Bella Swan hated change—unfortunate considering how susceptible her life was to it. Like a curse, an intruder, or a shadow, it followed her every step. From her parents' divorce, to the lengthy court battles, and now to Seattle Airport, Bella forgot what it felt like to have a peaceful breath.
Though, that wasn't entirely true. Bella often reminisced simpler times in secrecy. Long summer days spent dashing through sprinklers with her dad while her mom complained they'd get mud in the house once they were done. Occasional rainy car rides where all she'd do for hours was race water droplets down the window. Or her favorite, long hunts with her dad, sitting up in the trees and scaring away the game with their constant joke competitions.
The elevator chime tugged her back to reality, away from the few memories she looked back on through rose-tinted glasses. Bella's shoes squeaked against the pretty tiled floors, her baggage rolling behind her. She pushed the brown locks falling from her ponytail behind her pale ears and yawned into her palm. The four hours of travel wore her down more than she anticipated, but at least she dressed for the occasion—simple grey sweats, floppy comfortable sneakers, and an oversized Amon Amarth hoodie her dad got her for her 17th birthday.
The young woman glided with the crowd, flowing through a long white corridor with sunlight streaming through the windows. Behind them, planes roared as they ascended into the air. Bella pawed at the phone in her pocket, checking to confirm it was still secure. She monitored the people around her on their journey. A woman spoke angrily on the phone as the clack of her heels echoed in the long hall. Two kids giggled and laughed, weaving between people and baggage while their parents tried keeping up. Three men were barely awake, one practically dozing while his feet dragged behind him. Dozens more all around her, each with a story of their own, each with plans and aspirations that make them stand out. The only thing that connected them was their destination. Even as swarms of people from other flights mixed in like a shot of vodka to a beverage, their current didn't sway to a new wind.
The front doors towered above them with beautifully tempered green glass, opening for the front waves of people, inviting them all to the new world.
Bella Swan stepped out into the Seattle air, a soft breeze churning down the long stretch of gently curved road. She moved to the sidelines as the current of people passed her by, her green eyes scanning the pick-up car line. Picturesque stone designs clashed with the shiny teslas, huge blue transport busses, and beaten-up family cars. Her eyes caught blues, greys, and reds, but she failed to find the green car her dad told her would be waiting. Then, just when she moved to fish for her phone, she heard him.
"Belladonna!"
Her head snapped up in the direction of Jacob Black's voice. He stood by a small car, waving his hand to catch her attention. The chilly sunlight contrasts his skin, making him radiant like a warm moon. His black hair was as messy and matted as ever, and she was sure she could see a twig or two sticking out from his head. Jacob wore a long-sleeve green linen shirt, its triangular neckline fastened by a black thread, and simple brown pants. Forest boy, as always.
Bella grinned as bright as the Arizona sun she left behind, letting go of her baggage handle and rushing toward his outstretched arms. He welcomed her into them and held her tightly, resting his chin on her head. They stayed like that for a long, quiet moment before Bella rubbed Jacob's arm as a signal to break apart. She wiped the beads of tears away from her eyes, happy to see her friend again.
"Long time no see, Dog Boy."
"My nickname for you is still better," Jacob teased, a sparkle in his golden brown eyes.
"You didn't give me much to work with," she hummed back with a sassy shrug to her shoulders. Jacob feigned getting shot by her mocking, dramatically falling back against the car. With a playfully disappointed shake of her head, Bella popped open the backseat door and poked her head in. "Hi, Mr. Black!"
"Glad I haven't been forgotten as the chauffeur," Billy Black chuckled, leaning his arm against the driver's seat to steady himself. He sat in the passenger's seat of the car with his jacket covering his legs.
"Never, Mr. Black. You're too unforgettable. Special! Unique!" she chirped.
"You're on thin ice, Ms. Swan!" he joked with a bustle of laughter. Mr. Black stretched out to pat her shoulder with a big, calloused hand. He looked so much like Jacob—the strong, curved nose, square face, golden brown eyes, and thick black hair. But where his son got his soft cheekbones, low brows, and round chin from his mom, Billy Black kept an alert gaze, square chin, and prominent bone structure all to himself.
Bella slid her backpack off her shoulders and set it down in the backseat, looking at the empty driver's seat with a longing twisting in her green eyes. A knot pulled her heart into her stomach and pinned it down as it struggled against the pull. "Hey, Mr. Black? Where's my dad?" she asked, jutting her chin at the driver's seat.
Billy Black pulled back, turning his body towards the road and starting the car. The young woman tilted her head quizzically as questions sprouted in her mind. She never knew Mr. Black to be elusive or reserved, and though she felt deep in her soul the reason wasn't that he was unwilling to tell her the truth, Bella couldn't help her mother's image coming to mind.
"Domestic issue popped up in town. He told us to go ahead and pick you up," Jacob explained in his dad's silence, placing her baggage into the trunk and shutting it in one smooth motion. Bella frowned but loaded into the backseat as Jacob hopped into the driver's side by his dad. They closed their doors in unison, a soft click ringing in their ears as Mr. Black locked the car.
"Does that happen often in Forks?"
"Domestic issues? How should I know?" he quipped.
"Crime rate isn't high in Forks, Ms. Swan. It's just unpredictable," Mr. Black told her, smacking his son upside the head. The boy whined but kept his protests to himself, relinquishing to typing the directions home.
"Even with minors driving cars?" she teased.
Jacob buckled in and glanced at Bella through the rearview mirror, with a smile glimmering in his eyes. "Hey! I've got my license!"
"And have you been driving for six months?"
The silence told her all she needed to know. Bella hummed, leaning back in her seat in victory as Jacob racked his brain to think of a comeback. Mr. Black turned around mischievously and raised his brows.
"If the police ask, you're my daughter, and Jacob is driving the family home," he chuckled.
And despite everything in her life, despite all the changes that overwhelmed her in just a few weeks, Bella Swan found herself smiling to see what came next.
"Home sweet home!" Jacob hummed, hopping out of the car to fetch his dad's wheelchair from the trunk. Bella woke from her slumber with a jolt and a yawn, bumping her forehead against the cold window. She hissed in response and rubbed at the point of impact sleepily.
The autumn cold seeped into her bones and skin, bringing a slight pink tint to her nose and cheeks. It opened her droopy eyes and chilled away the snugness of sleep. Bella blew warm air onto her fingers as she looked out her window. Her eyes widened in awe, her hands moving absentmindedly to the handle. The young girl stepped out of the car and shivered as the breeze nipped at her skin.
She stood at the base of a small black cottage, watching the yellow leaves brush against its white rims. A stone path split the small front yard—speckled with browns, reds, and oranges between the freshly cut grass. The sunlight danced along the windows like starlight, glittering and shimmering with a soft gold. An overgrown porch used to house pretty white rails but now clings to its green vines. The stairs that led from the path to the front door were broad, with steps in the middle that abruptly turned into two ramps on both sides. Bella's eyes glide across the wooden siding to the slanted triangular roof and then up to the brick chimney. She guessed it was probably just decoration and that the structure itself wasn't actual brick, but she had no way of knowing.
Bella felt a tap on her arm, but she was too immersed in the sight of her new home to register it. She stood in a haze where the outside world disappeared in the fog. The sunlight didn't pierce Mr. Black's hair as he rolled up beside her; it only shimmered against the house. That room above the porch, with an empty basket for flowers hanging on the window, must've been hers.
Her new room.
Everything she had done for years now was to get to this moment. The dream she thought wasn't for her but rather for some other teenage girl, someone smarter and kinder. Even when the court returned their verdict and gave her dad full custody, Bella didn't dare believe it.
It was real now.
This was real. The sunlight, the wooden walls, the glittering glass, the green grass, the room, everything was real. Was this really what she wanted? There was no going back now. No more Arizona, no more blazing heat, no more long walks looking out at nothing but flat expanses of houses.
Did she want this?
She couldn't snap out of it until someone took her hand. Bella jolted up, her eyes sliding down to Jacob's dad, holding her hands in his own.
"Welcome home, Ms. Swan." Mr. Black spoke gently, his eyes reflecting his tender words. Bella's stomach boiled with dread, the steam and pressure rising in her chest. She squeezed his hand and faced the uncertain beast in front of them.
Jacob came up beside her with a faint smile, taking her other hand. He had her backpack slung over his shoulder and her baggage under his arm.
"Can you still move with one hand?" Bella carefully asked Mr. Black, her eyes falling on his wheelchair. She knew from her messages with Jacob about his struggles with diabetes, but she could only remember the man who put her up on his shoulders and hopped into a fishing boat with her on any occasion. It never settled in, not until now, that though the man she knew was not gone, he was not the same as in her childhood memories.
She supposed that was true with everyone she would meet.
"I've got a good arm. Stop stalling," Mr. Black chuckled.
Bella chuckled, a serene smile creeping onto her face. "You got me," she muttered and built her confidence to take that first step. Her legs felt like concrete blocks, and the air burned like acid in her nose. Bella pulled her foot up despite it all. Step by step, her body grew stronger against the strain until she didn't struggle to climb the stairs.
The door posed no threat, opening without complaint. Bella moved through the wood-styled house like a phantom. She silently passed through rooms with her dad's minimalist decore and phased around the furniture—wood accented with light greys and beiges. Open spaces with a few sprouts of green here or there filled her vision as her hands reached for the staircase.
On the walls were her childhood photos, some family pictures hanging with her mother folded out of the frame. Bella's fingers grazed over them like soft feathers as they led her to her room. It was decorated in the same style as the rest of the house, with a beige bed tucked into the right corner of the square room. What immediately caught her attention was the huge bay window overlooking the serene, wooded neighborhood. A simple white curtain rested brushed off to the side—trapped by the curl of a wooden hook.
Bella crawled onto the cool wood and sat down with her feet hanging over the edge of the seat. She pressed her cheek against the glass in an effort to peek around the street's bend, only catching eye of the neighbor's neatly kept house surrounded by shallow woods.
"Please don't fall outta there," Jacob pleaded with a light, playful tone. He set her baggage and backpack down against the wall and tried pushing his fringe out of his eyes, only to find his hand stuck in his own locks.
The young woman rolled her eyes and shuffled to the edge of the seat, watching Jacob struggle in amusement. "It's secured, Dog Boy," she chuckled.
"Are you gonna HELP?!"
"Your fault for not brushing in the morning. What did you do, run through the woods at 40 miles per hour?" Bella quipped, her feet swishing beneath her.
Jacob froze in his place, his fingers trapped by tangled locks of dark hair. He laughed a little too hard and pulled at his hand with a little too much force. Bella's brow cocked up at the pained expression on his face, baffled by this response.
"Are you... ok-"
"YES. I'M GREAT! WHY WOULDN'T I BE?"
"Ok, ok, I get we haven't spoken face-to-face in a long time, but I'm not that scary, am I?" Bella asked with a shaky laugh. A chattering fear ran long fingers down her spine, causing her shoulders to rise like the crest of a wave to her ears.
"Scary- Yes- well no-" Jacob tugged his hand out of his hair, tossing sprinkles of moss all over Bella's floor. Apologies shot from his mouth like fast arrows as Jacob crouched to clean up after his mistake. Patiently, Bella let him gather himself with every piece and stayed silent once he spoke. "I'm not scared of talking face-to-face. You're just the same as always, trust me. It's not that. It's..."
He straightened, unaffected by the thankfully tall ceiling despite his towering 6'7 height. Jacob stared absentmindedly at the delicate moss chunks in his palms, their soft green contrasting the little scars and calluses on his skin. "...it's that I don't want you running from one set of troubles into another, bigger shitstorm."
"I don't remember you being so sentimental," Bella mumbled. Her lips glued together with thick cement and dried shut, leaving her speechless and fidgeting in her comfort.
"Just promise not to go out at night."
His words rang clear as bells in the silence, slamming against the walls—the enclosure too small to contain them. But this warning wasn't heartfelt, wasn't warm and soft, it was cold and clammy with sweat and fear. The cement fell away from Bella's mouth as she latched onto her target.
"Why?" She stood from the seat when she got no response, her green eyes gleaming as she prowled forward slowly. Bella raised one accusing finger and pointed it at a nervous Jacob. "What are you hiding?"
"BELLA!"
Her dad's voice stopped her dead in her tracks, all critical thinking leaving with the brush of the wind. Jacob snatched opportunity between his claws and leapt to action. He ran from the room shouting his goodbyes, blaming it on his dad calling him, and disappeared from the young woman's view.
She couldn't follow, standing motionless as she heard a second pair of footsteps racing up the stairs. The rich aroma of fresh cedar wafted into her nose before he came barreling through her door to announce his arrival. Her dad braced his arm against the threshold, coming to a sudden halt upon seeing her.
He'd grown older since the last time she saw him, grey hairs sprouting along his hairline. How long had it been? Years at this point, since she was twelve when the court gave full custody to her mother... five years. Charles Swan grew out his mustache and shaved the beard she remembered braiding when she was a little girl. Standing in front of him, she realized how much they had in common. Throughout her childhood, Bella always looked similar to her mom, but now that she was 17, she could point out her strong facial shape, jawline, and sloped nose on her dad's face. The differences were stark too—how his chin squared in while hers jutted out, how his eyes were brown and cloaked by his thick brows while hers were green and round, and her brows slender as if painted on a doll's face, or how Bella undoubtedly got her thin lips from her mother.
Her words dried like water from the deserts she left behind, and Charles didn't seem to be doing much better. They stayed frozen in time as the world melted away. Their deep exhales hung between them on stagnant air, their cold bodies pushing back on warm sunlight.
With a gulp of cold sand through her teeth, Bella opened her mouth and breathed for what felt like the first time in her life. "Dad."
"Bella," he whispered back at her, face breaking as he shattered the ice in his bones. Charles threw his arms around his daughter as if the tide could pull her away from him, and she held onto him like her life depended on it.
Their hearts exploded in flames, spreading a comforting warmth throughout their limbs. The world no longer felt so dark and empty. It was full, it was as full and as safe as their long-awaited embrace. For long, long minutes, time passed them by as the song of their heartbeats or the tender grasp of their hands on each other.
Even as they separated, Charles's hands went to cup Bella's face. She didn't even notice when that happened, too caught in the moment of serenity. Years of weight lifted from her shoulders, raising her to a light nirvana she couldn't explain or describe. The world ceased its disorienting spin, and the butterflies could travel in peace for the first time in centuries. He gently wiped away the trails of her tears as she closed her eyes, kissing her head.
"Welcome home, my Little Viper."
"Pfft- Not so little anymore, Dad," Bella chuckled.
Sunlight kissed a new life into Charles's eyes as he took in how much she'd grown. His daughter was taller than he remembered, which should've been a given. Clearly, she inherited his shorter stature, though he managed to beat her at her own game. "To me, you'll always be my little girl."
"Cliche."
"Count on it," he laughed. Their warm moment stilled as they broke apart. Colors drained from their vibrant state, and reality settled in like a pond moments after its ripples fade. "I'm sorry I wasn't at the airport."
Reality, as Bella knew it, was kinda a bitch.
She shook her head, clinging onto the embers of their campfire. She just got here. There was no way in hell she'd let reality sink in that quickly. "Make it up to me," Bella hummed with a wide, painted grin.
Her dad chuckled, placing his thumb against his chin. He pondered for a dramatically long moment before snapping his fingers. Those embers rekindled a warm fire, Charles' and Bella's hands shielding it from the frigid winds.
"You still like pancakes, Little Viper?"
"Fuck yeah."
"Language," Charles chided with a tone as light as spring, shaking his finger in her face. Bella rolled her eyes, feigning annoyance as she crossed her arms and propped herself against the wall by her hip.
"Hell yeah," she amended. Nothing could've made her happier than seeing her dad theatrically rub his temples and play along. Bella couldn't help but compare, even though she tried to stop herself vehemently.
Coming home to her mother was filled with turbulent arguments and relentless shouting. Bella and her mother never seemed to have a simple conversation. They were opposite forces within the home, with Bella's life revolving around quiet places, deep interactions, and callus planning, while her mother craved lights, camera, and action. To say her mother was the blizzard to her deep, chilly anger was an understatement.
Was this everything she missed out on?
Was this how her life should've gone from the very beginning?
"You haven't changed a bit, Bella," her dad laughed, tugging her back into the present.
She gave him a cheeky grin and shoved her memories aside. Not like she needed them anymore, she was gone. Like the first berry of summer, Bella found herself reborn. "I feel like my vocabulary's developed a little, no?"
"Don't push it, Viper," he snorted. "C'mon down. I have someone who would love to meet you. He's sweet, he likes tennis balls, he's fluffy, and he's got little black spots all over his fur as if he ran through soot fields or the forest. Or maybe both."
"I've already said hi to Jacob, Dad."
The two of them laughed like no one was listening, like it was only happiness forever, like the world wasn't around at all. Charles led them out with his heart in his palms and his head in the clouds. His daughter was home.
His daughter was home.
Bella Swan watched him practically skip down the hall to the stairwell. She had never before felt her breath come and leave so effortlessly. Nothing was the same here; everything had changed in such rapid succession. It left her in a warm state of shock, standing there in her room. Her new room, with her new curtains, her new bed, her new wardrobe...
And oddly enough, Bella Swan didn't hate it. Not even a little bit.