Hi sweetest readers, I hope each of you are so well and nestling in for a Christmas or restful season so sweet. I know Christmas or this time of year can be the most beautiful time, but also the most painful and lonely for others too. Whether it be soft and beautiful or an ache in your heart, I am sending my love to you all so sweet across the oceans and landscapes so wondrous. I wish with all my heart you enjoy this chapter so. Each follow, favourite and review makes my heart blossom with so much love and hope. I can't wait to hear what you all think, and until next time - I send you sweet comforts, loves and prayers for hope and peace. All my love, Elodie.

Willa curled into the shadows as she sat at the back of her final class for the day – her heart lost in memory as she traced each moment, each image in her mind as she gave Jasper her letter. She still felt his touch linger against her fingertips, against her lips as she had pressed them to his cheek in a thankful gesture. Yet that gesture had imprinted upon her so, imprinted upon her peony lips and fingertips which danced over her wooden desk. She thought it so curious, so wondrous how a stranger could in day dreams and brief encounters turn into something more. She didn't understand it, that linger of him within her, and a part of her wasn't so sure if she wanted to.

When the bell rang the end of the day, Willa moved nimble and light in-between the bustle of students until she saw the old red hues of Bella's truck. She sped up a little upon seeing it, upon seeing Bella already waiting for her with a pained expression upon her face. Worry furrowed across Willa's eyebrows as she reached her cousin and placed a hand upon her cheek.

"What's wrong?" She asked her, seeing the upset in her eyes. "What's happened?" Bella shook her head in Willa's cupped palm, her mouth opening and closing as if she were to speak. She looked flustered, looked confused and hurt as her eyes looked down to the floor. But when they looked up, when they looked up and past Willa, Willa turned to see the distress causing her cousin. Following her gaze, she saw the reddish haired Cullen brother. She moved closer to Bella, wrapping an arm around her waist as her forehead fell against hers and her eyes took him in. He held a strange expression on his face, one contorted and beyond troubled. His eyes were dark, dark and uneasy as if an unspoken threat festered within them towards Bella. "Come on." Willa whispered gently, letting her hand fall from Bella's face as she opened the door for her to enter the truck. Once safe inside, she rounded the truck to the other side and took another peek at the Cullen brother.

Yet as her eyes tried to unriddle the tangled puzzle that twisted his facial expression, Willa's eyes moved to the left and briefly fell upon Jasper. He was not looking at her, his eyes focused on the conversation he was having with his sister. But Willa could see his clenched hand, could see a petal peek out in-between his curled fingers and for a brief and too short moment, Willa could have sworn his eyes glanced her way.

Pocketing her thoughts of Jasper away, Willa turned, opened the door and took her seat beside Bella. Without time to put her seatbelt on, Bella twisted the key and began driving out of the school parking lot. Tears welled in her eyes, and her hands trembled on the wheel. Ever since Bella was little, when she was angry she would cry. She thought it was humiliating, but Willa, suffering from the same sensitivity, understood her too well. She was angry yes, but her anger or struggle to express anger was always clouded by tears of upset, of hurt.

"Bella." Willa said, reaching forward and placing her hands over Bella's which lay on the wheel. "Pull over sweetheart, pull over." Each word she spoke was gentle and soft, a soothing lullaby to the loudness of thoughts in Bella's mind. "Right there." She continued, moving the wheel with her hands over Bella's.

Turning the engine off, Willa moved close to Bella and brushed her cousin's hair behind her ear. "What happened sweet girl?" She asked her, worry painting her eyes, "what did he do?"

"Is there," Bella shook her head as she spoke, as she tried to will her tears to stay nestled in her eyes. "Is there something wrong with me? I mean, do I smell or?"

"Bella, no." Willa took her cousin's hands in hers. "There is nothing wrong with you. You are beautiful inside and out, perfect in every way that matters. And as for smelling, oh sweet girl all you smell of is the sweet scent of strawberries in your hair. There is nothing, nor could there ever be anything wrong with you." Bella smiled a shy smile at Willa's soft words. "What would make you think that?" Willa asked, her thumb caressing Bella's hand as she softly inquired.

"Edward he – in Biology when he looked at me he had the strangest expression on his face. It was so hostile, so furious. And when I sat next to him, he leaned away from me and sat on the extreme edge of his chair. The whole class, he never relaxed his stiff position, and I could see his hand clenched so tightly. Tendons were standing out under his pale skin and-" Bella squeezed her eyes as tears threatened to spill. "And then he tried to trade to another class of Biology at another time – any other time or class. I just, I just don't understand." Bella opened her eyes and looked to Willa in helpless desperation who seemed to mirror her upset.

"Bells." Willa began, her fingers intertwining with hers. "I, I'm so sorry. I," She nibbled her lower lip as she took in Bella's confession, as she tried to piece together a puzzle that cracked her cousins' heart. "I know so the hurt that weeps in your heart my lovely, I truly, truly do. But my honey, there is nothing wrong with you. You are beautiful and kind, soft and sweet. You barely spoke to him and him you. And so, within that little wonder, paired with who you are, you didn't do anything for him to react in such a way. Maybe," She continued gently, piecing pieces of the puzzle in her own troubled mind as she spoke. "Maybe he is suffering from something within his own private life. Sometimes when one is struggling with such tragedies or pain, it can leak and spill out in ways that are not there true reasoning nor form."

"You really think so?" Bella asked, whipping her nose on the back of her sleeve.

"I do." Willa replied, using her free hand to brush away two tear drops from Bella's cheeks.

"Maybe I should confront him tomorrow? What do you think?" Bella wondered, looking out the front window of the car as memories of Edward replayed in her mind. His face tormented her, the way he seemed so repulsed by her. For despite Willa's comforting words, she couldn't seem to shake the way he looked at her, the way he moved and recoiled.

"Maybe confronting is a little forward, but maybe you could ask if he is alright?" Willa suggested. "If there is anything you could help him with? I know that sometimes, responding to cruelty with kindnesses, a soft and gentle touch or look can sometimes unravel something or someone who did not know they needed unravelling." As Willa spoke, she couldn't help but think to Lina, think of how she too maybe should listen to her own words rather than give them. But with her sensitive heart, she always found it easier to give advice rather than to follow it. Sometimes she felt as if her mind and heart had a loose wire between them, that even though she thought something, her emotions couldn't seem to heal or follow their thoughts of comfort.

"Willa, what did Jessica mean at lunch today? When she said that Jasper made you flustered?" Bella asked after a moment of letting Willa's help settle within her.

Willa's eyes seemed to fluster at the mention of Jasper's name, as if his name brought about a private secret or feeling into a light it did not wish to be in. She let go of Bella's hand, leaned back into her seat and brushed her hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture.

"I'm not sure." Willa said a little too quickly. "I barely looked at him so."

She didn't want Bella knowing about what happened with Jasper today, to let her into her most private and intimate feelings that even she was unsure of. She wanted to keep him secret, keep whatever had transpired lost in privacy and blushing hues within her own heart. She wasn't sure if it was because she felt embarrassed, if she felt guilty or flushed or maybe if because she spoke of him it would take away something from the memory. But with her emotions being her ruler, her thoughts hushed and seemed to follow that yearning for secrecy and privacy – to keep Jasper Hale nestled between the pages of her memories and colors in her paintings. "Maybe she was just looking for some excitement." Willa covered. "But anyways, shall we go home? I know Charlie isn't the best cook so I thought it may be lovely if we prepare a little something for him for dinner."

"Yea, I…I'd like that idea." Bella smiled, smiled past her tear blushed cheeks and quick change of subject.

"Everything will be alright in time, sweet girl. Just let time have it's moment." Willa said softly, her doe eyes softening Bella's heart as she gave her one last smile before driving back into the fog and rain.

Just let time have its moment. The words haunted Willa as she lay in bed awake – the night sky proclaiming the hours of sleep which Willa did not seem to be allowed into. She lay upon her back as moonlight spilled into her room like liquid velvet and draped over her pale skin. She was dressed in a light white nightdress made of tulle, her long hair curling around her in soft waves as her eyes remained open in thought.

She thought of her mother and father, of Fitz and all that had faded and was now new in its first bloom. Time. She wished she could slow it, to freeze it and bend it at her will. Grief still claimed her heart, claimed her heart for all she lost in both lives, loved ones and herself. Her hand lay against her heart as it beat within her, and she couldn't help but wish it would calm for one moment – that it would not be so easily opened or given away, so succumbed and enslaved to her emotions. She thought of Bella and wondered if she was asleep, thought of Charlie and how he handled his own grief in losing a sister.

She knew that when Charlie looked at her he saw his sister – saw her through each word and movement, each glance and gesture. She could feel his longing each time he looked at her, but she wasn't sure if he could feel hers in return. Charlie had never been one used to hugs and the expression of love through touch – but Willa, oh she was desperate for it. She was desperate to be held, to be touched, protected, sheltered and loved in the way she needed to be loved. She had lost everything, and she knew that there was no coming back from that. No coming back from losing your parents, dearest friend and home. But instead you change, change into something or someone else as a way of handling and living with your scars and grief – with wounds that may bind but never fully heal. And Willa had changed. She felt shy and little, afraid of everything but – but she was desperate, starving and yearning for that one thing which had been removed from her too many times. To belong. Not to a place, but to a person. To be held – to be cared for.

Her fingers went to her arm where Jasper had held her, where his fingers had curled around her arm, her back and her leg. She traced those spots, mimicked that ghost of a touch and even the prickle his cheek left on her lips from a kiss she so vulnerably gave. Some say that when you break, your heart hardens and closes – but with Willa, she knew that with her heart breaking it had been left wide opened and without protection or walls. This beating artery without ribs or bone to conceal it. She wondered if that was why she felt the way she did towards Jasper, wondered if she saw something within him that could be all she yearned for…or if just maybe her feelings and longing for something was mutual with the way he looked at her in return. That maybe the reason something so unspoken and intimate fused between their eyes was because they were both a day-dream to a need so buried and unanswered. An exlir to whatever made them bleed inwardly.

Willa turned towards her open window and looked out into the night. She looked out and thought she imagined seeing a figure in the trees but being tired she dismissed it and closed her eyes in a feeble attempt to capture sleep and dreams. But if she had looked a little harder, a little clearer past the leaves and branches, she may have seen Jasper there. For in the night as Willa lay awake, he sat there awake too. Forever awake. And now, wondering the same thing that Willa thought, that maybe, just maybe, she in her softness, could heal his hardened and tormented heart.

Dressed in a delicate dress, tights and uggs which tied together in the front with a bow – Willa made her way into history. Edward had not come to school yesterday, nor today as both Bella and she searched for him so. She couldn't help but wonder what had happened to him, if he was alright or if something tragic had wilted in his life. But from the appearances of his siblings, she couldn't tell.

Taking her normal seat in her History class, Willa found a single daisy upon her chair. She picked it up, cradled it between her two fingers as she brought it to her nose and let its petals brush against her. Its smell was sweet and wistful, dainty and beautiful. She felt a slight blush blossom on her cheeks as she raised her eyes discreetly and looked towards where Jasper sat at the other end of the room. His eyes met hers briefly as she looked at him with the daisy still raised. The petals teased her lips as she smiled shyly at him, as he tilted his head like a cautious solider towards her before adverting his attention back to the front of the room.

Sliding into her seat, Willa tucked the stem of the daisy into the hair tie that held the long braid draped over her solider. She got out her history book, and idly turned to the topic they were studying – the origins of the Russian Revolution, specifically Alexander II.

"Right." Their teacher spoke, coming into the class in a hurriedly way as if he were late. "Today we are going to be discussing the character and reasons for difference in comparison to the other Czars, of Alexander II. Now this is a discussion-based class so let me see," he took his coat and gloves off as he spoke, examining the empty desks and students who sat alone. "If ah, if Rose, could you please move to sit next to Marina and Jasper, ah yes – if you could move to sit next to Willa for this class. Now," her teachers voice faded into a hollow hush as Willa brought her nervous hands to her lap and straightened slightly in her chair.

She heard Jasper come towards her, heard him pull back the chair and take the seat beside her. Her fingers began to fidget with her hair, with the end of her braid and the daisy nestled in the tie. For despite the daisy that was now held there, despite the looks shared and the note given, Willa felt her timid nature consume her. She sat demure and afraid, afraid he would look at her and see the extent of her day dreams and thoughts of him. So, she kept her eyes down, kept them to her lap as she moved her hands to there and fiddled with the hem of her dress.

But as she was looking down, she saw another hand move into her line of vision. The hand was large and pale, porcelain and cracked with scars. They looked so young and yet old at the same time, so marred with history and brute strength – with what seemed like war and time. Willa held her breath as a finger that was not her own touched hers. It grazed her trembling knuckle, brushed the young and smooth surface of her finger before it hooked around the curve and lingered there, his thumb caressing the skin just below.

Fluttering her eyes, she looked up at Jasper. He had leaned forward in his seat, leaned towards her as his body acted as almost a shelter between her and the rest of the class. "Willa," he began. "Are you alright?" His voice held that Texan twang, held strength and concern as he whispered for her ears only.

"No." The word slipped out of her in one dulcet breath before she could gather herself. The truth was she wasn't alright, hadn't been in such a long while. But she did not mean to confess such a thing to the man sitting opposite her. "I," in panic she quickly removed her hands from his, brushing stray hairs behind her ear as her features soften in helplessness. "I'm sorry." She whispered as she tried to gather herself. "I, oh daisies I'm sorry…what was the question? The one we are meant to be discussing?"

Jasper examined her for a moment before responding, took in her demure eyes and the honest response that she did not mean to give and tucked it away for later ponder. "We were asked on what may be the importance of studying individuals in history rather than the events themselves, ma'am." Jasper replied, his tone so formal and yet he spoke with a gentleness that even he was not used to. It felt strange to him as he spoke, this new flavor and cradle wrapped around each of his words. He took her in as she settled herself into the question, her posture relaxing ever so slightly as she nibbled her lower lip and picked up a pencil to fiddle with.

"Without individuals, history in itself would be hollow." Willa said, her eyes on the pencil she held. "History is history only because of the individuals who crafted it, who lived and breathed and influenced such an era. Sometimes I think," she paused as she pondered, as she lifted her brown eyes and met his. "That when people study history, it is taught in a way where one is so focused on the event that they lose sight of the people who experienced it. It loses its humanity, it's soul in a way." She placed her free hand on her heart as she spoke, as she felt the words she thought rather than just spoke. "By studying individuals, it gives that – gives the story and past life rather than simply a tale of events. Gives it a heart, gives it blood."

Jasper watched as her confidence grew in a quiet yet ever-blooming way, watched as her eyes widened in endearment and she leaned forward ever so slightly as she spoke. "Sometimes, ma'am," Jasper began, his posture firm. "I think we are not isolated from the past. And some, are more connected to it than others may know."

"Like yourself?" Willa asked. It was such an innocent question, and yet it caught him off guard. Seeing the puzzlement in his eyes, Willa smiled softly and continued. "I like to think that we are all connected to the past, but with some more than others, it comes not from a state of being but rather one's mind. Their own thoughts and awareness of who and where they may have come from, where their land and the world they live within was crafted from. Do you think about such things often?" She asked, her curiosity a silent plea in her eyes.

"All the time." Jasper replied. His words were blunt and short, but the truth was that Jasper didn't have much experience talking to another outside his family. To talking to someone of her gentle ways.

Willa took in his words, her eyes soft as they pondered those three short words before her eyes fell to his forearms. They were covered under a navy jumper, white shirt cuffs and collar peeking out from its seams. "Where, where did your scars come from?" She wondered aloud, "if I may wonder?" She added.

"History." Jasper replied, his jaw tightening ever so slightly at the subject matter and militaristic nature of his voice.

But despite his hard exterior, Willa simply smiled gently. His hardness stroked something within her, blossomed softness in her eyes as if she wished to reach out one piece of her soul to his. "You don't talk a lot, do you?" She said with a sweet smile, her tone light and teasing.

"I ah…" It was Jasper's turn to advert his eyes, dropping them to where his hand lay on the desk and his fingers curled inwards. "I'm learning."

Willa's eyebrows furrowed as her gentle smile widened. "To talk?"

Jasper's lips twitched upwards at her words, the ghost of a smile teasing his lips as his eyes found hers once more. "To live openly." He said. "To live without scars." His words were tight as he spoke, restrained and uncertain. This was so new to him, too new. Not just conversing with a human, but with someone like her. For the first time he felt blind, and he wasn't sure if it unnerved or fascinated him. But as he looked into her eyes, as he took in her sweet smile and gentle voice, he couldn't help but think it the later. He had never seen something so darling in his entire life, and because of that – he was completely lost.

"Why would you want to live without scars?" Willa pondered, her eyes briefly slipping to his clothed forearms and to the exposed skin just above his collar. He was covered with them, Willa realised. Not just on his arms, but from what she could see on his neck, she thought it could be his entire form. His appearance, it seemed to scream dangerous and intimidation, militaristic. But Willa was not afraid.

"Why wouldn't you?" Jasper replied in a matter of fact manner.

"Because they make you beautiful." She spoke without dither. "Because I think that the most beautiful people, most beautiful hearts, souls and minds – they are often those who have been through the most pain. It's almost as if pain and those scars, they deepen you. Make your eyes flutter open to see the sensitive and gentle beauty within this world. To see and understanding the complexity of emotions. I think it's why artists tend to have the most tragic tales."

"And what is your tragic tale?" Jasper asked, analysing her in the way only a solider may.

Willa smiled softly, looking down timidly. "I'm afraid if you looked at my heart, they would look like the scars upon your body." Her eyes fluttered up, meeting his as he took her in. "Covered, but internally."

"They are battle scars." Jasper confessed, although he was not sure why. He pulled up one of his sleeves and lay it before her on the desk. He watched as Willa leaned forward, as her whole demure self softened and withered at the sight. She asked him if she could touch them, but he barely heard her or his own response. He just watched, watched as she leaned forward and ever so gently ran the soft pad of her fingertip across each one. It felt like a painter's brush, her finger. The way she was so careful and tender, so loving in this silent way to someone who was still a near-stranger.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, "I'm so sorry." As she spoke, Jasper could see tears bloom in her eyes, and as one fell it took more of him than he cared to admit to prevent himself from leaning forward and brushing it away.

Willa had never seen anything like it before, never felt such a painful and blood-soaked past upon her fingertip; Apart of her felt as if she should be afraid, but she wasn't. Her heart broke for him, bleed inwardly at his pain so raw upon his flesh. Taking her finger away from his arm and watching him pull down his sleeve, a small idea stroked Willa's mind.

"Jasper, do you….do you read?" She pondered.

"I do." He replied. His two words firm and yet cautious.

Willa's eyes brightened at his response. "I have a little idea." She began. "I have a little idea. Since you are still learning what you wish to learn, and I well…would you may be like to exchange books? Give each other a book that has some piece of us in it that the other as the reader, may find and discover through that tale? Symbolism through storytelling, but of one another?" Willa nibbled her lower lip as she waited for Jasper's response, as he thought it over in his mind. She could see him ticking it over, see him ponder as if he was about to say no. "I'm sorry, that was a silly-"

"No." Jasper said, "it's not silly." For the first time his voice seemed to soften a little more. "I would love too, Miss Willa."

His words made Willa's pretty face light up as she smiled so brightly. "Friday then." She said, biting her lower lip once more as she smiled to contain her glee. Friday was when they would next have class together – first PE and then World History.

"Friday." Jasper replied, giving her the tiniest of smiles before they were called back to focus their attention on their teacher.

Two days had slipped by until Friday woke and cloaked the sun in fog once more. Two days and still no Edward, two days since Willa's conversation with Jasper. She held her book to her chest as she walked to PE, her fingers strumming against its hardcover. The book she held was the one she was to give Jasper today, one that if he read between the lines would see with a lens into the hidden parts of her. She felt a little thrill at the idea of exchanging books, a romanticism about the idea that seemed to make her cheeks blush in day-dream. For through the darkness, she had this one little light to cling to, and through literature and a shared-love, it was a light she cradled.

With Edward not being here for the rest of the week, she felt guilty for not asking Jasper during her previous class about what had happened to him, for both Edward and Bella's sakes. But as she watched Bella settled into Forks, she wondered if maybe keeping Edward quiet was a better idea. She seemed to relax when he didn't show.

Entering into the locker room, she placed her bag and book down before changing into a white t-shirt and matching shorts, her trainers a matching color except for the pastel pink shoelaces.

"Hey Willa," Josephine chimed, taking a seat next to her in the changing room and began to tie her shoe. "Ready for the first class of self-defense?"

"Oh daisies, as ready as I'll ever be." She said shyly, sitting down next to Josie. "How about you?"

"Eh, I think it'll be alright. I like the idea of it more than the practice of it. I'd love to be able to be a master at fighting, but in reality, I think I'll hurt myself more than my opponent." Willa giggled as Josie scrunched up her face in embarrassment. "Have you ever done anything like this before?"

"No, I'm afraid." Willa confessed sheepishly. "I think if someone grabbed me, I may freeze with fear and forget all I'm supposed to do." She covered her face with her hands, tilting it to the side in playful bashfulness.

"Well, hopefully we'll be paired together, then it may not be so embarrassing." Josie laughed, standing with Willa following her lead.

Once entering the gym, they stood together against one of the far walls, watching and talking about idle things as the other students came in. When Jasper did, he spared a brief little glance at Willa, but then hid his eyes as he walked to the opposite end of the gym as if to avoid her, or perhaps others seeing them interact.

"Here we go." Josie whispered in Willa's ear, gesturing towards where Coach Clapp entered holding a clipboard and a red whistle around his neck.

"Alright, gather around, gather around." He beckoned. "Today is the start of our new topic of self-defense. With the world becoming a much more dangerous place, especially with a few attacks happening here lately, we see fit to give you this practice and education. Now, I'm going to put you into pairs and in those pairs, you will practice getting out of a few holds and positions that I will demonstrate at the front. So, listen up for your names and then head over to one of the free mats laid out." Willa nibbled her nails as the names were called out, as Josie got paired with another and she was left to stand in awkward patience and waiting. "Willa Fawn and Lincon Blaze." Willa's brown eyes fluttered up at the sound of her name, up and to the boy she was to be paired with.

As she made her way to the mat, she felt herself grow smaller at the swagger of Lincon and arrogant pinch to his smile. He was one of those boys who craved attention she realised, and who seemed to capture it easily. He was athletic and handsome, confident and bold – and he seemed to know it too. His ego dripped off him as he approached Willa who was waiting at their mat and gave her a head tilt that made her stumble in how to respond.

"Alright, now that everyone is paired up – boys, I want you to follow my instructions and grab your partner from behind by wrapping an arm around their shoulders and pulling their backs to your chest like so." He demonstrated with another student, and before Willa could gather herself she felt a heavy arm wrap around her and pull her back to their chest. She grew nervous at the hold, felt her heart stutter and her cheeks flush in anxiety. The grip was firm and strong, too strong as she nibbled her lower lip and her eyes crumbled into uncertainty.

"There, there Miss Fawn." Lincon teased her ear as he sensed her nervousness, his rough lips brushing her earlobe. "Don't worry, I'll go easy on you." Yet something about how he spoke made Willa think it was all just a game. Back before her life had crumbled she would have thrown back a witty comment, said something with her own confidence that would have caught him off guard and made him swallow his pride. But now, she had nothing.

"Now girls, I want you to grasp your partners forearm like so, and using the curve of your back and this footwork combination, I want you to flip them onto the mat and pin them there in this manner. Right, now how about you all give it a try."

Taking a little breath and trying to ignore the unwanted heat on her neck from Lincon's breathing, she brushed her fingertips against his forearm and curled her fingers around it.

"My, my – a touch as gentle as yours, you're getting my imagination all going new girl." Willa winced at the brashness of his voice against her ear, at the unwanted intimacy and suggestion. She closed her eyes, tightening her grip on his forearm as she bent forward and tried to flip him onto the mat. But as she tried, she felt a chuckle from Lincon behind, felt it grow as he watched her struggle and try. "Go on Willa try again, I think those little whimpers of yours are turning me on."

"Please stop." She whispered shy, "please."

"Oh why?" Lincon teased, his free hand crazing her upper leg. "It's all a part of the fun and practice little Willa." His hand rose higher towards her rear as he spoke, as he leaned into her a little too close. "Got to make it realistic for you."

"Please stop." Willa said, her voice so quiet and feeble that it embarrassed her how weak she had become. "Please."

"How about"- Before he could finish his sentence, Willa felt Lincon ripped off from her, the force pulling her back with him and making her stumble. She heard him grunt, heard him yell and crash loud against the hard gym floor. And as she turned around, her hair flurrying with her in surprise – her eyes widened at what she saw. The whole gym had gone quiet as Jasper Hale stood over Lincon, his foot pressed against his chest as he pinned him there. His hair was messy as it lay over his eyes, his face suddenly lost any grain of the gentleman Willa had seen. He looked dangerous, looked violent and like he had seen so much war and blood that even he contributed too. His scars and the expression on his face, his stance and posture – it made him look like a warrior and as he turned his gaze to Willa, as his eyes bore into her soft ones – his description of battle scars suddenly made perfect sense.

"Are you alright?" He asked her, softening his eyes a little as he took in her shivering form and how her arms wove around her in self-protection. Yet his eyes and his voice did not waiver. His words were clear and strong, commanding and threatening. He looked like a solider, and in that moment, Jasper felt like one. He felt his military training consume him in that moment, felt the Major grasp his soul and squeeze.

As he looked to Willa, his foot pressed against the boy with a little more pressure – he awaited his answer, awaited his command. For as he looked at her, in that blur of emotion, he saw Maria. He waited for her to tell him to dispose of him, to unleash himself upon the boy and obey her command with a kiss of lust and control to follow. He waited like a pawn because he knew no different.

But Willa did not answer like Maria, did not smile a twisted curl or lean in to kiss his lips with a command and promise for more afterwards. Instead she walked towards him, walked with dainty steps and looked up at him with gentle eyes. He felt her fingers rest on his forearm, felt her thumb caress his skin and exposed scars there as her eyes seemed to melt something within in.

"I'm alright." She whispered for his ears only, a reassuring smile that seemed to bloom like a flower in spring painting her lips like peonies. "I'm alright," she repeated, her voice filled with honey and lullabies as he slowly removed his foot from the boy. He knew the commotion he had caused, could feel everyone's shock and horror as they saw what he had done. But he cast indifference into them, manipulated their emotions to stifle anything would leave them thinking of this moment a minute longer. He felt the room settle, felt Lincon get to his feet with a shrug and move on to find another partner for the lesson who was also equally unfazed. He could feel everyone's emotions but hers, everyone's horror turns into indifference but her. But Willa showed no horror, not even fear.

She took him in with her eyes as if she understood something, as if she wished to cradle him softly and chase away his scars and haunted past. Because she did. She didn't know specifically, but she didn't need too. Because she silently understood the trauma and violence he must have gone through, the pain that only a rare soul could seem to survive.

She swallowed as she raised a hand and cradled his face, going on her tiptoes so she may reach in an easy way. Her thumb slipped behind his ear as she held him, as her other hand brushed away his hair from his eyes and she held him with such gentle tenderness. She didn't know what to say, and from the way he seemed to relax – she realised she didn't have to say a single thing. He stood looking down at her, and her up at him – his hands at his side as he experienced one of the most unfamiliar sensations he had ever felt.

"Can you, may you – teach me?" She eventually asked him. Her voice so fragile as she spoke that he couldn't help but smile at her innocence.

He tilted his head as her hands fell and she lowered back to the palms of her feet. "Of course." He said, and held his arm out for her to take the lead and walk to a new mat. She took her shoes and socks off as she stood upon it and looked up at Jasper. "Thank you." She told him.

"Of course." He repeated those two words. He didn't know what to say, didn't know how to act at her reaction and the lack of vindictiveness in her eyes. Maria had taught him, moulded him that affection was paired with control and a lust for violence. He was Maria's puppet, and through that he became a Major both in war and in love. She had turned him into a weapon, a weapon she used and wielded – but with what had just happened, something within him had titled. Willa had not controlled him, did not wield the weapon that he was for her twisted satisfaction. He was still a weapon, but he was in control of himself. And somehow, for some unknown reason – that made him feel so much more dangerous. So much more protective.

As Willa stood and waited for Jasper to take the lead, he couldn't help but bow his head and hold his hands behind his back in stiffness and yet curiosity. "Ma'am, if I may inquire. Are you not curious? Curious about what just happened?"

"Of course I am honey eyes." Jasper noted the nickname she had given him. "But it is not my place to unravel those curiosities. Those are yours, and if in time I may be so blessed to know – it'll be by your choice rather than mine." He let her words seep into his heart as she spoke, touch something that had not been touched in a very long time if ever.

"Have you ever fought before?" He found himself asking.

"No." She replied with a shy smile. "I'm afraid fighting and violence scares me so. If something ever happened, I'd run away. Even if that does make me sound like a little coward." She blushed at her words, fluttering her eyes to the side as she spoke.

"It doesn't make you a coward." Jasper replied. "It makes you smart. Running is the best form of response if you're not equipped or willing to fight back." His spoke with experience.

"I'm afraid I don't think I am the fighting sort. It's not natural to me as oh daises, I even run away from buzzing flies." Jasper released a puff of laugher at her comment and arched an eyebrow. "I don't know I…" Her voice trailed as she thought. "That world frightens me, being a part of violence and things so harsh. I'll care for those who have been through such, but causing it – I don't think I ever could." She smiled softly as she spoke, as she revealed a small part of herself to him. "When I was young, I used to get teased for being little, for being away with fairytales and art rather than being loud and able to defend myself. I was labeled shy and when you're young, I think the word 'shy' to others means you don't have a personality or strength. That you, in your quiet and gentle nature, are hollow." She adverted her eyes as she spoke, as she smiled softly in remembrance. "I used to fret that maybe there was something wrong with me so, but the little thing was – is that I just found beauty and peace in different things. In my stories and art, in dance and music, nature and a cottage life." Her eyes returned to his, a blush blossoming on her cheeks. "Oh daisies I'm sorry, my voice has run away with me so." But something about how she talked made Jasper think it was rare moments where she could talk about herself rather than caring for others. "You must think that makes me sound so weak and silly. I'm afraid I'm a rather anxious little mouse sometimes."

"Not at all," Jasper replied, his hands still knotted behind his back as he listened. "I think, you are strong in your own way. In your ability to see the beauty in others, to care and to love. To create art." He gestured down to her paint covered hands which made her blush grow as if she had just been caught doing something she shouldn't. "To be gentle and fragile, to be kind and soft – that is strength within this…" He paused as he searched for the right word, his face tightening in a grimace and betrayal. "In this incredibly hard and brutal world." He took a step forward, untying his hands from behind and opening up his body to her a little more. He couldn't remember the last time he had spoken this much outside the busy thoughts and ponders in his mind, but just like her blooming talkative too – something cracked open within him. "You say you are anxious, but anxiousness in its best form is simply that you care. You care deeply. From what I know of emotions, anxiousness makes you compassionate and empathetic, makes you love deeper than most may ever know to receive or give. Although it is a challenge, it is also a gift. To be sensitive, it's beauty."

For the rest of the class, Jasper and Willa talked as he instructed her lightly on a few self-defense movements, his fingers light on her skin just as hers was his. But after a few tries, self-defense was forgotten and they fell into deep conversation. Jasper kept the others feeling indifferent towards them, kept them in a cloak of their own shared and vulnerable hues as they talked of books and art, of memories and wishes. It was just the beginning, but it was something – something which planted a seed in both and began to water with the others intimate confessions.

When class finished, when they parted ways with that silent longing for more time. Willa met Bella in the food court and sat with her and her friends. The conversation centered mostly around a trip to the La Push Ocean Park in two weeks which Mike was putting together. He had invited both Bella and Willa, and Bella had agreed on their behalf. Willa was glad to see Bella settle in, to see her no longer be worried about Edward. But she could see that although Bella tried not to think of him, she couldn't totally suppress the worry that she was responsible for his continued absence.

Willa watched as Bella peeked at the Cullens table, as her eyes lingered on that one empty chair before she went back to talking with her new friends and then repeating that same peek. Willa moved a little closer to her cousin seeing this, placing her hand on hers under the table and giving it a gentle squeeze in comfort. She truly did need to ask Jasper about what happened to Edward.

"I couldn't imagine any door that wouldn't be open by that degree of beauty." Bella said as the conversation turned to the Cullens. "I think their isolation must be their desire." And as Bella spoke, as Willa took her turn to peek at their table, a part of her couldn't help agree. Jasper was the most private person she has ever met, for even she seemed to be a secret of his, but he – at the same time, was hers. Although she couldn't help but wonder how come no one said anything about what happened in PE. It bewildered her, puzzled her that it made her grow quieter over lunch as day dreams spun. But each time she did, her ponders seemed to tumble into the contents of his words – into him rather than those that surrounded.

As last period approach of World History, Jasper sat next to Willa without a world. Neither of them talked during class, yet they didn't need too. Their presence was enough, enough to calm and enough to silently talk through little movements and peeking glances.

As the final bell rang for the end of class and the end of her first week, Jasper placed a book onto her notes and following his lead, Willa did his. Their chosen books, their hearts hidden through literature.

Once at home and tucked away in her room after dinner and some television with Charlie and Bella, Willa pulled out the book and fluttered her eyes in surprise as a piece of paper fell out from its pages. She bent down and picked it up carefully, sitting on her bed by the open window with her knees raised to her chest and dressed in her sweet nightdress. Opening it, taking in the swirls of his writing – she began to read what Jasper had written:

Dearest Willa,

"Do not be hardened by the pain and cruelty of this world. Be strong enough to be gentle, to be soft and supple like running water, gracefully bending around sudden turns, lithely waving in strong winds, freely flowing over sharp rocks, all the while quietly sculpting this hard world into ever deeper beauty, gently eroding rigid rock into silken sand, tenderly transforming human cruelty into human kindness. Remember, true strength is not found in the stone, but in the water that shapes the stone."

― L.R. Knost

Yours, Jasper

Thank you so much for reading sweet readers! I'd love to know what you think and if you have any ideas on which books they exchanged too! Much love, Elodie