Love Your Enemy

The moon was shining into their room; Olive knew it was late, but she also knew she wouldn’t manage to sleep anymore. She was exhausted after the day and the plane ride; however, she was too nauseous to lie still in the bed.

Elizabeth had her arms spread wide; Olive pushed her aside carefully not to wake her. The hallway was dimly lit; she heard her father’s loud snores and laughed silently.

She tiptoed down the hallway on her bare toes in her black tank-top and pink shorts, quieter than a mouse, but she was heard.
“Do you need anything, Olive?” Esme asked her softly and placed a hand on Olive’s shoulder.
Olive gasped and covered her mouth to silence the scream that built up. “Holy cow, Esme! You can’t sneak up on me like that,” she said with a hammering heart.

Esme smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry; I heard you and wondered if something was wrong.”
Olive shook her head. “No, just couldn’t sleep. Do you mind if I just walk around for a while?”
“Of course not, just call for me if you need me.”
“I will,” Olive said but Esme was already gone.

Olive shook her head in disbelief and continued walking. She walked up the stairs at the end of the hall; she hadn’t seen the whole house earlier. The third floor was completely empty and dark, except from a streak of light coming from a nearly shut door.

Classical music streamed from the room and drew her closer. She pushed open the door.
“Wow,” she whispered with wide eyes.

Olive felt like she’d stepped into a safe haven; bookshelves reaching from floor to roof, filled with worn out books, covered three of the walls in the square room; except one of the walls who was only a window. The room was overflowing with books. A big, old fashioned desk was placed in the middle; it was filled with papers. The music she’d expected to come from a stereo came from a golden gramophone placed on a small table.

She brushed her fingers over a few of the books, but they were completely dust free. She suspected this to be Dr. Cullen’s office. She sat down on a leather futon and picked up a book from the floor, she couldn’t help but grin when she saw it was in Latin.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
The book went flying as Olive jumped to her feet. She hadn’t noticed Jasper sitting in the big leather chair behind the desk.
“What is wrong with you people?” she snapped, feeling like she was taken red handed.

An angelic chuckle left his lips, which turned up in a smile. Olive felt calm immediately.
“What are you doing here?” she asked him with crossed arms.
“This is my room,” he said to her. “I think I’m the one to ask that question.”
Olive shrugged. “I thought you would be out killing something.”
“I already have,” he stared at her with intense eyes.

She stared back at him and sat down. “I thought you were like the grumpy Dracula.”
Jasper couldn’t help but smile wider. “Maybe I am. I’m just riled up; it’s not often you get the chance to scare someone in this house.”

“Where did you get all these books from?” she asked and changed the subject.
“I’m a collector. I’ve been in school for awhile as well.”
Olive tilted her head and took in his appearance. Golden hair and eyes. Lean body, dressed in light colors. He was the type that looked really kind, but there was something about him as well that just screamed danger.

“When were you changed?”
“During the Civil War,” Jasper looked away from her and started sorting through some papers.
“Okay, let me rephrase; grumpy old Dracula.”
“Why don’t we freak you out?” Jasper wondered. He was confused by her calm emotions.

She snorted. “I’m freaked out already, trust me. But I’m used to this,” she said and shrugged. “The supernatural, you know, my family is kinda freaky like yours.”
“True,” he nodded as he walked around the desk.

“Why are you the only one without a partner?” Olive sat cross-legged on the futon. She giggled to herself; curiosity killed the cat, or the vampire killed the curious girl.
“You ask an awful lot of questions.”
“It’s either that or I’ll go back to hatin’,” she winked.
Jasper held her stare, but realized she wouldn’t back down before he answered.
“My wife left me five years ago. I really don’t want to talk about it. I’m sure you carry on a lot of things you don’t like to talk about.”

Olive narrowed her eyes at him and decided that he was not to be trusted.
“You are nothing like your dad,” Jasper commented.
She pursed her lips before she spoke. “My family says I’m like my grandpa.”
Her answer made Jasper laugh. “Yes, Paul never liked us. But the feeling was mutual.”

“So, how does this gift of yours work?” She didn’t like his focus on her and changed the subject yet a gain.
“Do you want me to demonstrate?” he asked and walked closer.
Olive shrugged, followed by a quick nod of her head
.
“I’m just putting my hand on your shoulder; I won’t hurt you,” he said and raised a hand.
She rolled her eyes. “I’m not afraid of you; my dad and Ollie would kill you if you hurt me.”

She jumped a little when he placed his hand on her thin shoulder; she wasn’t used to the cold. Goosebumps covered her skin but she didn’t think about that for long before she started crying. Tears streamed from her eyes.

“Oh my god,” she sobbed and stared up at him. “What the hell are you doing to me? Let go of me!” Olive hated sadness, but she hated not having control even more.
“I’m sorry,” Jasper said and removed his hand. He changed her emotions again, and made her laugh uncontrollably.

“You have a really,” she said between laughs. “Sick gift,” she covered her mouth and tried to muffle her laughs.
“You should go back to sleep,” Jasper whispered and placed his hand back on her shoulder.
Olive tried to roll her eyes as she yawned and stretched. “This is really unfair.”
“Good night, Olive,” Jasper whispered to her as her eyes closed and she fell back against the futon.

Jasper was left with a dilemma when Olive passed out – both because of his gift as well as her being total and complete exhausted – he didn’t have any other choice than to carry her back to her room. And to be that close to her… it burned his throat like nothing else. His recently satisfied thirst flared up again at the scent of her sweet, sweet blood.

He hadn’t smelled anything like it since before Bella was turned, and Bella’s scent couldn’t even compare to Olive’s. Jasper closed his eyes and concentrated on how far he’d gotten. It was over thirty years since he’d had a taste of a human’s blood.

The window was open and gave him a gust of fresh air. Jasper inhaled deeply and held his breath as he carefully lifted the fragile girl into his arms. He froze when Olive gripped onto his shirt and snuggled closer, silent snores left her mouth.

A flicker of emotion flashed through Jasper. She was adorable, so serene and pure. But still so very fragile; Jasper knew he could never be as close to her as he knew he would need.

Jasper shook his head and walked down the stairs and back to her room. Her sisters lay deep in sleep, not that Jasper made any sound that could wake them. He placed her onto the only free bed. He pried her fingers free from his shirt and tucked the covers over her.

Jasper heard his brother before he saw him as he closed the door behind him.
“Do you need to talk, Jazz?” Edward asked. He’d heard Jasper's battling thoughts from the second Olive stepped into his room.
Jasper stared at his brother and begged him not to ask anything.
Edward sighed. “I’m here when you are ready. But be careful…” Edward trailed off. “She’s too frail to be exposed for stress. Her parents will know when she’s ready.”

Jasper walked away without saying anything.