Take 103. And... action!
Bella and Jasper sat on the couch in Jasper's flat. The coffee table was cluttered with old beer bottles and an ashtray was filled with stubbed-out cigarettes. The cream coloured moon lit one part of the large room while the kitchen light behind them lit another, the two lights crawling along the floor to meld together, black shadows stalking the edges in some places. A tall body was hunched over, elbows resting on knees while a pair of hands cradled a head, parts of fingers slipping through dark blonde hair. Blue eyes were lowered to the floor, frustration in a youthful face making lines appear in a forehead.
"I don't want you to be with Edward," Jasper muttered, breaking the silence that hung over them like a boulder threatening to crush them. Bella gave a short, incredulous laugh, her eyes rolling in disbelief.
"Of course you don't, it's not you. God forbid me being happy with someone other than you."
"That is not true." Jasper's voice filled with umbrage. He lifted his head to meet the brunette's gaze. "I don't care who you love," he noticed Bella's eyebrow hike in scepticism. "But I will not stand by and stay quiet if you are unhappy." Please give me another chance."
"What makes you believe I'm unhappy?"
"You came here tonight for a reason. You could've easily told me no but you agreed to see me."
Bella shook her head, a small bitter smile playing around the corner of her lips. "You think you know me so well, that you know everything." Bella stood up and began pacing in front of the couch. "Jesus, Jasper, you really want to talk about unhappiness? How about you, clinging to our dead relationship and trying to sabotage my perfectly happy one? Now, that to me doesn't sound like a man happy with himself. Or maybe that's how you find pleasure in your life now, you drag down and destroy everyone you knows life until they're miserable."
The blonde's fist landed on the wooden table in anger, rattling the many bottles, and she startled at the unexpected action. "How dare you. Do not paint me as some kind of destructive creature. In all the years we've known each other, when have I ever given you the opportunity to see me as that?" Jasper's hand relaxed and reached for one of her wrists, "You know me."
Bella forced her hand out of his grasp, the edge of her watch scratching the inside of his hand, and took a step back. "People change, Jasper, if you haven't noticed. You… this is fucking ridiculous." She left the small space between the coffee table and the couch, and sat on the red second hand armchair diagonally from him. "There's a reason we broke up, Jasper, I don't see why you think it'll miraculously work now. Are you bored? Ran out of things to watch on TV and thought this would provide good entertainment? Were you dumped recently, looking for a rebound? Please explain your thought process to me." Chipped blue nails scratched on the fabric clothing the arms of the chair as she awaited his answer.
Jasper tried to organize his thoughts into eloquent explanations but stress pushed heavily on his mind, making it difficult to focus on much else. "I... I miss you." It was small, it was simple, but it was the best he could do.
"That's it, you miss me? Bloody hell, we're friends, Jasper. If you missed me, you call me up, don't do this, and we spent time together." Her hands fell flat on the arms in frustration with a dull thud.
"No, no," he shook his head. He unfolded himself and stood, his stature tall and lanky, and walked to the front of Bella, his bare feet sinking into the carpet; he sunk to his knees and dropped his forehead to her knees. "I miss you. I miss… everything."
She sighed and watched the blonde hair. "You're looking back with rose tinted glasses. Remember the fights we had? That time I stayed with Rose for two weeks as an end result to one of them? We almost broke up then."
"I know we argued, but that doesn't mean we don't work well together." The pair of them turned silent. The brunette slowly moved one of her hands down the chair, a small hole catching her index finger, to the back of his head. His hands worked their way up her legs until they wedged between the chair and her calves. His thumbs dragged across the soft denim when he felt her fingers. His forehead rubbed against her knee when he slowly raised his head and pressed his lips on the denim. Cautious actions moved him to one knee, his hands now above her knees, all the while her single hand still in his hair.
Taking her hand from his hair, he pushed himself to both feet and gently led her to a partly closed door. Only slight uncertainty showed in her footsteps when the bedroom door was pushed fully open and shadows swallowed them. A streetlamp left to the window slanted through the blinds and painted a wall orange. The rest of the room were shades of shadows, the occasional car driving by thrown lines of light on another wall. He watched her sit on the edge of the unmade bed and felt uncertainty.
Copying his action from earlier, Bella took hold of Jasper's wrist and pulled him closer before taking the hem of his sweatshirt and pulling it up his body as far as she could manage without his assistance. It was dropped on the floor beside them. He held a lanky frame, long muscles that were not built to become bulky, and light hair obscured his pectorals. A smattering of scars also covered his body, some white and some pink in all different lengths; when a car's headlights flashed by the window, the scars would often shine.
Her hands moved up his sides slowly to his shoulder blades, and while her hands trekked up his body his own travelled over her arms and then down to the front of her shirt, undoing the black buttons from their respective holes, the material sliding off her shoulders, and naked skin visible. Clothes slowly left them, the items finding a place on the floor. The sounds of breathing became more noticeable as bedcovers half covered them, pomegranate and smoke mixed with musk. Fingers tangled in hair as sweat beaded on skin, lips meeting occasionally. Her nails created crescent indents in his shoulders while his fingers squeezed her legs.
Lost in their own thoughts, the pair laid next to one another, their breaths leaving less frequently. Bella owned a newfound mark on her throat, something that would be difficult to hide. Jasper shared one as well, this one on his shoulder, a place more easily cloaked by clothing. He nudged his nose against her neck, under the mark he gave her, and she jumped like a young bronco coming out of the chute for the first time.
Her frantic search for her clothes with punctured by her explanation. "I-I've got to go. Edward's going to worry where I am."
He sighed as resign settled in his stomach. "You love him, don't you?" It was more of a statement than a question.
Bella slowed as she finished buttoning her shirt. The silhouette showing a small, sharp nod that he barely saw.
"Do you love me?" This time it was a question, one that mixed apprehension along with his resignation. She hesitated before she nodded again.
"He doesn't deserve you."
"Don't, Jasper. Just… don't." She pulled on her shoes and walked to the door, only stopping when she heard Jasper's voice again.
"You know it's true."
She tightened her jaw and then walked out the door without looking back.
Jasper lay there in the darkened room, the arm he'd thrown over the slowly cooling spot Bella had been. A thin sheet covered his waist as he rested on his side. He breathed deeply, his nose catching the remains of her perfume. His chest rose slowly with the movement of the sigh he forced out. As he stared out the window, he felt his throat tighten and his eyes sting.
Should I continue this, make it a little something something? I might pad this out a bit, try and reach 2000 words. Oh, and does this deserve M rating now since there's only swearing and no real description of shagging? Try reviewing this, you might like it.