Sometimes, when she took a step back in consideration of just how much she'd become attached to the currently absent vampire of hers, it scared her.

Time was but a concept to her in her current situation, but in the span of things, the amount of time spent with him was hardly enough to feel the way she did about him.

The power of her emotions was considerable, her pull to him tangible. Even now, as she waited for him to return from his hunt, there was an ache in her chest that she couldn't relieve. He'd only been gone for a few hours and she was this torn up about it? The thought that the two strange vampires might be pursuing them made the feeling even worse.

Her connection to Edward was a pale imitation in comparison to what she shared with Jasper. With Edward she had felt girlish, shy, uncomfortable. She awoke everyday wondering if he'd decided his fascination with her was a fleeting thing and thus needed to cut off all ties with her. After all, she was a danger to his family if the Volturrii ever discovered she knew about the very real existence of vampires.

She'd been Edward's girlfriend and to her younger self that word had filled her with such joy she almost couldn't bear it. But that term seemed so childish, so inadequate to what she felt for Jasper. And it scared her.

She had no business feeling this way for a virtual stranger. But it felt like she'd known him for a lifetime, no, lifetimes.

His trust in her, something she felt she hadn't earned, was so complete that it left her breathless, and she reciprocated that trust tenfold. He wouldn't hurt her. The possibility that he could didn't even skim her mind and he'd proven time and time again that he'd protect her against the world, no matter the odds.
And though his words were few and their relationship was undefined and tentative, she had no doubt that their relationship surpassed any she'd ever had before.

And so when he appeared at the passenger side window of her truck, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, she smiled so fondly that he tilted his head curiously.

The further south she drove the more obvious it became that the sun would prove to be a problem.

Jasper had given a startled grunt from beside her as she drove and she'd glanced over to get a blinding eyeful of his skin glimmering beneath the sunrays streaming through the windows.

He was staring at his raised hand and turning it this way and that, wiggling his fingers in wonder.

"Yeah," she mused. "We're going to have to do something about that."

He locked eyes with her and smiled softly, waving his hand playfully to capture even more of the sun. She laughed and pushed his hand back into his lap.
"Stop before you cause an accident," she chuckled fondly.

He grabbed her hand before she could pull it back, cradling it gently. The bones in her hand were as fine as a bird's and she briefly recognized that the slightest application of his strength could crush them to dust.

But like a passing wave the thought didn't even truly register with her.

Jasper played with her hand, spreading her fingers out to line up with his own and comparing his skin to hers. She subtly threaded her fingers through his own and held his hand tightly.

A brief surge of emotion flooded her and made her throat tight. He was all she had left... she couldn't go home, she couldn't rely on any other person. He was her comrade, her partner. She squeezed his hand tightly as a warm rush of some undefinable emotion flooded her.

The rumbling bass of his purr filled the cab and nearly made her close her eyes in bliss. He squeezed her hand in return and held it gently between both of his own, settling back and looking out the window at the trees rushing by.

"Quit messing with it," she scolded lightly, tugging his ballcap back down from where he'd been fiddling with the rim of it.

He sighed and gave it a pointed tug. "Feels weird," he 'd begun to talk again, slowly and softly and in short worded sentences. They were few and far between but she always smiled so widely when he did speak that he felt compelled to make an effort to do so more often.

"Well it's either that or become a human disco ball and we cant really afford the attention."

Dressed in a ballcap, hoodie, and sunglasses that she'd forcefully outfitted him with, he felt vaguely ridiculous.

He huffed but stopped when the air brought a bombardment of scents to him. They were miles out from a small town but even still he could sense the life force of the people beyond. Bella had insisted on building his tolerance to resisting the impulse to drink.

Each time his attention wandered or his eyes grew too distant from considering just how close he was to the only thing that could nourish this monstrous body of his, she'd pointedly begin talking. She talked about random things, like how she used to dance when she was younger, or the one time she'd fallen into a lake. Small, pointless stories. But they were amusing to him and gave him a look into her life, and always served to take his attention away from the maddening burn in his throat.

From behind his sunglasses he felt unabashed to watch her, the way her hair shone almost red in the sun, how her chest flickered so subtly as her heart beat. And her scent... while it was alluring, it wasn't overwhelming. The warmth of life permeated the very air around her. She was beautiful and he made sure to commit every detail to memory while he could.

It was brief and less often than he'd prefer, but he was beginning to have moments of lucidity that he treasured. It was like waking up from a long coma, and the clearness of his thoughts was like breathing fresh air after eons of being in an airtight chamber.

And Bella. When he was like this, the meaning of her words meant more to him. His feelings were less chaotic and his instincts ruled over him less when he was like this.

He could watch her expressive face, could appreciate her smile, her laughing eyes, the quirk of her lips, during these moments.

"Jasper?" she asked softly, pausing in her retelling of a dog that had chased her when she was five, resulting in an irrational fear of the things.

He jerked soflty at the suddenness of her voice as he was roused from his thoughts, startled. It wasn't something he could control, the reactions of his body. Even if he wasn't paying attention, his hindbrain certainly was.

Regret flooded his chest when she startled in response. Her eyes turned guilty and she held out a hand as of soothing a wild animal.
He supposed, in a way, she was.

But the guilt she clearly felt, that wasn't acceptable.

So, taking a page from her book, he distracted her.

He tugged at his cap and nearly pulled it off before she batted his hands away and scolded him, resettling it with a grumble.
He hid his smile and asked, "What kind of dog was it?"

She sat back, as if startled he'd actually been listening to her. Her smile made his own lips lift and as she launched into her story once more, he settled his chin in the palm of his hand and watched every movement she made, appreciating every second of it

AN: it's been a while! I'm sorry this took so long to get out! I want to thank each and every one of you who reviewed and asked me to continue, please know that I saw them all. Please forgive me for my absence.

In other news, would anyone like to volunteer to beta this mess of mine? Please PM me if you're interested!

-Iva :)