Authors Note: Hi sweetest and most beautiful readers, I wish to thank you all with every flutter of my heart for your darling reviews, follows and favorites! When I see them so, oh they light up my eyes and whole day so! I thank you so deeply and would love to hear what you think of this chapter as I can be a little bit shy and all tumbling into anxiety with my writing so! It's a bit of a long one but I hope that may alright so! I hope and wish upon every star that you are all having a beautiful new year so far, and that the stars of hope may nestle in your eyes and guide your forward into the new year with such dreams and wishes coming true! Sending you all my love, and I hope you enjoy it so! Much love, Elodie.
As Willa slept that night, she slept a sleep that was sweeter than she had experienced in such a while. She let the memories of Jasper whisper in her ear as she lay curled by the window, let his voice hum that distant hush in echo and remembrance. His letter was nestled in her palm as she slumbered, the words he wrote seeming to seep into her – to knock against the crust of her pitter pattering heart and lay down within. The book he had given her was named Dracula, and already her notebook – even her skin, was stained with the black swirl of ink of quotes she wrote down.
"I am all in a sea of wonders. I doubt; I fear; I think strange things, which I dare not to confess to my own soul."
Those words swirled around her wrist as she pondered them so, as she looked between each word, each letter and plucked them up like puzzle pieces. She had fallen asleep reading it, the book laying heavy upon her as she slept and then woke with both letter and book teasing her pale skin. It was Saturday, and despite the plans to spend it with Bella, she couldn't help but prolong those moments where her family thought she was still in slumber.
She stayed quiet in her room, quiet and consumed as she read his book and looked out the window into the fog and rainy hues.
"I want you to believe…to believe in things you cannot."
She read with a paintbrush tucked behind her ear, with pink paint smeared upon her cheek as she gave up on writing upon parchment and her skin and decided on the walls. She painted those words, painted them around the frame of the ceiling and in-between the flowers that were already there.
"Loneliness will sit over our roofs with brooding wings."
She painted those words as if they were the stem of a rose, the words twining and curving as their meaning twined and curved in her. And the more she painted, the more she began to understand his soul in such gentle subtleness. In such depth and silent ache.
"Oh, the terrible struggle that I have had against sleep so often of late; the pain of the sleeplessness, or the pain of the fear of sleep, and with such unknown horror as it as for me! How blessed are some people, whose lives have no fears, no dreads; to whom sleep is a blessing that comes nightly, and brings nothing but sweet dreams."
Her heart ached and tears teased the rim of her eyes as she fell deeper into his book. She felt overcome with emotion, overcome with compassion and empathy as she read in-between the lines and formed a new yearning to just hold him. She could feel his loneliness, feel his self-hatred and pain – his difference. For he was, he was different. Different in a way that Willa knew would be something that would challenge the truth of fairytales and rewrite both folklore and myth.
"It seemed as if the whole, awful creature were simply gorged with blood, he lay like a filthy leech, exhausted with his repletion."
She lay back on her bed, the book opened on her chest as she breathed softly – looking out the window into the waking word. She wasn't sure how long she lay there, but she knew it was probably longer than she should have. She could hear the steps of her cousin and uncle outside her room, hear the plates and morning sounds of a Saturday. And yet she couldn't bring herself to move, to stop thinking of him and the quotes she had painted and written.
"There are vampires. They are real, they are of our time, and they are here, close by, stalking us as we sleep..." She spoke the last quote she read into the air, squinting her soft eyes as she imagined someone to be sitting in the trees watching her. "Who are you, honey eyes?" She whispered to herself, "who are you, sweet enigma?"
The weekend came and passed draped in gentle ponder and soft venture. And when it came to an end through Monday's sunrise – Willa couldn't help but feel glimmered with hope. She woke with a soft flutter of her eyes, and as they cleared and came to the waking world, she released a small sound at what she saw. Little white flurries fell from the sky.
Getting up, she opened her window and leaned out of it – her little feet resting on the windowsill as she crouched and reached out her hand to catch the snow. She smiled as she caught them, as she brought her cupped hand towards her and looked with wide dreamers' eyes at the snow she held. She had only seen it a few times, and each time she did – she felt as if the world became dusted with fairytales. As if snow, in its sweet enchantment, was a gift sent from the dreamer's dreams, painting the world in hues of white glitter and softness as it put to rest nature's green.
"Willa!" Willa jumped at the sound of her name, turning with wide eyes as she stumbled a little and grasped the edge of the window. "What are you doing?" Bella asked, rushing inside her room and holding onto Willa's arm to steady her. "You'll fall or catch a cold or…" She shook her head in disapproval, pulling Willa back inside until they both sat on her bed.
"Oh but it's snow Bells!" Willa exclaimed with a smile, looking away from her cousin and back to her open window. "The dust of fairytales." And to her romantic eyes, it was.
"Ew." Bella scrunched her nose as she looked at it and shivered to emphasise her point.
"Ew?" Willa asked, turning back with her faced pulled into a puzzle.
"Snow means it's too cold for rain. Besides, I thought it was supposed to come down in flakes – you know, each one unique and all that. These just look like the ends of Q-tips." Willa shook her head at Bella's words, cupping her face gently.
"I think your eyes must be a little blurry from your sleep. Here," She lowered her hands and took one of Bella's. "Come with me." And before Bella could protest, Willa guided her out the door, down the stairs and outside.
Bella protested all the way down and all the way out the door, but she couldn't bring herself to dampen Willa's enrapture. She let go of Willa's hand once they reached outside, hovering in the doorway as she watched her run out into the snow and stretch out her arms. She was barefoot and dressed in nothing but a sweet white tulle nightdress, her head falling back as she spun in circles and let the snow kiss her skin. "Isn't it magic?" Willa asked, stopping her spins as she looked up at Bella.
"I think you and I have very different definitions on what is magical." Bella huffed, taking a retreating step back inside. But Willa was too lost in the snow to hear her, as she traced a heart in the snow with her barefoot and bent down to cup it in her hands.
"It's like the world has turned into a snow globe." Willa mused. "Like reality has cracked open and let all forgotten wishes tumble loose upon us." Kneeling down into the snow, she let her knees sink into it – the coolness brushing over her skin like the brushstroke of a lover's hand washing her anew. She loved the cold, loved the touch of it and even that sweet nip and bite. It was renewing to her, cleansing and ethereal. "When I was little, my mama and I used to make up stories." She drew in the snow with her fingertip as she spoke. "Stories of worlds upon each snowflake, of little mice gathering it and storing it for winter treats. Even falling in love with its maker Jack Frost." She smiled in memory, smiled faraway. "It makes my imagination twirl."
"Twirl huh?" Willa looked up to see Charlie standing behind Bella – looking equally as uncomfortable in the snow as her cousin. "That sounds familiar." He confessed, "Flora used to tell me those stories too. When we were kids she would drag me out of bed each time it was snowing to make snow angels and make up stories about the snowflakes." His eyes deepened as he took in Willa and how she so closely resembled his passed sister. But a twinkle shone in Willa's eyes at the mention of her mother, and slowly – she walked towards Charlie, tip-toeing up the steps until she stood right in front of him.
"Those memories aren't over." She whispered, threading her fingers with his and taking his hand. She led him out to a patch of snow, and still holding his hand she fell backwards into it. Out of habit, he fell with her, lying beside her as he watched her make a snow angel. Charlie spread his arms out and copied her. But neither of them smiled, neither of them spoke as they looked at one another in that moment. For as they lay there, as they made two snow angels – it wasn't just for amusement, but it was for Flora's name. For her remembrance, like when one brought flowers to a grave.
Willa felt droplets prickle her eyes from within, feel her heart leak in that tear form. But she bit her lip and hid them so. Brushing her thumb over Charlie's hand, she gave him a smile of memory, of hope – and began. "Once upon a time, in-between the snow flurries and rain droplets, sat a girl with a bundle of wishes."
After the snow and stories, after breakfast and hot coco – Willa snuck away into her room and sat upon the windowsill once more. She had 10 minutes before she and Bella were to travel to school, and yet she spent eight of those sitting in day-dreams. Her back was pressed against the window-frame, her toes grazing its rim as she held her knees to her chest and let her cheek rest upon her knees. She thought of her parents, of Charlie and the snow. Thought of all lost and found, all within and without. Of Jasper.
When those little moments of alone and dwelling dissolved and passed, she nimbly got up and dressed in white tights and a short grey pleated skirt. Her top was white with a soft lace collar, and to keep herself lost in cozy she wore a chunky pastel pink cardigan. Seeing time slip by too quickly, she left her hair long and wavy as she plucked up the strap of her backpack and hurried down the stairs.
"I'm sorry." She said with a little huff as she reached the end of the stairs. Bella stood with her arms crossed, impatience moulding her stance as she waited.
"Ready?" Bella asked, checking her watch to make sure they still had enough time.
"Yes, all ready." Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment at her lateness, with slight guilt as she followed Bella outside and placed on her cream mittens.
As they walked down the steps, Willa noticed Charlie leaning against the red truck. His face was pulled into a faraway concern – as if something troubled him that he felt hesitant to share. Parting her lips to wonder aloud, Willa was about to ask when Bella suddenly slipped on the ice and fell with a soft thump.
"Oh Bells." Willa winced, hurrying to her cousins' side and weaving her arm around her. "Are you alright?"
"Yea." Bella replied as Willa helped her to her feet. "Ice doesn't really help the uncoordinated."
"Here," Willa took Bella's bag from her. "Let me." She placed in on her other shoulder before walking towards the truck and placing both inside.
"That's why I had some new tiers put on the truck." Charlie commented, "The old ones were looking pretty bald. We'll I'll probably be late home for dinner, girls. I got to head down to Mason County. A security guard at the Grisham Mill got killed by some sort of animal."
"An animal?" Bella asked in surprise, looking to Willa who's face seemed to wither in distress at the news.
"You're not in Phoenix anymore Bells. Anyways, I thought I would lend a hand." Charlie said stiffly.
"What kind of animal do they think it may be?" Willa asked, weaving her arms around her as she thought and imagined of what may have happened – her heart giving that ache of empathy for both human and animal.
"Not sure. Maybe a bear? I'll have to take a look first and see if there are any traces we can track." Charlie eyed Willa with hesitance as he spoke, eyed her with caution as her mind ticked away in the only way hers may.
"Maybe I could help." Willa began, and Charlie suspecting this groaned inwardly. "I know a little thing or two about animals, about tracking them and how they live and breathe, their natural tendencies. Maybe I could come after school and-"
"Absolutely not." Charlie snapped, startling himself at how stern his tone was. He sighed, sighed at how he spoke and the flinch Willa gave. "I'm sorry." Charlie covered quickly. "I'm sorry, I…I know how you are with animals, how they are with you but – I can't risk it." And the truth was he couldn't. He knew Willa's love for them, knew her sensitivity and affinity to them. She seemed to understand them with such rarity, just as they seemed to understand her. But no matter how soft her eyes pleaded with him, no matter her curious and mutual ability to understand animals, he couldn't risk it, could not risk her. "I ah, I better get going. Don't take any detours whilst at school and coming home, alright?"
"Will you be alright thought?" Willa asked, taking a few steps forward as worry painted her features.
"I always am." He replied with a tight smile, and yet Willa took another step forward.
"I don't think that's true." Her voice a near whisper, and Charlie hating that she was right, did not look at her.
"I'll see you soon." With a small wave to both Bella and Willa, Charlie left them without another look – and Willa couldn't help but stop herself from going after him and coax out his inner struggle. Looking back at Bella who shrugged in her not understanding – she opened the door and hopped in the truck, Willa following as they drove off to school.
It was lunch time when she left, when she slipped past the cafeteria and made her way up into the woods. She knew she shouldn't, but with the snow and her ponders, with the woods and what may lay within – she couldn't resist that singing lure. Walking with lithe little steps, she made her way up quickly. But once she reached its brim, reached those first trees and peeked through at what enchantments it hid, she slowed her pace and snuck inside.
Willa walked over fallen trees and over ice-crusted leaves, strolled deep inside as her fingertips brushed the pealing bark of trees and her shoes crunched against the frosted earth. Seeing a small cluster of flowers nestled around the trunk of a tree, she crouched down and blew the snow which weighed their petals down. The flowers seemed to quiver as they stood there, as they moved to and fro to the gentle rhythm of the breeze. Caressing their soft petals, Willa plucked one and held it in-between her fingertips. She had always loved flowers, loved their soft innocence and beauty – and as she held one now, it felt as if that sweet beauty and innocence seemed to seep into her, a soft elixir to any worry or fear. She sometimes wondered if more could be cured with flowers, if an upset heart or lonely soul could be softened by that gentle sight of nature's bloom.
Picking a few more into a little self-made bouquet for Bella or someone, she continued to stroll through the forest until she met a frozen over lake. She smiled softly at its intricate structure, at the cool blueness with those tangled patterns within. Pressing the toe of her boot to the ice, Willa tested out its structure. But the moment she rested her full weight to it, she heard a crack and stumbled back in fright into another's chest.
A stranger's hand wove around her waist as she fell in clumsy, caught her before she could touch the ground and held her up in their arms. With her small hands grazing the man's chest, with his holding her tight to him – Willa looked up at the man who held her.
"Jasper." His name escaped her in a whisper as she gazed up at him in fluster, her flowers tumbling to the snow.
"You should be careful." Jasper said, his tone stiff and matter of fact. "One more step and you could have drowned."
"I'm sorry." She replied, her voice still slightly dazed in lightness at seeing him here. "What," she licked her lower lip as she gathered herself. "What may you be doing here?" Her question was soft, soft and threaded by simple curiosity.
Jasper's jaw tightened, strained as did his expression. "I had to get away."
"Get away from what?" Willa queried, still burrowed in his arms.
"What are you doing out here?" He asked instead of answering, his tone intimidating as he spoke.
"Coming home." She answered in a small voice, trying not to weaken at his military grasp upon her, or the discard of her question.
"Coming home?" He asked her puzzled. "Forests are a dangerous place, ma'am. You never know what monsters could be lurking within them." Monsters like him, he thought.
"Oh but, I'm not afraid." Willa said softly, her doe eyes wide and sweet at his concern.
"No?" He prompted, running his eyes over her pretty face in wonder. How could such a fragile thing be so unafraid?
"No." She repeated in a hushed little voice. "And besides, now I have you as my protector." A small smile brushed her lips upwards, painted them in pink peony as she cheeks blushed in the cold. Jasper's hands seemed to tighten around her small frame at the word protector, at her giving him that rank over her so willingly. Willa could feel her chest press against his as he held her firmer, as he brought her against the strength of his dangerous form. And yet all Willa found within it was safety, as if all intimidation seemed to melt away and flower in comfort. "What are you wishing to get away from?" She asked again.
"People." He stated. "Family." His eyes darkened, he shouldn't have said that. "I needed to be alone." He recovered. "To get away from the loudness of everyone's emotions, from judgement and observing eyes." He felt Willa's fingertips caress his upper arm as he spoke, felt her patience and softness trickle into him. "It's suffocating."
"I, I'm sorry." Willa said, "would you like me to maybe leave you?"
"No." He responded quickly, too quickly that Willa noticed that one note of panic if she left. "No." He repeated calmer. "I can be alone with you." And it was true. She seemed to be that one little possible impossibility, that one tender brushstroke within his world. He couldn't feel her emotions, Edward couldn't read her and Alice couldn't see her. She was a puzzle and yet a comfort, an escape and for some strange reason – a coming home. A peacefulness.
"Would you maybe like to go for a walk with me?" She asked him shyly, feeling so small in his arms. She blinked away the snow flurries from her eyes and she looked up at him, as she trembled in his arms.
"You're shaking." He noted.
"I'm cold." She whispered, and felt Jasper hold her a little closer at her fragility. But it was only for a moment, a moment before he released her and took off his coat. Willa shivered at the absence of his touch, wrapping her arms around herself. Yet it was not more than a couple bird whistles before he walked towards her with cautious steps and draped his coat over her shoulders.
"It would be a pleasure." He said, his arms stiff behind his back as Willa adjudged his coat around her. "To go for a walk with you." Gesturing with his chin to the forest behind her, "since this is your home, little darlin – I shall follow you." The nickname made Willa's heart pitter patter, made her blush and smile as Jasper leaned down and gathered her flowers before handing them to her.
"Thank you." She smiled softly, his fingertips brushing hers as he gave the flowers to her. "I finished reading your book." She began as they started walking, the smell of parchment and pine, of maple and oak teasing her nose from his coat. "It's a funny little thing because after reading it, I…" She stepped up onto a fallen tree trunk, matching his height as she walked along it. "It's like a piece of your soul has nestled next to my heart." She didn't look at him as she spoke, as she took little steps in-between his long strides. "It's as if reading those words, those words that even lay underneath ink and parchment – they seemed to seep some part of you into me and when I look at you now," she jumped lightly off the fallen trunk, stopped in front of him as she walked backwards and kept her eyes up upon him. "I can't seem to think of you as a stranger anymore." She stopped in her strides, feeling her nervousness rise up within her and her hand tremble against the flowers she held. "I," she looked away, brushing her hair behind her ear. "I am unsure how to-"
"It's alright." Jasper said, his tone softer than both of them were used to. "Books have a way of doing that. They, if exchanged in such a way, if read with sensitivity – it creates an unspoken intimacy of souls."
"I have so many questions." Willa whispered, "so many quotes I wrote down that seem to have my mind all dizzy with wonder. I thought this may be a subtle way to know one another but oh daisies, it's tumbled into the opposite." She rose her free hand and placed it against where her heart lay. "I feel as if by reading your book, you have opened a door to my heart and curled inside to suddenly."
Jasper swallowed at her vulnerability, at the way she spoke and expressed herself. He felt the same way about her, the same way after reading her book which is why he couldn't help but follow her here. Yes, he wanted to get away – but he wanted to get away to her.
"Ask me a question." He asked bluntly. "Ask and I'll answer."
"Are you lonely?" Willa asked without pause.
"Terribly." He replied without dither.
"Why?" She asked him softly, so softly that Jasper felt apart of him unravel at his seams.
"Because I've lost everything. Because I've lost even myself. And nobody knows it." He looked down, looked down to his forearms and what lay beneath. "Because I'm different. The way I see and feel, how I live and think. Because of what I've been through and no one, no one would understand."
"Oh honey," her voice wilted and she placed her free hand upon his forearm, "what about your family?"
"I love my family." He said stiffly and met her eyes. "But they do not know me." He paused as he contemplated his next words, how to phrase them without revealing too much. "I am on the fringe of my adoptive family. Because of who I am, because of my upbringing before them. They are…" he trailed off, frustration pressing against the surface of his eyes as that honey turned to a suffering ember. "They are over-protective. Always watching me. Always reading my-" my mind. Yet he didn't say those last two words aloud. He couldn't. Yet with Willa, Edward could read no thoughts about her, no thoughts blossomed by her. He was free, free and alone at last in his sanity. He clenched his jaw and suppressed his irritation, buried it deep and in the dark.
For he hated it, hated Edward constantly in his head, hated them watching him. He had contemplated leaving several times, but he couldn't. Couldn't for he loved them after all, and being with them – in some strange way let him feel some relief from the pain of his victims' emotions, a little hush on their never-ending screams and agony which forever echoed within him. "Are you lonely Willa?" He asked before she could part her sweet peony lips in either comfort or another question. He didn't deserve her comfort, didn't deserve any of it.
"Terribly." She replied gently, knowing not to push him. Lowering her hand from his arm, they continued to walk side by side.
"What happened to you?" He asked, lifting up a branch for her to step under and then him follow.
"Like you, I've lost everything." She began softly, "I lost my papa when I was just a little thing. He drowned." Her eyes met his with sorrow, sorrow that quivered upon the surface so thinly but was not released. "I lost my mama a few months ago to illness, my best friend and all the homes I lived in." She looked away, looked towards the trees and daisies as she walked quiet and nimbly. "I grew up as a traveler, always moving and wandering. And whilst such a life may be painted in beauty, there is always a darkened drape which cracks your heart broken and lost. For as a traveler, you're an outsider."
She fiddled with the stems of the flowers as she held, fiddled with them as she then met his eyes once more and smiled the smile of a helpless girl. "Constantly losing everything, everyone and everywhere…I've never known where I fit. If I fit but," she took in a dulcet breath. "But I suppose out of every little thing, I'm lonely because I've lost everything and belong nowhere. Because no know truly knows me, understands or sees me. Not just because of losing my parents or homes but…because of who I am. Like you spoke," she continued softly as they walked, "with the way you said before – with how you see and feel things, the way you think and what you've been through. All you've lost. You're different, and so, you're alone. Terribly so." And the word held so much pain as she spoke it...terribly. "Because no one knows you and no one could understand or even want to. Not really." She looked up at him with helpless eyes, and Jasper stopped walking then.
"I understand." Jasper told her, and with how he said it, with how he looked at her – she knew he did. Just as Jasper knew, after a century of depression and torture on his broken soul, that she understands a part of him. That maybe she could understand more if he let her in. For the first time, Jasper felt hope and Willa in her sweet innocence, felt it too. "We should walk back." Jasper suggested after a few moments of silence. "But, if I may," his southern gentleman manners guiding him. "Would you like to meet me tonight? There are some stables, located at the edge of the forest by the village bookstore which may be nice." His voice tightened at the end, for he hadn't ask a girl out in such a way since he was 19 and human.
But Willa, ignoring the tightness in his voice smiled gently at him, her cheeks blushing a soft pink in her demureness. "That may be a dream." She said with a shy and sweet smile, a smile that made Jasper's lips soften and brush upwards.
They walked back to the edge of the forest lost in conversation, lost in each other and all that lay in their hearts. As they neared the brim, Jasper told Willa that his family did not know about her, that she…keeping his reasons for it silent, was an impossible escape for him. And Willa in her gentleness seemed to understand, understand because for her own reasons too he was also that for her. They agreed to keep whatever this was between them a secret, to keep it wrapped in that tender cloak of just them.
"I am longing to be with you, and by the sea, where we can talk together freely and build our castles in the air." Willa spoke in a whisper as she stepped out of the forest and Jasper remained within.
"Bram Stoker, Dracula." Jasper replied, his voice falling into softness, into a rhythm that was unfamiliar upon his tongue.
"See you soon, my sweet and lonely honey eyes." Willa leaned forward, went upon her tiptoes and cradled his cheek with her palm. His cheek overwhelmed her little hand, and yet she caressed his skin there for a moment, painting him and this in her mind before she turned and hurried back to school. Yet Jasper lingered, lingered as he watched her go first and took all of his hope with her. For if he had a heart, then in that moment it would have beat, beat pure and loud, unafraid and completely hopeful.
The rest of the day seemed to pass by with shades of withdrawal and wonder. She seemed to pass from class to class, lost within her own mind and dreams as she thought of him, of tonight. When the bell rang the end of the day, Willa weaved her way through the busy corridors, keeping small and invisible as she slipped through the chatter and hustle and out into the parking lot.
Seeing Bella waiting for her at the truck, she quickened her pace at the expression her cousin held. It was one of fluster and panic, of anxiousness and nerves.
"Where were you?" Bella asked agitated. "I was looking for you everywhere at lunch but…" she shook her head, not needing to finish her sentence as the rest of her words crumbled.
"I…" Willa nibbled her lower lip, brushing her hair behind her ear in nervousness as her other arm wrapped around her in comfort. "I went for a little walk."
"A walk?" Bella raised an eyebrow.
"Into the forest." She confessed warily. "But I," she paused as she let the strap of her bag slip down her arm and she unzipped it there, pulling out a little bundle of crushed flowers. "I picked you these." She handed the flowers towards Bella who took them with a tenderness in her eyes. "I got a little lost on the way but, oh I'm sorry my sweet Bells. I hope my little runaway wasn't too much of a bad doing. Did something happen?"
"I thought Charlie said no detours?" Bella noted, Willa's cheeks blushing the shade of guilt. "It's dangerous out there, Willa. You need to be careful." Willa gave her a small smile, pulling her strap back over her shoulder as the wind gently brushed through her loose hair. "Edward is back."
"Oh?" Surprise escaped her in that one little word.
"Yea." And Bella tilted her chin for Willa to look behind her.
After a little peek over her shoulder to see where he stood across the lot, she turned back to her cousin and asked, "Did you two, did something happen?"
"He ah…well, he talked to me and he," she tucked in her lower lip as if she almost didn't believe what she was about to say. "He was really interested in me. When we talked, he seemed engrossed in our conversation, in my life. And his eyes, they seemed to be completely different too. Last time I vividly remember the flat black color of his eyes, but today they were completely different. A dark butterscotch like-"
"Like honey." Willa said in a dulcet and demure breath. Like his, Jaspers.
"Exactly." Bella replied, a brief flutter of confusion painting her face at Willa's knowing. "But when I asked him if he had gotten contacts, he said no. But why would someone lie about their eyes?"
"I…oh daisies, I am unsure." Willa confessed, feeling remorseful that she could not help her cousin in this wonder.
"I think I babbled like an idiot." Bella shook her head, turning to get into the truck as her fluster and nervousness seeped through.
"Oh honey," Willa followed Bella into the truck, sitting beside her as she rested her hand upon her knee. "I don't think that's possible. And even if it were, he was engrossed, captivated by you and the colossal tale that constructs your heart. Babble or no, it does not matter sweetheart."
"But why would he be captivated in me?" Bella asked. "Why do I even care but I…" She rested her arm on the steering wheel and let her head fall against in. "I should be avoiding him entirely, and I'm still frightened sometimes by his hostility but…" she raised her head, fell back against her seat as she looked at Willa helpless. "But I just get to tongue-tied whenever I picture his face." Bella bit her lip in embarrassment, in the blush that crept onto her cheeks. "I am well aware that my league and his are spheres that do not touch but-"
"But nothing sweet girl." Willa interrupted gently. "Sometimes people, the ones with that enigma like aura, they enchant you. Make you quiver and bloom simultaneously just because they are them and you are you. It's complicated, beautiful and terrifying – but unexplained. Sometimes though, it doesn't need explaining and that is oki. Sometimes, it's sweeter to just left this enchantment, whether haunting or no, to sweep you away. Even if for a moment. To let enchantment lead, let curiosity fly untamed." She tucked Bella's hair behind her ear as she spoke, leaned forward and placed a dainty kiss upon her forehead. "And you're not out of his league Bells, never."
Bella smiled shy, "Thank you. I just feel so…" Bella shivered and blushed as if no words could truly capture all that she was feeling. But she didn't need to.
"I know." Willa replied, and she truly did. With Jasper, what she just spoke to Bella, she suddenly wasn't so sure if her words were directed at Bella, or herself. Leaning back in her seat, she watched as her cousin turned the heater on, unzipped her jacket and fluffed her damp hair. She felt her cheeks pinken slightly at the thought of Jasper, of meeting him tonight without another knowing. And as Bella pulled out of the parking lot, as she nearly hit a rusty Toyota due to Edward staring at her, Willa couldn't help but pull her knees to her chest and make herself feel small as she fell inward. Tonight, she was sneaking out, and after only one week of school – she held a secret that seemed to somehow be the only tether her broken heart clung to.
It was 9pm when she left, when she opened her window in a sweet dress, white tights, a chunky cardigan and climbed out. The chill nipped at her nose and brushed through her hair as she went down the vines, her fingers trembling as she went. When her little boots touched the snowy floor, Willa huddle underneath her window for a moment. She pressed her back against the house, nestled her face into her mitten hands as she thought over what she was doing – what she had done. It had only been one week, just over – and yet the way her mind pondered of him, the way her heart seemed to call his sweet name even when she tried to hush it…she closed her eyes, closed them tight as she tried to comprehend.
Willa had always opened her heart too easily, loved too quickly and gave herself away like a petal to a breeze. With how she grew, with losing everyone and everything – it was a natural consequence of such. She was desperate for love, for belonging – and so her heart never rested within her. It lay open, lay bare and raw and exposed in that longing for someone to pluck it from her and nestle it next to their own. She knew it was a terrible way to be, but she in her broken youth couldn't help it.
Opening her eyes, she rested her chin on her hands as she stood shivering in the cold. She took one more peek up at the house, at the lights which were off and both Charlie and Bella already asleep. Just once, she thought to herself – she would do this just one time. And without another thought, she began to run through the gentle snow – her hair waving behind her as she left behind all reason and safety and followed her own untamed moonlight.
Arriving at the stables, Willa placed a hand on her fluttering heart before raising them to cup her flushed cheeks. She had run the whole way, and in the cold – one could easily tell. She wrapped her arms around her as she entered into the stables. She knew of them when she was a little girl, that people would sneak into them during the night to play, talk and dance to twilight secrets - even do things that would make lovers blush and unravel. There were no horses here, or at least there weren't supposed to be. But as Willa entered the stables, as her feet crunched underneath the crusting hay – her eyes widened at the sight of two. One brown and one white. They were already saddled and ready to ride, and as Willa's eyes softened into those which were falling in love with the animal, Jasper entered from behind them and pocketed Willa's breath.
He was dressed in a faded white shirt and brown riding pants, with dark boots and his hair messy over his eyes.
"Hello honey eyes." She said in a dulcet breath, her soft brown eyes wide and lost.
"Willa." Jasper gave her a small tilt of his head as he slowly approached her. "Do you ride?" He asked. His tone was blunt and factual, a little curt even. But no matter what his tone was, Willa seemed to melt at the suggestion and let her composure tumble.
"Oh daisies, I'm not sure." She confessed, approaching the animals with lithe steps. "But I'd love to try." She embraced the horses carefully, ran her fingers over their necks and nuzzled her nose against one of theirs. She giggled at their touch, as the horse leaned into her and she it. "Oh Jasper, they are beautiful." She placed a kiss upon one of their noses, looking back up at Jasper who observed her cautiously. "Have you ever seen a more beautiful animal?"
"No." He replied, watching as Willa rested her cheek against the horse's nose and gazed up at him with such wide and wondrous eyes. "Are you, are you not cold ma'am?" He asked, unsure of what to say or how to act at her gentle enamour for the creatures.
"Oh, I'm not sure. With these beauties, I think all my awareness of weather and surroundings has fallen into an unknown." She said with a soft smile. Jasper's lips twitched upwards at her response. She was everything he wasn't, everything Maria wasn't.
"Would you like me to help you up?" He asked politely, gesturing to the white horse she seemed so smitten with. Her eyes lightened at his words and she bit her lip to try and suppress some of her glee. Walking towards her, Jasper gently brushed his hand against the small of her back before cupping his hands. "Place your foot in my hands, and I'll lift you up." He said in a command. It came across as cold and militaristic, but in this moment, just like with so many others, he knew no other way to be.
"But, won't I hurt you?" She asked, her eyes withering in worry. "With my weight or the scuff of my shoes?"
Jasper laughed, laughed a single note and shook his head in amused disbelief. "You can't hurt me." He said to her, still smiling – and it was the sight of that rare smile, of that rare laugh which convinced Willa to place her hand upon his shoulder and nestle her foot onto his hands. "Ready?" He asked her.
"You won't drop me?" She asked, her voice small as her hand brushed the material of his shirt. It wasn't crisp or new, and from the way the fabric felt, she thought it may be very old.
"Never." He replied, and lifted her up. He helped patiently as she got herself upon the horse, as he kept his hand on her ankle and she steady and gathered herself at a new height. Sitting up there, Willa looked down at him with sweet and disbelieving eyes.
"I'm on a horse." She said, her voice so happy and light. Jasper gave her ankle a little squeeze of reassurance before he got up upon the other horse and gestured towards the open stable doors towards the field.
"Ready?" He asked her, and Willa couldn't help but notice how experienced he was with his horse. The way he got on it, the way he walked it towards her – it was as if the creature was a part of him.
"More than ever." She said, and after some instruction from Jasper – the two of them road out into the snow.
It was cold as they rode, cold as snow covered the world in white and cast its spell upon the night. Little flurries clung to Willa's eyelashes, clung to her long hair and yet she did not care, didn't even tremble. She felt as if she had passed into another world and woke in a fairytale, as if she were dreaming a dream that felt too real but was still just a tease. Yet as she looked down at her white horse, as she looked across to Jasper who road with pin-straight posture and his hair careless and beautiful upon his head, she knew it was real. Although only barely.
"Are these horses yours?" She wondered aloud, looking over to Jasper who road in silence.
"Yes." He replied. "Although I don't usually keep them here." And it was true. These two horses were his, his and the only creature that he could never give into his blood lust for. For, how could he? How could he when he looked at them and saw the past, saw his human self and his human blood. Saw him.
"What are their names?" Willa asked, her little fingers stroking the neck of her horse.
"The one you are riding is named Esca, and this one," he gestured down to the horse he rode, "is Acacius. It means innocent." Innocent and human, innocent and him.
Willa cradled the names in her heart as she let them settle, whispering each one under her breath. "How long have you ridden for? If I may ponder softly?" She asked, blushing slightly at all the questions that were escaping her so.
"Since I can remember." Jasper replied, noticing her embarrassment. For although he couldn't read her emotions, he seemed to be able to read her. The expressions on her face, her little mannerisms…she was so open and vulnerable that it seemed to haunt him, taunt him. "Before I was adopted, my birth parents – they owned a ranch. My father, he was a cavalry officer in the army." He winced inwardly at his own lie, at replacing himself with his father's name. But with his life, with who he was, he didn't know how else to slip the truth in. His father was a part of him, half of him – and so maybe, he thought to himself, maybe he could share who he was with her through such a sly way. "I was raised around them, raised with them. These horses here, I suppose they are a fragment of that. Of a lost past."
"You must miss them so." Willa's own voice so little and quiet as if strained by the pain of understanding.
"Yes." He said not meeting her gaze. "Entirely."
"I know." She replied, reaching out her small hand to touch his knee. Her fingers lingered there as Jasper looked down upon it, looked at her fragile fingers and the smooth unmarred surface of her skin.
"I know you do." He said after a moment. Looking up to meet those unravelling eyes. "I know you do." And he truly did.
"How old were you?" Willa asked, removing her hand from his knee. "When you lost your parents?"
Jasper thought over his answer, thought and closed his eyes at how he had to suppress his true answer, to cover it with hues of both truth and lie. "Old enough for it to hurt." He said stiffly. "For it to bury me." Yet Willa noticed the way his voice waivered at the end, a slight crack formed that let something seep through.
"You said in the woods, that your family doesn't know you – but what about Rosalie? Your twin?" Willa asked him gently, careful to not force a crack to part unwanted.
"Death affects us in different ways." Jasper replied, trying to piece himself together – piece and sew his lies with some thread of truth. It's why it was so much easier to be alone, to hide and isolate and not let anyone look inside of him. Because there was a web inside him, a web mixed with that twisted spiral of lie and truth, of longing and what he had to say to cover himself, his species. He was buried inside that web, that core covered and drenched in that sticky white thread which he looked through. Silently, in the hope that maybe one day, someone would brush those threads away.
"That's all I may say." He finished tightly. "Do you have any siblings?" He asked, turning the conversation on Willa as his twisted web tightened and repaired itself around his soul.
"No." She confessed, her mind still lingering on Jasper's answer and manner. "No, I," her eyes blinked as she gathered herself. "My papa died before they could have another, and after him…there was no one else." She looked up and smiled a sad smile. "With the way my mama talked of him though, it was almost like he was there with us. His memory, his thoughts and feelings – him in all the ways that he was." Her fingers went to the locket she carried around her neck, the touch of metal against her skin a silent song of memory. "She made him alive through her, through her stories and traditions." She closed her eyes as she felt tears well up there, felt them prick and wish that the flurries of snow may hide them so. "It makes me so afraid sometimes."
"What does, ma'am?" Jasper asked, his horse walking closer to Willa's as he saw what she tried to hide in her eyes.
"To forget the dead. To forget those before us." Willa spoke, her teary eyes looking up from her horse to his. She knew she could not hide her tears from him, no matter the snow or darkness of the night. The moonlight held her in its arm, held her alight for him to see. And because she knew he understood pain, she knew she could not hide from him. Nor did she truly want too. "When my papa died, my mama and I went to the cemetery often…to sleep by his grave, even to talk to him. To just be close, just be safe. But when we were there, it..."
"It's ok." Jasper whispered, and Willa couldn't help but squeeze her eyes tighter at his comfort.
"It makes me cry how many barren tombstones there are." She whispered. "Soldiers fallen, children and grandparents…immigrants and those lives taken by war and history. There are millions of them, millions of tombstones that no one comes to see and maybe even remembers. That they may not even know they are there." Delicate tears fell from her eyes as she spoke, small and little which clung to her parted lips. She turned her face from him, turned as she tried to stop their little flow. "I'm sorry I…"
"No." Willa felt a hand upon her cheek, felt Jasper turn her head to face his before she looked down and he cupped her cheek. He stopped their horses, stopped them and leaned forward to brush away her tears. "Never be ashamed of your tears, Willa. Never." His words coaxed her eyes to look up at him, to lean into his touch and into understanding. "Can I tell you a story?"
She nodded into his palm, pulling away to whip her eyes and listen. "It's of a solider, a Major in the Confederate Army." Jasper began slowly, watching as Willa gathered herself and the snow cool her warming cheeks. "There was once a boy, tales of a boy who joined the Confederate Army before he turned 17." Jasper paused for a moment, paused and contemplated on why he had the need to confess himself to her in this way. But with her tears and understanding eyes, with her emotions and how she saw the world – it tapped upon the crust of his slumbering human heart and woke it for just a moment.
"In the next two years he was promoted to Major and became the youngest ever Major to serve in Texas. After evacuating a colony of women and children, he was riding back to Galveston when he came across three," he paused as he searched for the right word to describe them. "Three women in distress. He immediately offered them his aid. One of the women was named Maria." Her named burnt his tongue as he spoke it. "She was smart, careful and she had him in heart and soul."
Willa watched with gentle eyes as he spoke. Her tears had dissolved against her cheeks, melting with the snow. But something else melted within her too, melted at the way he spoke – the anguish in his voice. The story he spoke of, it seemed too personal – too raw and like the outer layers of a heart that once scrapped could bleed you dry.
"He thought what they had was love, but he was her puppet. And she pulled the strings." It took every little thing that made her Willa, to not reach forward and comfort him. The way he told the story, the way he spoke of Maria – it was almost as if he was speaking of himself. But she knew that couldn't be true, not with how far in the past it was. Yet that fresh pain was still there, that intimacy and torment. "She changed him, killed him through her lure. No one knew or where he died, where he was destroyed. But there is a grave –even his parents didn't know where it was or even if there was a grave with a body underneath. But there is. An empty grave for a boy of 19 who was said to have gone missing in action in 1863. No one has visited it, no one knows of it or laid a single flower or note upon it. But it's there…that empty and forgotten grave."
The tale he told twisted in Willa's heart, twisted and lay down within her as if to make her mind and memory it's home. She felt her heart ache, felt it wither and crumble within her like a collapsing flower as dulcet tears fell down her cheeks once more in silence.
"Why are you crying?" Jasper asked, bewilderment pulling his features. How could she be so moved? He thought to himself…how could she feel so deeply for someone who he had confessed through the narrative of a story. How? He wanted to be able to feel her emotions, for the first time in his life – in his immortal life, he yearned for his gift to work. And yet he couldn't.
"What was his name?" Willa asked softly, ignoring his question in a gentle discard.
"The tombstone doesn't say exactly. But it does say," He swallowed, swallowed and waited. His name. That grave said his name. But how could he tell her that? How could he even say that name which he hasn't spoken in a century. He didn't even know if his lips could form those letters. That name. "His name was…" He met her eyes, met them true and deep. "Major J Whitlock."
"Major J Whitlock." Willa repeated, and hearing his name on her lips – hearing the way her voice softened each note, each letter into what sounded like a sweet song or lullaby. "Major J Whitlock." She said again, and Jasper couldn't help but close his eyes at hearing the sound of his name. His true name. It was filled with love, filled with love and tenderness that he had read about in books but not ever heard. Not until now. And the thing was though, that she didn't even know it was him. Yet from the tale, it was still there – that love and tenderness coating each letter on her peony lips.
"Where is it? If I may wonder?" She asked, careful in her approach.
Jasper's eyes remained firm on hers, firm and deep as if he wanted her to see something within that he could not say. "In a forest. By an abandon stable and cabin."
But the stable and cabin weren't truly abandoned. They were close by. The stable housing a white horse and one brown. And the cabin occasionally housing a lonely soul that had dug and made that grave himself.
Willa didn't know how long they had stayed out, stayed out upon horseback and rode to nowhere in particular. They became lost in conversation, in memories and shared confessions. She had become too succumbed in him, in his ideas and thoughts – in his ponders that she didn't even notice when the snow became heavier and her body fell into shiver. But Jasper, although equally as lost – did. He took them back to the stables, got of his horse and stretched out his arms to help her down. Her fingertips were light on his shoulders, and she weighed nothing to him as she placed her weight upon him and he lifted her down.
Her descent was slow and intimate, slow and careful as they held each other's eyes and he placed her down upon the hay. Yet neither one of them let go too quickly. Instead he continued to hold her, his hands at her waist and hers on his forearms. She tumbled into his eyes, tumbled into a comforting silence before she smiled in shyness and broke away.
He walked her home and they continued to talk, to talk about the things which one should be afraid to share with another – with those deepest and most private corners of one's soul. They leaked out, leaked out of their eyes and lips and straight into the others. They both felt so warm within as they spoke, so at peace and in comfort. It frightened them so, frightened them a little at this intimacy and understanding, but neither could prevent it from blossoming underneath the night's arms.
Reaching her house, Jasper helped Willa climb up into her room – directing her to which vine she should step on and where to place her hands. He followed her up, followed her close and safe in case she fell and stumbled. But being right beside her, she made it up safe with Jasper following her close. Entering her room, Willa turned to see Jasper linger at the window – his arm holding onto its frame as he still stood outside on the vines.
He watched silently and cautious as Willa took out a paintbrush and dipped it in some gold paint. Walking towards him and sitting on her bed, she kneeled in front of him and leaned forward.
"What are you doing?" Jasper whispered.
"Remembering." Placing the tip of her paintbrush on the wall next to where Jasper held the frame of the window, she painted a name – painted Major J Whitlock.
"But you don't even know him." Jasper released, confusion pinching his words in whisper.
Tucking the brush behind her ear, Willa sat close to where he stood upon the vines – only the windowsill separating them. "I don't need to." She said gently. "The world needs more love, is desperate for it. To be loved and to belong, to remember. Someone's got to give it, and why not me?" She shrugged her shoulders up humble and shy as silence settled between them.
"Why do you paint, Willa?" Jasper asked, nodding towards the room that lay behind her.
A demure smile graced her pink lips at his question. "Because I was meant to." She whispered, "because it's like I have these little images, these fairytales and thoughts all twirling within me but…" she trailed off into a hush as she felt her painter's pulse press against her skin, that silent song to be freed from imagination and to leak into reality.
Jasper smiled at her words, smiled a smile that seemed faraway within himself and his own ponder.
"Maybe," she leaned forward, her waist pressing against the windowsill between them. "Maybe," she slowly reached out her hand, reached out and brushed Jasper's hair from his eyes. She laid the curls neatly on his forehead, the backs of her fingertips brushing his skin like a butterfly wing against a petal. "Maybe I'll paint you one day." She cupped his cheek for just a moment, felt the curve and outline of his face overwhelm her little hand. "Will you be safe?" She asked him, letting her hand fall into her lap. And yet she remained close, remained ever so close as the moonlight framed and shadowed around them. "Going home?"
He smiled at her, smiled because of the irony and how in the night – he was the most dangerous thing out there. "I will." He reassured.
"Promise?" She asked with worry all nestled in her eyes and placed her hand upon his. Her small fingers wove around the curve of his that held onto the window's frame – her touch so light and soft, so tender in its expression.
"I promise." His eyes softened slightly at her innocent worry, but he did not smile. He was too lost and too overcome by her to do so, too much falling inward in bewilder at the girl she was. "Sweetest dreams, little darlin." He said with a tilt of his head.
"Sweetest dreams, Jasper." Willa whispered in return, holding his eyes and painting them within her until he climbed down and departed into the night.
As light seeped into Willa's room, past the frost and chill which nipped at her skin like a lover's bite – her eyes remained open, and her mind lost in memory. Dreams and sleep did not claim her that night, for how could they? The story he told, the way he spoke and looked at her, she was haunted by it, by him and so willingly too. When Jasper left, she wrote down the story he told her in a notebook, tried to paint the face that may belong to this broken and forgotten Major J Whitlock.
Sitting up in her bed, she gently moved to sit by the windowsill – her fragile fingers tracing the curls of the name she had painted there last night. But as she did, her fingers moved to where Jasper's hand had held onto her window frame. It felt like a dream, felt like a misty dream that teased the edges of her mind. But at the ache within her heart, and the breeze which she felt within her – she knew it wasn't. She could feel the cracks in her heart, feel it opened and touched by another – by him.
She placed her hand on her heart in a bashful manner, nibbled at the nails on her other and sunk down into her pillows. She felt weak and utterly afraid – afraid at how exposed her heart was to him, how she kept and continue to keep placing it in his hands with every look or escaping word. She was frightened, frightened at how he could cradle her soul in such a way, at how he could truly see her and understand in this silent way that even she did not understand. Afraid by her own self, her own curiosity – of him and them.
Getting up from her bed, she padded gently to her door and opened it with a soft release of wood against wood. The hallway was empty, and yet she could hear Bella in the kitchen downstairs. Walking down barefoot and with a dressing gown threaded around her, she entered the kitchen and fixed her bed-hair waves.
"Good morning you." She said softly, starling her cousin who slipped and grasped the counter to steady herself.
"Morning." Bella replied sheepishly, embarrassed by her fumble.
"How are you feeling?" Willa asked, nursing a fresh cup of hot coco that Bella had made her between her small hands.
"Ah, excited – nervous. A bit of mess." She laughed to herself. "I know it's stupid but, I'm eager to go to school today. To see Edward."
Willa smiled softly at her cousin, looking down in shyness as she pondered the question that played on her mind. "Bella," she asked, flicking her eyes up to meet hers. "Do you, do you ever feel afraid sometimes – afraid of someone seeing you? Of someone understanding those most secret and tender parts of you even if you so willingly give it to them, and so deeply yearn for it so?" Bella blinked at Willa's words, trying to comprehend the little complexities of emotions which lay there. "Oh I'm sorry," Willa quickly said trying to cover herself. "I must sound like such a dizzy."
"No, not at all." Bella replied, approaching Willa as she thought over her answer. "I think it's only natural to be afraid of something, even if you want it so desperately. The more you want it, the more afraid you can become in case that thing you want or yearn for – in some turn of events, breaks you instead."
"Breaks you." Willa whispered under her breath, closing her doe eyes. Or leaves you, she thought to herself. She'd lost everyone, everything and even herself. To find hope in another, to let herself tumble and spill into another's heart and eyes no matter her yearning nor will to do so – it was terrifying. Terrifying because of that surrender to another – of that possibility of them to break you…to leave or betray. To abandon whether physically or mentally.
"It's only natural." Bella repeated, "I mean, look and me with Edward. I don't know what I'm thinking of feeling." She laughed lightly in embarrassment, in a timid awkwardness at her own situation and condition of her heart.
"Thank you." Willa said softly, repeating it once more before pocketing away her thoughts and offering to help with breakfast before getting ready for school. She placed on her white tights and a pretty dress, a sweet warm coat, her favorite cream mittens and a bow in her hair.
They had no trouble driving to school on the black ice roads and with Bella's excitement and talk of Edward, it gave Willa a soothing distraction from Jasper and the story he had told. Pulling into the parking lot, Willa got out of the car followed by Bella – huddle together in the cold as they linked their arms with one another and nestled against the side of the truck as they talked about the day ahead.
But as Bella talked, Willa's eyes lifted up and past her cousin to where Jasper stood at the other end of the parking lot. He didn't look her way, and yet in his hand he held the book she had given him. His hand held it tight, held it protective and precious as he talked with his family in a relaxed manner. Yet just as her eyes were about to look away, his moved to hers – caught hers and held them there in this sweet and silent embrace. He cradled her with his eyes, cradled her in a hold that made her remember last night and all they had shared. The way he looked at her when she spoke, when she cried and when he held her from helping her off the horse.
She looked at him innocent and in yearning, doe eyes and small underneath his dangerous gaze.
"Willa?" At the sound of her name, she fluttered her eyes to Bella with startled nervousness. But Bella hadn't seen who she was looking at, no one had.
"Oh daisies I'm sorry, what did you-" But before she could finish her sentence, a loud shriek pierced her ears. Looking to her left with wide and fearful eyes, a dark blue van was skidding. Its tires locked and screaming against the breaks – spinning wildly across the ice and right towards them.
Authors Note: Oh my oopsie doopsie! I hope this chapter wasn't too long! I wish with every little petal that you liked it so and I can't wait to hear what you think of it so. Until then I am sending you all love and comfort, peace and hope. Prettiest wishes and all my love, Elodie.