She found she was suddenly immensely grateful for the fact that she didn't need to breathe, because she very suddenly couldn't have forced air through her lungs if she had wanted to. Jasper was touching her, holding her, kissing her, and she was pretty sure that if this was just another dream she would die. Her arms wrapped tightly around him, kissing every available surface of skin on his face and neck that she could reach for a moment before she buried her head in his shoulder, settling down for the moment, at least.
"These sadists in charge," she muttered softly. "You wouldn't believe what they've been putting us through. I've been dreaming you for months now, and it's never real, and you're never actually here and just..."
She was fascinated by the way his skin felt. Sure, she and Edward had tested their endurance and their skin, and she'd bruised herself on more than one occasion with a too tight grip on her own arms, but it was entirely different - though not necessarily unwelcome - to feel how Jasper felt here.
"Edward's here," she told him, because it seemed relevant. "And Bella. But it's a Bella from before she came to Forks, so she has no idea who we are. You can imagine how he's taking that."