People would say you were an old soul, especially your twin sister, Bella Swan. You liked to read, paint and other things.

At the moment you had taken your sisters old truck out to Port Angeles and you made your way to an old music store. You were flitting through the records when your hand suddenly connected with a cold one. Immediately, you look at the person. It was tall, blonde and pale man with curly hair.

“Apologies,” Jasper Hale bowed his head in apology, a thick Southern drawl.