𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃

X | "Used to being alone."

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"PERLE," A SMALL VOICE CALLED AS MARGEAUX PEACEFULLY snoozed in her comfy bed. (Pearl)

Tiny feet padded in the West master bedroom unceremoniously. Her hands patting on along the duvet to awaken the sleeping beauty. Margeaux hummed tiredly, squinting her eyes open to the sight of Daisy. Her blonde tresses wild and unkempt in the early morning. Wearing her footie pajamas, blue eyes bright. "Bonjour, Perle!"

Marge cracked a smile, wiping at her droopy eyes. Her heart warming at the sight of the little girl. "Bonjour, petit agneau," She whispered softly, brushing her raven hair out of her face. "Est-ce que ta mère t'a envoyé ici pour moi?" (Good morning, little lamb. / Did your mom send you here for me?)

Daisy nodded her head, picking at the blankets with a flushed face.

"Smart woman. Who can deny such a cute face, hm?" The Bellerose reached forward and squeezed Daisy's cheeks, both of them sharing a smile. After, she reluctantly rose from the mountain of blankets, stretching her muscles with an exaggerated sigh. "Alright, allez." (Come on)

When Marge finally came down the grand center staircase, she was properly dressed for the day. She slid into a mid-length black skirt with a frilly scalloped edge. The matching blouse that she wore hugged her slim upper body, attached with thin, bowtie straps. A pointed flat adorning her feet. Her raven hair was curled behind her ear, showcasing her signature pearl stud earring.

Her steps were light and graceful despite her lack of attention to her surroundings. Walking in this house became second nature and the act in itself was a series of repetitive motions she could do with her eyes close. Within ten steps from the stairs, she was in the dining room.

A single plate was place at the head of the table with a sizable breakfast. Margeaux frowned at it, wishing that Donna didn't treat her like a princess in her own home. The Bellerose could very well make her own meals. Especially, because she had to go in the habit of doing it for herself growing up. She was the only one who actually ate in the household anyway.

The room was peacefully quiet. The only sound being her cutlery slicing the honey ham and egg. Her expresso shot sitting up front, still piping hot from when it was first poured. Margeaux enjoyed the silence. She was used to it. Used to being alone in big open spaces.

So much so, she didn't seek to fill the quiet anymore. Marge simply embraced it. Sought after it like a lost friend. Wept for it like a fallen family member.

Which it stands to reason, when Donna came into the room, why Margeaux was confused by her disgruntled expression. She furrowed her brows, adjusting her reading glasses on the bridge of her nose. "Qu'est-ce que vous faites?" Donna questioned in bewilderment. (What are you doing)

Margeaux paused, glancing around like she was missing something. "Quoi? Manger." (What? Eating)

"Non, espèce de folle. Où est ton invité?" She waved her hand around the empty room, frowning with a maternal nature Marge could never place. "Ne me dis pas que tu es descendu les escaliers toute seule, Perle." (No, you crazy girl. Where is your guest?/ Don't tell me you came down stairs by yourself)

Marge glanced around, starting to grasp the point Donna was making. She set her fork down and wiped at her lips with a napkin in amusement. Her soft laughter coming through the paper. "Nous ne couchons pas ensemble, Donna. Nous n'avons pas partagé de lit." (We don't sleep together, Donna /We didn't share a bed)

"No?" Donna pursed her lips, visibly disappointed. "Pourquoi pas!? He's a fine man, no?" (Why not?)

"We're just friends, for now. Apprendre à se connaître. If that changes, you'll be the first to know." She smirked, reaching forward to sip her expresso briefly. "But, if it will make you feel better, I'll go get him now." (Getting to know each other)

The mature mother nonchalantly brushed down the nonexistent crumbs on her apron. "...Frankly, its none of my business what you do with your love life, honey."

Margeaux hummed, knowing that was all bullshit and only amused her further. Donna was the noisiest person she knew. The expectation of how this morning was supposed to go in Donna's mind was attest to that. Lightly rolling her eyes, she stood from the table and adjusted her skirt.

Walking back towards the stairs, she glanced over her shoulder to spot Donna wistfully cleaning surfaces that were already spotless. Cheeky young lady. "Nice tactic, sending Daisy in to come get me. Maybe next time, she'll give you more valueable intel... like if I'm rooming with someone or not."

Donna blushed, caught in her alterior motives. She shooed Margaux out of the room, shutting the dining room swinging door with a little more indignant expression.

Jasper bedroom door was a omnious threshold waiting to be crossed. It stood there like all the other doors in her house, blocking one from seeing into the other side. But this one was different, she felt it in her gut. A fluttering sensation erupted in the pit of her stomach as she stepped up to it. A collection of nerves she'd never felt before now.

The Bellerose was usually a confident person. Unsteady and emotional, sure. But she was always sure about her actions.

However, as she raised her fist up to knock on the door, she couldn't help but feel incredibly small. Like Alice in wonderland, shrinking before the door, unable to reach the knob.

When the door open before she could make a sudden movement, her breath was abruptly stolen from her. Marge glanced up into warm golden eyes and lowered her fist directed towards Jasper's strong chest.

"Good mornin'," He spoke first, expectant, taking in her frame. Like he'd been waiting for her to awaken, to come to his door, so he could say those exact words with a flourish to knock her off balance.

Marge was starting to wonder if all things Jasper did were planned. He seemed like such a well put together man. Structured and refined. She couldn't help but want to ruffle his features, catch him off guard, take him by surprise for once. "It is a wonderful morning. Have you been waiting long? I'm sorry I didn't come get you sooner... I'm just used to being alone, the thought never occurred to me."

The corner of his lip curled in admiration, glancing down at her from his higher view. "Margeaux, its alright. I appreciate alone time just as much as the next guy."

"So, not at all?" She joked, exhaling in relief. Marge noted that Jasper usually tried to make others comfortable around him. Whether it be with his gift or southern words alone. It was a stark contrast from being around the Volturi, who relentlessly strived to make the opposition tremble in fear.

The hybrid felt her walls winding down  little by little. A feat on his part that she appreciated.

Gesturing behind her, she held an unreadable expression on her supple features, drawing him in. "Do you want to go for a walk? Get some fresh air."

"As in, together? That would ruin my solitary reputation I bragged 'bout."

Dubiously, she scrunched her nose. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. It'll be just between you and me." Marge leant forward and lowered her voice. "Notre secret, among many more, I hope," She whispered, biting her blush toned lip. (Our secret)

Jasper suddenly had the urge to kiss her like she'd never been frenched before. An adrenaline building in him by how delicious she looked. Full of mischief like a scheming cat. Her opal eyes surrounded by long dark lashes that stirred something primal within him.

He leaned against the door frame, dominating the majority of the space between them. It was an intentional move, tactical by far. One she noticed by the flick of her gaze before meeting his eyes, dangerously.

Margeaux easily got a whiff of him once he decided to assert his powerful reign before her. The Southern Immortal smelled strongly of clove, cardamom and freshly unpacked leather. She wanted to nuzzle her nose into his chest and release the most satisfying, toe curling sigh. It was a strange reaction within her, another one she never experienced before.

"Are you trying to start something, Jasper?" She boldly inquired with an arched brow, squeezing her fist to keep herself from clawing into his navy Henly shirt.

"Continuing where we left off. Too much for you, darlin'?"

At the challenge, Margeaux stepped closer and instantly had regrets – her senses growing overwhelmed. The vampire side of her wanted to mate with her mate and the hormonal side of her was encouraging it, like a drunk best friend shouting at you to dance on the bar top.

"Mm, not enough, frankly." Her emotions had always been uncontrollable. Reigning them in was constantly a problem and her she was, at the master of emotions throne, begging for more.

She was about a breath away when she finally closed her eyes and grounded herself. Her conscience, deep – deep down, didn't want to rush this. For once, she wanted to understand someone and be understood. Margeaux didn't want another Edward on her hands and she forbade herself from encountering another Caius. "But that can wait until later."

Jasper seemed to grasp that, in some unspoken way. He held his arm out like a gentlemen from the Western Countries and offered to escort her on the walk she propositioned. It was strange, hearing the words yes and no in solely his actions.

"Shall we," He stood straight and tall, oozing desire and patience at the same instant.

She slowly, gently, and with awe – took his offered arm and felt her cheeks heat a magnificent rose. Head raising with her bashfulness instead of lowering in embarrassment. Marge felt lighter, brighter, like she was the grandness of the sun in a small package. Her voice smooth and romantic. "Merci."

...

"What is this place back here?" Jasper questioned as they walked arm in arm around the land on her property. The sky was blocked by fluffy white clouds, overcast. The perfect time to come out and enjoy the day.

He pointed up ahead at a wooden building that was over fifty years old, still standing strong. It held two large barn doors with iron handles and one can only guess what had previous been kept there. Marge squinted at it, a fond memory springing to life in her mind.

"It was the old stables. Where we kept the horses before they grew old and passed. I... Couldn't bare to get anymore. I'd out age them every time."

Jasper watched her the entire time she spoke, listening to every word like it were sent from the gods to be transcribed in stone. It was quite distracting, but she carried on without stutter.

The Bellerose released her arm from his hold, instantly feeling the loss before she walked ahead of them and reached for the cool iron rings to open the doors. "Now, we keep my old vehicles inside. I was so fascinated when they got really popular and I couldn't help but have a few for myself. Memorabilia purposes, of course."

"Wow," Jasper whistled in awe at the line up of old cars. All he could think of was Rosalie, who would genuinely really enjoy this sight. He had to bring her sometime.

A line of a 1925 Rolls Royce Silver Ghost, a 1915 Gun metal grey Stutz Bearcat and even a 1928 black Studebaker. Jasper didn't know much about cars but he knew these from living in the time period. He supposed this was one of Marge's hobbies and he loved that he was getting to know her even more by the minute. "Can they still run?"

Margeaux pouted a little to herself, wistfully glancing to them. "Only the Studebaker can go. I can't make the others do anything. I'm not a mechanic, I just like to look at them. Remember back when, y'know?"

"My coven sister, Rosalie, would go to town on these babies," He chuckled, sliding his hands into his jean pockets, casually.

Marge perked, she looked childlike for a moment. Carefree and innocent. "Really? You think she'd fix them?"

Jasper knocked his head to and fro, unsure. "You have to catch her on a good day. She doesn't mesh well with everyone."

At that, Marge seemed to get the hint. She nodded, deflating ever-so-slightly. "Yeah, she'd probably wouldn't care too much for me, with my background and all."

"How did you end up with the Volturi, anyway?" That question caused her lips to purse. A reluctance on her furrowed brow. Jasper steered the conversation in a different direction, listening to the subtle ques. "Okay, touchy topic. How about your... entanglement with Edward?"

Margeaux made a strangled noise in the back of her throat, brushing her hair from her face as the wind picked up. Jasper breathed a humorous hum. "Pick your poison. Its one or the other, which one is easier to answer, doe?"

"Doe?" The Raven haired hybrid deflicted with a sure smize.

"A female deer, yes. Perfect game for hunting. Especially, when they try to change the subject." He teased with an edge. They started walking side by side again, falling into stride across the grassy plane towards a large lake.

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest to hug herself. "We were passing lovers for a time. Barely even that, I suppose. We never made promises to each other and lived in the moment for three years. Feeding on perps here, sex there." She ignored the prominent stiffness in Jasper's frame after that and continued on. He wanted to know, after all. "Until it suddenly, abruptly ended. Edward grew a conscience and remembered the ways his Sire taught him and left..."

Despite his obvious disdain at the subject of his coven brother being with his mate he persevered. It wasn't about him or what he felt or thought. This was Margeaux's story, her truth. Just like he had with Maria, unfortunately. "Did you love him?"

Marge thought it over, really thought it over. It was quiet for a moment and an understandably tense silence fell over them. The tall grass ruffled, Jasper's golden locks rustled, bees flew by soundly, the lake trickled against multi-leveled rocks and Margeaux thought.

Finally, she parted her plump rose lips with a sigh. "At the time, what I assumed was love... is what I felt for him."

"And now?" He encouraged patiently.

"Now... now, I know it was a necessary pain. So I could truly know what love is not." She smiled sadly at him, between her wind swept hair. It felt like a key had just opened a lock in her chest. The caged bird was free, flapping about with relief.

She got that when she talked with Jasper. When she simply looked at him. She didn't want to go back in the cage, not when she just got her first taste of freedom.

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Unedited Jan 06 2022

We're back! For news where I've been, its on my profile. I'd rather keep that detailed stuff over there. Plus, while you're there, maybe give me a follow!

This probably has to be one of my favorite chapters so far. It's so... Transparent? Real? I don't know. Maybe its my inner emotions coming out on paper, but I love it. I love them!

Let me know what you guys thought. Comment, Vote! Xx