#Jaster Hale imagine

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Meeting you

Chapter 1 : Shadows were lurking in the night

A Jasper Hale Fanfiction series

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Part one, Part two, Part three, Part four,

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Author's note: Hi :) So this is the very first chapter where something really happens. I hope you'll like it. It was reworked and everything!

Warning: Sexism, slow-burn romance.

Words: 3577

Mr. Loverman - Ricky Montgomery

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1925

Sitting in a park at the last hour of the day as the sun slowly goes under the trees' limit, drowning the world in shadows. (Y/N) was enjoying a book before having to move to a less visible place to exist. She was not one to linger in one place for too long, and it's already been way too long that she'd been sitting on the bench already. While a woman alone in those years was not as strange as when (Y/N) was still a child, it was not yet the norm. And it had been a long while since then.

Darkness did not bother her as much as it did others. There was rarely something worse than what she was lurking about in the nighttime. Therefore, (Y/N) didn't usually bother with what people thought of her. She would sit wherever she liked, and that would be it. As a result, not many people came to bother her while reading her book when the sun started to come down from his throne up high.

That led to how right now, (Y/N) was still sitting on her bench, at nearly nine in the afternoon, reading a book with only the streetlight's help. She did not need any light to read. Her eyes were better than those of most humans. However, she'd smelled a man lurking in the park some thirty minutes earlier and felt his gaze on her multiple times since then. A policeman, she'd figured. His emotions weren't powered by adrenaline but more by worry. He'd walked in circles for some time before he decided to approach her. 

She closed her book as he did so. The woman couldn’t decide if it was because the policeman grew courageous -or foolish- enough to walk up to her. It was irritating, yet, amusement washed through her as he stood mere centimetres away from her. The officer's worry came to the woman in a wave that met her like water met your feet at the beach. It washed over her, bringing everything she felt to a second plan. He stopped in front of her, not speaking for a while as if he was assessing her. While she didn't need to breathe, the fresh air in her lungs -the air (Y/N) took in to speak- gave her a light-headed feeling that cleared her thoughts from the anxiety that was shaking her to her core. But the iron smell coming from the man-made her throat ache painfully, and the venom started pooling in her mouth.

She'd have to go hunting in the next few days, or the thirst would take control of her actions.

"Miss, you should head home, the streets... The streets ain't safe at this time a-night." He said with a smile, offering the woman a hand to help her back to her feet. "Do your Da know where you are?"

(Y/N) was good at ignoring the pain the iron-like smell of blood gave her. And so, she ignored the burning ache that made her mind scream for violence and the sudden over-spill of venom that drenched her mouth before she spoke. Instead, the seemingly young woman smiled in the policeman's direction, accepting his hand. That way, her covered fingers would not be cold against his skin. She directed her attention to the worry he was radiating, like small needles piercing through her lungs. 

"I live just across the street, officer. I appreciate your kindness." Then, as he didn't make any move to leave her, (Y/N) added: "I'll head home now." She was careful not to show too many teeth in her smile, as it always made the humans uncomfortable. And she knew that the sombre time of twilight was accentuating her features in ways she didn’t always appreciate. 

Seemingly satisfied with her answer, the policeman tipped his hat in her direction and turned to continue his round. (Y/N) rolled her eyes toward the star's illuminated sky. She patted the green just-under-the-knees-length dress she wore for the day to clean it from the dust it might have collected before walking in the direction she gave the policeman. His wariness was still clinging to the back of her neck, and she couldn't shake it off her. (Y/N) closed her eyes, concentrating on something else for a while—the wind on her cheeks or the overly-sweet smell of flowers bordering the road. Anything really to try and overcome the emptiness burning in her belly. And the buzzing irritation coming from the building she was sensing rolled over her shoulder. 

The woman was lodging in an all-girl house, paying about ten dollars a month. It was expensive, especially for the room she had, but everything was expensive since the war. Most of the girls (Y/N) lived with were either nurses or girls from the street. She was a teacher. Fresh out of university, seemingly naïve and full of dreams, (Y/N) taught small children from age five to twelve in a private school. Soon she'll have to move out and change the town, but it was calm and lovely for the moment.

(Y/N) liked children for their creativity and their open mind. They didn't ask many questions about why she was so pale, why she was so cold, why her eyes were a weird shade of yellow, or why she looked about their older sisters' age. They all were too busy learning and playing around. Sure, sometimes older boys -the older brothers- tame everywhere and asked about her, trying to make her leave with them. Some even peeving for her to court them, but the woman never gave in.

She didn't like mingling with humans more than was necessary. After all, it was already harder enough to teach -most days- with her condition. (Y/N) didn't want to get in trouble. She'd seen once what power and human could do together. In her experience, it seemed to always end in ashes. Esther liked to remind her that humans were quick to pass on, and there was still a new one to take their place, but it didn’t calm the grief in (Y/N)’s mind. 

The lodging-house had strict rules. No men were allowed inside. Every girl was to be asleep -or at least in their rooms, for the tenth hour of the night. (Y/N) was paying an extra dollar, so the house's matron would turn a blind eye to her nocturnal whereabouts. She'd said that the war had made her insomniac to win herself some pity points. And it wasn't a lie per se. The war had messed her up bad enough to give her living nightmares. Not that the matron needed to know about her inability to sleep anyways. The burning sensation in her throat had nothing to do with the emotions people in the building were feeling. (Y/N) could only sigh. It was nearly eleven at night now, and she was already inside. The woman figured she could stay inside for today. Hunting would have to wait until the next day.

(Y/N) removed her gloves before leaving the lodging-house hall and entering the corridor leading to the rooms. The heavy, gloomy miasma of jealousy and envy made the woman uneasy about staying, at first. It wasn’t unusual for her to sense those emotions, but the constant weight of it was harder to ignore, a little more with each passing day. She knew why the other women felt like that. Toward each other, toward her. It matters in the end. Something was always better in someone else than in yourself. 

She took a small breath, rolling her shoulders to make them seem less tense than they were, and blinked a couple of times to implant the movement as natural to her body. ‘Practice makes perfect, had always said Azaria, and (Y/N) liked to make a good performance. 

(Y/N) could hear the matron's angry steps on the staircase's wood floor. The suffocating feeling of rage and jealousy and emptiness flowed through the woman, overwhelming her like a raging sea would an unprepared boat before she could classify the emotion as if they were information taken from a book. The woman could hear the matron closing the door of the house above the lodging house behind her as she made her way down. With each approaching step, (Y/N) could also feel the irritation she was feeling, hugging her ribcage in a tight iron-like grip, jealousy making her dead heart drop to her heels. The woman placed a surprised expression on her face and redied her jumps for when the matron would barge in the hallway. When (Y/N) turned around, she met the matron's blood-blotched face in anger and she dropped her head in a kind and respectful curtsy.

Mrs. Gordon was a woman in her late forty or early fifties. She was well-rounded and small—her form indicating the bearing of a trail of children in her prime years. But now, the smiling face had gone. A pinched mouth and piercing eyes were in its place that tried to read the information inside your skull every second—searching to catch you in a lie.

"I arranged so that your sister could sleep in your room for the time being. But she'll have to pay for her stay. It's not a whorehouse here." (Y/N)'s brows raised for a quarter of a second, too fast for the matron to see, at her assumption. But, of course, it wasn't called a whorehouse. However, God only knew what kind of things some girls did when the matron wasn't listening.

But what, sister? Thought the woman. Nervously, her now bare fingers met the ancient and heavy-looking golden locket shining at her neck as she started to fiddle with it. Still, she nodded, putting on a thankful face. She didn't have any plans with Esther, and Thade had yet to send her a letter about his whereabouts.

(Y/N) could try, but she couldn't see who was passing for her sister at this hour, so late at night, in this day and age. She didn't know many people, let alone women, with the same condition as her.

Anger rose in the woman's chest from the pit of her stomach until it burned in her cheeks, yet no blood rushed to her face. Contrarily to the matron, standing in front of her, whose cheeks were now a dark red. The matron's eyes were dark with fury. "Should it happen again, I would like you to be like every girl living under this house and tell me beforehand."

(Y/N)'s hand went to her head as she removed the pin that held her small hat attached to her hair. The updo was still tightly tied together, but the little green hat was all dirty from her walk from the school ground to the park. Leaves and small branches had caught it with the wind, leaving little trinkets of their passage there.

"Of course, Mrs. Gordon. It won't happen again." (Y/N) promised, flashing a kind smile to the woman before her. She passed her on the staircase to make her way to her room, and soon enough, the anger she was feeling was replaced by a strangling excitement.

It was refreshing, nearly cold in her insides. Contrasting wildly with how stuffy (Y/N) was feeling seconds ago with Mrs. Gordon. The lump in her throat was making it hard to breathe, or would make it hard if she'd need it. But at the same time, she felt like a swarm of bees had taken her brain hostage. Her hand could only turn the golden door handle from the red-painted door of her room before something cool caught her hand and pulled her inside. The door closed harshly behind her. The blur surrounding (Y/N) was the only sign of how fast everything was.

"I'm so glad I finally got to meet you!" A feminine voice whispered the words in her ear. Shock throbbed throughout (Y/N)'s body, rippling on her nerves like water disrupted by a rock.

The girl who hugged her was not letting go, and her emotions came crashing into the other woman's body, hard. A feeling of unconditional love overcame (Y/N); hot between her ribs, she tugged the girl closer to her dead heart. The girl before her was seemingly floating in a pool of happiness and comfort. (Y/N)'s head was swimming in dizziness she hadn't felt since she was still a human. Or at least, she didn’t remember feeling it in the after. Yet, even if she didn't know who the girl was, she let her out of her arms begrudgingly.

A warm feeling in the pit of her stomach made her uncomfortable. It was as if she should know the girl standing in front of her. Yet the fact that she could place her as someone she recognized brought the homesick feeling of being empty and in unknown territories more present. 

Even if she didn't need it, (Y/N) gasped. The overwhelming emotions still held her calm with the breath of air she took. The younger girl in front of her wore a bashful smile as they separated.

 The twinkling of her eyes made something burn with comforting flames in (Y/N)'s stomach. And the waves of uneasiness returned, colliding into her even harder. 

"I'm sorry to be this improper. I'm Alice." A hand extended in front of (Y/N). 

The woman assessed the one standing in front of her. They were nearly the same height. (Y/N) was about three inches taller than Alice. The younger woman had her dark brown hair cut short, pale like death herself, and her eyes were blood red, unlike (Y/N)'s, who had golden eyes.

"I'm..."

"(Y/N), I know." Giggled Alice. "I saw you months ago." (Y/N) frowned again. Her marble-like face went from calm to bother, like an ancient statue suddenly taking life, unmovable and fixed in a serious expression while she integrated all the information. The soft furrow of her brows and the pout of her mouth cooled the usual warmth of her face. Her hand loosened the grip she had on the other girl's hand. 

Saw her, had they met before? She asked precisely that.

"Oh, no. I'm like you, see. Well, not exactly like you, but I too have a... gift." So said Alice, a crooked smile tugging on her lips as she played with the hem of her dress.

It was a simple dress, a decade older and too big for the girl. As if she'd gotten it from a hand-me-down boutique. The dress seemed well-worn already, and the colour had faded a little. If (Y/N)squinted, she could see a hole in the left sleeve; Alice had stuck her thumb in it.

(Y/N) would have thought Alice was from the little people, a fae or something in the like of it if she didn't know better. Alice had hesitated on the word gift as if she wasn't sure it was the proper term to use. (Y/N) nodded, forcing a smile on her lips, and gestured toward the small table her room was graced with, placed between her bed and the large window. Alice smiled brightly, taking the seat she was offered before continuing her monologue.

"My gift is to see the future or at least a glimpse of what could happen if someone chose to do a certain action." 

Again, (Y/N) nodded. She wasn't sure to understand what the more petite girl wanted to say, but she tried her best, and for that, (Y/N) was not going to discredit her. She could see that the short-haired girl struggled to put in words what she was capable of doing, and the woman thought about how she would explain her capabilities. Not as eloquently as Alice, that was for sure. 

The woman undid her hair from the severe bun she had worn all day until this ungodly hour into the night. The ancient-looking, heavy golden pin that held it throughout the day came to rest on the table where both girls sat. It'd been a gift many years ago, and (Y/N) held on to it religiously. Alice was talking fast, so fast that (Y/N) wasn't sure she understood every word.

"How did you find me?" She asked, finally. Her finger ran through her hair to make sure any remaining knots would leave, letting the brown-ish locks cascade on her shoulders, covering the front of her dress. 

While she lived like a human, she wasn't exactly the most out-going person there was. Not only because she was relatively new in the United States and didn't know many people, but also because of what she was. And still, tension was still holding the world by the scruff of the neck. Nobody was as trustful toward strangers since the war. 

The woman had difficulty figuring out just what had given her out for Alice to find her. It did seem like Alice had followed her for a while. But how had she found her location in the first place? Even if the small, fae-like girl had the gift of prophecy, that didn't make (Y/N) any more tricky for any other enemies to find her too. Had she any enemies? Had she done anything to make some enemies? 

Alice seemed to see the other girl's concerns because a heaviness settled inside her, just on top of her lungs. (Y/N) could feel it too, and she took in a sharp breath. The sadness was a quick passing emotion and was soon replaced by sheepish guilt. The feeling of a feather slowly floating down inside of (Y/N)’s brain overtook her worries. 

"In my visions, you're always surrounded by small children, so I figured you worked in a school or as a nanny. I looked for signs that would tell me where you lived. Then, when I saw the name of the town, I took a train." The girl was decent enough to feel remorse about that last thing. It made (Y/N) giggle. Alice looked like someone's little sister, sneaking around to see who her older sibling would run around with.

She reminded her of Eliott. 

(Y/N)'s ring ornate hand came to play with the locket once again. She took in Alice's appearance. Passing the unmistakable vampire look and her petite frame, Alice -(Y/N) decided- was more beautiful than cute. She had a sharp look in her eyes, and her body was slim. Her hairs were cut unevenly, almost as if they had been forced over her by someone. Over her black dress, definitely too big for her, Alice wore a shawl covering her neck in the same fashion (Y/N) covered her left arm's wrist. Unfortunately, she didn't seem to own any jewels or make-up, so her face did look deadly pale, and she had no way of covering it.

Both girls talked in low voices until the sun made the sky look like a blood-soaked painting. (Y/N) learned what brought Alice to her near the end of the night. She saw that her future was intertwined with hers in one way or another. While they -well, mostly Alice- talked, the other woman decided something about the smaller one. She resembled a pixie. Her sweet but chaotic energy was refreshing in those after-war times when everybody was exceptionally sad.

"I should prepare for my day now..." said (Y/N) while glancing at the sky from the window. She felt Alice's sadness, but she made it look like there was nothing. Yet, the bittersweet taste that lasted on her tongue lingered. "We'll see each other tonight again?"

The question left (Y/N)'s lips before she could stop it, with the face Alice gave her and the sudden burst of butterflies in her stomach, the woman wasn't too sad about it.

"Can you show me where you hunt?" Asked Alice, her eyes full of stars. The other girl was taken aback. In Montana, the town of Kalispell was small, and while the forest was close by, (Y/N) had never hunted with people since she started feeding on animals instead of humans. And it had been years since she started doing so. She preferred to hunt alone and have her peace of mind.

The idea came to her when she heard her creator speaking about the letters. She was exchanging with a member of the Volturi who discovered it possible to survive by feeding on animals. While the process did not entice Azaria, (Y/N) was thrilled to find the new. But, of course, this was all before Azaria's fall.

(Y/N)'s eyes met Alice's once more.

"If you want to, I'm not against it." The small pixie-like girl smiled and opened the door of (Y/N)'s room.

"I'll meet you this afternoon after your classes then?" The young woman nodded, smiling gently as the smaller one skipped down the stairs. She flashed past Mrs. Gordon, who shot her a glare before eyes (Y/N), waiting at the top of the stairs. The angry look the matron gave her was significantly less than the emotion the woman felt. (Y/N) could swear she would die a second time by all the stuffiness she felt in her chest.