✓ | 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍, j. hale [1]

XII. Golden

Evelyn awoke the next morning to the sound of soft snores in her ear and warm breath fanning across her face. Her eyes fluttered open, and she found herself face to face with her aunt, who was sleeping soundly. Evelyn couldn't help but smile as she sat up, her aunt's bed creaking slightly with every motion due to its age. The hazy morning glow indicative of a partly-cloudy day shined through the curtains, filtering the room with a golden-gray light.

The previous night had been rough for Marie. Waylon Forge had been a childhood friend, and his sudden death had completely devastated Evelyn's aunt. Knowing that she didn't want to be alone, she had willingly volunteered to stay with her during the night, and she had painfully listened to Marie cry and cry until her body had finally given out and she fell asleep. After everything Marie had done for her, Evelyn was more than ready to hold her grieving aunt in her arms and rock her as she cried, just as she had done for her so many times throughout her life. She could only imagine how Bella was faring with Charlie; she knew that Waylon and Charlie had been friends for decades.

Evelyn slipped quietly out of her aunt's arms and slid out of the bed and onto the cold wood floor. She was silent as she crept out of the room, careful to make sure the door didn't creak as she shut it behind her. Marie needed as much sleep as she could get after the night she had had, and since it was Saturday, it seemed fair to let her have one day to grieve, rest, and recover.

When Evelyn walked into the kitchen, she glanced at the clock on the microwave. 7:45. Jasper hadn't said when he was going to come, so she figured that she might as well shower and get ready. If he got here while she was busy, then he would just have to wait.

She showered and dressed quickly, slipping on a white t shirt and her favorite jeans while leaving her hair down to air dry in its naturally wavy, albeit frizzy, state. When she was younger, the fact that her hair wasn't perfectly straight all the time used to make her feel insecure. Now though, she loved everything about it since it reminded her of the way her mother's hair had always looked. It was one of the only physical attributes she had inherited from her mom, and although an insignificant detail, she cherished it now as a gift.

The small bathroom was silent as Evelyn concentrated very hard on applying her mascara perfectly. She was just finishing up her left eye when a sudden knock on the bathroom door made her jump and her arm jerk, swiping mascara all up her eyelid and even into her eyebrow. She groaned in frustration, tossing her makeup on the bathroom counter a little too harshly.

"Marie, you scared the crap out of me–" Evelyn began, but she cut herself off when she realized that her aunt was, in fact, not the one who had knocked on the door. Instead, Jasper stood at the threshold with an amused grin as he took in her startled expression and the smeared makeup on her face.

Evelyn noticed his eyes flicker to her eyebrow and immediately covered it with her hand. "Jasper! What are you doing in here?"

He cocked his head, confused. "I told you I was coming to get you this morning."

She rolled her eyes. "I am aware of that. I meant, what are you doing in my house?"

He shrugged, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms. Evelyn could see the muscles of his forearms even through his pale blue button up. "You didn't answer the front door, so I got curious and decided to come find you, myself."

Evelyn couldn't help but laugh at his honest innocence, shaking her head as she tuned back to the counter. She started opening drawers, rummaging through her things to find a Q-tip to fix her mascara. "Well, usually people don't just barge into someone's house when they don't answer the door. You almost gave me a heart attack, you know. And look at this!" She exclaimed, gesturing to the black streaks across the pale skin of her face.