11.28.2020 - twilight fanfic/AU thoughts

aka that one fanfic i wrote to impress a girl (i really hope it worked)

It is an unfamiliar night for our three heroes, spent in a shabby tent with tensions occupying every inch of breathing space. Bella, try as she might, loses her fight against sleep. Sheer exhaustion causes her eyelids to drop, her body exhausted from cold and the events of the previous day.
Oh, Bella, Jacob thinks. Few words can describe the depth of warmth the werewolf carries for this human. Sometimes, when his guard is low (or when he is mere centimeters away from her), he thinks of her as his human. Underneath the foul, vampiric scent of undeath-stone-musk, he can still smell his home, the aromas of motor oil and the forest lingering on her skin. It combines with her natural odor into what he is certain is the world’s most perfect scent. He will never find another like her. To be this close to her, curled against her spine with his arms around her, and in this position! - but his thoughts are interrupted.
“Can you, at least, attempt to control your thoughts?” Edward mutters, voice low for her benefit, tiredness dripping from each word instead of the anger Jacob expected from the creature who had stolen Bella.
“I really get under that ice cold skin of yours, don't I?” “What? Are you doubting her feelings for you?” Jacob retorts. He is unable to push down the jealousy brewing in his stomach, but his body remains lax and happy to be so close to Bella, his inner wolf singing songs of joy to a bright, full moon. He wishes he believed Bella had been stolen. It would make this so much easier, if he hated Edward. But he doesn’t, and that guilty little reminder from his conscience pushes him to keep going. “Nice... So picking through my brain's okay, but letting me into yours, forget it. Look... I know she's in love with you.” He tries to ignore the twinge in his heart from admitting his loss, but he knows Edward can sense it regardless.
“Oh, good,” the creature snarks, but there’s no bite in that. What an entirely alien concept, a vampire without its bite. Something in Edward’s expression compels Jacob to keep trying, refusing to back down for some unknown reason. He doesn’t know what to do when his natural enemy seems less like an enemy, and more like a tired, and pale human boy.
He swallows, and tries to make himself as big as he can be, curled up next to a human girl. “But she's in love with me, too. She just won't admit it to herself.” This, he knows to be true. He can smell it in her, see it in the way she looks at him.
“I can't tell you if you're right.”
Whatever pitiful attempt at playing alpha wolf dies in Jacob and his wolf at this terrible acquiescence. As much as he resents Edward, he knows Bella better than to pretend like she’s really a perfect goddess of a teenage girl. The wolf in him whines, remembering the ice-cold feeling of nothingness rushing through his veins when he had thought, just for a moment, that Bella might be rushing not to love, but death.
But he’s still a demon, Jacob reminds himself. A bloodsucker, an enemy, an unnatural corpse waltzing around past his expiration date, and a killer of his clan and family. The attempt fails. In the shelter of the tent, with the winds shrieking around them, and the rustle of trees accompanying them, all the narratives running in Jacob’s mind are drowned out. In front of him, he sees a wretched thing, tethered to the world by the same force that ties Jacob to Bella. A tragedy of epic proportions, one doomed never to taste the sweetness of a life lived in full. In front of him, he sees a boy out of time.
As much as Jacob wants to be the one to make Bella happy, he remembers the chaos from when Edward left. And Bella chose to chase after Edward, in the stupidest ways possible. She made her decision clear.
Edward, having sensed Jacob’s thoughts, speaks softly. “I know you can protect her. And you can give her a life, a human life. It's all I want for her. But, I'm not... I'm not going to force her into anything, ever again. The last time I tried, it almost killed us both.” He loves her enough to die with her, Jacob realizes. Something Jacob cannot do.
“When you thought she was gone... ... that you'd lost her... How did you... cope?” He probes, sensing a shift in the air.
“There are... no words. But I wouldn't wash it on anyone, Jacob. This might sound odd, but I'm glad you're here. As much as I'd love to kill you, I'm glad she's warm. If we weren't natural enemies... ... and you weren't trying to steal my reason for existing... I might actually like you.”
A stillness settles into the small shared space of the tent. The words linger in the chilled air, frozen by the intensity of Edward’s eyes, looking directly at Jacob for the first time this evening. Unable to look away, the two boys are caught by the honesty laid bare before them.
I might actually like you.
Jacob makes a choice.
“Get over here.” Without breaking eye contact, he lifts the insufficient sleeping bag up in an obvious invitation. He refuses to think about what his words mean, but Edward furrows his brows.
“What game are you playing,” He doesn’t sound amused, but Jacob can see the corners of his lips curl upward in a wry grin.
“The only way for you to stop being such a cold-blooded leech is if I warm you up.”

Changes from canon: