Gently // jasper hale [Completed]

02.

29th May, 2001.

"we were whispered words and lingering touches. 
                               beautiful, but fleeting."

Ever since their first chance meeting, they had spent every school day in the library together. At first, Jasper just took the same seat as he did the first time he saw her, but her persistent pestering, specifically her unexpected skill at crafting paper planes to launch at him with surprising accuracy, eventually had him joining her. She'd recommend books for him to read, which he'd pretend to do while he secretly stared at her.

Sometimes, when she thought he looked too tired, she would read to him. She was articulate and gentle, caressing each word as she painted him a vivid image of the world contained in the pages. And he'd watch her, committing every little detail of her to memory. He swore he had seen nothing as beautiful as her.

"Staring is rude, you know?" She said teasingly, a smirk on her lips and her eyes still glued to the novel in her hands. Jasper had been watching her, blatantly, when he should have been finishing off an essay due next period. He couldn't manage to focus anymore, even at home. Every thought always drifted back to the girl sitting across from him.

"Works of art are created to be admired."

"Wow, Hale. Who knew you could be so cheesy?" she giggled, stretching out her leg to playfully kick his shin. He was quick to snatch her ankle, tugging her and pulling her from resting against the wall. She gasped, falling back on her elbows, book discarded beside her.

"I was being romantic, not cheesy," he scolded, positioning himself partially over her, the hand that grabbed her ankle now drifting softly up her leg, settling on her lower thigh. He could feel his eyes turning dark, the thought of her beneath him stirring something animalistic within him.

He could hear her rapid pulse and heavy panting, her eyes blown wide with surprise. He couldn't help himself. She seemed oblivious to his constant flirting, always brushing him off with sarcasm or a simple roll of her eyes. He knew she at least found him attractive, he could feel it.

He smirked devilishly at her before letting her go, returning to his place amongst his strewn notes and textbooks. She blinked at him, seemingly struggling to believe what just happened. Eventually she righted herself, noticeably sitting closer to him now, her knee against his.

"That was a real jerk move, Jasper," she muttered and picked up her book, flipping back to the page she was reading.

At the end of the day, Jasper was outside of her classroom, waiting for her just like he had since last week. It was a nice routine. He'd fetch the rest of her books and belongings from her locker, collect her when her class finished and then he'd give her a ride home. It started one day when the weather had been particularly bad, the rain was heavy and the wind bitingly cold. He had seen her pouting near the stairs, waiting for the weather to let up long enough to get to her bike without getting drenched.

He couldn't have her getting sick, he enjoyed her company too much for her to miss school. So, he offered her a ride. He convinced Emmett to take her bike in the back of his Jeep, even allowing him to make a few jabs about him being a "true southern gentleman:". 

Now, everyday he drove his own classic car to school, just so he could take her home without Alice or Emmett insisting on riding with them. He enjoyed the alone time with her.

He'd let her fiddle with the radio, searching for songs she liked just so she could sing along. He had stashed her favourite strawberry and cream candies in the glove compartment because she craved them when she was stressed. He always had a spare jacket in the back seat, because she was forgetful and would never remember to bring her own.

"Hey, handsome," she skipped from her class to greet him, a radiant smile on her lips. She just finished english, and she was excited about their newly assigned book. She had been chattering on about it all lunch break, even offering Jasper her copy of Sense and Sensibility so they could read it together in the library.

"Afternoon, ma'am," he playful tipped his imaginary hat to her, earning a delighted giggle from her.

They quickly fell into step together, arms brushing softly with every stride.

"Can you stay a bit this afternoon?" She asked, smiling up at him.

"Of course."

Daisy's home was surprisingly bare. There was a lack of personal belongings, no photos on the walls, not a single throw pillow on the dated lounge. Everything was neat and clean, but it didn't feel lived in.

"My mom works late tonight," she explained tossing her bag on the couch. "I didn't really feel like being alone."

He nodded in understanding, placing his bag and jacket by the front door, slipping off his shoes and storing them next to Daisy's sneakers.

"I'll show you my room and grab that book for you," he followed her down the hallway to the back of the house.

Her room was just how he imagined it would be. Her bed was in the centre of the room, a white metal frame with soft floral sheets and an eclectic collection of cushions. Both bedside tables were littered with novels and notebooks, a few crumbled up pages scattered on the floor. She had a small television in one corner, a VHS player connected to it. Her bookshelf was overflowing, which was no surprise. The walls were covered in framed art and photographs, bright and soft colors clashing. A few of her dresser drawers were ajar, some clothing hanging out. But it was quintessential Daisy. Messy and creative.

It was a stark contrast to the rest of the home. Her space was warm and loved, her sanctuary. He couldn't imagine her living in the rest of the house, so dull and hollow.

"Here," she scoured the bookcase before finding the one she was looking for. It was clearly one of her favourites, it looked like she had read it hundreds of times.

He took it from her and flicked open the first few pages. The borders were full of notes and little doodles, some words were highlighted and places marked with little asterisks. It was a little window into her mind, and he would read it cover to cover.

"Thank you," he smiled fondly at her. "I promise, I will read it."