eyes widening at the sound, and he inhaled, then whispered, lowly, "Have.. Are you high?"

Blinking, slowly, I replied, "No.. Not now anyway. I'm good now.. I- Well, shit I'm rambling.. I'm not high. Not now. I just.. Ah," and stepped away from him, inhaling deeply, bending my knees, bowing my forehead, hoping to get some air to my system. There was a beat of silence on his end, before he rubbed circles on my lower back, inciting more sensual flares through my system. I flinched away from his hold, I couldn't have him touching me. I wanted him.. So badly, but he wasn't mine.

"Sorry.. I shouldn't have put my hands on.. Daniel," he had to force his name from his lips, as if the very thought of saying it out loud was toxic enough, and he said, his tone subdued, stoic and then, he growled, "I wont touch you again.. I get it."

"T-Thank you," I sighed, my head spinning, vertigo knocking me on my ass, and I asked, quietly, "Can.. Can I just sit down, please?"

He replied, absent-mindedly, "Mhmm.. Sit on the bed," then, as I froze, he amended, embarrassed, with his hands raised, "I'll be in the chair, I promise. I wont be near you."

Shakily, I shuffled onto his bed, the sheets a fresh brown colour, the pillows strangely comfortable beneath my head and hands. The silence between us was deafening, and I didn't want to do so much as breathe too loudly, because I felt like I might crack in half from the intensity of his stare. Forcing myself to look up, meeting his now-topaz eyes, head-on, I asked, thankful for the space between us, which allowed me to breathe easier, "What happened downstairs?"

He broke our eye contact, to stare at the floor, and replied, apologetically, "I'm sorry.. I.. I find it.. Hard to be around you, sometimes."

My brow puckered, and I felt my ears heat up at his words, feeling an icy slice of rejection slash through me, and I replied, pathetically, "Oh.."

"No," he exclaimed, his eyes widening, comically, then he elaborated, stammering slightly, himself, "Not that… Never that… I cant…. I cant watch you be around other guys.. It.. Makes me feel all… Uncomfortable, I guess."

My forehead crumpled, not comprehending where he was going with this, and I asked, with a purse of my lips, "What do you mean?"

"I mean.." he sighed, then whispered, angrily, "Why is this so hard? What I mean is that I.. I don't like you being around other guys. Especially that Daniel guy. He's.. You're.. Fuckin' damn it!" and put his face in his hands, sighing, loudly, into his long fingers, then, in annoyance, he ran his hands through his hair, and I almost choked on the air coming into my chest because, good God, he was so fucking attractive. Inhaling, deeply, I asked, "But you're with that girl so.. I don't see how you can ask.. Or even say that me, someone who you don't even know, being around other guys bothers you.. It's kinda hypocritical. It jus' doesn't make sense, Jasper."

A sudden frown marred his features, and I barely restrained the urge to roll my eyes towards the ceiling, as I felt a slash of annoyance run through me, as he asked, all bewildered and adorable, "What girl?"

I spat out a bitter chuckle, and glared at him, without malice but with a clear frustration in my expression that it would have been impossible for him to not notice it, and I replied, pointedly, "Don't be that guy. You know what I'm talking about."

His lips, oh those fucking lips, fell into a grim line, and glanced away, ashamedly, to which I simply responded with "Exactly."

"Look," I stood, then, forcing a sense of calm to envelop me, one that I truly didn't feel on the inside, in the slightest, and stated, assuredly, "I appreciate you carin' about me and all, but.. I already have a big brother, an' I really don't need any more.. So, uh, thanks, but.. I'm gonna go back now."

I turned my back on him, my heart clenching, my instincts screaming at me to turn back around and run back into his arms, hiding from the truth, but I didn't. I steeled myself and carried on, even though my knees shook from the sheer effort and my lips trembled as I chewed on it. Honestly, I totalled about six steps towards the door before I felt his steel grasp wrap around my elbow, and he said, his voice filled with such emotion, his expression light and his eyes dancing as he took me in, "I don't wanna be your brother," his arm wrapped tightly around my waist, carrying my weight easily from one foot to the other, "Or your fuckin' friend," and, then, he pulled me close, our chests slotting together, perfectly, and our noses bumping against one another, his breath fanning my face once more, and this time, it did make my eyes flitter closed in pure pleasure, while he whispered, lowly, "I wanna be yours."

And he kissed me.

Sweet good God, it was perfect.

His lips were softer than the finest velvet, like the inner most sacred part of a flower - its petal - against my own, and I inhaled, shocked, tightening my grip on his biceps, as they flexed and rippled with barely contained passion. It was like someone set fire to the air around us, and everything just.. Flowed together. My hands in his hand, tightening in the thick curls at the base of his neck, his fingers trailing my spine, holding my neck in place, manoeuvring me so I was pliant in his hands. He walked me backwards, and I followed his lead, my hands fisting his shirt in my hands, I sighed into the kiss, and he grinned, in response, and pulled away, pressing his nose into my neck, licking and nipping at the skin there, and whispered against the expanse, "Mine.. Sweet Jesus.. So good."

My eyes closed of their own volition, my back arching into his hold, and I couldn't stop myself from hooking my leg around his waist as he pressed me into the wall, so forceful and strong, and he tightened his hand behind my knee, rubbing sultrily against my heated skin. Impulsively, I dug my fingers into his shoulders, the material of his shirt crinkling as I did so, and he growled, low in his throat, in response, "You're playing a dangerous game, sugar."

Quirking a flirtatious brow up at him, I smirked, then replied, teasingly, "Oh.. Dangerous, are you, Texas?"

He rumbled, lowly, with a blasé smirk on his perfect lips, "Yes.. Dangerous. I'm so dangerous. You jus' don't understand, sugar."

He pressed a singular kiss to my lips, his tongue poking from between his lips and he massaged my own with the warm muscle, and I felt the aching between my thighs increase, tenth fold. Instead of unhooking my leg, I hopped upward, and he caught me, with his other hand, and pressed me harder against the wall, with his hands palming the supple curve of my ass. Tilting my head from side to side, to match the intensity of the kiss, our tongues clashing in the most ferocious of ways, and just when I felt him pull me from the wall, as if he were going to walk me over to the bed, I heard my phone vibrate in my clutch, and we broke apart, then, however I felt him release me from his hold, and he helped me get to my feet, however his hands rested on my waist, as he drew small circles there, as if he did not want to let me go, even though he knew I needed him to. Without checking the caller ID, I asked, nervously, "Clyde?"

His voice was panicked, and slightly out of breath, as he had just finished running, and he asked, "Where are you?"

I glanced back at Jasper, as he rested his lips against the base of my neck, peppering the expanse of skin with short, quick kisses, and then I replied, as steadily as I was able, "With Jasper, why?"

He growled, and I could picture him glaring at his phone, and he replied, "Tell that fucker if he puts a hands on you, I will kill him."

My eyes widened, turning to him, who wore a silly half-smile on his face, and rolled his eyes, completely unbothered by my brother's threat, and I replied, "Mhmm.. He knows."

Clyde scoffed, "He better."

Hoping to get the topic of conversation from me, I asked, quietly, "You with Alice?"

He chuckled, briefly, probably wrapping his arms around the smaller female, and then he replied, "Yeah.. The party's windin' down now.. Danny's still here, though, he wanted to check on you, and make sure you okay, cher."

Feeling Jasper tense at the mention of Daniel's name, his hands froze on my waist, then he excavated himself from me completely, and I pulled away, to stand up and shuffle around the room, then asked, "Cly, put him on, please?"

In the background of the call, I heard some ruffled movement, then Danny's asked, worriedly, "Are you okay, Cammy?"

Nodding, even though I knew he couldn't see me, I replied, with a cheery grin, "Yeah.. I'm fine. I'm worried about you, Danny, are you alright?"

He laughed, quietly, and said, "Yeah! I'm good! He didn't hurt me.. It was kind of like he just wanted me away from you.. Are you two a 'thing'?"

Glancing out of my peripherals at Jasper, who resigned on his bed, his eyes closed, his arms behind his head, although his entire aura radiated undercurrents of anger, if his clenched fists said anything, I muttered, pointedly, "I don't know.. Honestly.. We still on for Monday?"

He paused, for a moment, then responded, coolly, "For sure, I'll pick you up around 10am?"

Nodding, I gnawed on my lower lip, hoping I was being quiet enough as to not draw another angry reaction from Jasper, and answered, "I'll see you Monday."

As of Friday, we were off school, for All Hollow's Eve Weekend, and Danny and I had planned to go out for a drive to our Spot. It wasn't anything grand, but it was a nice time. I liked being around Danny, he made me smile when I wanted to cry.

"See you Monday, Cammy."

In a hushed tone, I rushed out, "Bye, Dan," to which he simply laughed at, and hung up. Turning to face Jasper, who was now sitting up, with his eyes wide open, golden, sharp and dazzling, and it seemed to me that he was staring straight through me. This was going to be an interesting conversation, to say the least.