Devotion, Jasper Hale

January 18th, 2005, Forks Washington.

"You're gonna be late!" Esme's voice, usually so calm, was laced with a rare hint of exasperation as she called out to her seven 'children'. Carlisle had, wisely, left for work early, sensing the impending chaos that was a standard morning in the Cullen household.

Alice, ever the fashionista, was locked in a spirited debate with Oliver, attempting to coerce him into matching outfits. He, equally stubborn, was refusing with a polite but firm smile. Edward and Emmett, meanwhile, were engaged in their usual territorial dispute over the passenger seat, a squabble as old as their collective centuries. Rosalie, head in hands in the driver's seat of her beloved car, looked as if she were contemplating a leap off the nearest cliff, her patience stretched thin.

Catherine, nestled comfortably in the backseat, gently patted Rosalie's back, a silent offer of comfort. Beside her, Jasper, oblivious to the cacophony, was immersed in a book, his hand resting reassuringly on her thigh. The scent of old paper and his familiar cologne filled her senses, a comforting anchor in the beautiful chaos of her family.