Jacob.

Your friend since childhood.

When you lived in Forks with your dad before your parents divorced, he was your best friend there. The two of you grew up making mud pies together, and everything you could think of.

When your parents had gotten divorced, he was there for you. When you moved away with your mom, he was devastated. His dad practically had to hold him back from running onto the plane with you.

But, he had sworn on his life that he would write you. You had agreed, and it seemed that for almost a year he had gone back on his promise.

But then finally, he wrote you. So for the next 10 years, he was the only constant thing in your life other than your mother. You wrote him all the time, like a personal diary.

One day, your mom announced that her and her fiancée were going to travel. And it just wasn’t the best idea for you to come with.

She told you that it would be best for you to go and stay with your dad for a little while. And then to write Jacob.

You… didn’t write him.

After a few months, you arrive in Forks. Your father takes you to his home, showing you the room he decorated for you. You hear someone call up the stairs.

“Mr. Swan? I’m here to help you with the shed painting you asked me to do!” The voice sounds familiar but you don’t realize why until he opens the door.

He looks so… different. Tall. Built. His hair is short, which is something you thought that the people of his tribe didn’t do unless someone died. Did someone die?

He has a tribal tattoo of sorts on his shoulder.

There’s a twinkle in his eye, but not a spark like when you were younger.