little light

jacob moved through the forest, his steps steady on the damp earth, which was carpeted with dry leaves and moss. the scent of wet vegetation mingled with the faint, sickly-sweet perfume of vampires—too cloying. too familiar and getting closer with every step.

the cullen house emerged through the twisted branches, as if it had grown out of the mist itself. massive, its glass walls shimmered under the sunlight, like a sculpture carved into the heart of nature. the transparent surfaces left the interior exposed, like a frozen display case. even from a distance, jacob could feel the weight of its presence. it was as if the air around the building hummed with tension.

he slowed down as he stepped onto the narrow trail. he was close now.

being there again was unsettling, after so long avoiding even the thought of that place. everything looked exactly the same—the cold gleam of the windows, the silence that wasn’t truly silent. inside, the voices and movements of the cullens echoed faintly, like distant memories. jacob could feel them, as if the house itself pulsed with their immortal presence. life? no, it was something else. something he’d never fully understood, but that had always made his skin crawl.

he finally stopped. stood still, just a few meters from the back of the house. his dark eyes fixed there, watching. and then he saw—too fast for human eyes—the silhouette of alice darting across the room like a gust of wind. a graceful blur. anyone else would’ve thought it was a trick of the light. but jacob knew better. she was there. they all were.

he took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the cold air, trying to quiet the storm building inside him. his hands instinctively slid into the front pockets of his worn-out jeans, a reflex of restraint. the rough fabric against his fingers grounded him in the present as he rolled his shoulders beneath the honey-colored flannel shirt. the leather jacket he wore over it suddenly felt heavier—but it was just the anxiety crawling over his skin.

he was looking for bella and for the twins.

renesmee and charlie were no longer children. they had grown—before time’s eyes, and far from his—in a way that defied logic. beautiful and strange, just like the improbable union that had created them.

there was a time when charlie and his twin were unwanted, despised, and even plotted to be put to death by whatever methods it took. who could have gathered at that time, how far they'd come from then? who could have seen charlie and ness, large crooked grins on both their faces, embracing the world rather than destroying it? it was nearly impossible to believe... and yet the proof was living and breathing several dozen meters before jake, standing in the now open doorway to the front foyer of the cullen's glass home.

" jake? " his voice has deepened considerably, sounding similar to his father in pitch– yet this was charlie. doe eyes and brown hair, edward's facial features surely, but bella's coloring. charlie was a perfect combination of the two—  and his sister? was his mirror.

it was impossible to deny what they were: immortal yet mortal. the two of them were walking contradictions that should by all possible logic, not exist. and yet here one half of the pair stood, descending the front outdoor stair case, down to the paved driveway that cut through the woods.

" it's me— it's char. "

the last time the wolf had seen the boy, he'd been in a little yellow rain coat— over sized boots he'd grow into the following week, squeaking with each step he'd taken. now he quickly approaches, each step faster than the last, in a hoodie and jeans; some high school's name scrawled across his back. he was far from the little boy who had been placed with his sister upon jacob's hide, and told to run. and yet he was that same little boy in the same breath.