The drive back from La Push was quiet — too quiet.
Everyone in the van was exhausted after the sand war and laughter, their conversations slowly fading into yawns. Jessica was half-asleep against the window, Mike kept muttering something about "sand in his ears," and Angela softly hummed to herself.
But with Bella… it was different.
She sat stiffly beside Amara, eyes distant, completely lost in thought. Her fingers fidgeted, tapping against her knee, while her teeth worried her bottom lip. The sound of the rain against the van seemed to echo her restlessness.
Oh great, Amara thought, glancing at her cousin. She's entered the Bella Swan Overthinking Dimension again. Someone get a rope.
When they finally pulled into Forks, the town was cloaked in mist — streetlights glowing weakly, rain dripping off rooftops, the usual sleepy quiet of a Forks night.
Jessica stretched as the van stopped in front of the house. "Fun day!" she said, her voice a little too high for how tired she looked.
"Totally," Mike yawned. "Remind me to never challenge Amara to a sand war again."
Angela smiled, gentle as ever. "Goodnight, you two. Get some rest."
Amara waved, her tone cheerful. "Goodnight! Dream of less sand and fewer near-death experiences with marshmallows."
They laughed and drove off, the van disappearing into the mist.
Bella, however, just stood there for a moment, staring at nothing, her mind clearly miles away — possibly replaying Jacob's story on a loop.
Amara sighed and opened the door. "Come on, philosopher. The porch isn't going to answer your vampire questions."
Bella blinked and followed her inside, still looking like she'd just had a deep existential talk with the ocean.
The house smelled faintly of Charlie's aftershave and leftover spaghetti — cozy, ordinary, beautifully human. But Bella didn't notice.
Amara kicked her shoes off, tossing her jacket on the hook. "I'll make coffee," she said, already heading for the kitchen. "Maybe caffeine will stop your brain from combusting."
Bella didn't reply. She was standing in the middle of the kitchen, one hand tangled in her hair, staring into space like she'd forgotten where she was.
Amara filled the kettle, muttering, "Perfect. My cousin's body is here, but her soul's currently Googling 'how to identify vampires in your small town.'"
The coffee machine hissed softly. Outside, the rain pattered against the window — a familiar Forks lullaby.
Then Bella spoke, quietly, almost to herself.
"Cold ones," she murmured. "Pale, strong, fast…treaty.."
Amara turned slowly, spoon in hand. "Oh no, she's narrating now. It's worse than I thought."
Bella ignored her, pacing a little. "It's just… I mean, it's obviously not true, right? It can't be. But—"
"Bella," Amara cut in, stirring the coffee like a witch brewing trouble. "You know, I love you, but sometimes I think your brain needs a firewall."
Bella didn't respond, still deep in her spiral.
Amara sighed dramatically and reached for the sugar jar. "Alright, caffeine therapy it is."
"One spoon for Bella," she said, stirring. "For energy."
Bella didn't blink.
"Two spoons," Amara continued, voice gaining a wicked edge. "For courage."
Still nothing.
Amara grinned like a cartoon villain. "And… three. For good luck."
Her hand didn't stop. Four. Five. Six. Maybe seven.
At this point, it was less coffee and more a drinkable dessert.
Amara chuckled to herself. "That'll teach her to ignore me for her internal Twilight documentary."
Finally, she placed both mugs on the counter. "Bella!"
No response.
"BELLA!"
Bella jumped, hair flying everywhere. "What?! What happened?"
Amara took a casual sip. "Nothing. Except you've been standing there like an exhibit in a art museum."
Bella frowned. "Sorry, I was just thinking about what Jacob said. You know, about the Cullens and that treaty thing. It's—"
"Oh yes," Amara interrupted with mock enthusiasm. "The mysterious cold ones." She made dramatic air quotes. "Bella Swan, professional danger magnet, now intrigued by local monster legends. Classic."
Bella rolled her eyes. "I'm not intrigued! I just— it's weird, okay?"
Amara grinned, leaning on the counter. "Right. Weird. Totally not you mentally writing a research paper titled 'Why My Lab Partner Might Be Emo boy.'"
Bella groaned. "Amara, stop."
Amara smirked. "I mean, if Edward really is a cold one, maybe you could, I don't know— warm him up?"
Bella froze mid-breath, her face turning pink. "Oh my God, stop saying things like that!"
Amara handed her the mug. "Fine, fine. Here. Sweet coffee for a sweet denial."
Bella squinted suspiciously at the cup but took it anyway.
Amara hummed happily, lifting her own mug. "Try not to summon anything weird tonight, okay? I just mopped the floor yesterday."
Bella muttered under her breath, "You're impossible."
"Admit it," Amara said, heading up the stairs. "You'd be bored without me."
Halfway up, she heard it.
"AMARA! I WILL KILL YOU!"
Amara grinned like a satisfied villain, sipping her coffee. "Mission accomplished."
In her room, she set her mug on the desk and went straight to the window. The forest beyond was cloaked in fog, dark and breathing. The trees swayed under the wind's whisper, and somewhere in the distance — faint but clear — came a long, low howl.
Amara's smile faded just a little. Her reflection in the glass looked small, the light flickering faintly over her shoulder.
"What's next, huh?" she murmured softly. "Because something's coming. I can feel it."
The wind stirred, as if answering.
A chill crawled up her spine. She shut the window and locked it tight.
"Yep. Locked," she said, double-checking. "After today, who knows what Bella's sugar-fueled imagination might summon. Or worse — what might answer."
She took one last sip of her coffee and exhaled slowly.
Then—
From downstairs, a loud, dramatic sneeze echoed. Followed by:
"WHY DOES MY COFFEE TASTE LIKE PURE SUGAR, YOU MENACE?!"
Amara snorted so hard she almost spilled her cup. The tension vanished, replaced with helpless laughter.
"Crisis averted," she whispered with a grin. "Bella's fine. Still human. Just diabetic now."
She took another sip and sighed contentedly, eyes drifting to the dark forest one last time.
Rain whispered against the glass. Another distant howl rolled through the night.
Amara froze for a heartbeat. Then shrugged.
"Eh. Probably a dog or maybe probably jacob's friends who knows."
She smiled, turned off the lamp, and whispered,
"Note to self — never underestimate caffeine, cousins, or cosmic irony."
Outside, the storm thickened patient, waiting.
But for now, the house was filled only with warmth, laughter… and a faint sugary aftertaste of impending chaos.
Just as Amara was about to close her eyes, a loud thud echoed from downstairs — followed by Bella's muffled voice yelling, "AMARA! YOU PUT SIX SPOONS OF SUGAR IN MY COFFEE!"
Amara snorted into her pillow. "Correction," she muttered sleepily. "Seven. For extra luck that we both will need for sure in future."
The rain still pattering gently outside, she yawned and pulled the blanket up to her chin.
"Bella's been less polite lately," she murmured sleepily, half to herself. "Always yelling at me… who knows what happened to her."
A lazy grin tugged at her lips.
Outside, the rain whispered against the glass, and for a fleeting second, the world felt almost normal again — sugary chaos, caffeine, and cousins included.
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