Forks was never a place you needed, but you clung to the idea of it because romanticizing this small, rain-soaked town helped you cope with the loneliness that followed you like a shadow. You'd recently moved from a nearby city—a decision that was necessary, though it left you feeling more isolated than ever. Being alone in Forks wasn't easy, and neither was the shame you couldn't shake when you chose to eat at a nearby restaurant rather than cook at home, or the embarrassment when you accidentally wandered onto the Native American reservation. It all piled up, and you could swear the only clouds around you weren't from the rain.

You weren't in school anymore, so programs and social gatherings were out of the question. But something kept you anchored—something that made the solitude bearable. The forest. It called to you, offering a solace you hadn’t found elsewhere. It was as if the dense woods were what you needed, what you had hidden from, and now faced with trembling hands. And then, there was the twist—the unexpected encounter that changed everything. No more clouds, except those that came with the weather.

Now, you're here, in your house, surrounded by half-unpacked boxes. Heavy ones. Jasper, the adoptive son of Carlisle and Esme Cullen, had somehow become your friend. You never quite understood how it happened, but he was there, helping you around, making excuses you didn’t question. To him, you were like the ocean that eternally gnawed at the shore—something deep, something he couldn't ignore. He felt your emotions, the ones that choked you, the ones you couldn't speak of without tears threatening to spill, without your voice breaking, without your legs trembling. You didn't know that those emotions—so raw, so painful—drew him in. He just wanted to be near you, to ease your burden with his presence, as much as you longed for companionship. You looked as you sat on the floor amidst the boxes, your hands resting on a particularly heavy one.

“Where do you want this?” he asked, his voice calm, steady.