❝ what if i never get better? what if this is all i am? ❞ / pretend i sent this from jaspers blog
@whitl0cks / @postm0rtems (thank you!)
Jasper doesn't even turn to address her. He's stood on the balcony that leads into the reception area; the dust has settled from the events that occurred this evening, but Esme knows that they will be picking up the pieces for days, if not weeks, to come.
And she knows that Jasper will inevitably blame himself—hate himself—for something that is in their nature. If anything, denying himself the one thing they all want is the unnatural aspect of their existence.
Hands settle on the stained wood in front of her, the night offering some semblance of piece where it's otherwise hard to find.
The smell of blood still lingers. Seeped into carpet and dried against smashed glass. Esme's already made a note to change the carpet. Bleach isn't a particularly pleasant smell when your existence does nothing more than amplify the stench, nostrils burning with chemicals that are unpleasant, even for a human.
"You say that whilst ignoring the progress you've already made, Jasper." Her voice is gentle, resting on the breeze that plays with the leaves on branches. "You are so much more than this moment now. So much more than the category of vampire." She knows he'll hardly believe her. Despite the fact Esme believes this to her very bones, she can't help but acknowledge how flat it falls now. If anything helps, she just hopes her inherent sincerity aids in helping Jasper believe her.
"One moment, one mistake, Jasper, that doesn't define us. Alice will blame herself for this too, but will you let her?" Esme doesn't mean to get personal, but she knows when it comes to these two specifically, they find comfort in each other. Being able to relate him back to Alice will hopefully help him see more clearly. "You are a husband, a brother, a friend. You have survived when it felt like you shouldn't have. I am so proud of you, Jasper. Most importantly, I can see how hard you always try."
She takes a moment to glance up at him, his gaze concentrating hard on something in the distance.
"Come on, sweetheart. Shall we go for a hunt?" she suggests, moving her hand to place it on top of his, desperately trying to get him to come back to her. "We both need it."