Text Size Large SizeMedium SizeSmall Size    Color Scheme Black SchemeWhite SchemeGrey SchemePaper Scheme        

First Impressions

Summary:
Jasper and Rosalie Hale live a simple life in Forks with Carlisle and Esme. Both of their lives are rocked, however, by the appearances of love in their lives. JasperBella, RosalieEmmett.


Notes:


1. Inconsequential Human Girl

Rating 0/5   Word Count 756   Review this Chapter

There she was again. She was leaning casually over the table across from me, her mahogany waves cascading over her shoulder in a bounce. She was new, and I was old. I should not have desired her the way that I did. Her laughter, soft and light, like air, was audible from my secluded seat in the corner of the cafeteria. Was this punishment for my life’s sin? I could feel her gentle emotions radiating around her. Perhaps I was destined to ache for her, to long to brush my hand against her silky cheek, to love her. Dare I say the word? Love. It felt sinful to even think the word.

And there he was again. Was it wrong for my blood to boil when I saw him wrap his arm possessively around her slim waist? In any case, it did. I wanted to wring the life from him, watch the too-bright lights behind his quick green eyes fade and burn.

“Jasper,” Rosalie said. “You’re thinking about her again, aren’t you? I can see it in your eyes.” Nothing escaped my twin, ever. We were different as night and day, but she still knew me like the back of her hand.

“And if I am, Rosalie? Give me some peace, I beg you. If I want to think of some inconsequential girl for a moment, allow me to do so.” She threw her hands up deferentially.

“Fine, but don’t expect anything of it. She’s just another human, after all. Don’t forget who we are.” The warning tone in her voice was bitter; perhaps my infatuation with a human girl reminded her of her own regrettable slip in judgment so many years ago. Emmett had been his name, before things went… downhill.

“I know what you’re thinking of,” she snapped. “And this isn’t the same. I was younger, then, and very foolish. I’m just trying to protect you now.”

“Let me tell you a little story, Rose, about a pot and a kettle…” She narrowed her eyes.

“No, Jasper let me tell you something. You will regret those words whenever she lays limp in your arms, sucked dry. You will regret those words when she is cold and dead in the ground. And I will be there, to remind you of how above it all you once believe yourself. I won’t forget.” She was gone before I could respond, slamming her tray into a trashcan before I could blink. I would have to pay for this later, I was sure.

“What a fool I am,” I said quietly to myself. Almost as if in response, she looked up and locked eyes with me. My breath caught in my throat; was she looking at me, truly? They all looked from time to time, humans; they couldn’t help but stare at what they rightly guessed was inhuman beauty. But Bella never even glanced our way.

I heard her Edward calling her name. “Bella,” he said. “What are you looking at?” He followed her gaze to me. Quickly, I looked away from her, at the cafeteria walls above her head. But I could feel the slight jealousy and suspicion emanating from him, and I knew his eyes were still on me, prying at me.

“Nothing,” she said, in her angel’s voice. “There’s nothing to look at.” The bell rang, and everyone dashed from their seats and out of the room. I stayed in my seat, nursing the surprisingly deep wound that Bella’s words had wrought in me.

When I got home, Esme was already in a flurry around the house. She was cleaning – needlessly, of course, but nothing could be done about it. “Oh, Jasper, hello dear,” she said, not missing a beat in her frenzy of orderliness. “I was just thinking about you. Rose got home a little, ah…” She paused to search mentally for the right word. “Upset. Do you know what was wrong with her? She said she didn’t want to talk.”

“And I still don’t, especially not to Jasper,” she called from upstairs. Her anger was choking my senses. Esme looked a little shell-shocked.

“I’m sorry about that, Esme. We had a bit of an argument earlier in the day. It was about… relationships.”

Esme stopped mopping the entryway, surprised. “Oh,” she said, her hand resting on the top of the mop. “Why is that?”

“Well,” I said. “It’s about a girl…”

She smiled. “It always is.”