Meet Faye Luciano, an artist, a dreamer, a fairy. Enraged after learning that the girl he loved since diapers was marrying his immortal enemy, Jacob flees Forks with nothing but his truck. Along his journey he gets stuck and meets the woman that wou...
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THIRD POV
There Jacob laid in his bed as it stormed outside. His head swirling with many thoughts. But all of them consisted of her. He couldn't help it. Every time he tried to get his mind clear it just wouldn't stop.
He didn't understand what was going on. After she'd revealed that Edward had proposed to her and she was willing to marry him his mind couldn't comprehend it. How could she look at him every day and not see the blood sucking monster he was?
He'd loved her since he was young and that still wasn't enough.
Lost in his thoughts, his head snapped up at the sound of knocking on his door. Getting up he put on a shirt and walked to the front door and was greeted by the mail man.
"Still working in this weather Tommy?", he asked as he accepted the mail.
He rolled his eyes, "You already know. Take care", and with that he was off, getting in his truck and heading to the next house just a few miles down.
Jacob ruffled his hair as he shuffled through the mail. All of it consisting of bills and advertisements. It wasn't until he got to a letter addressed to himself and Billy.
He threw the rest on the dining table and walked back to his room. He sat in his bed as he ripped the letter open.
Reading the contents of the letter he got angry. No, sad, frustrated, many emotions came at once but anger. Anger was the most prominent.
His dad came out of his room upon hearing the door open earlier and rolled towards him. Seeing Jacob shaking in his bed while looking at a piece of paper wasn't what he was expecting.
"Jake?"
That was all he needed to get up and storm out of the house and onto the storming day. He busted out the door, taking off his shirt and transforming into a wolf. Soon enough he disappeared into the forest line without saying a word to his dad.
"Jake? Jacob!", shouted Billy. But he was too late. He rolled outside and grabbed the piece of paper his son was just holding.
— ISABELLA MARIE SWAN AND EDWARD ANTHONY MASEN CULLEN
TOGETHER WITH THEIR FAMILIES REQUEST THE HONOR OF YOUR PRESENCE AT THE CELEBRATION OF THEIR MARRIAGE SATURDAY, THE THIRTEENTH OF AUGUST
TWO THOUSAND AND ELEVEN FIVE O'CLOCK IN THE EVENING
