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"Would you rather be with him?"

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"Would you rather be with him?"

Thomas was quiet, letting the sound of the wind drown out the question as he watched the last of the leaves fall to the ground. He could hear the soft crunch of the dead grass as Jasper moved to sit beside him, both of them inhaling the smell of wet grass and wood as they looked out into the dusk.

"Who?" The word fell like a ghost from Tom's lips, almost like it hadn't really escape him at all. It was far too quiet to be Tommy's word. All of Tom's words were quick, and punctual, and precise, and so self-assured.

But this word was different, and it was hollow, and lacking emotion, and the person who had spoken it did not sound like Tom at all.

Then again, Thomas Taylor hadn't seemed like himself for a very long time. Not that anyone had noticed, not even Alice. But Jasper noticed, maybe even Edward too.

"You know who," Jasper finally turned to look at the boy.

Thomas continued staring forward, his tongue flicking out over his lips as he pulled the skin between his teeth and bit down.

His arms were crossed over his knees, palms squeezed tightly in the sleeves of his dark navy sweater as he let out a shaky breath.

"He reminded me of summer," Thomas began. "Like I was waking up everyday next to my own little ray of sun that always made me happy. And then one day," a shaky breath passed his lips. "One day the clouds came back. It's not like I don't love Alice," he turned to Jasper, "because I do. I really, really do."

"But? The Hale urged.

"But I just wasn't ready for summer to be gone so soon."

"You need to be honest with yourself, Tom," Jasper rested a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Don't get yourself hurt."

"I've already dealt with my pain." Thomas turned back to the woods, his shoulders falling as the tension seemed to slip out of his body. "I come here to deal. It reminds me of him."

Jasper gave a soft nod, squeezing Tommy's shoulder again as he pushed himself off the ground to stand.

"Thank you," Tom mumbled.

"Anytime."

The quiet surrounded Thomas once more, his vacant eyes staring back out into the dead wood.

Tristan took Jasper's place beside his brother, not saying a word as he mirrored Tommy's position.

Neither of them spoke for what felt like hours, the boys taking in the feeling of the wind. Or, lack there of that is, they didn't know if it was cold, or warm, didn't care much either if they were being honest with themselves.

"You miss it?" Tristan was once again unnerved by the sound of his voice, the usual hoarse tone long gone.

Tom was quiet as he squinted, lip still drawn between his teeth.

"There's a lot of things I'm missing lately."

"You miss dad?"

"Yeah, I miss dad."

"You miss mom?"

"Course."

"New York?"

Tom was silent, wringing his hands in the grass as he thought.

"No," he shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

"I do," Tris whispered. "I miss a lot."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, not as much as you do."

Thomas turned to his brother, raising an eyebrow.

"I miss silly things. Like," he hummed. "Cold wind on my face, the sound of my voice, my eyes, drinking. I miss feeling Jasper's skin and thinking it was cold. I miss having my choice, because even when I didn't have anything," Tristan gave a shaky sigh, "I still had a choice."

The younger Taylor let his words linger, giving Thomas a chance to speak up before Tristan took the words out of his mouth.

"And what do I miss?" Tom urged him on.

"You miss being flawed, you miss sleeping to have an escape for your thoughts, you miss not having this gift."

Tristan hesitated to continue, Thomas raising an eyebrow as he turned to his brother.

"You miss Embry Call."

"No," Tom mumbled.

"Liar."

The word made Tom's calm breathing stop, the boy releasing his lip from between his teeth.

"Liar?"

"You used to be a very convincing liar, big brother," he clasped his hands together, squinting at Thomas. "Unfortunately, no one can lie to me anymore."

"I thought this was what I wanted, I really did," Tom shrugged. "But now I just feel-"

"Dead?"

"Dead," Tom echoed.

"Yeah," Tristan sniffled as his eyes fell to the ground. "I feel dead all the time."

The words were almost so quiet Tristan had thought Tommy didn't hear. But he was proven wrong when his brother took his hand.

"I do too."

"I wasn't ready to die just yet."

"I know, Tristan."

"I wasn't ready at all."

"I wasn't either."

The silence lingered for another minute after the words left Tom's mouth.

"Liar," Tristan repeated. "You were ready to die the moment you got in that car with Alice and went to Italy."

"I didn't want to die."

"Liar."

"I'm happy with the way things are."

"Liar."

"I'm in love with Alice." Tom's calm exterior finally shattered, the boy's voice rising to a yell as he turned on his brother. His golden eyes brimming with fury as his lips pulled into a sneer.

And Tristan's breathing was ragged, his shoulders and chest heaving as he forced the word through clenched teeth.

"Liar."

After a while Tristan stood and left, spending the night beside Jasper with quiet whispers.

And Thomas spent the night all alone, watching the leaves fall in the woods.

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