Volcanic || Emmett Cullen [1]

T H I R T E E N

What the hell did you wear to a battle and your  potential funeral?

That was the first thought that protruded Violet Uley's mind when she awoke the morning of the battle, her hair was matted to the side of her forehead from the never ending nervous sweats she had protruded throughout the night and her body felt sluggish from her three hour sleep. The night hadn't been well for anyone under the Uley household, while Vi had spent most of the night tossing and turning--mainly centering her mind on Emmett's whereabouts, there was Emily who for the majority of the night had cried, she was a tough women but even this would break the strongest.

Her fiancee and sister in law were about to go out and fight a war along with most of the reservations teenagers. How could that not have monstrous results?

Vi felt similarly to her best friend, hence the lack of sleep, now she impatiently stood in front of her dresser, not knowing what to wear? It was almost surreal to know she could be choosing her last change of clothes and these were the last moments she could treasure the small bedroom. Her fingers paused to trail the dark cherry woods of the dresser, her eyes looking around and catching the scattered clothes.

She scolded herself for not picking up the dirty shirts earlier, there was no time now and if she were to die soon she didn't want to pain Emily or her brother further by needing to pick up after her. How would they move on if she didn't make it out? Or worse, what if Sam didn't live and she was left to pick up the broken pieces caused by her. The brunette bit her bottom lip to prevent it from quivering and she went back to the task at hand, she could hear the chatter from below her floors. The wolves were arriving, probably for a quick bite to eat. Violet had to stop herself from thinking it could quite possibly be some of their and her own last meal.

"Why the hell do I not have any clothes suited for battle?" She sarcastically said aloud, only grasping at jean shorts until finally a black pair of thick leggings came into view. There wasn't much of another option and she had a feeling she was going to need to be flexible for the coming events so she quickly threw them on. Her dark eyes cast upon a black hoodie with an awkward looking hood that she had used for sports in the past. Since it was surprisingly cold out she threw on a tight black thermal underneath it before throwing on the hoodie.

Just as her arms slid the sweater over a knock sounded at her wooden door.

"Vi?" Jake's deep voice made her jump as her door barely opened and he stepped inside. Jake never knocked, not even before they had dated and certainly not during. She didn't mind though, she was use too it.

He carried two plates full with pancakes, eggs, and back and balanced a set of cups filled with Iced Tea in the other hand. Violet forced a smile to dance across he lips at her old friend. She finished pushing the sweater over her stomach before motioning him the rest of the way in.

"Jake whats this?" The brown eyed beauty questioned as she tied her hair into a tall ponytail.

"Wow you sure haven't changed, missing the clothes hamper and all." Jake commented, pointing to the discarded pair of pajama shorts at her feet.

Violet kicked them under her bed with her boot covered foot. "You're one to talk, when's the last time you actually did laundry?"

Jake pretended to think for a moment before shrugging his shoulders to which Violet laughed and watched him plop down on her unmade bed.

"So what are you doing here Jacob? Is this a bed and breakfast?" She questioned, sitting down and putting the loose strands of her baby hair behind her ear as he pushed a warm plate into her lap and handed her a cold cup.

"You didn't come downstairs for breakfast and knowing you its probably because you're running yourself crazy with the many scenes that could happen today, plus I could tell by those purple bags under your eyes that you've already over thought it all." Jake answered her, biting into a piece of bacon casually.