The bell over the bookstore's door gave its usual halfhearted jingle as Alex slipped out of the drizzle and into the warm cocoon of paper and quiet. Forks' only bookstore smelled like coffee grounds and old dreams, cramped aisles sagging beneath the weight of a thousand stories.
He wandered between shelves, fingers trailing along cracked spines. Every so often, he'd glance at the rain-smeared window, wondering—absurdly—if small towns ever tired of being so gray.
Not that he minded. Slow days meant space to think. Or…overthink, maybe.
No soulmates here, Alex reminded himself, smirking inwardly. Just rain, coffee, and maybe—if the universe had a sense of humor—a decent mystery paperback.
A ripple of laughter cut through the hush near the back. He lifted his gaze and spotted Alice Cullen: pixieish, bright-eyed, magnetic in a way that felt both familiar and…dangerous, maybe. Beside her stood Rosalie Hale—self-possessed, arms folded, giving the impression that she'd rather be anywhere else but somehow made standing still an event.
"Alex!" Alice's voice lit up the room, drawing a few quiet glares from the other patrons. She didn't care. "Out in this weather? Hiding from the rain, or chasing a good read?"
He found himself grinning before he could stop. "Why not both? It's a good day for stories."
Rosalie appraised him with cool precision, but Alex just offered his warmest, most harmless smile. Easy. Just strangers in a bookstore. Nothing complicated. And anyway, they've got their own stories—mates and all that. Canon rules, right?
Alice turned, an inviting tilt to her chin. "Come on, you can help us choose. Or at least judge Rosalie's taste."
Rosalie's lips twitched—almost a smile. "You're brave, volunteering for that."
Alex shrugged, keeping things light. "Maybe I just like a challenge."
She's beautiful, he thought, catching himself as he looked a little too long at Rosalie. And Alice—her laughter bubbled up again, golden and almost…hopeful? He forced himself not to think about it. Not your lane, man. They've got…people. That's what the stories said. Just stick to picking a book.
Across the aisle, Alice hugged a hardcover to her chest, watching him with clear, sparkling focus.
Alice
She felt the charge in the air before Alex officially joined them; it made her fingers tingle and her tone lighter than usual. He's here. And he doesn't know, not really, but there's something in the way he glances over—like déjà vu, but softer. Oh, I hope he stays.
A soulmate, she thought, the word humming with promise and confusion. It was new, the feeling, but thrilling—she and Rosalie were always the single ones in the family, eternally on the outside, Edward included, though he wore loneliness differently. Now, with her mate right here, she could barely rein herself in after waiting so many years. Maybe, she considered, she should mention they were single—a hint to spare any more misunderstandings.
She tried to play it cool, teasing Rosalie and nudging Alex with jokes, but inside her heart raced.
Maybe he'll understand, in time.
Rosalie
Rosalie kept her posture deliberately closed, but she watched Alex when he pretended not to notice. Small details pressed at her: the way he didn't leer, didn't push. He respected the space between them, yet seemed quietly drawn to it. That—more than any small-town gossip—unnerved her in the best and worst ways.
He thinks we're unavailable. Safe from longing. He buys the story—good. It's safer. For now.
Rosalie's voice stayed cool as ever when she spoke, but she didn't miss the way Alice relaxed around Alex, or the strange warmth stirring in her own chest—a warning and a dare bound together.
Alex (cont'd)
"So, what are we reading?" Alex asked, picking up a battered copy of a fantasy novel and waving it gently at Alice.
She grinned. "That one's perfect for a rainy day. Full of unexpected turns. You might like it."
Rosalie's eyes flicked from the book to Alice, then to Alex—evaluating. A silent nudge passed between the sisters. Alex caught it and didn't flinch, just tucked the book under his arm and offered, "Guess I'll find out."
They moved toward the counter as a group—awkward but not unwelcome. Outside, rain rattled the glass, blurring the world.
As Alice nudged Rosalie playfully and Rosalie finally ceded a small, grudging smile to Alex, he felt the peculiar, invisible thread that tethered him here tighten just a little. He imagined it was curiosity—nothing more. But as he slipped out with his book and the lingering memory of Alice's gold-flecked gaze and Rosalie's sideways glance, he felt something stir—something subtle and unnamed, as if their vampire beauty called to him, but perhaps there was more beneath the surface, a gravity he couldn't—or wouldn't—yet admit.
He was almost at the door when Alice's voice caught him, bright and hopeful: "Hey, Alex—want to grab coffee with us at the café? It's just next door. I promise Rosalie won't bite."
Rosalie shot Alice a sharp look but didn't argue. Alex glanced between them, then nodded, a soft laugh escaping as he let himself follow the invitation.
For the first time since he'd arrived in Forks, the world outside seemed a little less gray. Maybe—just maybe—it wasn't fate he couldn't escape, but the start of something entirely unexpected.