Jasper's POV

I creep up the stairs, silent and skillful, while balancing a polished wooden tray over my arms. The stench of indistinguishable broth and various vegetables waved up to my nose as the steaming bowl rested atop the mahogany. I reach my bedroom door and knock once, twice, three times before twisting the nob and inviting myself inside.

"Bella?" I call quietly, slipping across the threshold. The girl in question sits near the wide window, legs drawn to her chest as she stares beyond the pane to the darkening forest. She never looks up as I come to her side. I carefully drop to my knees, setting the tray atop the carpet.

I gaze at her form, tracing her weary and hollow features. Her usually luscious midnight hair tumbles down her back and over her shoulders in limp waves. Her eyes are surrounded by dark circles. Her normally reddened cheeks are dim against her practically gray pallor. Her lips, once a stark red, are now dry and chapped, slightly parted with the subtle breaths she takes.

Looking over her form, a new wave of never ending rage stirs within me. It is the fault of that bastard who could not take no for an answer in which I sit here now, looking over the emaciated form of my girl who sits, burdened by the weight of her loss. That gift which she clung to so heavily is gone, and she has not been the same since. A mere week has past since her release from the hospital and ten days since the disappearance of her gift. The instigator, no more than an arrogant boy, was not hard to find in that length of time. My brothers and I found him soon after Bella returned home, all of us more than ready to handle the pproblem. We decided to wait, however, until Bella is well, or close to well, until we go after him. I cannot leave her alone - not yet.

"Bella," I whisper, internally praying, "you need to eat, Sweetheart. This isn't healthy." Not so much as a twitch.

I exhale and lean closer. "Please, Angel, please...don't let this destroy you this way." Again, nothing. I shake my head slightly, sadly, and glance down at the tray's contents. Another waste.

"It's no use."

I blink at the quiet voice, moving my gaze back to the ball of a broken girl before me. Her lips vibrate with use, releasing the words it barely managed to successfully form.

"What's no use?" I question, scooting forward a little - almost unconsciously - in my yearning to hear her voice once more.

"All of it. Everything," she breathes. "My gift is gone. The thing I held so dear to my heart has disappeared, and I don't believe I will ever get it back."

I pinch my eyes closed a moment. Her grief is so deep and palpable. It ignites my senses and threatens to pull me under its endless weight. "Bella, you have every right to mourn. You have lost something important all because of the selfishness of another. No one blames you for that, but I am worried, Darlin'. This lack of sleep and not eating...it concerns me." I reach out and curve my hand over the small of her arched back. Sliding upwards, her spine bumps along beneath my fingers. I reach the nape of her neck before moving back down in a soothing motion. "Please, let me help you."

I turn to the tray and lift the bowl of steaming liquid into my hands. I stir the broth before freezing as a set of gentle fingers touch the skin of my cheek. They pass over the curve of my face, and I have to resist the urge to completely melt beneath the contact. Pushing the urge away, I spoon some of the liquid before raising it and blowing the broth until the smoke fades. I carefully press the tip of the silver to her lower lip, pleading with my eyes as they meet hers. Slowly, they part and she sips at the liquid. Her body quakes with a shudder as I lower the spoon back into the bowl.

"Is it still too warm?" I wonder, glancing down at the fog.

She shakes her head, entranced by the movement of her fingertips across my flesh. "You're skin is so soft," she murmurs, almost to herself.

One brow lifts as I ready another bite. "Soft?" I scoff. "I'm practically made of marble, and cold."

She giggles softly around another spoonful, and I revel in the sound, no matter how slight it may be. "You're right," she agrees, "but you're soft to me, like silk. It's infuriating how wonderful you feel."

I cannot resist releasing a subtle chuckle as I place the bowl to the side. Lifting my hand, I pass a single finger from one corner of her lower lip to the other. Though chapped and dry, the plump flesh is like satin beneath my touch. I lean forward, glancing up as I draw closer. "Your lips are pure satin," I whisper just before our lips meet with the barest of touches.

Her hand cups my cheek and she pulls me closer. The pressure is stunningly passionate and fiercely innocent. For too long has this distance between us existed. Too much time has past since the last intimate touch, and this - this kiss - is more than a simple action between lovers. It is a connection, longed and desired for, which has slipped between my fingers like sand since she woke in the hospital.

She sits in this room, silent and avoiding all hungers. Very little food has parted these satin covered lips and few hours of sleep have closed those cinnamon dipped eyes. What little sleep she has attained has been filled with terrible croaking and nightmare induced cries. My influence does nothing and she has avoided all contact. Where I once wrapped her in a protective embrace, I now only watch from the moonlit edge of the room as she twists and turns beneath tangled sheets before shooting up and escaping the too warm cocoon, only to curl before the glass and stare emptily to the forest beyond. Yet, here she is, kissing me, albeit hesitantly, and grasping at my face like a lifeline.

Slowly, we simultaneously separate, and I rest my forehead against hers, unable to escape the contact so soon. I inhale, reeling in her delicious scent. A few moments of silence pass as I hold her close.

"I'm sorry, Jasper," she whispers, and I pull back a few inches, brow furrowing as I meet her gaze.

"What ever for?" I ask, confused by the immense guilt overtaking her.

"For pushing you away," she murmurs. "I've locked myself away in this room and shut down, hoping it would all go away, or maybe I'd wake up from this nightmare. I...I'm trying so hard to come to terms with what's happened, but I just..." She squeezes her eyes closed for a moment, inhaling deeply. "It just hurts so much. I feel like a part of me has been completely stripped away, and that missing piece has always been so vital to my life that I don't know how to handle it being gone." Her voice quiets, and it's as if the words are flowing like stream water over flattened rocks at bottom of a brook. "I know I shouldn't act this way - shouldn't put myself in this position, but I can't just let it all go. I can't let that part of me go. But that doesn't mean I should push you away. Instead, I should be clinging to you."

I swallow back the venomous saliva which coats the contour of my mouth as I fight against her sadness, grief, and guilt which threatens to bury me beneath it's weight. "Bella," I start, "I don't want your apology, nor do I need it. None of this is your fault. The only person at fault is the bastard who did this to you. But more than that, do not ever apologize for your actions and emotions. We all heal differently, and there is nothing wrong with that. If you want to scream, scream. If you want to cry, cry. Let it out. All I ask, Darlin', is that you eat and try to rest. Hell, let me help you sleep, if that's what it takes. I just want you healthy because, Sweetheart, that alone will help you through this. I will help you through this. Can you promise to at least eat and sleep?"

She nods, sniffling. "I promise."

"Good," I breathe, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She clings to me, pulling herself closer until she's practically sitting in my lap. A brief laugh escapes at her adorable actions, and I lift her in my arms so I can shift into a cross legged position before placing her on my lap. She snuggles closer, one arm around my shoulder and her other hand curled into the fabric of my button up. Her warm breath fans my neck, and I encase her within my arms. Tilting my head down, our skin brushes as I rest my face against hers, perfectly content to hold her until the end of time.

Still, her emotions pulse around me, but there is a new tranquility within her as she rests within my arms, slowly succumbing to a much needed sleep. I guard my girl as the darkness seeps through the trees, and I hope for a peaceful night.

SERIOUS QUESTION

Does anyone here use the fanfic app to update? If so, is it as big a pain in the ass as I believe it is? Also, can I add chapters through the app? If so, how? It keeps changing my format style as well. Incredibly annoying. Any who, hope you like, and please review!

-Zoe