Alice x Jasper Oneshots ~~~ Twilight

First encounters.

Alice's pov: btw longgggggggggggg chapter

The chipped red vinyl booth felt like a throne today. Not a queen's throne, mind you, something more... hopeful. A fortuneteller's perhaps, one who could glimpse not just the future, but a future filled with a very specific kind of sunshine.

My vision of Jasper, tall and broad-shouldered, a ghost of weariness clinging to him like a shroud, materialized through the swinging diner door. His hair, the color of sun-bleached wheat, was slightly mussed, and his eyes - oh, those crimson eyes - held a world of pain I yearned to soothe. He scanned the room with an efficiency born of too many battles, too much bloodshed.

Betty, the perpetually harried waitress with a smile as worn as the linoleum floor, caught his eye first. "Welcome, hon.Coffee?"

"Black, please," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers dancing down my spine.

He slid into the booth across from me, a muscle in his jaw clenching with suppressed tension. I took a deep breath, willing myself to stay calm. My heart, a hummingbird trapped in my chest, threatened to burst free. This was it. The moment everything changed.

Pushing past the initial awkwardness, I rose, my black skirt whispering against the worn leather. "Excuse me," I said, my voice a melody of wind chimes - a sound I cultivated to disarm, a sound that usually worked. "Mind if I?" I gestured towards the empty seat across from him.

He looked up, surprise flickering across his guarded features. His eyes, windows to a soul drowning in shadows, held me captive for a beat too long. "Of course," he finally managed, his voice rough with disuse.

Sliding into the booth, I placed my untouched coffee cup strategically between us. "Alice," I said, extending my hand. His gaze dropped to it, then back to my face. It was a face he didn't recognize, but the warmth I projected - a beacon in his emotional storm - seemed to give him pause.

"Jasper," he responded, his calloused hand engulfing mine. The contact startled a gasp from me. It wasn't just the cool touch, but the torrent of emotions that washed over him - a maelstrom of anger, regret, and a raw, desperate yearning for something lost. My own vision of their future love, a kaleidoscope of laughter and shared dreams, bloomed even brighter against the backdrop of his despair.

"You seem... troubled," I offered gently, my voice barely above a whisper.

He flinched, pulling his hand away as if burned. "Just a long road, little one," he muttered, his eyes flickering back to the waitress approaching with his steaming coffee. "Been... places I wouldn't recommend."

"Places that made you feel... this?" I persisted, gesturing vaguely towards his chest. He stiffened, his crimson eyes narrowing. "Don't," he growled, a low tremor in his voice. "Don't get inside my head."

A small, surprised laugh bubbled up from my throat. "Oh, Jasper," I said, my voice full of amusement and a hint of something else - a promise? - "You have no idea."

He stared at me, suspicion warring with a nascent curiosity in his gaze. "What do you mean?" he demanded, his voice tight.

I took a theatrical sip of my coffee, savoring the warmth that did nothing for my eternally cold body. "Let's just say," I said, a playful glint in my eyes, "I know a lot more about you than you think."

"And you know what about this?" he countered, his voice low and dangerous. "About the things I've done, the things I can't take back?"

I met his gaze unflinchingly. "I know," I said, my voice soft yet determined, "that the future isn't set in stone. That even the darkest path can lead to something bright. We all make mistakes, Jasper. But the important thing is, do we learn from them? Can we become better versions of ourselves?"