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
December 2020
Madison, Wisconsin
The ride to the Cullen's home was filled to the brim with juddering nerves, to say the least.
We had always planned on going over, at least for a few hours in the evening, just to exchange gifts and the like, but we felt a little uncomfortable leaving our dad alone at home alone. But, on the cusp of six in the afternoon, he had been called, abruptly, in to work. Something about the cold weather icing over a network of pipes in his district office at work. It took him a while, but he was out of the house by seven, and Clyde and I went about getting dressed.
I didn't want to be too dressed up - I mean it was cold, and the middle of December. I picked out an over-sized sweater and a pair of sturdy skinny jeans, coupled with my favorite boots and a nice, thick scarf to shield my neck from the bristling cold. I threw all of the presents in my backpack, careful of the simple gift-wrapping that I had, pathetically, tried to swathe over the presents.
It was a dismal attempt, but I tried. By the time it was seven in the evening, I was outside the Cullen's hulking stately mansion, with my hands tight around the straps of my backpack, shaking, slightly. I tried to convince myself that it was because of the cold, but I was nervous; outrageously so, as a matter of fact.
Clyde wrapped his large, strong arm around my shoulders, and immediately I was swarmed with his crisp, distinctly Clyde-smell, and said, while shaking me, to snap me out of my reverie, "C'mon, Cher, they're waitin' inside."
Chewing on my lower lip, I stepped forward, if only slightly, and mumbled, apprehensively, "O-Okay."
He chuckled, under his breath, and said, not unkindly, "It's not our first Christmas, Cam."
Sighing, heavily, I grumbled, clearly exasperated, "But it's.. Different."
He flicked my nose with his fingers, and answered, seriously, "I know.. Look, before we go inside, I have to tell you something."
My brow crumpled, but I stammered, hesitantly, "Okay?"
When Clyde got serious, something had to be gravely wrong. He reclined on the hood of his Baby, and grasped both of my hands in his, staring down at me, deep in my eyes, and said, finally, "I'm sorry."
Tilting my head to the side, I asked, curiously, wracking my brain as to what he could be talking about. "What for?"
He bit his own lip, anxiously, and answered, honestly pouring out of his every orifice, "Not being there for you, two years ago. I know you hate talking about it, but I just have to get this out once. I'm so sorry for leaving you behind. For leaving you to go through that alone. I'll never be able to say it enough for you to understand just how sorry I am."
Sighing, sadly, I responded, almost pulling away, "I know you are, Clyde."
He held on infinitely tighter, and declared, solemnly, "No, you don't get it. I'm supposed to be your big brother, the guy you lean on when you need me, and I was an asshole. I left you behind, and I'll never do that again. I swear."
Wrenching my hands from his, I said, curtly, "Don't."
He looked saddened by my actions, and his eyes screamed for me to keep holding on, but I just couldn't. He entreated, "Don't what?"
Without looking at him, I replied, almost inaudibly, "Don't promise me something that you cant keep."
He started, heartbrokenly, "Cam.."
Shaking my head, I cut him off, kicking up some of the gravel beneath my feet, trying to distract myself, "No. I'm not mad at you, Clyde, I'm really not. Not any more, anyway. But you cant promise to 'be around' all of the time. If that was the case, I'd go crazy because you wouldn't leave me alone. I'll just settle for you being the bestest big brother ever, and keeping me safe. Even when I'm the one in the wrong."
He sighed, and pressed a long, surprisingly touching, kiss to my forehead.
Pushing him away, I stepped towards the Cullen house, where I was sure some kind of lavish celebration was taking place, "Besides.. I love you anyway. Not much I can do to change my dummy twin."
He ruffled my hair, playfully, dispelling whatever sadness had captured him before, and said, "Whatever, loser."
Rolling my eyes towards the rapidly darkening sky, I answered, "I know. I love me too."
He shoved me away, with a grin, and exclaimed, in a haughty, incredibly crappy British accent, "Alright, enough of this. We have gifts to deliver!"
Grimacing, deeply, I yelled, unenthusiastically, the nausea returning with a vengeance, "Let's go."
-0-
Rubbing my hands up and down my own thighs, hoping the sparks of heat would shake me out of the Jasper-induced stupor I had been entranced in as soon as I locked eyes with him as I stepped over their threshold almost an hour ago. Swallowing, anxiously, I stammered, "I know we've only been together for a short while, but.. Well, it's Christmas, and I'd.. well. Damn. Just take it before I burst into flames, please."
Jasper smirked, but said nothing else. He didn't even take the gift from my hand. He simply turned a little, so my body was settled beneath him, and he was settled between my legs.
"You know," he started, his fingers cupping the back of my knees, so my legs were locked snugly around his hips. "You didn't have to get me anything."
Embarrassed, I played with his long, calloused fingers, mapping the creases of his palm and the notches of his knuckles, with the smooth pad of my own digits. I mumbled, after a long pause, "I know. I couldn't think of anything that you would want, that you didn't already have. I couldn't buy you a damn thing."
He laughed, into my neck, making me shiver slightly, as his breath tickled my skin. He murmured, casually, "I guess so."
"I mean," I ran my fingers through the base of his skull, his cotton-soft golden curls calming my racing pulse in ways that nothing else could, "What do you buy the guy who has everything?"
His shoulders tensed for a moment before smoothing out, slightly, and I found myself worrying that my mouth had gotten me into more trouble. His eyes locked with mine and he searched for something in the depths of my orbs. He seemed saddened by something, and I scratched at the base of his neck. He replied, after a pregnant pause, "I don't have everything."
Unable to think of anything to answer, I simply said, "Sure. Sure."
He pulled away, only to look into my eyes, and pressed the tips of our noses together, softly, "No, I really don't. I mean, I was lucky. These guys.. They saved me. I'm not like them. I'm not.. Good."
Without really thinking about it, I answered, intertwining our fingers, "You're good for me."
He smiled, but it was that kind of melancholy grin that made my heart ache rather than jump for joy. He said, filled with a sudden revolution, "I need to tell you about me. Where I came from, my real parents. That kind of thing."
Tilting my head to the side, feeling my hair fall over onto one of my shoulders, I muttered, my eyes flickering down, entirely transfixed by the sharpness of his cupid's bow, "That would be nice."
Almost catching onto my train of thought, he said, languidly, "Not tonight though. You're warm."
Rolling my eyes, I placed my hands on the crook on his neck, and just drew lazy circles with my index fingers, feeling the skin thrum beneath my palms. Somewhat sarcastically, I answered, "Of course I am. And you're heavy."
He laughed, unapologetically, and said, his lips pressed against my jaw-line, "Sorry, but I'm too comfortable."
His nose pressed against the curve of my neck, and I could feel his cool breath puff against my skin as he exhaled. Shrugging, casually, I replied, with pursed lips, "I get that a lot."
He frowned, deeply, and snapped, without heat or malice, "You better not."
Kissing the bridge between his brows, I simply smiled, and pleaded, pathetically, "Just look at it, will you?"
Begrudgingly, he shuffled off of my body, and I let out a light sigh, immediately missing the feel of his weight pressing down on top of me, "Alright, alright."
Crossing my legs together, I say up, and traced shaped in his duvet, "Tell me what you think.. Honestly, okay?"
He sat back down, in front of me, making me shuffle, a little, into the air, as he did, and said, rolling his own golden orbs, "I will."
He peeled away the wrapping paper, carefully. Layer by layer, my gift was revealed, and my tongue was doing nothing but unnerving somersaults inside of my mouth. I chewed on the inner of my cheek until I thought I would make myself bleed, and went to nearly rubbing the skin off of the base of my palm.
His brows furrowed, adorably, and asked, "Is this.. Is this a CD?"
Slowly, I replied, "Yeah.."
He glanced into my eyes, fractionally, before stating, "Gimme a second. I'll go get my laptop."
As he stood, I admitted, embarrassed, "I'm nervous."
His eyes were focused on his laptop screen as he asked, airily, "Why?"
Biting on my lip, I answered, "Just listen to it. I'm going to go.. I cant watch you."
He grasped my forearm in an iron-tight grip, and pinned me with an amused stare, and ordered, playfully, "Sit your ass down."
I glanced at the door, the tips of my ears tinged in embarrassment, "But-"
He nipped at my fingertips, making me smile, unwillingly, and repeated, just as mischievously as before, "Down."
Huffing, I conceded, unhappy that I was going to have to sit through this ordeal, "Fine."
He smirked, and fished in his book bag for the aforementioned gadget. Nervously, I tucked my twitching legs beneath me, and rubbed my sock-clad feet together, feeling the heat generated between them warm my toes. Jasper commented, sweetly, his sharp eyes flickering down to look at me, warmth apparent in his expression, "You're nervous."
Frowning, I asked, "Is it that obvious?"
In faux-lament, he nodded and stated, twisting the plastic CD in his hands, distractedly, "I wonder what's on this little thingy that's got you so damn bothered."
Grabbing his knee, I pleaded, "Listen to it, please, Jazz."
He looked at me, and leaned down, if only to tease me, and said, just as our lips brushed one another, "Alright alright, sugar. I'm comin'."
He snuggled behind me, with the laptop in my lap while I was rested in his, with him perching his head on my shoulder. It would have been cute, had I not wanted to vomit all over myself.
"Relax," he soothed, clasping one of his large hands with both of my smaller ones, and kissed my cheek.
He brought the laptop to life, and once he tapped in his password and the like, he slid the disc in the slot hidden in the side of the device, and waited.
Quietly.
Not even a hitch in his breathing, while I was practically dying with exasperation, in his lap.
Would he like it? Oh, but what if he didn't? what if he hated it? Or if he didn't know what I was talking about? What if I had overanalysed everything? What if this whole gift was a waste?
I couldn't stop it now. He had already put it in, and his hands held my wrists in an steely clutch. I clenched my eyes shut, and prayed to every deity that I could think of. I hope I wasn't making an ass out of myself. The soft rifts of my trusty guitar trickled through the speakers, and I felt my cheeks flush in embarrassment.
It's hard for me to say the things
I want to say sometimes
There's no one here but you and me
And that broken old street light
Lock the doors
Leave the world outside
All I've got to give to you
Are these five words
Thank you for loving me
For being my eyes
When I couldn't see
For parting my lips
When I couldn't breathe
Thank you for loving me
Thank you for loving me
I never knew I had a dream
Until that dream was you
When I look into your eyes
The sky's a different blue
Cross my heart
I wear no disguise
If I tried, you'd make me believe
That you believed my lies
Thank you for loving me
For being my eyes
When I couldn't see
For parting my lips
When I couldn't breathe
Thank you for loving me
You pick me up when I fall down
You ring the bell, before they count me out
If I was drowning, you would part the sea
And risk your own life, to rescue me
Lock the doors
Leave the world outside
All I've got to give you
Are these five words
Thank you for loving me
For being my eyes
When I couldn't see
For parting my lips
When I couldn't breathe
Thank you for loving me
When I couldn't fly
Oh, you gave me wings
You parted my lips
When I couldn't breathe
Thank you for loving me
Thank you for loving me
Thank you for loving me
Oh, thank you, for loving me…
He released my wrists, and I found that they were now pulsing with a muted pain. I didn't realise how tight his grip was until he let me go, and I found that the blood started to rush back to my forgotten fingertips. I was on my back so quickly that I didn't even realise he had moved. He kicked the laptop, that was probably atrociously expensive, away - I heard it tumble to the floor with a muted thud - and nestled between my thighs once more. Then, he began savaging my skin with kisses. Searing, feverish, heated, angry, passionate. All of these ways to describe the frenzy that had to have been whirling inside of his head right now didn't depict it right. Not a hundred percent, anyway. It was almost too hot, too intense, too much of everything all wrapped up in a pair of open, wet lips, encasing my own. I thought that if I let go of his shoulders, even for a moment, I would get caught up in the tide and drown.
He knitted his fingers with my own, his knee raised and positioned in between my legs, pinning me in place. His lips never left my skin for even a moment, the heat too intense. Even as my head turned to the side, unable to breathe, he pressed his lips to my neck, his teeth scratching against my warm skin, his lips pulled up at the corners in a sensuous smile, and his hands smoothing out at my sides. I whined, breathlessly, "Jas... What are you thinking?"
He pulled away, and grabbed my face between his large hands, forcing me to face him, his eyes burning into my own, and I felt my bruised lips thrum and practically vibrating as he released them from his onslaught. He whispered, his voice wrecked and his tone soft and almost vulnerable, as though the words were being torn from his very heart and forced up his throat and out of his mouth, "I'm yours. I'm all yours. I-I cant think about anything when you're around, and it's even worse when you're not here."
Speechless, I babbled, pathetically, "I-I don't know what to say."
He grinned, his eyes dancing with something I couldn't describe, and he said, pressing our foreheads together. He breathed, warmly, "You don't have to say anything. Just.. Let me."
"Let you, what?"
He closed his eyes, and quietly whispered, against my lips, "Let me take care of you."
Okay, I thought, as he enveloped my tongue with his mouth, and stole the words from my lips.
-0-
A few hours later, Jasper and I were laying on his bed, our legs tangled together, and his arms draped around my middle as he read, while I faked paying attention to some decade old action movie - one I had picked, mind you - on his surprisingly undamaged, silver laptop. Jasper's chest was far more interesting, honestly. And a lot harder to ignore. My fingers were drawing innocent spirals over his shirt, and our breathing matched, soft and steady. In the reflection of the screen, I saw him glance up, over the head of the book he was reading, and he asked, quietly, "I think this is the part where I give you your present, right?"
Without glancing back, I murmured, honestly, "You didn't have to get me anything."
He rolled his eyes, and closed the book, the spine wrinkling, as if he had read and re-read the same passage a hundred times beforehand, and placed it on the bedside table. He grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, "Of course I did."
Pushing the laptop screen closed, I shuffled around, so I was facing him on my side, my hair pulled over my shoulder, and a small smile on my face. I replied, fairly, "Either way, thanks. I'd be a liar if I said presents didn't make me smile."
He drawled, flirtatiously, his golden eyes darkening considerably as he drank me in, clearly unable to help himself, "Lemme see your smile, and then you'll get it, baby."
I forced my face forward, and grinned, exaggeratedly, all toothy and wolfish. He smiled, softly, and whispered, to himself, "There it is."
He leaned over on the side of his bed, fishing in the bottom of his bedside drawer, fiddling, nervously, with a long, rectangular velvet box. He said, with wide eyes, "Here. It's not.. It's not a ring. don't get too excited-"
I scoffed, my cheeks flushing at his assumption, the thought never even filling my head for a moment, "-Like I would anyway!"
He continued, as if I hadn't spoken, the only tell-tale sign that he had being a bemused roll of his eyes, as he settled back behind me, "It wasn't very expensive, so don't complain. It was pretty, and I thought you'd like it, that's all."
His long, muscular arms came around my waist, so the velvet box was in front of my face, yet I was unable to see Jasper's expression. I got the feeling that he wanted it this way, and I assumed it was because he felt some kind of embarrassment himself over the gift, and I rolled my eyes, lovingly. As if he had been practicing, he flipped open the lid with his two thumbs, revealing the prettiest necklace that I had ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on.
The thin chain swooped down long enough, so the pendant would hang between my breasts, hidden from unwanted view. The main piece was a small, intricately designed flower. The petals were studded with sharply cut, small glittering red jewels. The stem was made out of what I assumed was stainless steel, but I wasn't a blacksmith, so I wouldn't know the difference between this, and something more expensive. I hoped he hadn't spent too much money on it, but after seeing the house that they lived in and the cars they drove, I knew that the cost of something didn't even come into consideration when they thought about purchases. The bud of the flower changed colour as the light hit the prism shaped gems at different angles, making my heart swell with glee and my eyes wide in curiosity. He turned the piece over, and on the back were two letters - C and J - intertwined with one another, and the tears began falling from my eyes, freely.
I knew my period was coming, but God damn, why did I have to be so fucking emotional all of the freaking time?
Quietly, I pulled my hair out of the way and turned around, and he placed the jewelry around my neck. He wiped them away with his thumb, and his eyes glittered with happiness as he stated, sincerely, "Merry Christmas, baby."
"Merry Christmas, Jas."
A little Bon Jovi for the kids.
Sorry, anyway! I've been dumb busy recently. I still have a job, working 8-16 hours a week, I'm at college 40 hours a week, and life is just getting a bit hectic. My exams will be over in just over 2 months, so I'll probably give you another update before the end of the week, as until then, it'll be radio silence.
Anyway, thank you for reading, please review, favorite and follow this story.