I have waited a thousand years for you.

Trouble at our door

"It's beautiful." That was definitely not the answer Margaret was expecting. Her friends had read over it, the most common answer was around the lines of 'it's so cool' or 'it's great!'. But the only persons who said something profound that touched her came from the Cullens and her father.

"I'm glad you liked it," Jasper set the papers down on her desk and sat facing her.

"I must say, the soldier is my favorite," Jasper stated, his lips curving in a devilish smirk.

"Of course, it is," Margaret's eyes rolled, but she leaned in to kiss him. Jasper kissed her back, the taste of her never enough for him. The kiss deepened, and Margaret's hand found itself tugging slightly at his hair. They stopped Maggie, regaining her breath as Jasper's forehead rested against hers.

"I love you," he muttered, Margaret smiled, her eyes shining.

"I love you too," They snuggled, Maggie comfortably resting her head on his chest, enjoying the feel of Jasper's fingers playing with her hair.

"Alice and Rosalie will come by tomorrow morning to pick you up." He said after some time, Margaret didn't raise her head, her eyes were closed but she wasn't sleeping.

"I suppose Rosalie wasn't ecstatic." She exhaled, and Jasper hummed a laugh.

"I wasn't either," Now Margaret rested her chin on his chest and looked at him, understanding in her gaze. "I feel overly protective of you," He explained, his brows furrowed together.

"I know," She replied.

"Yeah, Vampire stuff," he mused his eyes lowering, avoiding hers. A soft caress of her hand on his cheek snapped his eyes back to hers.

"No, it's not Vampire stuff," she said plainly. "It's Jasper stuff, it's Maggie stuff." Jasper kissed her hand, holding it on his cheek. "It's our stuff." Her lazy smile may have been even more beautiful, and it saddened Jasper that he couldn't tell her why it was like that. Why this stuff that they felt - so similar to what his parents felt, what his sisters felt - was because of a mating bond. "What is it?" Her voice brought him back to the moment they were sharing.

"I love you," he repeated. Margaret snuggled closer.

"Yes, you've said so," Her smile sent sparks through him, making him feel alive. "But I enjoy hearing you say it."

"There are many more things I want to say," he told her.

"Don't let me stop you, cowboy." Her eyes looked up at him expectantly.

"Every day with you has made me feel more alive than the last. You bewitched me, body and soul. You're the first thing I think of when the sun rises and the last when it dawns. Whenever I find myself away from you the tiniest thing brings your face back to mind. I love how you find something beautiful in everything, even those that don't seem like much to the untrained eye. I love how you seem to know everything I feel. I love how every time you see someone you love your eyes shine brighter and you smile so wide you nearly squint. But most of all, I love how you make me feel because, in my one hundred forty-one years of immortal life, I felt so human." Margaret's face was lifted with that smile and shining eyes he had just described, and a blush spread through her cheeks and nose. "And I love how you blush every time I tell you how much I love you." He whispered, his hand reaching under her chin to lift her eyes toward his. A tear rolled down her cheek. Jasper leaned low to kiss it away.

"You're truly something," she laughed and pecked his lips. "What have I done to deserve you?"

"Shall I begin a new list?" Jasper inquired.

"Hmm, maybe tomorrow." Her lips grinned as she scootched closer. "Just hold me, I'm tired, and I sleep much better with you near." Her voice faltered as she drifted to sleep.

That night Jasper stayed back longer than usual, simply drawing soothing circles on Margaret's back, her arm hugging him close and her head resting on his arm. When he left, his heart seemed heavier than on other nights, and it might be, because he had somewhat revealed the mating bond to her, and he had just become aware of how important this was.

***

Charlie had noticed how Margaret's mood had improved over the year. He watched her stir her chocolate milk humming joyfully to herself, it reminded him of when she was younger, always beaming and cheerful.

"How's the prom going?" Charlie asked as his daughter sat down by the kitchen table, hugging one of her knees.

"It's coming along, we've already discarded many ideas," Margaret explained motioning to the mess of a table they had, papers and laptop pushed aside to make space for their breakfast.

"So, no underwater theme?" He asked her, his smile carrying his mustache upwards with it.

"Not this year," Margaret laughed. "But we're down to three themes so I need opinions." Margaret handed her father three stacks of papers stapled together. "Tell me which one's your favorite." Her fingers wrapped around her cup and she drank.

"Decades, Masquerade or Fantasy world?" He read over them, placed down his mug, and furrowed his brows in concentration. The pages flipped over and over as Margaret's father skimmed through the photos and ideas. "Esthetically, I like Masquerade, now" He laced his hands and placed his head on them. "I think you would have the time of your life planning a fantasy-themed prom."

"This isn't about what I may like pops! It's about what will everyone like!" She exclaimed, her smile showing.

"Precisely, people will love whatever you decide, at least have fun while doing it!" Her father finalized sending her a wink.

From outside a knock brought Rosalie and Alice face to face with Charlie.

"Hello, Charlie!" Alice chimed cheerfully. "We're here to steal Maggie away." Charlie welcomed both girls and soon Margaret reached the door, hanging her bag on her shoulder.

"Have fun girls!" He called as the girls entered the car. The three of them waved enthusiastically.

"I must say, I find it odd how your sister can be such a pain," Rosalie said, during the drive.

"Yeah, your father's a treasure." Alice agreed.

"I don't think it's her fault, the separation has been hard on her," Margaret added.

"It hasn't been easy on any of you either, besides, she did decide not to visit anymore." Rosalie pointed out.

"You have a point." Margaret accepted, not having anything to argue back. "But still, she's my sister and we'll make her feel welcome."

They shopped for hours, trying to find the trendiest items. Rosalie was huffing and whining near the end, fussing over the shades of purple on the bedsheets, but they got it done before lunch. Margaret's father was eating at the reservation with the Blacks, and Margaret had told him that she was eating at the Cullen's, so that's where they headed after dropping off their shopping. When they got there, Margaret was welcomed with the smell of Truffle Tagliatelle.

"Oh, Esme you're an angel!" She praised while entering the kitchen. Esme smiled broadly as she cleaned off the remaining dishes, that otherwise would've never been used.

"It's nothing, I love any reason to use the kitchen." Once she finished she rushed to Margaret's side and hugged her.

Margaret and the girls conversed for a long time before Alice had a vision. Rosalie's hand rested upon her sister's.

"What is it, Alice?" Her voice held concern as did Alice's expression.

"Trouble." She whispered.