Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the collective works of Stephenie Meyer's Twilight Saga

Chapter 37: Prom and Premonitions

"What are you still doing here?" Alice snapped, the moment Louisa sat down at lunch.

"Eating?" she replied, waving the apple she had packed for emphasis.

Her answer did not appease the distressed vampire. "Prom is tonight!"

"Gracious, is it really?" Louisa replied in a dry tone. "Did you know about this, Edward?"

"I believe I heard something about it, yes. Why, were you planning on going?" he asked without bothering to look up from the novel he was reading.

Louisa hummed in thought. "It could be fun," she decided.

"Got a hot date?"

"He's rather cold, actually."

"This isn't funny!" Alice screeched, drawing the attention of the surrounding lunch tables. "We only have so much time to get you ready!"

"I put on a dress and brush my hair. That's like, twenty minutes, tops," Louisa replied, enjoying how Alice tensed. "Besides, Jasper doesn't care what I look like."

The edge of the table cracked under Alice's grip.

"Relax, Alice," Louisa said with a laugh. "I'm leaving after lunch." Whilst she was truthful about not needing much time to get ready (Rosalie was doing her hair and makeup after all), Louisa hadn't said no to her father's offer to sign her out of school early. She wasn't the only upperclassman leaving either— in a small town like Forks, high school prom was the swankiest event some of her classmates would attend in their lives, and it wasn't uncommon for students, particularly the girls, to spend the entire day preparing. Nobody had batted an eye when Rose refused to show up for the day, nor when Emmett and Jasper were absent. Of course, the missing members of the Cullen clan were out slurping animal blood in the forest rather than priming for prom, but the school didn't need to know that.

"This is your first prom, and it needs to be memorable," Alice snapped.

"Oh, is that today?" Dottie asked, appearing at Louisa's shoulder. "I forgot."

Alice let out a scream that bordered on inhuman, earning her a disapproving look from Edward.

"What's up?" Louisa asked, craning her neck up towards her sister.

"Can I sit with you?" It was more of a demand than a request, and Dottie slid into the chair that was typically occupied by Jasper before she could reply.

"What did Spencer do this time?" Louisa asked while Dottie pulled her lunch out of her bag.

"Absolutely nothing," she huffed.

"I'm shocked," Edward murmured, somehow managing to look sympathetic and disappointed at the same time.

Dottie shot him an angry look but didn't disagree. "Regardless. I've been thinking," she began, pulling her bag into her lap and extracting a beat-up journal. "You know how Dr Cullen was using you as a guinea pig for your… brain deformity?"

Louisa rolled her eyes at her sister's unflattering description of her gift. "Vividly."

"Well, you said that you sucked at it—"

"Is there a point to coming over here, or did you just want to insult me?"

"Because you felt like you were rummaging around in somebody's mind, right?" Dottie continued, speaking over Louisa's protests. "Then I thought: how could you learn about somebody without invading their privacy? And it came to me, you could invade your own!"

Louisa opened her mouth, only to shut it when she realised she had no clue what her sister had said.

Dottie rolled her eyes, acting as if the words that had come out of her mouth were coherent and not a jumbled mess. "You lost your memories," she enunciated as if she were talking to a toddler. "So find them again."

She was referring to the retrograde amnesia Louisa suffered at the age of seven after falling off a cliff. Louisa had woken up in the hospital without a name and sent home several days later with people claiming they were her parents. She had no sense of who the strangers she lived with were any more than who she was. It was during that time she discovered the Sherlock Holmes novels and learned how to deduce people around her— even if she didn't know who they were, at least she knew something about the people who called themselves her family. It became second nature, picking up nonverbal cues and consuming minuscule details that most people overlooked. She learned to read into every action or inaction, digest how people sounded, looked, smelled, felt, until she could tell someone's life story after shaking their hand. It was from this event, Dr Cullen believed, her gift of psychometry was born.

Despite countless hours in the doctor's office and on a couch with a therapist, there was one story Louisa had never been able to fully access: her own. While she would eventually remember her name, what her parents looked like, and that she had a younger sister, much of her life before the age of seven was a mystery to her. The link between memory and sense of self was an esoteric topic beyond the comprehension of a child, but even then, she acutely remembered the loneliness and terror of being trapped in a foreign body. Questions as simple as 'did she want vanilla ice cream or chocolate?' would be enough to trigger a full-blown meltdown because she didn't know which she liked. It seemed trivial, but when your entire existence was defined by not knowing a thing about the person people claimed that you were, it was easy to feel exhausted and overwhelmed.

"I found my journal from the year of the accident. Granted, it was written by a six-year-old, but maybe some of the things I wrote about could help? For instance: our neighbour back in Tacoma had a bunny. Do you remember it?"

"No," Louisa said.

"Well, you locked me in its cage when I was six."

"You probably deserved it," she replied with a laugh. She had no memory of the event, but it sounded like something she would do.

"An intriguing notion," Edward mused, sensing her thoughts. He marked his place and shut his book with a snap before leaning forward and surveying her with a critical eye. "Most amnesia patients recover most of their memories after a traumatic brain injury. Recent studies even suggest that lost memories are merely inaccessible, rather than obliterated."

Dottie nodded and fixed Louisa with a smug grin. "You said you feel lost in someone else's memories, right? But if they were your own, it won't matter if you get lost in them!"

"Though, it would pose the question about what makes a person: the collection of memories stored in their brain or a metaphysical conglomeration of traits that is intrinsic to each individual."

"English please, Eddie," Louisa demanded, feeling far too exhausted for it to only be half twelve.

"Is your personality based on your past experiences, or is it found in your soul?" He pondered aloud. He reached into his pocket and extracted his cell phone, his fingers flying across the keypad at a dizzying rate. "Though, I wonder if you will remember the memories you glean, or if you will create a new memory of this knowledge you should remember."

"Right," Louisa said, rising from her chair. "Well, that's enough philosophy for one lunch period." Reaching into her backpack, she pulled out her car keys and tossed them to Dottie. "You nerds have fun."

She slipped out of the canteen before anyone could stop her and made it to the car park before the bell signalling the end of lunch sounded. Rosalie was already waiting for her in her little red BMW, the roof of the convertible down, despite the cool, overcast weather. Then again, she supposed it didn't matter how cold it was to someone who was clinically dead.

"Are you ready to make me pretty?" she asked, batting her eyelashes as she slipped into the passenger seat.

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "I'm a vampire, not a miracle worker."

Louisa laughed and buckled her safety belt. "How was hunting?"

"Marginally fulfilling," she said in a clipped tone. "Jasper's still out with Emmett, which is what you were really asking."

Louisa shrugged, unabashed. Jasper had mentioned his anxiety about being trapped in a room with 'a hundred sweaty blood bags' for the dance and had left early in the morning to go hunting. "I didn't want to look like a crazy girlfriend."

The trip from Forks High (Home of the Spartans!) and the Collins house took far less time with Rosalie driving, and soon Louisa found herself ushered inside with the command to shower and change into the satin robe Rosalie shoved in her arms. When she descended into the lounge sometime later, Louisa found her friend surrounded by an arsenal of hair tools and beauty products. She couldn't help but roll her eyes at her friend's excessive preparedness but sat cross-legged in front of her nonetheless. Whilst this wasn't Rose's first prom, it was the first time she got ready with anyone other than Alice, and Louisa was loath to ruin the experience for her.

It took Rosalie the entire movie of Mean Girls to complete Louisa's makeup, but in the end, the results had been worth it. The makeup wasn't subtle, nor did it look heavy. She had somehow managed to soften Louisa's features so they were less angular and more feminine, but didn't hide the androgynous bone structure she had inherited from her father. But it was her eyes that she thought were the loveliest— instead of their customary cool grey, they looked almost silver under the shadows that Rose had applied.

"What will you wear for jewellery?" Rosalie asked as she began taming Louisa's long hair (with few grumbles about the length). In no time, the waist-length waves were set in an intricately braided updo, adorned with glittering hairpins.

"It's hard to decide when I don't know what my dress looks like."

Rose froze, a stunned realisation washing over her face which Louisa couldn't help but laugh at. Instructing her not to move, Rosalie rose and disappeared, only to return seconds later with a long garment bag. Louisa watched with interest while Rose unzipped it with a flourish and revealed the infamous mystery dress. She hadn't had any input into the dress as Alice had purchased it for her back in January. After Louisa and Rosalie had picked it up from the boutique in Portland, Alice had snatched it up and Louisa had forgotten all about it. Which, considering how traumatic the day had turned out (break-ins will do that, she supposed), was probably a good thing— the dress was far too beautiful to be tainted with the association.

It wasn't flashy or sparkly or sexy, nor was it plain either. It was a silvery grey, floor-length gown, with a delicate lace bodice and an airy skirt that could have been woven out of moonlight. It was modest, with long lace sleeves that tapered to the wrist and a conservative neckline, without looking like something an old lady would wear. When Rosalie helped her put it on, it was like being wrapped up in a very expensive cloud, and Louisa was almost afraid it would disintegrate off her body. The dress was the most luxurious thing she had ever worn, and even standing next to Rosalie, who was easily the most gorgeous person on the planet, Louisa felt beautiful.

By the time Louisa finished admiring herself, Rosalie had already completed her hair and makeup and was stepping into her own dress, a sleek satin dress in deep emerald, its style harking back to evening gowns from the 1930s. She turned her back to Louisa, a silent request to fasten the tiny pearl buttons along her back. Whilst she worked, Louisa watched Rosalie slip her wedding band off its usual necklace and onto her left ring finger.

"You look beautiful," Louisa said, wrapping her arms around her friend's neck and resting her chin on her shoulder.

Rosalie shrugged without bothering to turn around. "If Emmett doesn't rip this dress off me by the end of the night, this will all have been a massive waste of time."

"And you ruined the moment," Louisa groaned.

"I was right!"

Louisa rolled her eyes and turned to face Alice, who was standing in the archway of the lounge, an excited glimmer in her yellow eyes.

"The dress is perfect!" she exclaimed, jumping up and down. She probably would have clapped her hands together too, had she not been clutching a shoebox to her chest. "Now for shoes, I—" Alice froze, her eyes widening in alarm.

Rosalie craned her neck around to look at her adoptive sister. "Don't tell me you forgot them?"

"You're taller than Rosalie," Alice proclaimed, ignoring Rose's question.

Louisa glanced down at her bare feet, then up at Rosalie. Besides noticing that her trousers were a little short and it was easier to kiss Jasper without craning her neck, she hadn't really thought about her most recent growth spurt.

"When did that happen?" Alice asked, continuing on before Louisa had the chance to reply. "You weren't supposed to be this tall."

"You're telling me," her father quipped, peeking his head into the lounge. He was still dressed in his work clothes, though he was tugging off his tie, his sleeves rolled up to his forearms. "No matter how many books I stack on her head, or reduce her bread and water rations, she still has the audacity to shoot up like a weed."

Alice shot them all a dirty look when they laughed.

"How did you miss it?" Louisa asked. "It's not like I don't go round to your place several times a week."

"Or bother us at lunch," Rosalie added.

"I've been too busy focusing on Bella!" Alice snapped, only to stiffen. Her eyes widened in terror and she covered her mouth as if doing so could somehow take back the words she had blurted out.

"Who's Bella?" Rosalie asked.

Alice looked furious with herself and didn't respond.

"Alice," Louisa sang, reaching forward to tug on her hair. "Do you have a crush?"

"I'll leave you to your girl talk then," Mr Collins said with a smile before disappearing back into the kitchen.

Rose and Louisa descended the moment he was out of earshot.

"Who's Bella, Alice?" Rosalie repeated.

"Do we know her, or is she from a vision?"

"Has she been born yet?"

"When do we get to meet her?" Louisa asked, bouncing with excitement. Whilst she wasn't as close to Alice as she was with Rose or Jasper, she was fond of the littlest Cullen. If this Bella girl had captured Alice's attention—

"She's Edward's mate!"

That brought Louisa up short, fantasies of Alice's wedding popping like a soap bubble. "Edward? Like that melodramatic redhead who lives in your attic and plays the piano?"

Alice looked close to tears. She was gripping the shoebox so tightly that it ripped in half, a silver stiletto tumbled to the ground. "Stop! I've already said too much! Everything is already different and—"

"Okay, calm down," Rosalie commanded in an even voice. She pulled Alice into a hug, and began stroking her short, spiky hair, despite Alice's protests that she might ruin her dress. She exchanged a concerned look with Louisa over the top of Alice's head.

Louisa reached forward to rub Alice's shoulder. "Do you want me to call Jasper for you?" she asked, though she wasn't sure if it would help much.

Over the last several months, Alice had become more anxious and withdrawn into her visions, refusing to tell anyone, even Jasper, her closest confidant, what she had seen. Not even Edward had been able to glean more than a few seconds of her chaotic premonitions before he found himself disoriented and had to withdraw from her mind. It had started back in March, from what Louisa could tell, and the visions had increased in frequency in the following months. She closed her eyes, racking her brain for what could have triggered the change. She mentally ran through every even that had happened in March, but besides her own birthday party, Louisa couldn't think of anyone specific event that stood out. In fact, one incident, in particular, stood out. What had she said?

"I don't understand… It's too early…"

Then Alice had been ushered away. Chief Swan's appearance had been fortuitous, and they were able to slip out with few questions asked. Or perhaps because of his timely appearance the Cullens had left. Chief Swan… Chief of Police… divorced… father. Chief Swan had been consulting her father recently. Her father, a lawyer.

Louisa's scalp tingled and her mind whirled. Sure, Mr Collins specialised in criminal law, but he was still a lawyer. He knew a thing or two about family law. He might be able to point Chief Swan in the right direction for, say, gaining custody of his daughter… his daughter… Isabella, wasn't it? Or, Bella, if you will.

A memory flittered to the forefront of her mind. It was January, and she was sitting in the Cullens' spacious kitchen, Jasper fiddling with the ends of her hair. Carlisle was doctoring in front of her, waving that damn penlight in her eyes. Emmett was being obnoxious about her and Jasper, and Alice had promised he would get over it soon.

"Until Bella comes," she had said.

"She blushes a lot. It's most amusing," Louisa finished out loud.

Alice— the present Alice, not the past Alice— whimpered.

Louisa pulled away, feeling light-headed. She tried to discreetly check her nose for blood, relieved when she found none. Rosalie shot her a look that told her she wasn't as sneaky as she had hoped. "Why does this have to be a secret?" she asked.

"It's too early. He's not ready yet," Alice explained, heartbroken over an event that may never come to pass. "He'll push her away."

She blinked stupidly, trying to process Alice's words. If this Bella girl was Edward's mate, wouldn't he be drawn to her? She tried to imagine distancing herself from Jasper, and her heart lurched in her chest, making it difficult to breathe. How— why— would Edward put himself through that torture?

When she asked as much, Rosalie shook her head. "Because Edward is a pig-headed masochist and loves to sabotage his own chances for happiness."

Louisa grimaced at the apt description before bending down to Alice's level. "What can we do?"

"Don't mention anything," she said, reaching forward to take Louisa's face in her hands. "Don't even think about it if you can help it."

This would be easier said than done, considering Edward could read minds.

"She's not ready to meet him either," Alice continued, speaking so quickly that Louisa struggled to understand her. "When she comes, you'll need to—"

But what Louisa would need to do exactly, she never found out. Mr Collins had reappeared, holding a camera, and Alice fell silent. "I hate to interrupt," he said with an apologetic smile. "But I suspect the boys will be here soon."

"And you don't have shoes!" Alice said, springing into a flurry of action, her panic seemingly forgotten.

Louisa and Rose shared a look before playing along.

"What's wrong with the ones you brought?" she asked, picking up the shiny stiletto.

Alice wailed in genuine distress. "Everything!"

No Stone Left Unturned

Louisa felt rather like a newborn deer as she tottered down the porch steps, trying to adjust to her new centre of gravity. She was dimly aware that the entire Cullen family had arrived, but they weren't her concern at the moment. Her target stood ten metres away, his back turned as he allowed Esme to fuss over his blond waves. She admired the way his dark grey suit pulled at his broad shoulders and realised that this was the first time she had seen him in formal wear. After all, the last dance they had attended he had worn a flight suit. Unable to keep the grin off her face, she closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his waist.

Jasper shifted in her arms and turned to face her. Only to stop dead when he realised how close her face was to his. She watched with amusement as his face contorted in confusion. "You're tall," he managed to stutter out.

"Four-inch heels, Babe," she said, planting a kiss on his lips with ease.

Alice breezed past to stand next to Dr Cullen, surveying her with a critical eye. "I would have preferred taller, but somebody had to have another growth spurt," Alice grumbled.

"I like this," Jasper responded, a delighted, boyish grin settling over his face. He bowed his head and buried his face in her neck, inhaling heavily.

"Save it for later, you two," Emmett quipped before pulling Rosalie in for a passionate kiss.

Jasper rolled his eyes.

Pictures followed. Mr Collins was positively restrained next to Alice, whose camera flashed like it was Paris Fashion Week. Esme kept trying to control her daughter, only to burst into happy tears and needed to be comforted by Dr Cullen. Edward looked torn between amusement and boredom and settled for pulling silly faces at them when his parents' backs were turned.

They were getting ready to leave when Mr Collins pulled Jasper away from the group. Being the only one without supersonic hearing, Louisa was the only one who missed the conversation, but something made Edward and Emmett dissolve into snickers, despite Esme's hushed chastisements. Louisa shot a confused look at Rosalie, who only shook her head, fighting to keep a grin off her lips. Jasper gave her father a serious nod, but considering he didn't look upset when he rejoined her, she let the matter drop.

Rose and Emmett peeled off in her convertible not long after, Emmett hooting with delight, sticking his hands up in the air like he was on a rollercoaster.

"Surely you aren't driving that," Alice said in disgust, eyeing Louisa's little Prius.

Louisa's brow furrowed in confusion. How else did she expect them to get to prom? Jasper didn't own a car, leaving them without an alternate method of transportation. She supposed she could have borrowed her father's car, but considering he also drove a Prius, she didn't think Alice would approve. Besides, did it matter? She was going to high school prom with her hot boyfriend. What more did she need?

"We could take my bike I suppose," Louisa replied, glancing over at Jasper. "It would certainly make a statement."

"Would I get to ride on the handlebars?" Jasper asked with mild curiosity.

"I think you'd have to," Louisa said, ignoring Alice, who was moments away from an aneurysm. "My dress would get caught in the wheels."

"It's supposed to rain tonight. That might not be the best idea," Mr Collins injected.

"I suppose that rules out walking, as well," Jasper agreed with a solemn nod. "I suppose the Prius will have to do." A wave of calm acceptance settled over the group, Jasper's influence unmistakable. He snagged the keys to the Prius from Louisa and ushered her towards the car before Alice could kick up more of a fuss.

"I'm sorry about her," Jasper said as they sped off down the street. "She's… Alice."

Louisa grinned at his description. "She wants tonight to be perfect for you," she said. Sure, she could have done with less micromanaging, but Alice's heart was in the right place.

If he could have blushed, she knew his face would have been scarlet. Instead, a fluttery sensation filled her stomach, like butterflies trying to escape out of her mouth. He reached over and took her hand, raising it to his lips to press a kiss against the inside of her wrist. "You look stunning, by the way."

"Only the best for you, Babe," she replied, trying not to blush herself. "I had to put some effort into my appearance if I was going to show up with you on my arm."

"Oh, am I your arm candy now?" he teased, pulling into the school's car park. The dance was already in full swing, and Jasper had to frequently hit the brakes to avoid hitting the hordes of students who were making their way towards the gym. He found a space to park not far from Rose's BMW, and pulled into the spot with an ease that Louisa would have been jealous of, had she not been so impressed.

"I suppose if you want to get technical about it—" she didn't get to finish her sassy response as she found her lips preoccupied with Jasper's.

A knock on the driver side window stopped their impromptu snog session from progressing too far. "Mess up her hair, and I'll rip both of your hands off," Rosalie hissed through the window.

Jasper let out a disgruntled sigh but pulled away nonetheless. He was at her door seconds later, doing his not-quite-teleportation thing, and helped her out of the car, his arm winding around her waist. They trailed after Rosalie and Emmett at a sedate pace that only slightly had to do with the fact that she felt unsteady in her shoes. Fellow students called out in greeting, more specifically to Louisa, though few of them were able to overcome their wariness of the Cullens and approach. That was until she was ambushed the second she stepped into the gym. Louisa found herself ripped out of Jasper's arms and ushered over to a group of surly-looking girls she recognised from the homecoming committee back in October.

"What do you think of it?" Katie Hyde, the president of the Dance Committee, asked in a harried voice.

"It looks nice," she said, glancing around at the colourful, if not horribly stereotypical, balloon arches. The dance was held in Forks High's gymnasium, which was one of the few places in town that was large enough to accommodate the hundred or so students in attendance. The prom committee had tried to disguise this, but no amount of crepe streamers cover over the basketball hoops or scuffed up floors. Still, the DJ they had hired for the night was decent, and she spied a photo booth to drag Jasper into, so it wasn't a total loss.

The girl glared. "No it doesn't. Don't lie to me."

"The streamers are a bit much," Louisa conceded.

"It would have looked better if you had signed up to help."

"I've been a little preoccupied lately," she replied, trying not to sound too sarcastic. Being the small town it was, everyone in Forks knew of her involvement with the police and the Sweet case. Most people had opinions about her connection to the chemistry teacher's, Mr Hewitt, subsequent suicide, many of them unfavourable. In the three months since that fatal day in February, it became a taboo subject to discuss what had happened, with many people unwilling to bring it up, especially around her. So it was no surprise with the girls behind Katie stilled and an awkward silence fell over them.

Katie cleared her throat and fixed her with a stern look. "Well, you have no excuse for homecoming. If you and Rosalie aren't on committee, I'm hunting you down and dragging you there myself."

Louisa thought this was an aggressive reaction for a high school dance. Even so, she felt compelled to agree despite her discomfort, before bidding them farewell and slipping into the mass of students. She found Jasper and his siblings easily and wove through dancing teens, some of whom smelled suspiciously of alcohol.

"I won't do it," Rosalie snapped the moment Louisa was close enough. "There is no way in Hell I'm going to let you put me through that again."

Louisa pulled her phone out from where she had hidden it in the bodice of her dress. "Hey Siri, is there a way in Hell?"

Her phone began playing Highway to Hell.

She hummed with mock consideration. "Jury's still out on that one."

Rosalie shoved her into Jasper's waiting arms before stomping off.

"I'll work on her," Emmett promised. He shot her a wink and bounded off after his wife.

She wound her arms around Jasper, refusing to let go after he righted her. "My prince charming."

They remained intertwined, taking a moment to enjoy the other's presence. Around them, teens bounced to music which was loud enough to rattle Louisa's bones. There was a tangible energy to the room, full of a contagious vivaciousness, and it wasn't long before Louisa found herself swaying to the beat. She extracted herself from her boyfriend's arms and stepped back with a grin.

"Dance with me," she said, extending her hand.

Jasper made to take it, only to hesitate. "I don't know how to do this," he admitted, looking uncomfortable.

Louisa bumped her hip with his, but only succeeding in knocking herself off balance. "You don't know how to dance?" she asked, trying not to laugh.

"I know how to dance," Jasper hissed, his eyes tight, panicked. He waved his hand towards the party with a vague gesture. "I don't know how to do… that."

Louisa felt a rush of endearment at her normally confident boyfriend's vulnerability. "This is how us kids dance, nowadays."

Disgust twisted his features as he surveyed the crowd. "This isn't dancing. This is gyrating."

"Okay, grandpa," she laughed before taking his hand and dragging him onto the dance floor. She wove around him, trying to get him to move with the music, to no avail. He stood stiff as a statue, a pained grimace twisting his face, looking more like a soldier waiting for a battle to start than a boy at prom. "Try to act like you're enjoying yourself."

"I'm not enjoying myself."

"Clearly," she said, rolling her eyes. She reached forward and took his hands, forcing his arm up and indicated for him to twirl underneath. She laughed when he gave her an unimpressed look, only for it to turn into a gasp when he swept her up into his arms.

"That is not dancing," he repeated in a low voice that sent a shiver down her spine. He pressed his forehead against hers, his lips tantalisingly close.

"Show me how it's done then." She meant for it to sound like a challenge, but her voice was too breathy for it to have any real impact.

An eyebrow quirked and he leaned back, arranging her into a more suitable dancing position. Then he guided her around the dance floor, his movements precise and confident. Their steps were old fashioned, something out of a different era, but somehow managed to fit the modern-day music that blared over the loudspeakers. They wove through grinding teens who paused to watch them with curiosity, and Louisa idly wondered if they thought they were lunatics— not that she had it in her to care all that much. She caught sight of Rose and Emmett once or twice, noting how the other couple had also opted for a more antiquated style of social dance. They swung in and out of view, moving to a lively foxtrot and looking like gods amongst men.

She lost count of the number of songs they danced to, but Jasper's step never faltered. There was something almost magical about twirling around the dance floor and she felt it would be remiss of her to not focus on the moment. Eventually, however, Louisa's human nature exposed itself, and they were forced into an intermission so that she could rest her feet. After patronising the photo booth and amassing an obscene amount of pictures, Jasper dragged her out of the gymnasium, citing a need for fresh air— there were apparently only so many horny, sweaty teens an empathic vampire could take.

They walked hand in hand across the moonlit grounds of the campus, which wasn't nearly as romantic as it sounded. They wandered at a sedate pace, finding themselves near the forest that bordered the school. Behind them, she could hear the faint rumblings of bass from the party which the sounds of the woods couldn't quite drown out. Louisa glanced over at her boyfriend, admiring how his skin seemed to glow in the moonlight.

"Thank you for coming with me tonight," she said in a low voice, almost afraid to break the silence that surrounded them.

Jasper looked over at her, his golden eyes alight with joy. She imagined for a moment, what he must have looked like as a human. Would he be as flushed as she was from their dancing? Or would his golden locks have looked tousled after being whisked around the dance floor? She had no doubt he would have been grinning, though, just as he was then. It was her favourite toothy smile, the one that he only ever gifted her, and she couldn't stop herself from pulling him in for a kiss.

She had meant for it to be short and sweet, but Jasper seemed to have other plans. Something between a purr and a growl rumbled through his chest, and Louisa found herself being pushed backwards, her back pressing against a tree. Part of her worried that her dress would get dirty, but her concerns were chased away by the sensation of his lips on hers. When the pins Rosalie had used to secure her hair began to jab into her skull, her fingers fumbled to pull them out, all the while refusing to break their kiss. It was heavy and all-encompassing, leaving very little room for outside thoughts. Only the burning in her lungs from lack of oxygen forced Louisa to pull away, although Jasper didn't let her go willingly. His cold lips trailed down her jaw and her throat, leaving a burning trail against her skin as he went.

"So," she panted, trying to catch her breath. "What did my father say to you before we left?"

Jasper groaned, burrowing his face into her neck. "Has anyone ever told you that you have the uncanny ability to ruin a moment?"

"One of my many talents," she said. "Considering my own father stole you from me, I feel it's my right to know."

"Possessive," he commented between kisses. "Though there is no need. You have thoroughly enchanted me, Miss Collins."

"That's a relief," she replied, hating how breathless she sounded when he continued his ministrations up her neck and along her jaw. "I'm getting quite fond of you. Even if you are trying to distract me."

Jasper pulled away, a roguish and unrepentant smile on his face, which only widened when her heart skipped a beat.

"What did he say?" she asked again, forcing an impassive mask over her features. Not that it helped. A cool, unimpressed look only worked on people who couldn't sense how much you wanted to push them against the nearest tree and snog them senseless.

Jasper chuckled before tilting his head forward and nipping at her lips. "You won't like it," he said. "It was a rather private moment the Cullens were privy to."

"Well now I really need to know," she said, pressing her index finger to his nose and pushing him away. "I need to be ready for Emmett's teasing. You wouldn't let me face that unprepared, would you?"

Jasper snapped playfully at her fingers before pulling away, holding her at arm's length. "He told me that if I stayed the night, I have to stay for breakfast."

Louisa froze, her brain spluttering as it tried to process this new piece of information. "I think I'm having a stroke."

"I think you're being dramatic," Jasper laughed, leaning back towards her, his mouth resuming its exploration of her neck.

"Does he know that you usually—"

"Edward has assured me that he does."

Louisa let out a moan before burying her face in his shoulder.

"Careful now," Jasper said, rubbing her back. "We don't want to give anyone else the wrong impression."

She gave him a playful shove before winding her arms around his neck and pulling herself closer. "Will you stay tonight?"

"I'll have to decide whether having to hide is worth suffering through human food," he said. "Besides, I don't want to abuse his good faith. Your father was surprisingly gracious about the whole thing. Back in my day, I would have been chased off with a shotgun."

"Back in your day, a woman's ankles were considered pornographic."

"You're telling me. I feel aroused looking at your clavicles," he replied, lifting a hand to run his fingers along the offending bones.

For the second time that night, Louisa felt her heart lurch, though for a very different reason. In an instant, she felt jittery and had Jasper not backed her up against a tree, she would have pulled away. Her skin grew hot with embarrassment, which was idiotic because this was Jasper. Her Jasper. Still, his words echoed in her mind and doubt began to infiltrate her thoughts.

They had never discussed the possibility of sex. They had only been dating for six months, after all, and didn't that seem kind of soon? Considering she hadn't kissed him for the first two months of their relationship, it wasn't a surprise that the topic hadn't come up. Their entire relationship was characterised by how slow it moved, and it had never really bothered her. Did it bother him?

Jasper had always allowed her to control the pace of their relationship, which was already comically unbalanced considering how much physically stronger he was. They would eventually have to take their relationship to another level, and sex was a natural progression of that. But did he expect that it would be tonight? She had heard a lot of couples hooked up after prom, but she hadn't considered that they might be one of them.

Jasper pulled back to watch her with concern, his brow furrowing as he took in her chaotic emotions. "It was a joke, Lou," he said.

"Everyone thinks we're…" she trailed off, her brain struggling to form coherent thoughts. It wasn't even the fact that people thought they were having sex that bothered her. She didn't care what they thought, and besides, a person's character wasn't tied to their sexuality. What bothered her was that it seemed like others expected that she and Jasper were having sex. Was that something he expected from her too? Had he even had sex before? Did that bother her? If he had, would he be annoyed that she hadn't, and was clueless? Her fingers spasmed as she fought the urge to pick at her cuticles.

All the while, Jasper watched her through those golden eyes, a patient expression on his face. That was probably the only reason she was able to continue. "I'm not ready."

He didn't say anything for a while. He considered her, his hand sliding down her body, his thumbs massaging gentle circles on her hips. Peace settled over her and Louisa let out a heavy sigh, leaning into the tree he had pressed her against, focusing on his touch, his apple and cinnamon scent that permeated the air, how he seemed to glow in the moonlight.

"It's none of their business," he said at last. "When we decide to have sex, it will be because it is something we both want and are comfortable with. It's not something I will ever expect from you, just because you are my mate." He took her face in both of his hands and pressed a sweet, chaste kiss to her lips. "I've waited for you for over one hundred and fifty years, Louisa Jane. I can wait for as long as you need."

She gave him a watery smile, overwhelmed partly by relief, but also gratitude. "Thank you."

Jasper rolled his eyes and shook his head, a fond smile on his lips. He pulled her against him, tucking her face into the crook of his neck, and held her like she was made of porcelain. They stood like that for who knew how long, savouring the other's presence.

"For what it's worth, I'm not ready either," he murmured in her ear.

She let out a watery chuckle before tilting her head to capture his lips. Their kiss didn't explode with passion. It didn't consume her senses and leave her breathless. It was gentle, tender, and filled her with warmth, like slipping under a warm blanket after a cold day. It was full of love built on understanding and respect, rather than a frenzied desire to consume the other. It made a part of her heart sing, resonating in perfect harmony with his, and complete at last.

And most of all, it was the perfect way to end the day.

To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love. —Jane Austen

A/N: I started out with quarantine planning to use my ample free time to write. And for the first couple of days, I did just that. And then depression from lack of routine and anxiety about... everything set in. This is a scary time for everyone, and I just want to remind you that it's okay to not be writing the next NYT bestseller or mastering a new hobby. Just take care of yourself, friends. In the end, that's all we can ask for.

On a less upsetting note, here are some tidbits about Louisa you never asked for: she is now at her adult height of five foot eleven inches, making her the same height as her father; Louisa is more commonly described as 'handsome' due to her androgynous features whilst her father, to whom she bears a striking resemblance, is often called 'beautiful'; both Louisa and her sister have curly hair which they straighten daily.

Anyway. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It's got some important plot details buried in the fluffy background. The fluffy background was key because I wanted you all to remember the good times of this story. I have a feeling you won't like me very much in the coming chapters. Until then, CheckAlexa