PACK || TWLGHT OS 02

Paul Lahote | Please, Forgive Us

By : imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl | Tumblr

Pairing: Paul Lahote X Reader

Word count: 1.8K

Requested by anon: hi I was wondering if you could write a paul imagine where it's the readers birthday and everyone forgets and the reader feels like they're not apart of their little family/pack and paul feels bad and tries to make it up to them ??

Summary: Paul, and the whole pack forgot about your birthday. And you don't plan on forgiving them anytime soon.

×

You're not pissed. You're not angry. But you wish you were. Being furious would be a lot better than feeling so sad. Closing your bedroom door shut with a loud thud, you fall on the bed, hiding your face on the pillow.

You weren't hoping for a big party or anything, you just thought someone would say something. A 'happy birthday' isn't too much to ask, is it? Maybe it is. Maybe you got it all wrong with the boys. Ever since Paul told you the truth about what he is, you've been pretty much part of the pack. Or at least that's what you thought. Your whole life happens around them. They're your friends, the boys and their imprints as they come, they're you're family. Well, you thought they were. After having shitty parents, you felt unbelievably welcome by Sam and Emily, and maybe, just maybe, you let this need of belonging take over, causing you to misread things.

You won't cry though. You force the tears back as you keep ignoring whoever is calling you. Calling it a night, you shower and change into the usual sleeping clothes, an old baggy T-shirt and leggings, crawling back into bed and hiding under the blankets. It's not even seven yet, but you don't care. Sleeping is the best thing you can do at the moment.

•••

A funny noise makes you move a little, breathing deeply before tossing around. Pulling the blankets over your head, you immediately start drifting off to sleep again, but the blanket is pulled away violently, making you sit up abruptly as a yell leaves your throat.

"What the hell?" You manage to form the words, taking the pillow and throwing it at Paul's face. He has the decency to let it hit him, even though he doesn't flinch. "What are you doing here?"

You don't need to ask him how, since the window was left open. "I know it's late, but–" He gestures at the digital clock you have by the nightstand, and you follow his action. It's 2 a.m. "I had to come and say how sorry I am for–"

"Don't say anything, Paul. Just... Let it go as I did." Every word comes out full of anger, and you're proud that you're not crying. Paul knows you better than anyone, so he's well aware of everything you're feeling right now. You don't have to explain or pretend. It's good and bad at the same time.

"I can't and I won't. Look..." He comes to the bed, sitting beside you. "There aren't enough words on the English dictionary to say how sorry I am, (Y/N)." When his hand comes to caress your cheek, you move away, sighing. You love Paul, that's not debatable, but you just can't stand him right now.

"Paul, I think I need to be alone for a while, ok? You know me, I... I know it's silly, but–"

"It's not silly, (Y/N). A birthday it's a special day and I'm hating myself for forgetting it. The boys are pretty upset too and I know you rather be left alone when you're sad, but this time I can't." He stands up, taking your hand and pulling you up. "C'mon."

"Paul, I don't wanna go anywhere. I just want to go back to sleep." You mutter, not having a choice but to follow him.

You remain quiet as he drags you to his car and starts driving. Eyes focused on the darkness of the night outside the window, you struggle to endure the cold. You don't want to touch Paul right now.