𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝟏𝟓𝟎𝟎𝐬 | Jasper Whitlock ✅

its' a renesmee



Jasper's footsteps echoed lightly as he walked down the hallway toward his shared room. He was hoping to change his shirt before the group headed out to hunt. The shirt he was wearing was one of the ones Dorothea had gifted him—a reminder of the times before their fight. She had always liked him in it, and it had become one of his favorites for that reason.

When he reached the door and opened it, he was met with an unexpected sight. There, in the middle of the room, Dorothea stood, her back to him as she perused the bookshelf. The moment their eyes met, both of them froze. Jasper's heart gave a jolt. She hadn't stepped foot in their room since their argument, and seeing her here—standing so close, yet so far away—made his emotions surge in ways he hadn't prepared for.

Dorothea blinked, her cheeks flushing slightly as she awkwardly dropped her gaze. "I-I... I was just looking for something," she stammered, her voice softer than usual. The distance between them seemed to grow even though they were in the same room.

The words she'd just spoken barely registered, as he couldn't quite focus on anything other than the fact that she was here, in their room. Dorothea was speaking to him. She was standing there, with him, and a wave of happiness washed over him. He didn't need to say it, but he couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. He quickly fought it back, not wanting to seem too eager or relieved, but it was impossible to hide.

"This was your room before it became ours, darlin'," Jasper said, his voice a soft drawl as the familiar pet name slipped out naturally. He felt his dead heart rate quicken. She hadn't called him anything close to that in what felt like forever.

Dorothea's eyes flickered at him briefly, and she tried to mask the flush feeling that flitted across her face. Her posture was stiff, but she still didn't move from the bed, sitting there as if every part of her was unsure of what to do. Jasper walked past her, pretending that the rush of emotions inside him wasn't affecting him as he reached for his spare shirt on the chair near the bed.

The silence stretched on as he changed his shirt. Dorothea sat quietly on the edge of the bed, a book resting on her lap that she wasn't really reading. Her gaze kept flickering between the pages and him as if she couldn't quite decide whether to look at him or not. The air felt heavy with all the things they hadn't said, all the space they had put between them. It felt like an eternity, both of them trying to find the right words, but neither dared to break the silence first.

When he finished changing, their eyes met again. The awkwardness was palpable, but neither of them said anything. There was so much left unsaid, but the weight of it hung between them like an unspoken truth.

"...Be careful," Dorothea's voice broke the silence, soft and fragile, her words barely above a whisper. Jasper's gaze softened, and he held her eyes for a long moment, searching for any hint of something that might tell him how to fix this, how to make it right.

After a long pause, he finally nodded. "I will," he replied, his voice low but sincere.

Before he could take another step, he paused mid-stride. Something inside him wouldn't let him leave without doing this. He turned back toward her, he crossed the room in two strides. Without saying a word, he bent down and placed a soft kiss on the top of her head. The gesture was simple, but it carried the weight of everything they hadn't said, everything they had lost.

Dorothea didn't move, didn't flinch. She simply sat there, her eyes closing as the warmth of his kiss lingered on her skin. Jasper lingered for a moment longer, his chest tight with the emotions he couldn't express, before finally stepping back, giving her one last look.