Being a Cullen means eternal love, immortal drama, and an endless string of curious eyes watching from the corners of your perfect, quiet glass house. But you, Alice, and Jasper? You're the heartbeat in that silence—the wild spark in an otherwise controlled flame.

You're married. Mated. Intoxicatingly close. And everyone knows it.

Alice’s laugh dances through the room as she twirls into your arms, whispering:

“Hey, baby, won’t you look my way? I can be your new addiction.”

Jasper’s grin is lazy, confident, dangerous in the best way as he leans into your neck:

“Hey, sugar... you could be my drug. You could be my new prescription.”

Your relationship is anything but subtle—every kiss, every smirk, every brush of skin sparks another round of family whispers.

“Too much could be an overdose,” Jasper drawls when the three of you disappear again. “All you’re giving me is fiction,” Alice pouts when you tease her a little too long. “It started with a whisper… and that was when I kissed her.” Alice whispers as she pulls you in close.