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There came about a panic that most commonly paired well with a cigarette. But, Jamie no longer itched with such urges and wanted nothing less than watching Carlisle's subtle grimace if he ever caught a whiff of tobacco on his clothes.
Alice rushed back to Washington, roaring out of sight in her Turbo and leaving behind the promise to call when she found Isabella; dead or alive. Jamie remembered the feel of her lips on his cheeks when she kissed him goodbye and suddenly he was sat against a tree very far away from the house, halfway through a pack of Reds he secretly beseeched Emmett into buying for him.
They only left him with the thick taste of ash on his tongue and a guilt mild enough to ignore. The old, familiar habit kept him going until the sun began to sink low and the forest shadows stretched and darkened.
He fiddled with the lighter, flicking it on and off and watching the trembling fire. The final cigarette hung loosely between his lips and just as he brought the flame forward, Jamie heard the soft sound of footsteps behind him.
"Carlisle is looking for you." Rosalie told his back.
"Tell him I'm dead," Jamie said and lit his cigarette.
"Too late for that."
She came around to stand at his shoulder and looked down her nose at the cigarette remains around his legs.
"Disgusting."
Smoke curled up from Jamie's mouth and over his eyes.
"Yeah," he said.
Rosalie tutted once and stood there for a quiet, deciding moment. There was a shuffle of fallen pines and she settled herself down onto the forest floor and leant against the tree. Their shoulders were close and almost touching and she held out another pack for him to take
They watched the stars though the thick canopy and when Jamie shifted to offer her a cigarette, Rosalie accepted it. She turned her head and Jamie lifted the lighter. The flame danced to life between them and for a moment he saw her pale face in the light, drawn tight and unhappy.
"It's not your fault," he said when she took her first long draw.
Rosalie scowled and looked away, smoking into the opposite night. Jamie left the fresh pack and the lighter between them and went back to the sky. When she snuffed out her stub and reached for the next one, Rosalie spoke into the brief heat as she lit it.
"I never should have called Edward."
"He would have found out sooner or later," Jamie said. "Isabella shouldn't have jumped."
She sneered, "Stupid girl."
"Yeah," murmured Jamie and flicked away his embers, their orange glow fluttered briefly above his stretched legs before fading.
