Perspicuous (J.HALE)

02

I dressed quickly, carefully slipping the dress back into the garment back and trying not to get the skirt caught in the zip. I poked my head into Alice's room before entering, finding it empty, and hung the dress back up on the curtain rail between the two others. I paused as I stepped back out into the corridor, glancing down the hallway to the last door on the left.

It was ajar.

As I crept closer, soft music dribbled out of the room. Classical—one that I recognised but couldn't name. I couldn't hear him inside, but that wasn't surprising. Spending time with the Cullens was like being in a house with ghosts. They drifted from room to room, completely silent, and simply appeared at your shoulder if you so much as breathed the first syllable of their name. Other than little things around the house moving from one place to another, you would believe it to be empty.

"Don't linger, Clarke."

I jolted in surprise, cheeks blushing hot and pink in a wave of acidic chagrin. He didn't open the door, or even poke his head through it. He just went back to phantom-like quietness and left me to silently steep in my own embarrassment in the corridor. I waited for my heart rate to calm down a little, ignoring the fact that he could hear each stunted thump, before opening the door.

Jasper was stretched out on the brown leather couch, one ankle resting on the raised knee of the opposite leg, a hand behind his head. The record player was crackling its way through the spinning vinyl, and he shot be a lazy smile.

"Hi," I said coolly, electing to ignore the remaining mortification fizzing in my gut.

"Hey."

"Alice made you play dress-up, yet?" I wandered over to the record collection just for something to do, flicking through the sleeves like I had done every time I'd been in his room.

"I was ambushed after Edward," he said, sighing. "I don't mind suits, though."

"Lucky," I sighed. "I have to wear a dress."

His lips stretched into a dry grin. "How will you survive?"

I shot him a glare over my shoulder. "Dresses don't have pockets."

He blinked. "Huh?"

"You get pockets in a suit," I said.

"What's so important about pockets?"

I snorted. "Have you ever met a woman? We've been deprived of pockets for centuries."

"I'm sure dresses with pockets exist."

"Oh, they do," I said. "And if I ever get one, you will never hear the end of it. They're an endangered species."

We looked at each other for a few moments, his expression a little baffled but eyes amused. I stopped myself from looking at them for too long—I'd fallen into the churning gold a few too many times.

"What are you thinking about?"

I jumped, his voice a lot closer than it had been previously. He appeared at my side, arm brushing mine gently. I looked at him in questioning and he gestured to my face.

"Your eyebrows are scrunched together," he said simply. "That's your thinking face."

I tried not to smile. "Bit weird, Hale."

"I did nothing but watch you think for months, I can't help it."

I was thinking about how close to me he was. I was thinking about the fact that each of his exhales shifted the hair on my shoulder and raised goosebumps on the back of my neck. I was thinking about how he smelled of rosewater, but with a hint of woodsmoke. I was thinking about the way a single, waved strand of his hair was caught on his lip.

"You're definitely thinking about something," he murmured.

I was thinking about the last time we were in his room alone together. About how I'd leaned back into his chest and he'd held my hips. About how I'd hesitated. And then about why.

I sucked in a breath.

"None of your business," I said, shooting him a small smirk.

He pressed his lips together but didn't object. I sighed.

"Alice basically told me I look like shit," I said.

He raised an eyebrow. "How nice of her."

"Well, she implied it," I said. "She said I need more sleep, which is the hot take of the century."

He chuckled.

"She doesn't want me looking tired for the wedding, basically. Suggested that I stay here the night before and Rosalie look after Ethan."

The atmosphere tightened, like all the air had been sucked from the room. My heart stuttered.

"So, I can get some sleep," I blurted. "Obviously."

He cleared his throat and nodded. "Obviously."

The thought of trying to sleep in the same house as Jasper almost gave me a heart attack. Knowing that he was across the hall, awake, listening to music or reading or just simply lying there...

"It's a good idea," he said, shrugging. "Means you could spend the morning with Ethan before the wedding. I don't mind dropping him at Emily's an hour or so before the ceremony."

I looked at him and smiled. "Thanks."

He smiled back.

I hated it.

My brain. My body. The way it reacted to closeness. I wanted to touch him, to kiss him, to be enclosed in his arms without feeling like I was drowning.

I'd hesitated that day because the link between his hands and his face had started to blur. My body didn't recognise the touch as Jasper's, but as his.

A loud, shrill sound sliced through the thick silence, both of our heads snapping toward the door. Jasper slipped his hands into his pockets and moved away from me wordlessly, the crying pulling at my chest.

"I'll, uh..." I said, sniffing and brushing my hands off on my jeans. "I'll talk to you later."

"Sure," he said with an easy smile, settling back down on the couch.

I left the room with a burning face and a throbbing chest.