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chronically ill : libra : purple : literally love everything : horror slut : music

˗ˏˋ new to posting my writing

˗ˏˋ y/n will only be used if its headcannons / oneshots

[ i prefer to use OCs for long-form books ]

˗ˏˋ I don't write nsfw (not currently at least)

˗ˏˋ I plan to write for a variety of fandoms - right now I'm sticking to one book until I can get used to writing multiple things at once

˗ˏˋ feedback appreciated <3

masterlist

100%. The next book I'm planning to write whilst I'm working on the mbav series is a volturi kings x cullen!oc.

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- present -

A hospital was one of the few places in the world that never fell completely silent.

Even in the middle of the night, when visiting hours were long over and the flow of staff through the compressed corridors had begun to thin, there was always something making a noise.

Whether it be the rhythmic beeps of a heart monitor, the artificial hums from various pieces of equipment and machinery, the squeaks of rubber soles against the vinyl floor, or even the light chatter of sleep-deprived nurses working long shifts where every decision held consequences.

The ever-so-yellow-tinted lights overhead had been dimmed, soft buzzing audible even from a distance. Hospitals seemed incapable of the light reduction required to have a proper rest. No matter the time, everything remained washed in a pale fluorescent shade that seemed to make time pass as quickly as it did in a never-ending loop. Disinfectant lingered in the dry air, settling in the back of the throat like an insistent cough waiting to happen.

A constant rustling could be heard every time someone shifted on the doughy mattresses; the paper-thin white sheets tucked tightly into the bed — not dissimilar to a straitjacket. Standardised blue blankets sat neatly folded at the foot of the bed, caged in by plastic rails. Despite the boxed-in frame, being bound to a hospital bed brought little comfort.

Chairs lined up at the bedside, the sanitised leather was stiff and uneven, built to be moved and cleaned rather than sat in. Friends and family members still curled into awkward positions, their love unbreakable in the face of pain and despair. The evidence of affection was everywhere on the small tables next to the rows of beds, wilted flowers flopped beside fresh ones, cards stood proudly — filled with undying signatures and prayers.

There was a diverse sort of tension woven into every hospital room, one that never fully left even when the calm facades were on. It revealed itself in the way visitors glanced toward the door whenever footsteps sounded nearby, hoping a doctor was finally about to provide long-awaited answers. It pushed to the surface in the slightly too long pauses between conversations, in the sporadic tapping of fingers against wooden armrests, in the multiple cups of coffee left to turn cold.

People waited in hospitals more than they did anywhere else. They waited for test results, for surgeries to end, for good news, for bad news, for full transparency. Entire days spent feeling trapped in a state between heaven and hell, where every minute dragged until out of nowhere an hour had passed.

The views were always predictable, daylight offered grey skies and the constant stretch of passing traffic on the nearby road whilst night turned the glass into a reflection, bearing witness to the lives suspended within.

Minutes stretched endlessly when waiting for overworked doctors, entire afternoons gradually vanishing between routine checkups and life-altering information. Lives ended, new ones began, families celebrated good news as others next to them waited for a saving grace that would never arrive.

Sleep would never come easily in places like this, the constant stream of noise likely didn't help, but it was mostly because they were full of people with too much to think about.

Thoughts could keep someone awake for far longer than the drone of the vents could.

It would be a tragedy if a hospital fell completely silent.

- three days prior -

claire jones p.o.v

The neighbourhood surrounding Charlie Swan's house was quiet. Most of the neighbours had already switched off their lights for the night, leaving only the occasional illuminated window slashing through the dark streets. Parked cars sat motionless along the curb, the moon beaming down onto the windshield when the cover of clouds lifted. The trees shrouded the homes, offering a veil of protection from the elements.

The creaky white porch held a collection of muddy footprints that dragged behind life in such a rainy town. Behind the curtains, the dim flicker of a television lit up the living room in brief flashes of colour, a laugh track echoing around the small space.

I was sat several yards away, perched atop some branches straight across from the modest two-story home where I could keep watch without attracting notice of any rogue cats. My eyes drifted every few minutes, searching for any threats nearby.

Esme was guarding the other side whilst Rosalie patrolled the general town for the red-headed vampire, Victoria.

All we had to do was wait.

Wait for the news that James had been destroyed and Bella was safe.

The forest surrounding Forks usually felt comforting to me, but in the dead of night it felt like danger was constantly lingering just out of sight. Branches swayed softly whenever the wind picked up, and shadows danced along the small splotches of light that permeated the copse.

My body tensed as a cold sweat worked its way up my spine. I wanted to dismiss it as nerves; a psychopathic vampire was hunting my friend for sport in an entirely different state. Of course, I was nervous, not just for Bella but for the rest of the Cullens as well. Carlisle had told me that their kind who fed on humans were stronger, it wasn't impossible for the vegetarian vampires to beat them, but it wouldn't be easy either.

But so many things could still go wrong ― even if the family outnumbered James and Victoria.

I took a few slow, unnecessary, deep breaths. Everything was going to be fine. They have their job and I have mine, and even if something happened ― which it won't, there's nothing I can do from here. I just need to stay focused and keep Charlie safe; at the very least I'll be helping Bella as she won't have to worry about him.

But despite my efforts to distract myself, the odd sensation persisted.

It sat uncomfortably at the base of my neck, and without warning my legs started shaking. Like I was shivering uncontrollably after being out in the snow, it wasn't excessive, but my limbs wouldn't stop unless I tightened the muscles.

If my heart were to still beat, I can only imagine it would be hammering out of my chest, leaving a lump in my throat and my head feeling compressed.

My eyes kept falling towards a certain cluster of trees further down the road from the house. Nothing was out of order; I couldn't see anything, I couldn't smell anything, I couldn't hear anything. Nevertheless, I kept looking over.

The more focused part of my mind insisted I was just imagining things, even if there was something there that I was missing ― Esme would've caught it.

But the instinctual part of my mind, the part I had spent almost a year ignoring, wasn't so convinced.

I blocked it out of my mind. I was only looking out for one person, Victoria, and if there was something in the forest, it wasn't her.

third person p.o.v

Concealed amongst the shrubbery of nature, an unknown figure remained perfectly still. The world around them — damp bark, loose pine needles, and the pungent scent of moss and wood rot — continued obliviously, failing to acknowledge the creature that had embedded itself into its edges.

They were confused, in a gradually simmering, almost irritated way, as they looked up through the latticework of branches at the familiar girl sitting so high in the pine trees in the pitch darkness, as though she was supposed to be there for some normal — some human — reason, rather than as a result of the grotesque nightwalker she had become. For almost a year, the memory of her had been a near-constant itch at the back of their mind, resurfacing every few weeks before being pushed aside when a new opportunity for revenge arose. They always had more important things to do, vengeance, unfinished business with what happened to the others.

When they returned to Forks the first time, just an urge to quell their nagging curiosity, an out-of-control vampire had been expected. Or even an unexplained death that unnerved the locals. The odd fledgling here and there were able to resist the temptation of blood but dropped dead in excruciating pain not long after.

Instead, Claire Jones was the only proof they had indeed left a victim alive.

The girl was strange, unnatural even. It took until the third visit to the rain-drenched town, this visit, for them to see that the girl was indeed a vampire.

But she wasn't a vampire vampire, she was still a fledgling.

She sat amongst the trees completely motionless. Balanced on the branch like a human who had carefully climbed her way there rather than simply flying up into the canopy like one of their kind would.

It lacked any sort of sense at all, unless time itself had been distorted, unless a mere few weeks had stretched and dragged into what felt like far longer in their ferocious preoccupation. By every supernatural rule that provided their kind with what little logic the undead could trust, she should have been long dead by now, or something beyond salvage.

A monster.

Most vampires without a present creator spent their first days drowning without coherence, swallowed whole by the unyielding need to have their razor-sharp fangs tear through anything unfortunate enough to cross their path. Eventually piqued the attention of more experienced vampires, who either disposed of them or taught them some form of control. The few who managed to surpass the instinct to live like a rabid animal were stripped of whatever humanity they had dawdling, the aching thirst anchoring them to reality.

Claire Jones should have been one of the latter at the very least. Not many of their kind settled in the Olympic Peninsula ― the sun was uncomfortable, and could burn them if hot enough, but it didn't expose them ― they preferred to stay away from the resident cold ones, the Cullens.

Ah, of course.

The Cullens.

The figure's eyes narrowed slightly.

Claire Jones wasn't theirs to find, to teach, to own. They were a little late to the party, but in their excuse, they had only turned the girl in a fit of rage and had been rather busy dethroning the vampires in charge.

But now they were here to take what was theirs.

There was no doubt that the whole watchdog thing the fledgling was partaking in was the work of the Cullens, they must've antagonised one of the nomads passing through and were now making an immortal ― half-immortal ― do charity work.

Their attention returned to her, to Claire. It was irritating that they had done all the work, making her what she was, what she was supposed to be ― and others were reaping the rewards.

Oh well, they couldn't change the past. It wouldn't be difficult to correct this, to bring her to her rightful place, after all, a wolf couldn't remain among sheep for long without revealing itself or being dismantled by the weight of pretence.

It was their fault that she was rejecting her nature, if they had been there from the start, she wouldn't be in this predicament. The poor thing.

The figure's attention flicked towards the direction of one of the Cullens standing nearby. They considered the threat they posed and wondered if they should take them out before grabbing the girl, or coercing her, they could be out of the country before dawn broke through the horizon.

No.

Not yet.

The timing wasn't right, but they had a feeling they wouldn't have to wait long. If the Cullens had her watching a human, it means they must've gotten close to one ― and that was a disaster waiting to happen.

It wouldn't be long before she was alone once more.

But this time they would be waiting.

The figure lingered a moment longer before finally turning away, disappearing into the dense grove, and any possible trace of their presence was quickly washed away by the morning downpour.

Still sitting covered in the canopy, Claire Jones continued her vigil beneath the moonlight, unaware how close she had brushed fate.

Keeping watch for the wrong monster.

- present -

The hospital had never fell silent since she arrived. The steady beep of the heart monitor that barely alleviated any of the pain from the people in the room filled the blank space. Two of the occupants having advanced hearing didn't help, it was as though their ears were tuned into the machine, a constant punishment reminding them exactly why they were there and what had happened to the girl in the bed.

But the antagonistic rhythm offered some sympathy, it told the vampires present that she had survived, the brush with death was far too close for comfort but she had survived.

The blinded windows provided cover for Edward Cullen. If a God did exist, they provided him with some respite, undeserved respite, allowing him to be near the human he had grown so inexplicably close to in such a short time.

Bella Swan.

A human had brought such warmth to a dead man's chest.

She had also unintentionally annealed her two immortals together. If Bella Swan had never stumbled into their lives there was a strong likelihood they would've never spoken, never mind become so trustworthy of each other.

But their love for the human girl wasn't the sole thing that joined them in death, it was also their self-condemnation for her fate.

Everyone knew there was nothing Claire could've done to help Bella, even Claire knew that she was doing her part by watching over her friend's dad and keeping him safe. But it didn't change the fact that she felt responsible for the human's pathetic state.

Looking back, Claire felt there were many things she ought to have done. She knew she couldn't blame herself for Bella learning of the existence of vampires, that was on Edward, but there were things she could've done to delay the inevitable or ward her off.

If she had killed the men in the alleyway, perhaps Bella Swan would realise the dangers of the world she was so close to breaching the borders into and back off.

Those men were a disgrace to society, to the world. Carlisle and Edward tracked them down and threw them in jail anyway, surely it wouldn't have made a difference if she had just destroyed them.

But she didn't kill them. She badly injured them and probably left them traumatised for the rest of their undeserved existence, but she let them live.

Because she didn't want to be a monster.

She had let men who were a danger to the world live, who had not only tried to hurt her and Bella but had no doubt done it to other women in the past.

For purely selfish reasons.

Claire didn't want there to be metaphorical blood on her hands ― she was covered in literal blood after the attack ― but if someone else got hurt in the future because she let those men walk, or hobble free, then it would be on her.

For someone who liked to preach to herself constantly that she was still human, still normal, she sure felt disgusted with herself for making such a human decision.

She saw Edward glance in her direction from the corner of her eye, bearing witness to the leaden thoughts. Not that he could say anything, he was just as bad ― if not worse. Claire was glad Bella's mom, Reneé Dwyer, was in the room with them that way she couldn't be lectured by a hypocrite, though she had a feeling he was too consumed in his agony for Bella to have a chat with Claire about the debacle circling her mind on repeat.

Waiting for the bed-bound girl to wake took longer than they had been expecting, though Alice rolling her down the stairs and chucking her out of a window whilst already injured likely didn't help. Edward said she had enjoyed it, so she got something out of it at least.

It had been creeping up to 3 days since Bella had run away from Alice and Jasper to meet James in a ballet studio. The tracker had tricked the girl into believing he was holding her mom captive, nobody was upset that she had left ― they all thought it very honourable that she was willing to sacrifice herself for a loved one. But the vampires were disappointed they hadn't done more or gotten there sooner.

Her injuries were extensive. James had snapped her leg, Carlisle determined that it was a clean break and would heal nicely, the femoral artery in her leg had been severed and the blood loss very nearly killed her. Alongside her shiny new cast, she also gained a cracked skull and four broken ribs.

A silvery crescent now decorated her wrist, a parting gift from James. It was barely discernible to the human eye, so no one had really noticed it, and if anyone had they attributed it to Bella's clumsy nature.

It was a miracle the heart monitor still detected a beat in Bella Swan's chest. Edward made a last-minute decision to suck the venom from the bite out, with her wounds already losing blood rapidly, the refusal to let the girl he loved become like him nearly cost her life.

Alice had much to say about the choice, finding it incredibly stupid because she had seen that Bella would be a vampire sooner or later, after all, her visions always came true in some shape or form.

Claire had found it curious that her eyes had flickered to her for a split-second when she was chastising Edward.

She didn't know much about Alice's gift, not as much as Edwards ― which was pretty self-explanatory. The pixie-esque vampire had dragged her out shopping more times than she could remember but they had never approached the subject of her precognitive powers.

The "basics" were known to Claire. Alice could partially control what she saw but they also came at random. They were based on people's decision; the vision would change if a person changed their mind. But she didn't know how far into the future she could see or if she got visions of her.

Edward had explained that his gift was rather finicky when it came to her, he could hear her every-day, normal stuff thoughts but the second her mind moved to supernatural issues it tuned him out. Since she and the Cullens had found out about each other, her mind was free-range for him.

Claire had no idea if this applied to Alice as well. Was she unable to see Claire due to her supernatural ties, or did the barrier disappear when everyone found out.

And if she could see Claire's future, had she seen her as human?

She had no time to dwell on her queries as Bella's eyes slowly flickered open, a groan escaped her ― Carlisle had her on a high dose of painkillers, but her body still likely felt the weight of her injuries.

Her mom immediately moved to sit on the bed next to her, brushing her hair back soothingly. Edward leaned further into his chair, wanting to give them space, he nudged his head towards Claire, and she took the hint and left.

She let out a soft sigh as the door clicked shut behind her, maybe if she drank enough coffee her body would respond to the energizing effects. She hadn't been involved in any fighting but the last few days of sitting next to her friends mangled body, waiting for her to wake had been mentally taxing.

Walking slowly through the sterile halls, she reflected about how surreal everything still felt after all this time. Her life was literally something out of a fantasy movie. She had struggled more than ever recently with what she was, the truth about her character, but she had also been thankful. If she had never become a vampire, she wouldn't've become so close to the family she considered her own. Sure, she would have no reason to as she'd have nothing to hide from her parents and friends and wouldn't feel utterly alone in the world.

But she can't imagine her life going another way. She might wish more than anything that she was never bit, never brought into this world, but she was unable to see it going any other way. Claire knew she still had a long way to go, but if she had never experienced the pain of becoming something she hated with all her might, would she be the same girl she was now?

No, she wouldn't. The old Claire had worried about her future ― and not whether she was going to experience a normal one or not, but what job she would have, where she would live and what her house might look like, if she would fall in love and get married, have children.

She hadn't sat up all hours of the night because she had nothing to do but think. Think about if she could last long enough until a cure was found, about what she would do if she ever hurt someone, ever killed someone.

Think about if she deserved to exist, if her "life" could even be considered existence in the first place.

The harsh white lights shined onto the polished floor as she continued down the hallway. Nurses passed by juggling clipboards and stacks of paperwork. A doctor emerged from a patient's room, his eyes showed years of exhaustion, and he looked ready to collapse. Somewhere around the corner, staff rushed around as a machine began beeping loudly before it stilled.

Life didn't care that Claire was still struggling to deal with what she was, even after a year had almost passed. The earth continued spinning despite her world feeling like it was constantly on the verge of collapse.

She paused at the entrance to the cafeteria, she could see Charlie Swan conversing with Phil Dwyer, any awkwardness between them wasn't present. They were both worried about one thing and she brought them together.

Bella.

Her hand moved unconsciously to the pocket of her jeans, where the paper she carried everywhere was safely stored. The ink-clad parchment was worn and creased from being unfolded and refolded so often, small tears littered the edges, Claire was unsure why she always kept it on her ― it was like leaving the house with a safety-blanket.

The corner of her mouth twitched as she looked down at the paper, the dry pen was smudged from how often she traced the letters that touched her soul so deeply.

A small draft almost lifted the sheet from her hand; strands of her hair blew in odd directions. It must've come off an open window near her, but for the second time in the past few days, her body reacted strangely.

Every fibre of her being stood on edge, like a gazelle hiding in a field of grass, knowing something was nearby, waiting, but unaware the predator was looking over its shoulder.

The animated chatter in the cafeteria dulled as her eyes flickered around, looking for something. But nothing was there.

Families sat together, hushed voices lost in the crowd ― they leaned on each other, metaphorically and literally. They were united against the medical sorrow that plagued their loved one.

Claire's brows furrowed, maybe she was starting to experience side effects of abstaining from blood. She had never felt like this prior to the past few days, her senses were no doubt on edge from everything that had happened.

A hand lightly touched her shoulder, and she gasped, spinning around and nearly jumping ten feet back. Edward stood with his arm still outstretched; his face was the picture of confusion as his head snapped up.

His eyes mimicked what Claire's had previously been doing, searching the room.

"I thought I heard someone," He murmured, "they were thinking about you."

Maybe she wasn't going crazy after all.

Claire stared at the door in front of her, unsure whether she should enter or not. Edward had come to find her so that she and Bella could talk. He had gone off to find Carlisle to see if there was any trace of the stranger he had heard in the canteen.

She let out a sharp breath, preparing herself, and opened the door.

Bella lay in the same spot she had been before she woke, maybe propped up a little more. The oxygen tube was still connected to her nose, and she seemed a bit drowsy, so Claire assumed the nurse had given her some more painkillers.

She smiled at Claire as she walked in, her mouth parting to greet the girl but Claire cut her off before any words could escape.

"I'm sorry." She blurted, her head hanging low.

Bella's eyebrow raised, her mouth formed a frown.

"Huh?"

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah-no, I heard that. I'm just confused, I mean, wh-why are you sorry?" Bella asked, Claire was no mind reader, but she could practically hear her friend's thoughts short-circuiting.

Claire's head lifted, she searched Bella's face for any small sign of resentment. She found nothing. It irritated her to no end, how could Bella not feel even a little upset that Claire had done nothing when it had been the bane of her existence the past few days.

"Because I did nothing. I was literally sat in a tree whilst you were getting tortured by James." She huffed out, crossing her arms.

If Claire wasn't so visibly upset Bella might've laughed.

"What were you supposed to do? Claire, you took so much weight off my shoulders by watching over Charlie, I felt awful after what I said to him but knowing that you were protecting him let me focus on what was going on."

Claire's shoulders raised slightly before dropping back down, her hands moved up to her face and rubbed her temples.

"I don't know! I could've gone with you, Esme was perfectly capable of keeping him safe alone, I wasn't needed there."

"I could've at least fought against the decision," She muttered, "but I didn't do anything."

Bella's amusement dwindled at that. This clearly mattered a lot to her friend, she was still unsure why it bothered her so much ― even Edward, who was notorious for his self-debasement, hadn't seemed this upset.

"Hey, we have no idea how you would match up against those types of vampires. What if you got seriously hurt, or killed? Besides, it's not like James snatched me from Alice and Jasper, I left to go meet him and knowing you, you would've followed me." Bella remarked, her head tilted to the side, trying to get her words through to the vampire. "The only difference if you were there would be that both of us would be in a hospital bed."

Claire didn't know what to say to that. Everything in her knew that Bella's words were nothing but the truth, even if Claire's species were strong enough to take on the cold ones, she was still a fledgling ― but her mind refused to accept that her presence wouldn't have changed anything.

"You know," She started, "I felt relieved that James was after you and not me."

Her voice was low; she was unsure if the human would even be able to hear her. Saying it out loud only served to make her thoughts seem impossibly vile.

"I was relieved that you, arguably my closest friend, were being hunted by a psychopath because it meant I was safe."

"You could've died ― you almost died. And the first thing that came to mind was that I was thankful it wasn't me." Her tone was louder now, shaking.

She didn't realise her fists were clenched so tightly until her nails drew blood, the crescent marks healed almost immediately. Her body was dead, but her face felt like it was on fire, the guilt hitting her full force.

"Claire..." Bella whispered, she spoke softly like she was speaking to a skittish animal moments from running away, and she just didn't trust her voice. Her eyes were brimming with tears for the other girl who was incapable of shedding them.

"There's nothing wrong with feeling thankful that you don't have to fight for your life. I know that given your situation and what you have been through in just the past year, if it had been me in your place ― I would've felt the exact same. You never need to apologise for reacting like a normal person would. If anything, I should be the one who's sorry. I know you think that you weren't doing anything by watching Charlie, and that I was the only one in danger, but Victoria was still running lose and she could've attacked you. You and the Cullens were pulled into this mess because of me, because I was so nosy and wasn't satisfied with minding my own business ― I just had to find out the truth. And you feeling relieved that you weren't in danger? Not only would it have been incredibly stupid if I had felt upset about that, but also hypocritical. When you told me about how you were turned, about how you've been fighting every instinct in your body, going against your nature and suffering immensely because of it, I felt awful. Not just because you had to experience that, are still experiencing that, but also because I was glad it wasn't me in your place. When I learned that Edward was a vampire, that he would never age, I have never wanted something more in my life. I couldn't understand the hatred he felt for what he was, what Carlisle had turned him into because in my mind he was the definition of perfection. He was everything I wanted to be. But when you shared your perspective of everything, it was like my brain was switched back on. I was so attracted to the idea of never changing, of being perfect, that I was unable to think of any downsides. So, whilst I still want to be with Edward forever, I'm not exactly rushing into it ― not when I've seen how much pain it's caused you. I would never be upset with you for being happy there was one less burden on your shoulders, Claire, because you have been dealing with so much pain ― that you were only recently able to share with other people ― that most people wouldn't go through in their entire lives." Bella was nearly gasping for breath when she finished, her eyes were filled with a mixture of pain and desire that Claire might feel even a little bit less alone in her feelings.

Bella Swan would never be able to understand the depth of Claire Jones' suffering, something she would be forever grateful for, but she had faith that her friend would feel comfortable enough to confide her woes.

It was impossible for Claire to keep it together after that, her body shifted from foot to foot as her chest heaved. No more words were spoken between the two as Bella opened her arms and Claire collapsed into them, dry sobs racking her body.

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After Port Angeles, it didn't take long for Bella Swan to learn the truth. Claire knew the secret was finally out in the open the day Bella and Edward vanished into the woods instead of attending school.

Bella had her suspicions about Claire as well, but Edward refused to tell her anything —  he wanted the girl in question to share her truth when she was comfortable doing so.

Things changed after that. Self-proclaimed Romeo and Juliet were inseparable, arriving at school together in the mornings and disappearing for long hours in the afternoon. Alice had enthusiastically told her that they went to a meadow and just talked, or stared.

Claire and the Cullens had grown closer as well. She doubted the self-loathing would ever leave, but she was surrounded by people who could understand her — people who had once wrestled with the same thoughts and feelings and had surpassed them.

They treated her like she was one of them and always had been, the hope for a cure had dimmed but wasn't gone completely. It had clicked for everyone just how low a chance there was at finding one after weeks spent raking through books older than America.

Despite this, they never stopped looking. Moira made a list of potential libraries and stores in other states and cities that might have information for Claire to pass on to Esme. The Cullen matriarch had paused the architectural projects she did in her free time to drive across the country in search of hope. Carlisle used every free moment at the hospital to search through medical journals, folklore archives, and websites that almost certainly gave his computer several viruses, but he was undeterred.

It made it easier to focus on the present, the knowledge that people cared for her and were doing everything they could to help took a lot of weight off Claire's shoulders. She did homework in her free time. Read books unrelated to the supernatural and went shopping with Alice far more often than any sane person would agree to. She worried about exams and prom and all the mundane things a girl her age was supposed to worry about.

At school, Bella and Claire still sat with their friends. Bella recognised how much time she spent with Edward and wanted to ensure she still had relationships with the other people in her life as well. The friendship between the two had deepened, the Cullens had been around the supernatural a long time but the two of them were still just teenagers at the end of the day.

Eventually, during one of their regularly scheduled afternoon hangouts so Bella could be free from Edward's — admittedly overbearing — presence, she told her everything.

She didn't sugarcoat it either. Claire knew there was probably something wrong with Bella because she was so normal about everything, so she felt no hesitation in sharing her darker thoughts with her friend.

The confusion over what she was. The isolation. The growing hatred she felt toward her own body and everything it represented.

The constant fear that she would never get to be just Claire Jones ever again. That she would succumb to the bloodlust that pestered her constantly. That she would have to watch her loved ones die whilst she remained the same for eternity.

That one day she really would be the monster she believed herself to be.

Bella listened through all of it. She didn't interrupt, she didn't ask questions or throw any judging looks.

She didn't look frightened.

When Claire finally finished telling the girl about what had been plaguing her life for almost a year, Bella sat in silence for nearly a minute before wordlessly tearing a sheet of paper from one of Claire's notebooks, uncapping a pen, and began writing.

Several minutes passed, and Bella kept writing.

By the time she finally turned the paper around, there was hardly any white space left on the page. It was nothing but reasons.

Every time she had chosen restraint even though giving in would've been easier — and far more satisfying. Every person she had helped. Every kind thing she had done without expecting anything in return.

Every reason she wasn't the monster she believed herself to be.

It had taken a while, not because she needed time to think of explanations, but because she had so many prepared in her head that she filled the entire page.

Claire had laughed it off, mostly in disbelief at the page that no longer held any proof it had once been white, because how could someone else think she wasn't cursed when she believed herself to be.

Bella hadn't joined in, she stared at Claire with a look she was unable to describe.

"You know," she said quietly, "the people most afraid of becoming monsters are usually the ones who never do."

For once, Claire didn't know what to say.

Once Bella left, she folded the paper up and kept it tucked away in a notebook — one she found herself opening more often than she would ever admit.

Shortly after, Bella was introduced to most of the Cullen family when Edward took her to his house. Claire had bailed despite promising to be there for her friend, something she was glad she did when Bella told her how awkward it had been.

The Swan girl told her she nearly choked laughing when Edward called her "spider monkey".

Life settled after that, it was almost normal.

As normal as life can be when the people you're closest to are vampires, witches, and Bella Swan.

Claire had been invited to join a baseball game, Emmett claimed he wanted to test out her strength, something she suspected he'd conveniently forgotten to mention to Esme.

The clearing sat deep within the forest beneath dark storm clouds. Thunder rolled across the mountains surrounding them, setting a scene for something that could belong in a movie.

All that was missing was a killer song.

According to the Cullens, they could only play baseball during thunderstorms. They neglected to tell her why, wanting to see her reaction in real time.

Claire learned why just a few minutes after Bella and Edward arrived.

Rosalie stepped up to the plate, Alice — the pitcher — drew the ball back, kicking her leg up and launched the ball at such a speed Claire was sure Bella wouldn't even be able to see it.

The crack of the bat hitting the ball echoed through the forest like an explosion just as a well-timed roar of thunder broke through the atmosphere.

Edward raced into the trees, it took Claire a second to realise he was going after the ball, and by that time he had already thrown it back to Esme just as Rosalie made the home run.

Bella, acting as umpire, ruled Rosalie out — earning a glare from the blonde.

That was the only real tension of the game, most of it was harmless cheating. Edward claimed that because he had no control over his mind-reading, it didn't count as a tool to win. Jasper spent most of the afternoon shaking his head in exasperation, not holding his judgment for his family back. Emmett seemed overjoyed, doing his very best to annoy everyone until they snapped. Alice was only allowed to pitch for obvious reasons, but she occasionally threw pitying looks when she knew someone wasn't going to win, something Edward was definitely using to his advantage.

Esme and Carlisle proved they were the only adults present. Esme spent most of her time telling her children off for cheating or antagonising each other. Carlisle attempted to explain everyone's strategies to the girls as though either of them had any hope of competing against vampires who could hear thoughts and see the future.

For the first time in a long while, Claire found herself laughing without forcing it, she felt more relaxed than she had in weeks.

She was so surprised by the sound escaping her that she almost stopped, until Emmett started arguing with Bella on her ruling for the fifth time and she nearly keeled over in a fit of giggles.

The lightheartedness wouldn't last.

Out of nowhere, Alice went still. The Cullens had rushed over to where she and Bella were and formed a circle around them.

Similar to the incident in Port Angeles, Claire could smell them before she saw them.

But this time, she had a feeling this wasn't a fight she would win as easily.

They emerged from the clearing just a few minutes later.

Three strangers emerged from the trees with the same unnatural grace as the family around her, yet the difference between them was startlingly obvious. The Cullens spent every day hiding their true nature beneath practised smiles and somewhat relaxed demeanours. Decades of living among people had turned the act into second nature.

But these vampires made no such effort.

They had no reason to.

Claire, still adjusting to the reality of the supernatural world, often forgot that there weren't many vampires like the Cullens. Most of their kind followed a more instinctual diet.

Most vampires embraced their place at the top of the food chain — above humans — and had no reason to pretend they were anything other than the gods living among mortals as they viewed themselves to be.

In many ways, they were.

The tallest male stepped forward first, his skin a deep ebony and dreadlocks that ran down to his shoulders, looking as though he had stepped straight from the pages of a magazine despite having just crossed miles of forest barefoot. Beside him was a woman with wild red curls and eyes that seemed to burn with restless energy. There was something about her that screamed she was constantly anticipating danger. The third looked younger, almost boyish in a way, but the illusion was quickly ruined once Claire met his gaze.

Crimson.

So crimson they were almost black. Carlisle had told her their eyes went black when they were hungry.

Claire didn't realise she had zoned out, her eyes locked on the blonde vampire, until growls erupted throughout the field.

The Cullens crouched protectively around the two girls. The dark-haired stranger, who seemed to be the most civilised and articulate among the nomads, held his hand up as he slowly began to back away.

He called upon his two companions to retreat, but the woman held back until the other male— James, turned around and joined them.

Despite the fact no more pitches were thrown, Claire couldn't shake the feeling that the game wasn't over.

Everything moved quickly after that. Carlisle had explained once they reached the Cullen house — Edward and Bella headed to hers to grab some essentials —  that James was a tracker, and he had caught Bella's scent.

Edward's visceral reaction had set him off, making the appeal of hunting the Swan girl even stronger than it would've been.

James was desperate to see how far the Cullens would go to protect the human in their midst.

Claire, who still had blips where she struggled to be around Bella's alluring scent, was admittedly rather relieved. Her friend's scent had masked her own almost entirely, the nomad didn't want the both of them.

She felt sick the second she thought of it.

Her friend was in genuine danger, and her first reaction had been gratitude that she wasn't the one being hunted.

It was selfish.

She was relieved that Edward wasn't around, the two of them had grown rather close, but Claire doubted he would appreciate her feeling glad that his girlfriend had unintentionally become a shield for her.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, Edward had much bigger problems to worry about.

Whilst the rest of the Cullens waited for Bella and Edward to return, they organised themselves to be prepared to take down another vampire. Everyone had agreed that Chief Swan was potentially at risk, they would have to get Bella as far away from town as possible and there was a chance James would go for her father in retaliation.

They gave the role of watching over him to Esme and Claire. None of them could be certain how Claire's strength would hold up against one of their kind, never mind one that feeds on humans, so they agreed it was for the best that she was kept out of the main fight.

Claire didn't fight the decision.

She had a feeling she would regret not putting herself up if something went wrong, but when she thought about arguing, her mind flashed back to those dark eyes on the field.

It terrified her, for the first time in nearly a year, her fear wasn't directed inward. She had truly believed herself to be the worst possible monster imaginable, but now she wasn't so certain.

She had a feeling she would be seeing crimson in her non-existent dreams.

paring(s): jaafar jackson x fem!reader

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summary: jaafar jackson with a popstar girlfriend 𝄞 ˎˊ˗

cw(s): none!

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⋆ bf!jaafar who would attend every. single. one. of your concerts whenever possible

⋆ bf!jaafar who would be in at least one of your music videos

⋆ bf!jaafar who would animatedly tell the entire world that you were his greatest inspiration when he had to transform into a pop superstar

⋆ bf!jaafar who would like any instagram post that is remotely related to you

⋆ bf!jaafar who would hum your songs whilst rehearsing for michael

⋆ bf!jaafar who would become more talkative in interviews when you name is mentioned

⋆ bf!jaafar who would go out and buy all of your albums despite being able to get them for free

⋆ bf!jaafar who would just be there standing holding your bedazzled bag in every paparazzi photo

⋆ bf!jaafar who would take his role as your personal photographer very seriously

⋆ bf!jaafar who would be the muse behind all of your greatest hits

⋆ bf!jaafar who would be more nervous than you at award shows

⋆ bf!jaafar who would be the first person you'd thank in a speech after winning an award

⋆ bf!jaafar who would still look at you with the same love-struck expression he had before either of you became famous no matter how long had passes

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cw ― harassment, violence, suicidal thoughts

⤷ [ it's not extreme, but it could easily be triggering to some readers ]

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Port Angeles was very similar to Forks, yet completely different. For a city, it was by no means busy. But when compared to the sparsely populated town, it felt overwhelming.

Claire couldn't remember the last time she went to the nearby city. After everything, she developed a habit of keeping to herself whenever possible — which wasn't often because Jessica was oddly persuasive.

Shop windows glowed beneath the overcast afternoon sky, as the distant sounds of traffic, slightly too loud conversations, and music blended into a steady hum. Most people were probably heading towards the cinema with the new Vin Diesel film out.

Unfortunately for Bella, who Claire imagined would've much rather they'd follow the crowd, the girls were going dress shopping for prom. After an awkward rejection from said girl, Mike had asked an enthusiastic Jessica to go with him instead — leaving out the part where she was his second choice.

Angela had taken matters into her own hands and asked Eric. He'd accepted so quickly that Claire was fairly certain he'd nearly given himself whiplash. He had also asked Bella to go, but unlike Mike, whose eyes still lingered on the Swan girl, it was as if a switch had been flipped and now he was focused only on Angela.

She could see their relationship lasting longer than Mike and Jessica's.

Not that it would be very difficult.

The girls were now in a small dress shop. Jessica, Angela, and Claire — who had been roped into joining — were trying on different styles and colours as Bella did her best to give advice. Claire appreciated the effort, Bella was not interested in the least but she could see how much it meant to her friends, namely Jessica, and wanted to help as much as she could.

Angela was currently donning a simple lilac dress with a criss-cross style neckline, most of the dresses in the shop were either void of any detailing or covered in tacky beading. The dress was definitely her colour and flowed gracefully around her.

Jessica wore a thullian pink low-cut gown. Bella had choked on her water when she stepped from behind the curtain, thinking the dress was rather provocative for junior prom but also impressed that the girl was comfortable enough in her own skin to wear it. Unlike Angela's more fluid-fitting dress, Jessica's was a snug fit, accentuating her figure.

Claire had been picking through dresses with similar aspects to clothes she would wear daily, obviously with more flair for prom. The last time she had worn a formal dress was probably for a funeral and was void of any personality, but she had her eyes fixed on something that suited the person she was now. The satin was a rich blue-green colour that almost camouflaged in the shadows and shimmered a bright teal whenever it caught the light. Black lace layered across the bodice and trailed down the skirt in organised lines, stitched with tiny beads that sparkled when the hem moved. The thin straps and fitted, almost mermaid shape made it feel more sophisticated than her other clothes, but held the same magical look.

She normally wore more muted shades of purple and red, so Claire was surprised that she loved the dress so much. When she showed the others, Jessica had practically dragged her to the counter to buy it immediately, trying to make her wear it for the rest of the day before realising it was rather impractical.

After two hours of shopping, the girls, minus Bella — who was adamant she wasn't going to prom — had their dresses sorted and were now on the hunt for shoes in different shops. Jessica had a shoe collection large enough to rival a major fashion warehouse, but had insisted it wasn't a complete trip without buying a pair she would only wear once.

Eventually, the girls split up. Angela and Jessica headed to a store to look at shoes and Bella wandered off towards the bookstore she'd been waiting to go to.

Claire chose to follow Bella, Jessica's enthusiasm was never-ending when it came to shopping, and she needed a break to recuperate for dinner.

The bookstore was hidden behind the shops that lined the roads. An older lady was the only other person in sight, standing behind the counter and giving them an inquisitive look as the bell above the door rang and the girls entered.

Bella had wandered off whilst Claire remained relatively near the front of the small shop, looking at the small classics section. She flicked through Crime and Punishment, considering buying it even if it might take her months to get through.

The Swan girl reemerged a few minutes later, holding a battered copy of a book on Quileute legends. It was dark outside now, only the moon providing light in the darker alleys of the city.

The two girls made their way to the restaurant they had agreed to meet at. They were definitely going to be late, as neither had any idea where they were, but Claire had sent Angela and Jessica a text to let them know so they wouldn't report them missing or something.

Claire turned her head when she heard Bella's heartbeat. They had mostly been walking in silence, enjoying each other's quiet company after the busy day. It didn't take long to realise why Bella's heart had spiked.

She could smell them before she spotted them.

The unmistakable odour of cheap alcohol mixed with stale smoke filled her senses. She heard them stumble around aimlessly, maybe three or four of them.

Bella hadn't panicked because she heard them, but because she had seen them.

And they had seen her.

The group of men, definitely not teenagers, had been passing by the mouth of the alley Bella and Claire had been about to walk down before one lagging behind had spotted the two girls. He called his group back before turning into the dark street and heading over to them.

Bella grabbed Claire's arm and dragged them both around the corner, quickening her pace in the hope that the men would lose interest.

The sound of their footsteps echoed off the wet pavement.

"Hey!"

Claire felt Bella flinch as they quickly turned a corner.

The men laughed as they followed. They were walking faster now, catching up to them as the smell got stronger.

"Where you girls going?"

A hand brushed Bella's arm, and not even a second passed before an emphatic crack resonated through the isolated street.

The man who had laid a hand on Bella looked confused for a moment; the alcohol in his system delayed the pain.

For a few seconds at least.

He looked down at his outstretched hand. The limb felt numb as a flash of coldness overcame it before he felt the white-hot agony seize him. His breathing quickened as he took in the sight before him. Jagged pinkish-white bone was visible through the now torn sleeve of his shirt, the navy cloth darkened as blood seeped through the material. His whole body felt unpleasantly damp and cold, he could almost feel his skin pale.

The man didn't realise he had collapsed onto the dank, uneven, stained floor of the alleyway. He heard screaming, who was screaming? There was movement all around him, but he couldn't focus on it as his vision blurred and his ears filled with ringing.

Bella stood in the midst of it all, looking on in shock. The man who had tried to grab her lay motionless on the ground, the only sign that he was still alive was the blood-curdling shrieks erupting from him.

Another had thrown a punch at Claire in retaliation after everyone had paused from the initial attack. She had barely touched his chest, but the impact launched him backwards into the brick wall hard enough to crack it.

The man slid to the ground as another lunged toward her from behind. She ducked automatically without seeing him and shoved him away.

He flew several feet before crashing into a dumpster, the metal screeched in protest as his body rolled across the floor.

There was blood all over Claire's hands, it must've been from the first man. She hardly took notice of it, only feeling the stickiness cover her palms.

She stood protectively in front of Bella as her eyes began to glow a bright yellow and her fangs elongated. The remaining man took one look at her and bolted. The others — minus the one whose arm she had broken — dragged themselves away.

Even once they were gone, she didn't relax. She could still hear them, the ragged breathing of the first man and the hurried footsteps of the others attempting to get as far away as possible.

Claire stared at her hands. She felt no pull towards the blood caked on them. They were shaking, but not from fear.

It was from how natural it had felt.

How good it felt.

She had spent almost a year convincing herself she was still human in every way but literally.

But standing there in the middle of the alley, having just beaten the living hell out of four creeps, she didn't feel human at all.

"Claire?"

Bella's voice sounded distant, she barely registered it as she fled the dark street. She could hear Edward's Volvo speeding down the road, he would reach them in just a few seconds.

The rain had started sometime after she left.

At first, it had been nothing more than a mist softly drifting through the city streets, a common sign that it was about to pour down like there was no tomorrow. Now it fell steadily from the cloudy sky, soaking everything it touched.

Claire sat on a weathered wooden bench overlooking the slightly run-down city.

Port Angeles stretched around her in blurred shapes and scattered lights. A few distant street lamps cast yellow circles across the wet pavement, their reflections trembling in the puddles that flooded uneven gaps. The dark water of the harbour rolled lazily against the docks, swallowing the glow of the city and fracturing it into ribbons of gold.

The hum of cars passing in distant streets was muffled. Footsteps disappeared almost as soon as they were made. Even the ocean seemed quieter beneath the endless patter of water from busted gutters.

Claire sat motionless beneath the downpour.

Water dripped from her hair, trickling down the curve of her face and soaking through her clothes until they clung to her skin.

Her hands rested in her lap. The rain had washed the blood away long ago, but she could still picture it in her head.

Every time she blinked she saw bone forcing its way through skin. None of them stood a chance against her. It made her stomach twist, the first realisation that she couldn't go on pretending she was human when she was capable of such a level of violence with complete ease.

Claire had spent almost a year telling herself she was still the same person. That the fangs, the bloodlust, the unnatural strength were all temporary. A sickness, something that would eventually be fixed.

But she hadn't felt sick standing in that alley.

She had felt unstoppable.

A shudder took over her body.

She was grateful she had been able to protect Bella. She didn't want to think about what those men were planning to do if she hadn't stopped them. But the knowledge that they too, were evil brought her little comfort.

The alternative haunted her just as much. If she had still been human, she would've been helpless. If Edward hadn't already been racing towards them, there was nobody around to stop them. The only reason they walked away was because they realised they weren't the strongest predator in that alley.

Her gaze drifted back toward the dark water beyond the docks. The rain clumped on her eyelashes as her wet hair stuck to her neck.

As far as she knew, the only way out was a wooden stake through her heart. Obviously, if she stopped taking Moira's blood substitute she would die, but she doubted she or the Cullens would let that happen.

Claire wondered how long she could go on rejecting the monster inside her.

What if Carlisle never found a cure?

What if Moira was wrong that it even existed in the first place?

What if this was her eternity?

She couldn't do this for much longer, never mind eternity.

Claire resigned herself to sitting in the rain and contemplating whether she should even bother waiting for a solution that might never come, before realising she could no longer feel the rain hitting the top of her head. Confused, she blinked and slowly looked upward.

An umbrella was held above her by Edward Cullen.

He stood next to the bench, his face twisted into a pained expression.

It held no judgment, only understanding.

The rain ran off the edges of the umbrella in steady streams around them while the city lights dimly reflected in his golden eyes.

After a long moment of silence, Edward sat down beside her.

For the first time since what happened in the alley, Claire felt her body succumb to the mental exhaustion. She couldn't hide anything from him — nothing that wasn't about the supernatural at least — so there was no point pretending everything was okay when he could literally hear that it wasn't.

He drove her to the Cullen house. By the time they arrived, the rain had stopped, the lingering smell of petrichor in the trees surrounding them being all that remained.

The front door opened before they even reached the porch, the Cullen matriarch's heart-shaped face appearing instantly.

"Oh, sweetheart."

The concern in her voice nearly undid her more than she already was. Claire suddenly understood why people cried when their moms hugged them. She and her mother always had a close bond when she was growing up, but having to keep such a large secret from her pushed them further and further apart.

Before she could protest, Esme had already pulled her inside. Her grip was warm and comforting despite her cool touch.

Rosalie joined them a second later. She only took one look at Claire's drenched figure and defeated expression before saying, "Bathroom."

"What?"

"Now."

Twenty minutes later, Claire found herself sitting on the edge of a bathtub as Rosalie gently combed through knots in her mostly damp hair.

Downstairs, Esme was doing her best to make food even though Claire technically didn't need it.

Claire had relaxed more, she was far from okay, but she wasn't alone.

She was unaware she was still capable of feeling such exhaustion until she no longer had to be strong.

Claire had eventually fallen asleep curled up beneath one of Esme's knitted blankets, exhaustion overpowering the adrenaline and guilt.

Rosalie developed a habit of finding reasons to walk through the room every ten minutes, not bothering to pretend she wasn't checking over Claire each time. Esme sat beside the girl, pulling her blanket back up whenever it slipped down. Emmett and Jasper had gone downstairs, wanting to give the girl some space.

Carlisle and Edward had left shortly after he had dropped Claire off. They were hunting down the men to take them to the police station, or covering Claire's tracks if needed.

After everything that had occurred earlier, things had settled and were feeling peaceful again.

Until Alice froze.

Her golden eyes dulled as they fixed on something unseen to everyone else.

A vision.

The occupied vampires in the room didn't notice, if they did pick up on her halted movements, they brushed it off. She often had random visions, mostly about the weather, and there was no threat they needed to consider.

For a moment, all she saw was sunlight.

It wasn't just a small breach through some pine trees, it was everywhere. Somewhere warm, with stone buildings and ancient streets. Voices drifting through the narrow streets in a language she recognised, but couldn't quite piece together exactly what it was.

Then she saw Claire.

She was different. Not older — not physically, at least. There was something in the way she carried herself that made her look like a confident young woman rather than a skittish teenage girl.

Alice couldn't tell how far into the future the vision was. She could only pray to whatever God might exist that it wasn't decades away. It was difficult to tell if she was completely immortal, Claire's species didn't outwardly portray their vampirism — but she didn't look any different than how she did currently.

Vision Claire laughed at something someone beside her said.  The figure next to her turned slightly.

A man.

He was tall, lean, with dark-blondish hair and a pale complexion. Alice was unable to make out his features, she doubted she would've known who he was with full visibility anyway.

One thing that was clear as day, though, was his eyes.

Burgundy.

The vision honed in on them for a moment before dropping to his chest — where an all too familiar pendant rested comfortably.

Like it had been there for centuries.

The vision shifted back.

Claire reached out and took the stranger's hand, she held it with a certainty Alice had never seen in the girl before. She knew this man— this vampire, well. The seer recognised the fond look on Claire's face.

It was one she had shown Jasper many times.

The image vanished, and the living room snapped back into focus.

Across the room, Claire remained blissfully unaware, sleeping so peacefully no one would think she was in a house full of vampires.

She looked nothing like the woman from the vision. She was so human.

Alice stared at her.

Only one explanation came to mind, why Claire seemed so different — so inhuman.

Somewhere between now and that future, Claire became a vampire. A fully-fledged immortal.

Alice was unsettled. Not because of the vampire and the coven he was a part of, not even the fact that Claire would eventually become the very thing she was fighting so hard against.

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After days of pestering, Claire agreed to go to La Push beach with all her friends. Jessica told her Bella would be joining as well. Surprisingly. It was clear the girl wasn't the fondest of large-group activities but she was also determined to keep everyone happy.

Claire and Bella continued to grow closer. The Swan girl told Claire about Edward and how they seemed to be getting along  — most days, at least. His mood swings had a habit of getting in the way.

Not much had changed between Claire and the Cullens. They didn't hang out at school like they were all best friends, although Alice would probably love that. But they had her back. Claire often caught them checking up on her to make sure she was alright.

She had told Moira about everything. The witch seemed ecstatic that Claire now had people who could understand the whole vampirism thing. It wasn't exactly the same, but the Cullens also refrained from drinking human blood, so they were somewhat able to understand her struggle.

Claire was still very upset with herself after what almost happened in the hospital. She had spent months telling herself that she wasn't a monster — not yet. That she could be cured, and everything would go back to normal.

She almost ruined both of those things in a single afternoon.

The water at La Push was dark grey, refusing to change shade even when the sun hit it directly. Only a thin border of actual sand sat at the water's edge before it gave way to millions of smooth stones. Most looked grey from a distance, but they were actually a mixture of different colours. Huge driftwood trees were scattered along the tide line, some piled together while others lay on their own. A brisk wind greeted everyone as they climbed out of Mike's Suburban, salty air sweeping off the waves and towards the shore.

The group moved toward a circle of driftwood that had clearly been used for beach fires before. Massive logs were arranged in a rough ring overlooking the water, weathered smooth by years of salt and rain.

Eric immediately volunteered to gather firewood even though nobody had actually asked him to. Tyler and Mike followed anyway — Claire suspected it was because neither of them trusted Eric to survive five minutes in the woods unsupervised.

Jessica ran to the largest driftwood log before anyone else could claim it.

"Mine."

"You realise we're not five?" Angela asked.

Jessica ignored her completely.

Claire dropped onto one of the larger logs, stretching her legs out in front of her. The stones shifted beneath her shoes with a grinding crunch.

The ocean was loud here. Not loud enough to bother her enhanced hearing, though. Waves crashed against the shore in an endless rhythm before retreating into the dark water.

Her gaze wandered across the beach. Bella was sitting with a boy Claire vaguely recognised from somewhere. He had long dark hair and a smile that could only be described as hopelessly lovestruck.

Bella seemed to know him already. She watched as something lit up behind Bella's eyes — the look she always got when curiosity got the better of her.

The pair stood and began walking down the shoreline together, deep in conversation.

Eric finally emerged from the nearby trees carrying approximately three sticks and looking incredibly pleased with himself.

"I found firewood."

Mike walked past carrying an entire fallen branch over one shoulder, whilst Tyler was dragging something that looked like half a tree.

Jessica immediately burst out laughing.

Eric looked down at his collection, "Oh."

Angela offered him a sympathetic smile.

"You tried."

The next twenty minutes were spent watching the boys argue over how to build a fire. Claire was pretty sure nobody present actually knew what they were doing: Tyler claimed he had camping experience, Mike claimed Tyler was lying, and Eric claimed he had watched a documentary once.

Claire stretched out along the driftwood log, "Wow, this is better than reality TV."

"It really is," Angela agreed.

Jessica leaned forward.

"Five dollars says Tyler sets himself on fire."

"I'll take that bet."

"You have no faith in him."

"No, I have plenty of faith."

Claire watched Tyler nearly trip over a log.

She held out her hand, "Deal."

Jessica grinned and shook it.

A sudden shout drew the girls' attention back to the boys.

Tyler had finally succeeded in lighting something.

Unfortunately, it wasn't the fire, but rather part of his sleeve.

Mike nearly fell over laughing as Tyler threw himself around, trying to save his jacket and not burn to death in the process.

Jessica looked smug, "Pay up."

"This is the worst day of my life."

"Claire!"

Her head immediately turned. She spotted the familiar 13-year-old waving in the distance, by the looks of it, he had been jumping off of driftwood logs twice his size.

She stood up and barely managed five steps before he crashed into her. If she had still been human, the collision would've knocked her flat on her back.

Seth immediately looked disappointed, "Aw, you didn't even stumble."

"That's because you're tiny."

"Hey! I'll have you know I've grown since you last saw me."

"Since Thursday?"

"Yes."

Claire held him at arm's length, squinting her eyes to spot a difference. He looked exactly the same as always. The human embodiment of a golden retriever.

A very short golden retriever.

Behind her, Jessica was watching the interaction with visible confusion, "Who is that?"

Claire turned slightly before pointing at Seth.

"This is Seth Clearwater."

Seth immediately straightened like his spine was being ironed out. Acting as though he was being presented in front of a royal court.

"Hi."

"Everyone, this is Seth. Seth, these are my friends."

She pointed around the group.

"Jessica."

"Aw."

"Angela."

Angela smiled warmly, "Hey."

"Mike."

"What's up?"

"Tyler."

"Yo."

"Eric."

Eric just waved enthusiastically, his mouth stuffed with marshmallows.

Seth waved back with equal enthusiasm. He dropped down beside where Claire had been on the driftwood log, like he'd been part of the group the whole time.

Nobody questioned it. Their familiarity made the introduction feel almost unnecessary. Within moments, he was talking to everyone as though he'd always been part of the group.

As evening approached, the fire became the centre of attention again. The sky had begun turning shades of orange and purple, the last traces of sunlight reflecting off the dark water. The temperature dropped with the fading daylight, and people gradually drifted closer to the warmth of the flames.

Bella and her friend— Jacob, had returned and were now sitting with everyone else. His two friends, Quil and Embry, had also joined, turning the circle around the fire into a crowded mess of teenagers talking over one another.

Eric had passed around the marshmallows so everyone could make s'mores instead of just raw-dogging them from the bag. Claire wasn't sure who brought them — the pack was massive, so it must've taken up someone's whole bag.

Jessica immediately set hers on fire.

"Oops."

"How?"

"It's literally your first marshmallow."

"I work fast."

Next to Claire, Seth was focused entirely on his own marshmallow. The 13-year-old held it over the fire with all the patience of someone waiting for paint to dry.

Which was to say, absolutely none.

After approximately ten seconds, he sighed dramatically, "This takes forever."

"That's because you're supposed to toast it," Claire told him. Rotating her own marshmallow with precision.

"I am toasting it."

"No, you're waving it around like you're trying to conduct an orchestra."

Apparently deciding he'd waited long enough, he shoved the entire marshmallow directly into the flames.

Claire immediately covered her face.

"Trust the process."

"There is no process."

A few moments later, Seth triumphantly pulled it back out and... the marshmallow was completely black. It was also still on fire.

Several people turned to stare at him, nobody entirely sure of what they had just witnessed.

"Dude," Someone whispered.

"It's perfect."

Before anyone could make any other comments, Seth quickly grabbed two crackers and smashed the burning marshmallow between them before stuffing the entire thing into his mouth.

He immediately started choking as Claire watched on in horror.

"You're unbelievable."

"Worth it," Seth replied between coughs.

For a while, conversation drifted lazily between everyone. The ocean roared somewhere beyond the darkness, and sparks occasionally floated upward into the evening sky.

Claire found herself relaxing.

Seth was currently arguing with Quil about whether burnt marshmallows were objectively superior as Jessica was trying — and failing — to make another one without setting it on fire. Mike was pretending not to watch Bella every five seconds, definitely noticing the closeness between her and Jacob.

And Bella herself seemed distracted, staring out toward the waves as though she was still thinking about whatever Jacob had told her during their walk.

Claire followed her gaze briefly before looking away.

Whatever it was, it had clearly given Bella something to think about.

"Mom said you're babysitting me tomorrow."

Her attention was pulled back by the boy sitting next to her. He kept interrupting when he thought she was forgetting about him. 

"I am not babysitting you."

"Watching me."

"You're thirteen."

"Prime babysitting age if you ask me. Hey, can we — or, well, can you make cookies?"

"Why am I making them?"

"Because you're better at it."

"That's not true."

"Last time I tried, Leah said they looked radioactive,"

"What did I say looked radioactive?" A voice from behind them called.

Seth immediately winced.

"Oh no."

Claire turned around. Leah Clearwater stood a few feet away with her arms folded across her chest. The older girl looked thoroughly unimpressed by whatever conversation she'd just walked into.

Behind her stood Sam Uley.

Claire had met Leah a handful of times before. The older girl had always struck her as someone who loved her family fiercely but preferred to express it through sarcasm and vague threats rather than anything openly affectionate. She was the sort of person who would complain the entire time she was helping someone, but would proceed to act offended if they refused her help afterwards.

Before Claire could say anything, Seth immediately took it upon himself to begin introductions.

"Leah, these are Claire's friends."

Leah glanced around the circle gathered near the fire with a judgy eye before looking back at her brother.

"I really don't care."

Seth looked personally offended.

"Why are you like this?"

"Because somebody has to be."

The argument continued from there, neither of them seeming particularly invested in winning so much as continuing the conversation. Claire had seen enough siblings interact to know that some people communicated primarily through insults.

As Seth and Leah continued arguing, Claire's attention drifted elsewhere. She realised Sam hadn't said a single word since arriving.

He stood slightly behind Leah, one hand shoved into the pocket of his jacket as the wind coming off the ocean tugged at his dark hair. He wasn't looking at anyone else gathered around the fire. Instead, his gaze kept returning to Claire.

It wasn't necessarily an unfriendly look — if anything, he seemed confused.

The expression vanished whenever she caught it directly, but each time she glanced away and looked back a few moments later, she found him studying her again.

It was strange, she had never met him before, so it wasn't like she had ever made a bad impression.

Claire wasn't particularly memorable. She was an average 17-year-old from Forks who occasionally babysat Seth — and just so happened to be a vampire for the time being. There wasn't any reason for a total stranger to keep looking at her like he was trying to place a face he should have recognised.

She dismissed it. Maybe Seth had just spoken about her enough that Sam felt like he already knew who she was — it certainly wouldn't be the first time.

Sam wished the explanation were that simple.

Ever since he first shifted after the Cullens moved to town, he had become accustomed to trusting instincts he couldn't always explain. They were impossible to ignore once they appeared, lingering somewhere at the back of his mind until he dealt with whatever was setting them off.

Claire Jones set every one of those instincts on edge.

It was enough to keep him on edge, his gaze drifting back towards her whenever he wasn't actively forcing himself to focus on something else.

She looked completely ordinary.

She laughed at Seth's terrible jokes and rolled her eyes when he became dramatic. She joined in with her friends' conversations and seemed just as embarrassed as any other teenager when the circle's attention fixed on her for too long.

There was nothing visibly wrong with the girl, yet the nagging feeling remained.

Sam had spent months learning what vampires were supposed to smell like, what they looked like, and even the subtle differences in the way they moved and sounded. He knew the scent well enough now that he could recognise it instantly — an overpowering, sickly-sweet stench that lingered in the back of his throat long after they were gone. He knew their skin resembled polished marble, cold and unnaturally corpse-like, and that sunlight supposedly made them sparkle like diamonds. He'd never understood why — it seemed like a ridiculous weakness for creatures designed to remain hidden.

He also knew that cold ones were meant to be attractive. Everything about them existed to lure people closer; their voices, their faces, even the way they carried themselves. They were predators built to draw prey in.

But Claire Jones wasn't unnaturally beautiful. From what he'd seen, she wasn't especially graceful either. She slouched when she sat, sprawled across driftwood logs, and laughed too loudly at her friends' jokes. There was nothing calculated about her movements.

If anything, she seemed like a perfectly normal "babysitter".

The longer he paid attention to it, the more it bothered him.

"Sam."

Leah's voice sharply cut through his thoughts.

He looked over and she was staring at him suspiciously.

"What?"

"Did you even hear what I said?"

"Claire babysits me," Seth contributed. 

The entire group turned towards him. Confusion was evident on Leah's face, wondering why her brother felt it was a necessary piece of information.

"Why would you say that?" Leah demanded.

Seth shrugged, "I thought context was important."

"That isn't context."

"It's relevant information."

"To what?"

"The discussion?"

Once again, the conversation had completely derailed into an argument between the Clearwater siblings while everyone else pretended they weren't eavesdropping.

Claire found herself smiling despite the awkwardness of it all, whatever strange moment between her and Sam had passed and seemed forgotten now.

Later, as people began gathering bags and extinguishing the fire, she caught Sam watching her one last time from across the beach. The uncertain look had returned, subtle enough that nobody else would have noticed it.

For some reason, it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Something inside her recognised that look.

It was the exact look she used to give the Cullens when she found out they were vampires.

˗ˏˋ twilight ˎˊ˗

THE CULLENS

... to be added

THE SHIFTERS

... to be added

THE VOLTURI

... to be added

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

MY BABYSITTER'S A VAMPIRE

TWILIGHT book 1 / 4

→ Claire Jones wasn't human anymore, but she wasn't exactly a vampire either. Trapped somewhere between life and death, Claire is prepared to do whatever it takes to find a cure and save herself from eternal damnation.

In which Seth Clearwater's babysitter turns out to be more than what meets the eye.

prologue

ᥫ᭡ chapter 1 ⋆ the new girl

ᥫ᭡ chapter 2 ⋆ evanescence

ᥫ᭡ chapter 3 ⋆ cold-hearted girl

ᥫ᭡ chapter 4 ⋆ the cullens

ᥫ᭡ chapter 5 ⋆ la push

ᥫ᭡ chapter 6 ⋆ moral dilemma

⤷ [ contains themes some readers may find disturbing ]

ᥫ᭡ chapter 7 ⋆ the tracker

ᥫ᭡ chapter 8 ⋆ epilogue

word count: est. 25,866

↳ the story continues

THE GIRL NEXT DOOR

NEW MOON book 2/4

→ Bella Swan wasn't the only one left behind. As old wounds reopen and new dangers emerge, Claire Jones struggles to accept her prophesied fate while the cure slips further and further out of reach.

In which Claire Jones leaves the vampires in the past and steps into wolf territory.

ᥫ᭡ chapter 1 ⋆ birthday bash

ᥫ᭡ chapter 2 ⋆ who's crying now

ᥫ᭡ chapter 3 ⋆ sleepovers

ᥫ᭡ chapter 4 ⋆ jacob black

ᥫ᭡ chapter 5 ⋆ small town charm

ᥫ᭡ chapter 6 ⋆ the stranger

ᥫ᭡ chapter 7 ⋆ better off alone

ᥫ᭡ chapter 8 ⋆ pure heart

ᥫ᭡ chapter 9 ⋆ finale

word count est.

↳ the story continues

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

˗ˏˋ celebrityˎˊ˗

JAAFAR JACKSON

headcannons

‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹ pop star

MICHAEL JACKSON

oneshots

⊹₊⟡⋆˚ boyfriend break ... to be added

⊹₊⟡⋆˚ fantasy ... to be added

⊹₊⟡⋆˚ superstar ... to be added

headcannons

‧₊˚♪ 𝄞₊˚⊹ yes and? ... to be added

PRINCE

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

It was July, 2004.

Forks was quiet as usual. That was probably the first thing anyone noticed if they were new, whether they were staying or just passing through.

Cities had a constant hum to them. Traffic, people, distant sirens, televisions leaking through cramped apartment walls. Even at night, there was always something happening somewhere.

Forks was different.

Particularly in summer, the town seemed to settle into itself once the sun finally dipped below the horizon. The endless forests surrounding Forks swallowed most of the noise until only the occasional passing car or distant barking dog disturbed the quiet. Everyone in the small community treasured these rare sunny days. The air was warm and humid, but never unbearably so, offering a welcome respite from the town's usual endless rain.

Tonight was the sort of evening where people left their windows open and sat on their porches long after dinner had ended. The temperature had cooled noticeably now that the sun had disappeared behind the trees, but there was little wind, leaving the night pleasantly mild. Somewhere behind her, music drifted from the house where the party was still in full swing, punctuated by bursts of laughter and the occasional shout from someone gathered on the back deck. Beyond that, the street was almost completely silent.

Claire Jones walked slowly down the empty road, her mother's heels dangling from one hand as the 16-year-old followed the familiar road home.

The rough concrete felt cool beneath her feet. Normally, she would've been concerned about germs, but not tonight.

Every now and then the wind carried bursts of laughter, muffled conversations, and the distant thump of someone blasting 'Yeah' by Usher drifting through the trees before fading once more into silence.

Claire preferred it like this. She didn't hate parties, but the overcrowding and constant loudness took a lot of the fun out of it for her.

A small smile tugged at her lips as she glanced back over her shoulder.

Somewhere inside that house, Jessica Stanley was probably still trying to flirt with Mike Newton by showing off her terrible dance moves, likely bumping into a bunch of people in the process. Angela was probably standing close to her, apologising for Jessica every time she hit an unsuspecting victim. Eric Yorkie was presumably taking photos of the event to prove he was there, and Tyler Crowley would almost certainly be trying to perform dangerous stunts in front of a large crowd.

It was the sort of memories people were supposed to have from high school.

The smile faded slightly. Tonight hadn't gone exactly how she'd planned. A stupid argument, the kind that only happened because everyone involved was tired and emotional — possibly drunk — and had absolutely no reason to be arguing in the first place.

Her fingers tightened slightly around the pair of heels hanging from her hand. Maybe leaving had been slightly overdramatic.

Scratch that, it had definitely been dramatic.

But she wasn't about to walk back in there and admit that. Her dignity had standards, albeit very low standards, but standards nonetheless.

The branches swayed softly as a light breeze drifted through the trees on either side of her.

Claire paused for a moment, tipped her head back,  and looked up.

The sky above Forks wasn't particularly impressive compared to other places. There were too many clouds most nights for anyone to stargaze properly. But tonight they were out of hiding, tiny points of silver peeking through gaps in the clouds.

It was so peaceful. Even after an argument, the calming atmosphere Forks carried felt almost addictive. Many of her friends had plans to move away for college, to escape the small town life. But Claire had always enjoyed it, it was so safe, nothing ever happened in Forks. And on the odd occasion something did happen, which was often just parties being too loud, you could always count on Chief Swan coming to the rescue.

Everyone had their own opinions about the ups and downs of small towns. One of them was that everybody knows everybody, the my business is your business sort of thing. Claire thought there were many positives to Forks' small population, such as knowing each other well and being able to have complete faith in the police.

Well, knowing most people well.

The Cullens were a popular topic of conversation — not just because they were new, having arrived the previous year — but because they kept to themselves. It wasn't a bad thing, some people just preferred privacy more than others. Some understood them wanting peace but others saw it as the family looking down on the rest of the town.

It didn't help people's opinions that they were undeniably rich.

The family was made up of a doctor, his wife, and five impossibly beautiful foster children. They were also kept in the spotlight due to their peculiar ages, with Doctor Cullen and his wife looking like they could be fresh out of college and having five foster teenagers under their roof.

None of them were related, but it was curious that they all held the same unique golden eyes.

It had been almost a year since they first moved, and the hype had mostly died down as people got used to their enigmatic presence. Jessica still occasionally brought them up.

She turned a corner, and the sounds of the party grew even fainter.

Now there was only the rustling of leaves overhead and the distant chirping of crickets hidden somewhere amongst the undergrowth. Most houses along the street were dark.

A porch light glowed here and there, televisions flickered behind curtains as families settled down for the night.

She'd always liked walking; it was a regular habit for her to go on walks in her free time, but her parents despised it. Her mother constantly worried somebody would snatch her off the street.

Claire maintained that nobody was kidnapping a teenage girl from Forks. She suspected no one was bothered enough to make the effort as they would undoubtedly be caught quickly, with there being such a limited number of potential suspects.

She was laughing slightly to herself when she noticed somebody standing on the pavement across the road from her. Claire slowed, she wasn't frightened. It was just unexpected to see anybody else outside so far from the party.

The figure, she couldn't make out their face from the distance, stood beneath a streetlamp further ahead. They were tall, likely a man due to their leaner stature with broad shoulders.

Probably someone walking home or someone waiting for a ride.

The thought barely registered before she looked away. She shouldn't be so shocked that other people existed.

She continued walking.

The air smelled faintly of pine needles and damp earth. She couldn't hear the sounds from the party anymore.

As she passed the person on the other side of the road, she didn't notice the figure had disappeared as the streetlamp flickered off. She didn't think about it again, she would only get herself worked up if she started stressing about Forks being haunted.

Instead, her thoughts drifted toward college applications. In two years, she'd graduate. She still hadn't decided where she planned to go. Her parents wanted her to stay in Washington, she didn't want to leave, but Claire was entertaining increasingly unrealistic dreams of moving somewhere warm enough to wear cute skirts year-round. Nothing was decided yet.

There was still plenty of time.

She knew she wanted to travel. Maybe when she was done with college though, she didn't trust she would ever return to get higher education if she took a gap year. Life was so short, she wanted to see everything the world had to offer.

Visit old castles in Europe, drink coffee in tiny cafés, and take terrible tourist photos.

Claire loved how endless the world felt as a teenager, she didn't have any set-in-stone obligations to worry about yet. It was like every possibility was waiting patiently around the corner. The certainty that everything important was still waiting for her.

She smiled again before she froze as something felt wrong.

Like someone was watching her.

Claire turned her head slowly, afraid of what she might find. Behind her, the road was dark, she could see street lamps in the far distance, but the ones near her were all turned off.

There were no cars, no pedestrians, no movement, no sound, no—

The crickets had stopped.

She hadn't even realised they were gone until now.

The silence no longer felt peaceful.

The forest bordering the road suddenly felt much closer than before. The dark tree line stretched endlessly in both directions, thick enough to swallow whatever was hiding beyond it.

"Get a grip," she muttered under her breath.

She started walking again. Faster this time. Not running, there was no need to run.

The uneasy feeling lingered anyway.

Then she heard it.

Footsteps.

Claire froze, the sound stopped instantly.

Her pulse quickened.

Slowly, she turned around again.

The road behind her was empty.

She stared for several seconds before shaking her head.

It was probably an animal. A deer. Forks had thousands of deer.

The explanation sounded reasonable enough right up until she started walking again and the footsteps returned.

One.

Two.

Three.

They weren't loud. Under normal circumstances, she probably wouldn't have noticed them at all. But panic sharpened every sense she had.

She didn't turn around again.

For the first time that night, she considered turning around and going back to the party. The thought barely formed before something moved at the edge of her vision.

A figure.

Standing between the trees. Watching her.

Claire's breath caught.

The silhouette was barely visible amongst the darkness. Claire's eyes forced her to blink and the figure was gone. Every rational thought she possessed immediately began fighting for control.

It was a trick of the light.

A shadow.

A branch.

Even just someone from the party playing a joke.

Anything except what her instincts were screaming.

Run.

Claire had only taken one step backwards before she bumped into something.

Into someone.

Far behind her, the party was still in full swing, and a few people gathered on the back deck paused when they thought they heard something.

A distant scream.

Brief, only for about a second before it cut out.

One of the boys turned in the direction it came from, "Did you hear that?"

"What?" Another asked.

"I dunno. Thought somebody screamed."

A girl laughed from beside them, "Probably just some drunk idiot falling into a bush."

The conversation moved on immediately, the music kept playing, and people kept laughing and enjoying themselves.

And no one went looking.

Claire didn't know what to expect when Dr Cullen's car pulled up in front of his house. After he caught her in the hospital, he had suggested they go somewhere more private — somewhere away from blood. He said his family would be interested in being involved as well, if it was okay with her.

Now she stood in front of a timeless house painted a soft, faded white. It was three stories tall, rectangular, with a deep porch that wrapped around the first story. The building itself was at least a hundred years old, and the windows and doors must've been part of the original structure — or an incredible restoration.

Dr Cullen— Carlisle, led her to the front door, opening it and gesturing for her to enter first. Claire awkwardly remained rooted to her spot.

"Uhm, I uh- I need permission to enter." She avoided looking at him. She was used to waiting for permission to enter by now, but she had never told anyone she literally couldn't cross the threshold unless they told her she could.

Carlisle blinked.

For a brief moment, genuine surprise crossed his face before his expression softened into understanding.

"Of course," he said gently. "Claire, you are welcome in our home. Please come in."

Claire released an unneeded breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding and stepped into the house.

She was shocked by how open the place was, several walls of what likely used to be many different rooms had been knocked down, creating one wide space. The very back wall was made entirely of glass, and a massive curved staircase filled the left of the room.

As she was taking in the house, which was various shades of white, she noticed that it was utterly silent.

No heartbeats.

The realisation shouldn't have startled her. She already knew what they were. Still, she was so used to being around humans that it unsettled her.

"You can hear that?" Carlisle asked. He seemed to notice her hesitation in front of the door.

"More like I can hear nothing."

He led her up the stairs, and she assumed they were heading towards the living room. It was, and every member of the Cullen family was already waiting.

This wasn't intimidating at all. Not even a little bit.

Esme stood once she appeared in the doorway. There was something immediately maternal about her. It wasn't her appearance, but the way she smiled.

"Hello, Claire."

The warmth in her voice made Claire feel about twelve years old.

"Hi."

Emmett grinned from where he was sprawled across a sofa, a game controller in his hand.

"So you're the non-human-girl."

Claire's nose scrunched up. Why couldn't he have just said vampire?

"You're the reason nobody takes cryptids seriously."

Emmett barked out a laugh whilst Rosalie visibly looked offended on his behalf.

"That's the first thing you say to someone when you enter their home?"

"He started it, and anyway, look at him!"

Emmett looked delighted, like he had been waiting for someone to join in with his banter.

Jasper fought back a smile. He was also holding a controller. Claire's observation skills caught up to speed, and she realised they had been playing Mario Kart before she arrived.

Carlisle moved towards an armchair.

"Please, sit wherever you'd like."

Claire settled onto the edge of a sofa, immediately wishing she hadn't as now everyone was looking at her.

After a few moments of silence, Claire sighed.

"Well."

"I know you're vampires."

The room remained silent.

"I'm also a vampire."

"Well, half-vampire— fledgling if we're being specific," She added.

Rosalie frowned immediately, "A what?"

"A fledgling."

"That's not a thing."

"According to the woman who explained it to me, it is."

"And who exactly is this woman?"

Claire grimaced, "That's an even longer story."

"Perhaps we should start with introductions," Carlisle suggested. Now interested in hearing about fledglings.

"I know who all of you are."

"Personally."

"Oh."

Introductions took several minutes— mostly because Emmett kept interrupting.

Once everyone had settled again, Carlisle folded his hands together.

"Claire."

His tone became more serious, but she could still hear the curiosity in his voice.

"What exactly are you?"

"I don't really know. I'm a vampire, but I'm not like you, I guess?" 

The answer seemed to surprise them.

"You don't know?" Rosalie repeated.

Claire shook her head.

"I was attacked last July when I was walking home from a party. I don't remember much. I never saw who did it, and I don't know why they left me alive either. I remember being scared, thinking someone was following me, then I was grabbed, and something sharp was in my neck. I must've blacked out because a while later I woke up, it was still the same night, so I can't have been unconscious for long."

Carlisle was quiet for a long moment.

"You transformed immediately?"

Claire nodded, "Once I woke up, everything was different. I mean, I could hear the party loud and clear even though I was too far to hear anything before I was attacked."

"That's impossible," Rosalie said.

"And yet, here I am."

Carlisle's brow furrowed, "You experienced no burning? No venom spreading through your body? A vampire transformation should've taken three days."

"No, I felt the pain in my neck," Claire shook her head. "But no burning. Except for the hunger."

Carlisle leaned back in his chair, looking genuinely perplexed, "Every vampire I have ever known underwent the same transformation. The venom rewrites the body over several days."

"Then whatever bit me wasn't one of yours."

The room grew silent again, and Claire took that as her cue to continue.

"I found out I wasn't human pretty quickly, no idea what I was yet," Claire paused. "But I accidentally ripped a sink out of the wall."

Emmett looked impressed, he even raised his hand for a high-five, "Nice."

"Thank you."

"You are not helping," Rosalie muttered.

Claire found herself smiling despite everything.

Carlisle leaned forward slightly.

"You never found the one responsible?"

"No," Claire shook her head. "You're the only other vampires I've come across."

"I don't even know if they meant to turn me."

The admission left the room quiet.

Because that was perhaps the worst part. There was a small chance it was someone she had spoken to before, especially if they weren't like the Cullens, it would've been easier to blend in. But the likelihood that she had simply been easy prey made many in the room feel even more sympathy for her. This whole thing could've been avoided entirely.

Esme's expression softened, "You've been alone this entire time?"

"Mostly," Claire hesitated. "I met someone eventually, but even then she can't fully understand."

Carlisle's eyes sharpened slightly.

"The woman you mentioned?"

"Moira."

Several curious looks followed.

"She's... complicated."

"That's never a good sign," Jasper said.

"She told me I'm not a vampire— not yet, at least."

"Then what are you?" Edward asked, frustration lacing his features. He was unable to read her mind, it must've been whenever she thought of supernatural stuff that the static appeared.

"A fledgling."

Nobody spoke, they didn't know what to say. The term meant nothing to them.

"According to Moira, fledglings are the first step to becoming a vampire. A person who has been bitten becomes a fledgling first, and if they drink human blood, they complete the transformation into a full vampire."

Claire shifted slightly in her seat.

"Apparently full vampires get stronger as they age. Older ones can do things like fly and use hypnosis."

"Once someone becomes a vampire, that's it. You can't die naturally and you can't be cured. Fledglings are different. Most of them die after twenty-eight days if they don't drink human blood."

"But you didn't," Carlisle noted.

"Moira helps with that," Claire said. "She makes a substitute that keeps me alive. She also did something so I still age — just more slowly than a human would. She's hoping it'll mean that if I ever find a cure, it'll be like I was never turned in the first place."

That got everyone's attention.

"Be cured?" Carlisle asked.

Rosalie had gone completely still.

Claire nodded, "Moira has been looking. She says it takes a very powerful witch to make the cure, so it's very rare, also because hardly any fledglings can abstain from human blood. And even if they did, they don't have Moira around to stop them from dying."

Carlisle was quiet for a moment before saying, "The hospital."

Claire immediately knew what he was referring to. Every pair of golden eyes in the room shifted towards her.

"What about it?" she asked weakly.

Carlisle's expression remained kind, though there was concern behind it now.

"You were struggling."

Claire wished the floor would open and swallow her.

"You were losing control?" Esme asked softly.

The question wasn't judgemental. Somehow, that made it worse.

Claire looked down at her hands, "A little."

"A little?" Edward repeated.

Claire groaned.

"Fine. More than a little."

The room fell silent.

"The blood drive?" Carlisle asked.

She nodded.

Jasper sat forward, "How close?"

Claire hesitated.

"I don't know."

"You do know," Jasper said, pressing softly.

"I was thinking about it," Claire grimaced. "I wasn't going to do anything."

"I knew it was wrong. I knew those people hadn't done anything. I just..." She swallowed. "I couldn't think properly."

Jasper exchanged a glance with Carlisle. Unlike the others, he understood exactly what she meant.

"How long has it been since you've had blood?" Carlisle asked.

"I've never had blood."

"Animal or human?"

"Neither."

The silence that followed was absolute, she was going to give the undead a heart attack at this rate.

"What?" Rosalie said.

Claire shifted uncomfortably.

"Moira found me before it happened. I never had to worry about it."

"You're telling me," Edward said slowly, "that you've existed like this for seven months..."

"...and you've never fed?"

Carlisle looked stunned.

"Claire," He said carefully, "what exactly is in this substitute?"

She explained everything she knew about Moira's mixture. The herbs. The ingredients she couldn't pronounce.

Wow, she was really lucky Moira was good because this was really sketchy.

By the time she finished, Carlisle looked thoughtful.

"And it satisfies you?"

"No..."

"...I mean, it keeps me alive. That's not really the same thing, though."

Esme's expression fell, a sad frown replacing her comforting smile, "You're hungry all the time?"

"Pretty much."

"Oh, sweetheart." Esme's voice was barely above a whisper.

Claire was surprised how much she wanted to hug the woman, despite barely knowing her.

"I'm okay."

Nobody looked convinced.

"Claire."

She looked up.

"If there is a cure, we'll help you find it," Carlisle promised.

The words caught her off guard.

"What?"

"You shouldn't have to do this alone."

Esme nodded immediately, "Of course we'll help."

Alice smiled.

"I love a mystery."

Jasper looked resigned, "You're stuck now, she's already decided."

"Yep!"

Emmett grinned.

"Honestly, this is the most interesting thing that's happened this decade."

Rosalie rolled her eyes, but after a moment she sighed.

"If there's a way for you to get your life back, we can at least try."

Claire stared at them.

For several seconds, she couldn't think of anything to say.

The Cullens understood because they lived with it too. Moira tried, but she had lived a full life, she didn't understand Claire's fears about immortality. She was also rather morally grey and didn't see much issue with drinking people's blood.

"Thank you."

The words came out barely above a whisper.

Esme's smile somehow melted even further.

And for the first time since waking up in those woods, Claire felt a little less alone.

"Wait, did you say your vampires can fly?!"

An hour later, she found herself standing on the front porch preparing to leave. The sky had darkened considerably since she was at the hospital. She was glad she told her parents she was eating at a friend's house.

The Cullens had told her about their kind, their eyes, and their cold skin that sparkled in the sun. Claire told them about her fangs and how her eyes sometimes turned yellow when they came out, and about how she could still be wounded, though the injuries healed almost immediately.

Rain had started sometime during the conversation. Not surprising since it was Forks.

"How did I not notice that?" Claire muttered.

"You were having an existential crisis."

"Fair point, Emmett."

She was halfway down the porch steps when a voice stopped her.

"I can drive you."

Claire turned.

Rosalie stood in the doorway.

For a moment, Claire assumed she was talking to someone else.

"Me?"

Rosalie looked mildly offended. "No, the invisible person standing behind you."

Claire immediately checked.

Rosalie sighed, she had been quiet for most of the evening, but Claire noticed she had watched her whenever the conversation drifted back to the cure.

"Get in the car."

The next thing Claire knew, they were driving through the rain in a shiny red BMW.

The silence lasted approximately thirty seconds.

"So."

Claire glanced sideways, "Do you actually hate everyone?"

"What?"

"It's a genuine question."

"I don't hate everyone."

"You have a very convincing face then."

Rosalie stared ahead.

"I like Emmett."

"That's one person."

"I tolerate Alice."

"Okay, that's not hate, I guess."

"I do hate Edward, though."

Claire hummed. That was fair enough.

Another brief silence followed.

Then Rosalie spoke again, quieter this time.

"I hope you find your cure."

Claire looked over. Rosalie kept her eyes on the road, not looking at her.

"I really do."

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If there was one thing Claire Jones had learned during Bella Swan's first week in Forks, it was that the girl had an almost supernatural ability to get lost.

Not lost in the sense that she ended up stranded in the woods or accidentally wandered all the way to Port Angeles, but just in a harmless way. Two days into the week, Claire found Bella standing motionless in the middle of a hallway, staring at the map the office had handed her.

"I think Ms Cope gave me the map of a different school," Bella trembled. She had been trying to find the way to her next class for about ten minutes and was already dreading walking in late as everyone gawked at her.

Claire glanced at the paper.

"It's upside down."

Bella paused, her hands slightly shaking as she slowly flipped the map around, her pale complexion dotted with red blotches as her breathing slowly evened out.

"Oh."

It was silent for a moment as neither of them spoke. Bella was likely looking for her next class whilst Claire tried to cover her smile with her hand, feeling pity for her newfound friend but also a bit of amusement at the comical situation.

Bella immediately looked offended.

"It's not my fault, they should've added a right-side-up label."

"I imagine they trusted everyone capable enough to use something called common sense."

"You're a terrible person."

"So I've been told."

The two stared at each other before bursting into laughter, until Bella remembered she was ten minutes late and it was her second day of school and quickly headed to her next, well — current class.

After that, the first week had passed surprisingly quickly.

Bella settled into the group more easily than anyone expected. Jessica, who had initially been drawn to Bella largely because of the attention surrounding the new girl, had mellowed out over the week. They didn't have much in common, but they both enjoyed literature and plays like Romeo & Juliet — Jessica also appreciated how Bella had zero interest in Mike and no longer saw her as competition.

Angela had been kind to the new girl from the beginning and they just grew closer. Eric remained convinced she would eventually join the school newspaper, pestering her for ideas about any new editorials they could use.

Mike seemed physically incapable of going more than twenty minutes without checking whether Bella needed anything. Tyler seemed to take this as a challenge and also bartered his time for Bella's favour.

And somehow Bella fit amongst all of them. Not because she was outgoing or was consistently interested in everything they had to say —  she wasn't. But because she was genuine, it was refreshing to have someone who didn't perform for other people, mostly because the idea of attention horrified her. She was also very easy to talk to, small talk might've been rather awkward, but after just one week, everyone already felt like they could trust the girl with any concerns or troubles they had. Angela was the same, and if you really told Jessica to keep it to herself she could, but with Bella, it felt like nobody would know if they told her.

Perhaps that was why Claire felt so drawn to the girl. She would never be able to tell Bella about her secret — she had no intention of dragging anyone else into her world — but she admired the way Bella never seemed to wear a mask around other people, even if she probably wished she could pretend she wasn't quite so clumsy.

Claire, on the other hand, was constantly wearing one.

Sitting at the lunch table with a tray of food that would never satisfy her hunger. Wishing her parents goodnight knowing she would remain awake long after they had fallen asleep. Even having to remember to breathe as it was no longer an automatic function.

Every day was just a repeat of the previous one. Or it had been before Bella Swan moved to town.

Edward Cullen disappeared after Monday, nobody knew why. The Cullens had near-perfect attendance, save for the occasional sunny day where their foster parents yanked them out for hiking. 

At first, people simply assumed he was sick. But the Cullens never got sick. The rumours started by Wednesday.

Jessica was convinced he'd gone on a secret modelling trip, whilst Mike suggested he might've gotten food poisoning from the cafeteria food — something very believable, except for the fact that none of the other Cullens were out of school, and they all sort of picked from the same selection of food.

Bella didn't add fuel to the fire, but Claire noticed that every morning Bella arrived and saw he wasn't there, her shoulders slouched a bit more.

Something had happened.

She just didn't know what.

"Do you think it was something I did?"

Claire sat cross-legged on her bedroom floor, her phone balanced between her shoulder and ear as she finished an essay that was due tomorrow.

Her room was dimly lit by fairy lights draped across one wall with stacks of books occupying nearly every available surface — including the floor. Her bookshelf had collapsed a while ago due to the weight on it and she kept forgetting to buy a new one. Most of them were classic literature, a few trashy romances, and some books on legends and myths. Several plants sat lifelessly beside her windowsill. Despite having more time on her hands, Claire was still a bad plant mom. A full-length mirror sat in the corner, covered by an old blanket. Her bedspread was deep blue with sun and moon patterns littering it, her nightstand held a Tiffany lamp and a bunch of photo frames filled with memories. Various pieces of silver jewellery were scattered across her desk, many set with gemstones—the jade pieces were her favourite.

The cluttered room looked like the result of somebody combining a thrift store, an antique shop and a whimsygoth collage.

"Why would it have been something you did? You said you walked into class and he immediately covered his nose, right?"

"Well, yeah, but maybe I smelled or something."

"Or, Edward Cullen is just an absolute jerk."

"He might be. I was hoping to confront him but he hasn't shown up since it happened."

Bella had told Claire what occurred in biology on Monday after his fourth no-show that week. The Swan girl had panicked at first, believing herself to be at fault for the incident — especially when everyone had been telling her how reserved the Cullens were. But after a bit of moping, Bella realised she had done absolutely nothing wrong; it wasn't like she had even spoken to him.

Claire had understood pretty quickly that Edward must've felt the same pull to Bella's blood that Claire did, even stronger if he was unable to be near her and hadn't shown up to school since.

She reassured Bella that it wasn't her fault and that Edward's disappearance was probably unrelated to her. But as she listened to Bella speculate about the mysterious boy who had vanished without explanation, Claire couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that things were already moving in a direction she couldn't stop.

More than anything, she hoped Bella Swan would lose interest.

She hoped the girl would stop asking questions, stop noticing strange things, and stay as far away from the world of vampires as possible.

The following week arrived in a flurry of snow. Bella was miserable. She told Claire that she had already slipped on the ice crowding the floor, and absolutely hated how everyone was throwing chunks of snow everywhere.

The snow wasn't the only new arrival on Monday, though.

Edward Cullen had returned from whatever cave he locked himself in.

Claire had gotten a glimpse of him after lunch as she was grabbing books for her last classes from her locker. She tried to message Bella with a warning, but the girl was likely trying to avoid the minefield outside as she made her way to biology.

She considered walking over to Bella after school. They were both still lingering in the parking lot alongside what felt like half the student body, everyone reluctant to brave the snow-covered roads. In the end, Claire decided against it. Bella had a pensive look on her face and Claire didn't want to overload her in case Edward had done something again.

Instead, she sent the girl a message, hoping everything went well and checking she was alright. Bella replied quickly, saying she hadn't confronted him as he kept pestering her with random questions, stuff about the weather, and it slipped her mind. She said he had semi-apologised and had even walked her to her locker before his mood suddenly changed and he stalked away.

Claire felt some sympathy for him. Moira had told her the Cullens were a different type of vampire than she was, cold ones, but they were unique to their kind as the family only fed on animal blood — not human. She understood that Edward must've been torn between his vampiric nature and the appeal of Bella's blood, and his family's ideologies.

She couldn't really preach about not getting involved with humans as she had befriended Bella Swan almost immediately, but at the same time, there was a chance Claire would become human again. Whereas, from what Moira had told her, that wasn't a possibility for Edward.

Claire was wary about Edward Cullen's intentions with Bella Swan, it wasn't just a matter of protecting her from vampires. Bella was Claire's friend, and she didn't want the girl getting hurt by him when he and his family inevitably relocated again.

It was Tuesday now, Claire was sitting in her car — waiting for the day to start like everyone else in the parking lot. She was listening to one of her Beatles CDs when she heard it.

It was a high-pitched screech, growing painfully loud as it got closer, not in Claire's direction, but the lot wasn't the biggest so there were only so many places it could go.

Only so many places Tyler's van could go.

She looked up in time to see the dark blue van skidding across the ice, clearly out of control, right towards Bella Swan's truck.

Which the girl herself was standing in front of.

Time seemed to fracture as Claire threw her car door open. Her senses were sharpened as she pushed herself in Bella's direction, faster than any human should've been capable of.

But before she could reach her, she saw Edward Cullen rushing in the same direction.

He was impossibly fast, it was unlikely a human could even see him at his speed. Claire paused, half concealed by a car, so everyone around her wouldn't just notice her appear out of nowhere. She heard the shattering crunch of the van folding around the rusty truck's bed and a squeak that reminded her of porcelain against metal.

Gasps erupted across the parking lot as everyone's brain caught up to them, and everyone was running towards the incident.

Bella was alive, Claire could hear her pounding heartbeat. She could also smell blood, likely Tyler's as it wasn't as pulling as Bella's would've been.

Edward hopped over the wreck, out of sight from everyone arriving to check on Bella. He looked up and met Claire's eyes.

Everything seemed to stop.

The realisation hit instantly. He knew she had seen him.

And she had a pretty good feeling he had seen her too.

Claire Jones was an enigma.

At first, he thought she was like him. She had no heartbeat, her blood barely had a scent, he had witnessed her rip the codelock from her locker by accident and stare at it in confusion — like she didn't realise it was even possible for her to do that.

He also overheard her asking Angela to avoid taking pictures of her, when before she had always been open to helping her friend out if she ever needed a model.

It wasn't that strange, he supposed. Teenagers went through phases, and considering how harsh the standards were for girls' appearances, it only made sense for her to feel uncomfortable. But it was such a sudden change, practically overnight.

Edward wanted nothing more than to look into her mind and find out what exactly had changed, but Claire Jones' head was static. His gift worked on her, but only sometimes. He could hear her thinking about hanging out with her friends, or what board game she could bring to play with the kid she watched, clear as day. It was like a switch kept getting flipped in her mind, one minute it would be like everyone else's, and the next he couldn't hear a word.

It didn't help his growing curiosity that she also went out of her way to avoid them. Before, she wasn't as bad as Jessica — who tried to know everything about them, but she was still interested like the rest of the school. But of all of her recent changes, her avoidance of him and his family was the most suspicious.

That was the main reason he thought she might be like them.

But he couldn't explain how she still ate food at lunch, still had the same eye colour she always had, still occasionally tripped over. Not to mention her friends didn't seem to be in pain if they ever wacked her arm for a comment she made. If she was like them, there was a good chance they would've broken their hand.

When he saw the van sliding across the ice towards Bella Swan, his blood singer, he had moved before thinking.

Before considering the witnesses, before considering his family, before considering anything except the fact that Bella was about to die.

Yet even as he reached her, another movement had caught his attention.

Claire Jones.

For a brief moment, she had been moving towards Bella too. Moving fast. Not exactly vampire fast, but still faster than any human was capable of moving.

It reminded him of a conversation he had with his family a few months ago.

When he finally reached home that afternoon, his thoughts had immediately turned to the subject.

"Something is wrong."

Emmett grinned immediately, "Wrong how? Secret serial killer? Alien? Government spy?"

Rosalie rolled her eyes.

"Because a government spy would be at Forks High School."

"Hey, you never know. I've always felt like something was off with this town."

"Yeah, us."

Edward ignored them.

"She doesn't have a heartbeat anymore."

That got everyone's attention. Carlisle sat forward slightly, placing the newspaper he was reading on the coffee table in front.

"What do you mean? Who doesn't have a heartbeat anymore?"

"Claire Jones." Edward frowned. "I heard it just last week, it was erratic during a calculus test. But I couldn't hear it today, I even focused on it but it wasn't there."

"I've never encountered anything like it," He admitted.

Carlisle looked thoughtful.

"Could she be gifted?"

"A human?" Rosalie asked.

"It wouldn't be impossible."

"It still wouldn't explain why her heartbeat would just disappear all of a sudden. If it's a gift, shouldn't it have always been missing?"

Everyone paused, trying to think of possible explanations.

"I've tried watching her." Alice frowned, "Nothing."

That immediately caught everyone's attention.

Nothing was unusual. Her visions weren't always certain, but she almost always could at least see something for people.

"What do you mean nothing?" Jasper asked.

"I mean exactly that." Alice looked frustrated, "It's like I see glimpses of the most random things, the moon, a bunch of glass bottles, a man I've never seen. I hardly see Claire herself."

Edward remembered the uneasy feeling that had settled over the room. They had dealt with strange things before, but these things were predictable, often related to others of their kind.

But this was different, Claire wasn't one of them. She wasn't a vampire.

"Have you smelled her blood?" Carlisle asked eventually.

Edward nodded, confusion evident on his face, "It barely smells like anything."

Carlisle blinked.

That was perhaps the strangest thing he had ever heard. He had been around for centuries, and if one thing was certain, it was that every human possessed a distinct scent.

Some were more appealing than others, but everyone smelled like something.

Claire Jones was something none of them could explain. Every time Edward thought he had found an explanation, another inconsistency appeared.

And now she had seen him.

There was no doubt about that.

Across the wreckage, just before he disappeared from view, their eyes had met.

Claire Jones knew he wasn't human.

And for the first time, Edward was beginning to suspect the feeling was mutual.

The hospital was chaos.

It would seem half the student body had decided Bella Swan surviving a car accident constituted a public event.

She had wanted to check on her friend. Edward could wait. She was worried Bella might develop PTSD or something after all this. Claire had been heading to the triage area where Bella and Tyler were, she managed approximately ten steps down the hallway before stopping.

She could smell Tyler's blood, strong and clear amongst all of the antiseptic. She could hear a nurse cleaning a cut near his hairline with a swab, the cotton dragging softly across the fractured skin. Against her will, her body took another step.

No.

Not now.

Not here.

Claire stepped backwards. Again and again, slowly pushing herself away from the compelling coppery smell of blood.

She could feel her fangs sharpen. She had been around open wounds since the bite, but it was normally at school, the scent of a bunch of other students packed together always overpowered it.

But the hospital was so clean, everyone who came for the same reason Claire did was huddled in the waiting room. There was nothing to cover up the blood here.

Months of control suddenly felt extremely fragile. She had spent months depriving herself of real blood, not the substitute Moira whips up for her, she couldn't do this.

Her mind started to spiral.

Too strong.

Too close.

Tyler was her friend, but right now she was so hungry.

All she could think about was the blood. The fears of being immortal were wiped from her thoughts, only one thing mattered now.

A movement caught her attention.

Edward Cullen, walking down the corridor, was heading in her direction.

She couldn't be too annoyed that he obviously wanted to interrogate her, it was the distraction she needed. Her resolve slowly returned to her as she turned in the opposite direction.

Far away from Edward Cullen.

The hallway seemed to just go straight forever. She finally rounded a corner, out of his sight.

And froze.

A door was wide open, welcoming. Inside sat a cosy room, inspirational quotes covered the walls, cheery drawings, likely done by Forks elementary, hung proudly, comfy chairs lined the walls as nurses padded about, handing cookies to donors.

Blood donors.

A temporary donation drive was set up inside one of the hospital wings.

Claire staggered backwards.

The edges of her vision blurred, her ears only focused on the deafening pulses nearby. Her throat was burning, if she could think clearly she would've believed it was actually on fire. The blood was like a siren's call, it was everywhere.

It was okay, she could kill everyone in this room in the blink of an eye and disappear. She didn't know these people. She had no attachment to them.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

A sharp breath escaped her lips. Her whole body trembled.

She couldn't do this.

Couldn't stay.

Couldn't think.

Couldn't—

"Claire."

The voice was calm, gentle, and far too close.

She quickly spun around, hoping her eyes weren't the unfamiliar yellow colour she was yet to grow accustomed to, which often showed up when her fangs appeared.

And found herself face-to-face with Dr Carlisle Cullen.

Standing right behind her. His knowing golden eyes were fixed on her, on the fangs visible from her slightly open mouth.

Claire's stomach dropped.

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Claire's other classes were just as agonising without the presence of Bella Swan — she really hated math.

For some reason, the person in charge of timetables decided to be cruel and put gym right before lunch, although they couldn't exactly have it after as everyone would just be hacking up the questionable cafeteria food.

Since a few accidents in the first month she had turned — a window may have been shattered by a tennis ball, along with a badminton racket being bent in half — when she was still new to her sudden increase in strength, Claire had quickly declared to Coach Clapp that she had a severe joint condition and she couldn't participate in sports unless he wanted her leg to pop out of the socket every period.

As such, Claire found herself sitting on the bleachers, fiddling with the faint creases in her skirt whilst she watched Bella avoid being anywhere near the volleyball like it was the plague.

...Until it came her way, and in a last-ditch attempt at defence, she sent it hurling right into the back of Mike Newton's head.

Claire snorted softly, watching Bella hurry over to apologise to Mike in absolute mortification. Jessica quickly joined them, having noticed her long-time crush — bar Edward Cullen — standing mesmerised by the pale girl from Arizona.

"Oh, wow, Bella, are you trying to kill him already?" Jessica laughed uncomfortably.

Bella looked genuinely horrified by the possibility. "It slipped!"

Mike, despite having just been publicly assaulted by a volleyball, looked absurdly pleased by the attention. "I'm okay," he insisted quickly, rubbing the back of his head with a grin that suggested he would've lined up to let Bella hit him a second time if she asked.

After a few more awkward attempts at small talk, with Bella's joke about being kicked out of Arizona going slightly over the other two's heads, the gym teacher blew his whistle half-heartedly from across the room — likely too engrossed in his thoughts about why he ever decided to pursue a career in teaching.

Claire rested her chin against her palm, watching the scene unfold with faint amusement.

Bella Swan was interesting.

Not in the dramatic way Jessica became whenever gossip was involved, nor in the enigmatic way the Cullens seemed to attract curiosity without trying. Bella simply existed awkwardly and honestly in a way that made people gravitate toward her. Even Claire had found herself liking the brunette far quicker than expected.

Which was unfortunate considering Bella's blood smelled like heaven itself.

The thought alone made Claire grimace. Unfortunately, Bella seemed far more perceptive than most of their classmates, as she noticed almost immediately.

"You look concerned," Bella said once Claire hopped down from the bleachers, everyone heading to the locker rooms to change back into their regular clothes for lunch.

Claire blinked. "I'm watching Mike recover from his possibly fatal injuries, hey, maybe he will collapse later."

Bella groaned softly, covering her red-tinted face with her hands. "Please don't remind me."

"I think he'll survive."

"I almost gave him a concussion on my first day."

Claire tilted her head thoughtfully. "I think you need a brain to have a concussion, so Mike should be fine."

 Bella let out a genuine laugh, with a hint of surprise. In her brief experience, the new girl believed everyone in Forks lacked a sense of humour; she was happy that her sarcasm might not fade after all if she had Claire.

Claire breathed a sigh of relief once she sat down at her lunch table. Even though the food didn't curb any of the unique cravings she now experienced, she still looked forward to eating.

It seemed she had walked in right as Jessica delved into her classic monologue about the Cullens.

Great.

"And the blonde one is Rosalie," Jessica explained to Bella with the confidence of somebody who had repeated the same script millions of times. "She's unbelievably pretty, which is honestly sort of rude."

Angela rolled her eyes affectionately whilst Bella glanced over her shoulder toward the table Jessica was subtly pointing at.

Claire stabbed half-heartedly at the fries on her tray, trying very hard not to look toward the corner table Jessica was enthusiastically pointing at.

Unfortunately, curiosity won.

The Cullens sat together exactly as they always did. Rosalie seemed faintly disinterested in existence itself, twirling an apple absent-mindedly, Emmett lounged comfortably beside her, looking far too entertained by whatever Jasper had quietly muttered, and Alice was speaking animatedly whilst her tiny hands moved almost faster than human eyes could track.

Edward sat slightly apart from the others. Not exactly isolated, just removed. His golden eyes briefly flicked up, straight toward Bella.

The girl seemed almost entranced as she locked eyes with Edward Cullen from across the cafeteria, only snapping out of it once he abruptly looked away.

"They're all adopted," Jessica continued. "Dr Cullen and his wife moved here with them a few years ago from Alaska."

"They don't really talk to anybody," Angela added, though unlike Jessica, she sounded more thoughtful than judgemental.

His jaw tightened slightly as he turned toward Alice, cutting her off halfway through whatever she had been saying. Alice blinked once in surprise before following Edward's gaze briefly toward Bella.

Until her golden eyes cut to Claire.

... Who immediately looked back down at her tray as an unpleasant chill swept through her quiet chest.

It wasn't fear. More so, the uncomfortable awareness that came with being near something dangerous, something like her, but not.

The feeling only worsened when she realised Alice hadn't looked away.

Claire could practically feel the weight of the vampire's stare from across the cafeteria, light and curious rather than hostile, but unsettling nonetheless. It made her skin itch beneath the sleeves of her lace-trimmed top.

Eventually, Alice turned back toward Edward, though Claire noticed the tiny crease between her brows as she did.

Ugh, exactly what Claire needed — more attention from vampires.

"So," Jessica continued obliviously, leaning closer toward Bella, "what was Arizona like?"

Bella blinked, clearly caught off guard. She had only spoken to Jessica for a short while, but she was already expecting more gossip, not questions about herself. "Um—"

"Sunny."

Jessica stared at her. "Really? Wow, I couldn't have guessed," muttering the last part under her breath.

Angela covered her laugh with her hand whilst Bella opened and closed her mouth a few times, clearly wanting to add to her one-word answer but unsure of what to say.

For a brief moment, the tension clawing at Claire's shoulders loosened slightly.

"I think I would fit right in if I lived in Arizona," Jessica decided firmly. "I just have a beach-girl quality, you know?"

Claire snorted before she could stop herself.

Bella glanced back toward the Cullen table again, though more subtly this time. Edward didn't look back at her this time. Instead, he appeared deep in conversation with Jasper, his expression practised.

Something about the entire interaction felt... off. Like, there was something about it that Claire couldn't explain properly that didn't sit right with her.

Maybe it was because she already lived in a constant state of hyperawareness now, always watching for danger without meaning to. Or maybe it was because the Cullens rarely reacted to anything around them at all, and yet, no matter how subtly he tried to play it off, Edward Cullen had a reaction to something about Bella Swan.

Whatever it was, Claire didn't like it. She didn't think Bella was necessarily in danger. But she had the horrible feeling the girl had walked into something far bigger than she understood.

"So," Jessica said suddenly, snapping Claire from her thoughts, "we're going to see a movie this weekend if you want to come."

Angela nodded. "My mom said there's a new rom-com out that's meant to be really good."

Bella looked mildly overwhelmed by the invitation but smiled weakly regardless. "Maybe?"

"You should," Jessica insisted. "We could go shopping as well, clothes shopping, that is."

Bella glanced down at herself. "What's wrong with my clothes?"

"Nothing," Claire answered quickly before Jessica could begin a full fashion intervention. "Jessica just thinks everybody should dress like they're starring in a teen drama."

Jessica gasped loudly. "I do not."

"Didn't you used to get up at 4 a.m. to get ready for school last year?"

"And?"

Claire grinned faintly at the offended look on her friend's face. It felt strangely easy, sitting here like this. Listening to Jessica ramble dramatically whilst Angela attempted to keep the conversation somewhat grounded. Talking about shopping trips, school, and other completely insignificant things like they were life and death.

It was a bit hypocritical for Claire to tease Jessica over treating school as her own passionate fashion show, but her friends had no idea how many hours she had once spent sitting in front of her mirror with magazines cluttered around her, practising countless hairstyles until she could no longer see her reflection.

Literally.

The memory surfaced abruptly.

At first, after the attack, Claire had thought the mirror in her bedroom was somehow broken. She remembered sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded by hair clips and scattered magazine pages, staring directly at the blurry space where her reflection should've been whilst panic slowly clawed its way up her throat.

Now, months later, she still caught herself instinctively glancing toward mirrors sometimes expecting to see herself staring back instead of the warped, indistinct shape that always greeted her.

She never did.

"You okay?"

Claire blinked, the memory fading as she was brought back to the present. Bella was watching her now, brow slightly furrowed in concern. Claire realised she had gone completely silent.

"Yeah," she answered automatically before forcing a small smile. "Just tired."

Bella looked like she wanted to question that answer further, but was quickly interrupted by Jessica launching into an aggressive rant about how every nearby thrift store only sold "granny clothes" and nothing remotely fashionable.

Claire laughed quietly despite herself, the uncomfortable weight in her chest easing slightly.

She just hoped the whole reflection issue would one day be a memory itself and that she wouldn't have to rely on pictures to remember what she looked like for much longer.

By the time Claire reached La Push, the harsh downpour of rain had softened into a steady drizzle.

The reservation always felt different from Forks. Quieter, despite everyone being just as lively, if not more. Perhaps it was the knowledge that the Cullens, vampires in general, weren't allowed on Quileute territory, minus her. The strong smell of saltwater and damp cedar lingered in the air, whilst the sound of waves crashing somewhere beyond the trees carried through the open gap in her window.

Seth's school had mostly emptied by the time she pulled into the parking lot. A few students lingered beneath the entrance overhang to avoid the rain, whilst others sprinted toward waiting cars and buses, backpacks bouncing against their shoulders. Claire turned down her Evanescence CD and rested her elbow against the car door, watching absentmindedly as the school doors swung open again.

Seth Clearwater appeared moments later, halfway through laughing at something one of his friends had said. The second he spotted Claire's car, his entire face brightened. His reaction to his 'babysitter' picking him up from school never seemed remotely bothered, unlike most thirteen-year-olds would be.

Though it was unlikely Seth would've described it that way. It was more plausible that he told his friends he managed to become friends with a junior from another school because he was "super cool."

"Claire!" he called dramatically whilst jogging through the rain toward the passenger side. "You're late."

Claire glanced at the dashboard clock. Seth, being the social butterfly that he was, often engaged in many after-school activities, which worked well for their routine as her school normally got out a bit later, and she had to drive to La Push.

"I'm three minutes late." 

"Exactly. In three minutes the school could've caught fire with me inside, or I might've been kidnapped!"

He climbed into the car with all the grace of somebody who had never once felt embarrassment, throwing his bag onto the back seats as he shook his head, spraying water droplets everywhere.

"You act like a wet dog, ugh, and smell like one too," Claire informed him, pulling out of the parking lot, face scrunching up as she noticed he smelled like he had rolled around in a pile of mud all afternoon.

Seth gasped in mock offence. "That's actually so rude."

"You entered my car smelling like a forest."

"It's called nature. You should try interacting with it sometime, some sun would do you some good — you look like Casper the Friendly Ghost."

Claire snorted softly, shaking her head.

She always enjoyed being around Seth because he was easy to talk to, effortlessly so. Conversations with him never felt draining or forced; they flowed naturally, bouncing from one topic to another. She never had to worry about pre-planning things to talk about.

It was nice and normal. Normal was what she needed after a day near the Cullens.

"How was school?" she asked.

Seth groaned immediately, sinking lower into his seat.

"Awful. Ms Tocher says if I fail another math test, she's calling my mom."

"That seems fair," Claire hummed. "I thought you were pretty good with math? We've mostly been going over general sciences."

He whipped his head around and pointed accusingly at her. "Hey! You're supposed to blindly support me. Not interrogate me."

Claire rolled her eyes. For someone so laidback, he was very dramatic at times. "It was hardly an interrogation, I'm only saying, math is important — it's better to get help sooner than later if you're struggling. It will only get worse if you leave it."

"Didn't you flunk math two years in a row?"

Claire's attempt at giving pitiful older-sister advice stopped after that

The conversation quickly shifted from Seth complaining about one of his classmates stealing his fries at lunch to Claire telling him about Jessica interrogating the new girl at school. Somehow, it eventually spiralled into a debate about whether soup counted as a drink.

"It literally comes in a bowl," Claire argued. "If you order it in a restaurant, you normally eat it with a spoon. When was the last time you used a spoon in your drink?"

"You could still pour it into a glass and drink it!"

"So by your logic, cereal is a beverage?"

Seth sat silently for a moment.

"...wait."

Claire laughed quietly, glancing sideways at him briefly. His expression was deeply serious, as though this conversation carried genuine philosophical importance.

It made something warm settle in her chest.

Seth had a way of making things feel normal without even trying. There were no expectations. No pressure. No careful monitoring of every tiny thing she said or did.

Just easy conversation and terrible arguments about soup.

Outside the windows, rain continued to fall steadily over the winding roads, the sky above still hidden behind thick grey clouds. After a while, Seth reached over to flip through Claire's CD collection, immediately swapping the current one out when he found one of his favourites.

"You know," he announced suddenly, "I think we should order pizza tonight."

Claire raised an eyebrow.

"With whose money?"

He paused before turning toward her with a painfully hopeful expression.

"...yours?"

"Absolutely not."

"That's actually really selfish of you."

"You survive three afternoons a week without burning your house down, and suddenly you think you deserve financial compensation?"

Seth grinned unapologetically.

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In The Picture of Dorian Gray, Lord Henry Wotton says, "To define is to limit."

It was a quote Claire Jones tried to apply to her everyday life as best she could. Only a few months had passed since her life was upended by a single encounter, a rogue vampire passing through town in need of a late-night snack — only to decide leaving her alive, and completely alone, would be far more satisfying than a quick bite.

She could no longer pretend she was human. Not when the food she had once loved now tasted bland, not when she had to focus on opening her locker at school for fear of tearing it clean off, not when she was unable to enter homes without explicit permission, and certainly not when her reflection in the mirror was now a distorted blur.

The girl wasn't entirely clueless about what she was. She had always been a rather big fantasy nerd. So when her eyes unconsciously began to land on a person's pulse in their neck as they spoke, or how her ears seemed to tune in to the blood rushing through their veins, one word echoed in her mind.

Vampire.

Her superstition was confirmed by her friend Erin's grandma. The woman, Moira, perhaps in her mid-70s — with greying hair that spoke of long-lasting memories and lines which proved great rewards and tribulations had befallen her — had told Claire that she was a fledgling. If the teen consumed human blood within 28 days of her transformation, she would survive and become a fully fledged vampire; if not, her mortal body would die.

Naturally, this caused the undead girl a great sense of panic, as she had no interest in living forever but was far from prepared to die. Moira had calmed her worries with some tea and told Claire she could keep her alive without drinking human blood as she was a witch.

The old woman could provide Claire with a blood substitute, something she would only need to consume occasionally. Moira had warned her the potion wouldn't eliminate any of her cravings for human blood, but rather stop her from needing to drink it to survive.

As a result, unless Claire drank human blood  — something she was vehemently against doing — she was trapped between mortality and immortality, with a heavy leaning on the latter as she was still technically a vampire unless she found a cure.

Claire began to apply the quote to her life after this. Whilst she sat alone in her bedroom, permanently unable to sleep, she decided that she didn't have to force herself into a narrow category that all of her recent changes could fit into.

Human, fledgling, vampire, victim, monster.

None of them seemed entirely correct anymore - not to Claire, at least. Because despite everything, Claire still felt painfully human in all the ways that mattered except in reality. She still buzzed with excitement whenever she was getting ready to hang out with her friends, still procrastinated homework until the very last minute despite having 24/7 to complete it, still looked forward to coming home from school and eating the food her mom cooked, and still studied for every test as though it would have an impact on her future.

But no matter how much she willed herself to be normal again, she never felt cold, even if she only wore a shirt and jeans in freezing temperatures. Her reflection remained warped and indistinct in mirrors, no matter how many times she checked, and even if she tried with all her might, she was unable to pass a home's threshold without permission.

Moira had told her that unless she came across a very powerful witch in the near future, it was almost inevitable that she would give in to her instincts.

It was horrifying how natural those instincts felt.

How easy it would be.

Still, despite everything, Claire clung desperately to the possibility of a cure. She didn't exactly relish the idea of dying as a human in 80-odd years if she was lucky; it had been her biggest fear for most of her life — she couldn't count the number of times she was kept awake after one too many thoughts about the inevitable.

But now the fear of impermanence was replaced with the permanence of eternal life.

She feared waking up fifty years from now exactly as she was today, as her parents grew old around her, her friends who were once her age slowly being picked off by nature. She feared forgetting what it felt like to be tired, or alive, or hungry for something other than blood.

She feared reaching a point where her humanity would no longer feel worth fighting for. The thought that one day she might stop wanting to become human again terrified her. That eventually immortality would settle around her so comfortably she would no longer remember why she had feared it in the first place.

So Claire held tightly onto every painfully human part of herself she still had left.

Her family, her friends, school and the never-ending assignments, cheesy movie nights, the terrible cafeteria food, which had given Tyler Crowley food poisoning so many times she questioned his sanity for continuing to eat it, and even "babysitting" Seth Clearwater three afternoons a week.

Things that proved she was still the same Claire Jones she had always been before a stranger dug their fangs into her neck.

She could only hope the mundane pieces of her life were enough to keep her soul intact until she found a way to become human again.

Claire was beginning to think that the rain never stopped in Forks. The fledgling had been living in the small town her entire life, but after a 3-week bout of non-stop rain, the few weather predictions she previously held were starting to waver.

The sky remained trapped beneath an endless layer of grey clouds, the streets permanently slick with rainwater and mud. The faint scent of damp earth and pinewood lingered in the air, carrying a biting chill that settled deep into people's bones.

Claire was debating whether or not she was lucky that the horrendously cold temperature did not affect her. It was one of the stranger aspects of being undead, realising just how human discomfort made you. She occasionally missed it, the way you miss a discontinued childhood snack that they may or may not bring back in 10 years.

She missed the sting of frozen fingertips after walking home from school, shivering beneath too many blankets during storms, and even the ache in her legs after hiking trails that were lethal to attempt in converse.

Now it was as though she stood in the centre of a storm wrapped beneath some invisible shield, separated from the world by something she could neither see nor touch.

It somehow made Forks feel even gloomier than before.

With a quiet sigh, Claire rested the back of her head against the rain-flecked window of her car, watching students spill across the parking lot towards the school entrance in a sea of umbrellas and oversized jackets.

Jessica Stanley, who appeared actively offended by the weather, was aggressively complaining to Angela as they crossed the parking lot toward Claire. A few cars down, Mike Newton and Tyler Crowley were attempting to kick a flattened soda can between puddles, whilst Eric Yorkie ran towards the shelter with a folder above his head.

Despite the weather, none of the students' moods seemed particularly dampened as they were all abuzz with the news of a new student. Chief Swan had been proudly galavanting about Forks, joyously proclaiming to anyone who would listen that his daughter was coming to stay with him.

In a town as small as Forks, the news of a fresh face travelled fast.

"She's from Arizona," Jessica announced the moment they reached Claire's car, not bothering to greet her friend before immediately jumping into gossip. "Can you imagine voluntarily moving here from somewhere sunny?"

Angela adjusted the hood of her coat with a laugh. "Maybe she likes rain."

The chatty girl levelled her with a judgemental stare, as though she had committed a crime by merely suggesting the idea. "Nobody likes rain."

"You literally live in Washington," Mike pointed out, clearly eavesdropping on the moment the new girl was mentioned.

Jessica ignored him completely.

"Anyway, morning," Angela belatedly greeted.

"Debatable," Claire replied, her face scrunching up as the rain heavily poured down before finally stopping.

Jessica gasped dramatically. "See? Even Claire agrees with me, rain is the worst."

"I said no such thing."

As her two friends spiralled into a debate about whether or not rain was some form of evil — with Jessica heatedly arguing that all it did was mess up her hair and Angela trying to convey the importance it held to the environment — Claire smiled fondly. It was easy to forget her supernatural issues when she had so many people to bring her back to the present.

"Wait," Mike interrupted suddenly, squinting across the parking lot. "Is that her?"

Heads turned almost instantly.

A rusted red truck had just pulled awkwardly into the student parking lot, looking painfully out of place amongst the newer cars surrounding it.

"Well," Jessica said after a brief pause, "that's unfortunate."

Isabella Swan climbed out a second later, looking visibly mortified when she noticed everyone outside the school was looking her way. Her dark hair tangled in her hand as she attempted to adjust the strap of her bag against her shoulder.

The girl hesitated beside the truck for half a second too long, clearly unsure of where she was supposed to go.

"She looks terrified," Angela murmured sympathetically, clutching a hand to her chest as though she was looking at a lost puppy.

"You can't really blame her," Claire said, hearing the new girl's thunderous heartbeat as she scurried to the office. "Transferring to a school in a town where everyone knows each other is bad enough, never mind in the middle of the year."

Claire was trying very hard not to attack the girl sitting next to her in first period.

It had been a few months since she was bitten, yet never before had she struggled so badly with her thirst as she did now. There was something about Isabella Swan's blood that made it infinitely more appealing than that of any other human Claire had encountered since her transformation.

When the pale-faced brunette had first stumbled into the small classroom, Claire had only felt mildly curious about the new girl as she watched her awkwardly copy Alice Cullen and Rosalie Hale by hanging her yellow jacket up beside theirs. Their teacher, Mr Mason, had stared at Isabella Swan as though he had never seen another human being before assigning her to the empty seat beside Claire at the back of the classroom.

Which was perhaps the worst possible decision he could have made.

The scent hit her almost immediately. It was sweet, but not artificially so like the Cullens. She wasn't necessarily drawn to the awkward girl, but the smell of her blood was overwhelming. Claire went rigid in her seat as Bella slid into the chair beside her, offering a small, nervous smile that Claire barely managed to return in the form of a grimace.

This was very bad.

For one horrifying moment, Claire could hear nothing except the sound of blood rushing through Bella Swan's veins. Every steady pulse beneath paper-thin skin. Every quiet inhale. Every beat of her heart.

"Hello..." Bella said hesitantly after an uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Claire stared fixedly at the whiteboard. She was scared her fangs would pop out the moment she opened her mouth to speak, but the girl was clearly nervous, and Claire would feel awful if she ignored her.

Even though guilt for ignoring her would likely be far better than the guilt of eating the poor teen.

"Hi." Her voice sounded like a dying penguin as she choked out a reply.

Isabella shifted slightly beside her, her face falling slightly, likely mistaking Claire's behaviour for annoyance rather than the internal meltdown Claire was currently experiencing.

"I'm Bella Swan," she introduced half-heartedly, clearly assuming she had somehow already messed up her first conversation in Forks.

"I know, small town." Claire closed her eyes briefly.

Fantastic. Truly excellent social skills on display.

Claire forced herself to inhale carefully through her nose before immediately regretting it. The scent of Bella's blood filled her senses, violently tempting. She managed to clear her throat before asking, "Do you prefer Bella over Isabella?"

The girl beside her seemed to relax a little. "Oh, um, yeah, Isabella always seemed a bit frilly to me."

Bella glanced sideways at her.

"You okay?"

No, actually, she wasn't. Claire smiled tightly instead. "Tired."

Bella let out a small laugh, clearly relating to the feeling. "That makes two of us."

Claire could've cackled at the absurdity of it all.

If Bella knew the girl sitting beside her was actively concentrating on not sinking her teeth into her throat, she probably would not look nearly so comfortable. The thought made Claire feel vaguely ill because, despite the hunger clawing violently at the back of her mind, Bella herself seemed... nice.

Awkward in a painfully genuine sort of way, fumbling slightly with her notebook as she copied down the date from the board.

Human.

Completely, painfully human. Something Claire wanted to be more than anything, and humans didn't eat other humans — unless they were cannibalistic — and Claire refused to become the reason somebody else stopped being human, too.

After what felt like an eternity, the bell finally rang, its nasal buzzing cutting through the classroom.

Claire briefly considered bolting from the room immediately, not trusting herself to remain around the new girl for much longer. But the last thing she wanted was for Bella to think she was the reason behind the obvious avoidance and spend the rest of her first day believing she had somehow done something wrong.

As such, Claire forced herself to pack her things slowly, finally releasing a quiet sigh of relief once Bella waved goodbye and disappeared toward her next class.

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Seth Clearwater was quite possibly the most laidback, happy-go-lucky teenager on the reservation. At 13 years old, he was impossibly optimistic and endlessly kind, always choosing to see the best in people.

Of course, being unusually cheerful for a teenage boy didn't mean he was immune to trouble.  As such, after one too many late-night ghost hunts with his friends (which always ended up just being some raccoons lurking around in old buildings), Harry and Sue Clearwater had had enough and put him on house arrest.

What they didn't take into consideration was that with everything going on between Leah and her boyfriend Sam, Leah was rarely home long enough to keep an eye on her younger brother while their parents were out. Seth, left to his own devices, quickly proved that supervision was less of a mere suggestion and more of a necessity.

It only took one disastrous attempt at cooking chicken for the Clearwaters to come dangerously close to losing their entire house.

They very quickly concluded that a "babysitter" might be their best option.

Sue had asked a friend of hers if her daughter, Erin, would be able to watch Seth after school when they couldn't be home; this arrangement would work best, as they trusted and knew her well.

Or that was the plan, at least.

Just a few days before she was supposed to start, Erin abruptly backed out after a family issue forced her to stay with relatives out of town. In any other situation, Sue would have looked for someone else — most likely someone from the reservation whose parents were well-informed about the tribal legends.

The older Seth got, the higher the likelihood that he would shift, which would be rather difficult to explain to someone who was unfamiliar with their ancestry. But with work piling up, Harry's health slowly declining, and Leah barely home anymore, there wasn't really time.

Which was how Claire Jones ended up standing awkwardly on the Clearwater porch the following Monday afternoon instead.

"She's a friend of Erin's," Sue had explained when Harry gave her a questioning look, not recognising the pale girl on their doorstep. "Apparently, Erin didn't want to leave me without help."

Claire was a junior in high school, the same as Erin. Her parents were well acquainted with Charlie Swan, a close friend of the Clearwaters — as such, Erin felt she would be the best replacement as she wasn't a complete stranger. 

She was polite, well, she seemed polite from the short greeting Sue had received when she opened the door. The pale girl had an almost nervous atmosphere around here, rocking on her heels in front of the door awkwardly. The Clearwater matriarch had opened the door wider and stepped aside — a general sign that you could enter, but the girl had stayed put.

After verbally giving her permission to enter their home, which Sue brushed off as her parents raising her to have strict manners, she introduced the girl- Claire, to Seth, who liked her instantly.