Our nighttime activities varied  based on the moods that swung us back and forth. By the time I got home, driving since Edward wasn't present to do so, I was not in the mood for much social interaction. I was quick to disappear upstairs, ignoring the curious Esme who wanted to ask about school. Rosalie took over that conversation, and the two dove into a conversation about something fashion related. Carlisle wasn't yet home - he must be working an extra shift at the hospital.

Not that we needed the money. Without the need to pay for heat, food or other basic human necessities, it began to pile up over time. Not to mention, should money ever really get low, Alice and her ability meant the stock market was always a win. Esme worked with interior design; Rosalie had flipped a few cars before; I had sold a few photographs under a pseudonym.

Tonight, I waited it out in my room, fiddling on my computer, until Carlisle had come home and most of them left to go for a light hunt and family walk. Esme was walking up the stairs when I poked my head out my bedroom door.

"Esme?" Her emotions were a pale swirl of yellow and pink - I catalogued this within seconds and still managed to make she contact with her. Out of habit, I could feel myself latch onto her emotions in an effort to keep them stable throughout our conversation, not that I was going to say anything bad to begin with.

She smiled gently at me, "Yes, Jasper? Is everything alright?"

"Fine, thank you." I paused a moment, unsure. Though Esme opioid undoubtedly say yes, and though it was only a book, there lay the potential for her to begin to ask questions. Questions did not suit me, I was not sure how I was supposed to explain this attraction I felt towards a girl I spoke with once. "Do you think I could borrow the new book you picked up? A Secret Garden?'

Surprise swirled through her, though her face did not change. Years of taking care of me and my siblings had lead her to be conscious of how she portrayed herself - I was pleased to see she was able to maintain a facade. It was a skill that any trained vampire should know.

"The one I got from the antique store? Are you sure you'd like that one - it's a child's story, feminine based." Her lips twitched upward in amusement. I could see why. An ex-soldier, having participated in Vampire Wars, reading a girl's child book.

My mind made up a list of excuses, selecting one before I could really think through what I was saying. "My new elective class mentioned it on a recommended list, said it would help with an upcoming assignment. I figured that since I have some time now, I may as well read it." That fit. I did like to be ahead of the game, learning as much as possible through many different tracks to have an edge over my opponents.

"Of course," Esme moved down the hall, disappearing for a moment into Carlisle's office, before returning with a book in her hands. It was frail, old, the cover a faded green with the image of a tree leafed in gold. When she passed it to me, I could feel the weight that settled down from years of use. "Just be gentle, yes?"

"Of course." I gave her a small smile, closing the door back to my room. One room over, I cou nod feel Michael sulking about his missing a day at school. Alice had been worried about him, and he was so far committed to her that he didn't even question when she said for him to stay home. It didn't mean he liked it.

Alice came back early and found him, talking in a low voice to try and bring his mood up. I let them be - I would catch it should he get too foul, and Alice would see anything very bad coming ahead. Instead, I moved to the window for natural light and opened to the first page.

***

Around three in the morning, the family back and the house quiet as everyone traipsed about in their own bubbles, I picked up a Polaroid camera. I was working - in the background - on a photography book to be published under my pseudonym. The rumours that circulated when I had released my last photo, which had ended up in national geographic, was one of confusion. Much speculation wondered about two things: my gender, and if I was one person or multiple.

I didn't pay attention to that. I spent more time focused on taking photos, collecting cameras and waiting for the right shot.

This morning, I went down the hall to Carlisle and Esme's private sitting room. They spent time in there when they wanted some space, but it was still relatively public. In there, Esme's mother's China rested along one wall, while the other side housed some of the original books Carlisle had taken with him from his home. It was intimate and private and their own space - and I interrupted it to snap a quick photo of the two of them from the back, where they were resting on the couch and talking back and forth.

At the sound of the snap of the lens their heads swivelled around, smiling at me. It was rude to interrupt them, of course, but they didn't mind the photography as much as some of my other family members did. I gave a half smile and turned to leave, meaning to continue to give them space, but Esme called me back into the room.

"Come sit with us for a minute, Jasper," she waved a hand over. Taking the Polaroid photo and placing it under a lamp, I settled myself into a seat near the window, letting the moonlight cast over me and spill onto the floor. Esme and Carlisle were smiling at me, and their emotions were calm, relaxed. Nothing too big of note. Yet I nonetheless find myself worrying over what they wanted to talk about.

"Alice told us you have developed an interest in one of the new girls - said she is different from the other humans." Carlisle paused, intertwining his hand with Esme. He looked me over. "I must admit, we were curious when we heard that. What makes her different?"

I wasn't usually the spotlight. I was the thinker, the listener in the background, the strategist. I read the room and I made wide based, well thought through decisions. Rarely, if ever, did I act on impulse. But this time I couldn't help it. 

"She's pure." It was the best I could do. Immediately I could see the recognition on their faces. It was a topic we had talked about extensively since Alice, Michael and I joined this family. If I could feel emotions, had I ever come across someone who only displayed one? Who was, in essence, pure?

Esme let out a sigh, leaning forward in her sudden surprise. "We talked about this for so long. I can't believe it is really happening."

"Can you describe it?" Though he didn't need to - perfect memory and all that - he reached over to a notebook he had on the side and opened it to write. Inside was a perfectly neat script, looped over and over from a time long since gone. "What was it like?"

I let more thoughts spill that evening then I had in a very, very long time. We speculated and talked and came up with questions we couldn't even hope to answer. By the time it was all done we were racing off to the typical morning activities, and suddenly, I was desperate to get to school.