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In The Moment

Jacob's reflections on his new life and love, post-Breaking Dawn. A series of one-shots as his imprint changes with the years. Time transforms them, yet so much stays the same.

THERE BE SPOILERS AHEAD!!! consider yourself warned. Right, my first attempt at Jake's POV. warning, immense amounts of Quil/Claire are going to sneak into this story while i'm not looking, because those two seriously never shut up... they're always talking in my brain. Sigh. Anyway, barring my insanity, this will be a bunch of one-shots, loosely connected, heavy on the thinking and low on the action. They will be written as they occur to me.

2. Names

Rating 5/5   Word Count 593   Review this Chapter

Why does it matter what I call her? When I first explained, years ago, to Bella, about Quil and Claire, I said he would change.

Be whatever she needed from him.

And that’s the simple truth.

But I continued. “Brother, best friend, lover…”

And that’s where I made a mistake. No one who hasn’t felt this could understand. I will not change with the years. My feelings are absolute. The way I express them may transform, but I will not.

No pun intended—I’m not talking about the wolf thing here. Shapeshifter, now, not werewolf.

What does it matter? Honestly, those stupid leeches, changing the name of our species because they have a prejudice against something of the same name but a different nature.

I guess it shouldn’t bother me, either.

Nessie’s never been like a sister to me. No brother feels this strongly. Sure, it’s impossible to have a meaningful friendship with a child as young as she was when I met her. The only thing she knew how to need from me was protection and simple fulfillment of basic needs- my arms to sleep in when she was tired, food when she was hungry, simple entertainment when she was bored.

She’s older now, old enough that she needs someone to trust, someone who understands everything, who’s there with a smile and a joke and reassurance not to worry, because I’m a freak too.

And later, maybe, if she wants, I’ll love her like that. But at this exact moment, I don’t feel any kind of romantic desire—for her, or anyone else.

Quil has a theory, a pretty good one. Imprinting, he says, isn’t necessarily romantic. Not at all. It only means that I’m as much a part of Nessie as her arm or her foot.

Right now, it doesn’t help her at all for me to want her. Later, she’ll need to be desired and loved. Later, she’ll need someone who can hold her and kiss her and make her feel every bit as beautiful as she is.

Right now, not so much.

So the only thing I want is what she needs from me. As she changes, so will my desires. But the way I feel about her will never change.

She is the center of my world. She is the only everything in the universe. She kept me tethered to reality from the moment I saw her and the bonds to my old life floated away.

Years may change how she feels for me. At the beginning, a caretaker like all the others: her mother and father, Carlisle and Esme, Barbie, and the rest. At the moment, the closest thing to a friend her age she has, someone who understands what it is to be a child in a family of those who’ve left time behind (because I do feel so young sometimes, like I’m no older than she is, like every discovery she makes is my own as well). And in the end, maybe she’ll see her future in me. Or maybe not. Maybe that other half-blood will win her heart. Maybe she’ll do the whole doomed love Romeo and Juliet thing with some human, just like her parents.

As long as she’s happy, I don’t care.

The only name I need is hers. Her arm, her foot, her Jacob. Placed on the earth to serve her needs, honored to observe her joy, loving her with all my soul.