Ravished and Ravenous. (Bella x m werewolf reader)

What are contacts?

'No, you don't need to know I work with him. The less you know about me...the better.' 

Thinking to myself, I was saved by the bell, or teacher in this case. Thankfully, Mr. Banner started class at that moment. I tried to concentrate as he explained the lab we would be doing today. The slides in the box were out of order. Working as lab partners, we had to separate the slides of onion root tip cells into the phases of mitosis they represented and label them accordingly. We weren't supposed to use our books. In twenty minutes, he would be coming around to see who had it right.

"Get started," he commanded.

"Ladies first, partner?" I asked. flashing a small smile that I hoped would diffuse the tension.

"Or I could start, if you wish." The smile faded; she was obviously wondering if I was mentally competent. She stared at me with a strange look in her eyes. Coughing a little, she flushed and I briefly thought if she was sick.

"No," she said, flushing. "I'll go ahead."

I was impressed already, just a little. She moved around flawlessly, making this lab look easy. She snapped the first slide into place under the microscope and adjusted it quickly to the 40X
objective. I studied the her briefly.

Her assessment was confident. "Prophase."

"Do you mind if I look?" I asked as I began to remove the slide. My hand caught hers unintentionally, to stop her, as I asked. Her hand was warm, but soft too; as if she regularly spent time looking after them.  But that wasn't why I jerked my hand away so quickly. When I touched me, it stung my hand as if an electric current had passed through us.

"I'm sorry," I muttered, pulling my hand back immediately. However, I continued to reach for the
microscope. I watched her out the corner of my eye, still staggered, as I examined the slide for an even shorter time than she had.

"Prophase," I agreed, writing it neatly in the first space on our worksheet. I swiftly switched out the first slide for the second, and then glanced at it cursorily.

"Anaphase," I murmured, writing it down as I spoke.

Next, it was my turn to be surprised as the reverse of what happened in prophase, happened again with a slightly different result; her hand lingered and the electrocution didn't occur this time; but she kept her voice indifferent. "May I?"

I smirked, chuckling internally, and pushed the microscope to her.

She looked through the eyepiece eagerly, disappointment on her face. I guess she was hoping to catch me out. Highly unlikely since Edward and Carlisle had me going over the course work long before I arrived.

"Slide three?" She held out her hand without looking at me. "Grumpy much?" I chuckled as she stuck her tongue out at me as I handed her the slide; careful to avoid skin contact.

"Interphase." She passed me the microscope before I could ask for it. I took a swift peek, and then wrote it down.

We were finished before anyone else was close. I could see Mike and his partner comparing two slides again and again, and another group had their book open under the table. I just rolled my eyes.

Which left me with nothing to do but try to not look at her... unsuccessfully. I glanced up, and she was staring at me, that same inexplicable look of frustration in her eyes, as if I was a nasty maths problem she couldn't figure out. Suddenly I identified that subtle difference in her face.

"Did you get contacts?" She shot the question at me and I panicked, trying to look confused as I answered her as calmly as possible. "No?" 

She muttered under her breath, "I thought there was something different about your eyes." 

I shrugged, looking away; internally panicking. She was incredible smart, and I had forgotten that.

***

Bella POV. 

He seemed puzzled by my unexpected question. "No."

"Oh," I mumbled. "I thought there was something different about your eyes."

He shrugged, and looked away.

In fact, I was sure there was something different. I vividly remembered the bright green of his eyes the last time he'd looked at me — the color was striking against the background of his pale skin and his h/c  hair. Today, his eyes were completely different colors: a strange ocher, darker than butterscotch, but with the same golden tone; a lowkey purple, like a blueberry and red like dried blood. I didn't understand how that could be, unless he was lying for some reason about the contacts. Or maybe Forks was making me crazy in the literal sense of the word.

I looked down. His hands were clenched into hard fists again.

Mr. Banner came to our table then, to see why we weren't working. He looked over our shoulders to glance at the completed lab, and then stared more intently to check the answers.

"So, Y/n, didn't you think Isabella should get a chance with the microscope?" Mr. Banner asked.

"Bella," he corrected automatically. "Actually, she identified three of the five."

Mr. Banner looked at me now; his expression was skeptical.

"Have you done this lab before?" he asked.

I smiled sheepishly. "Not with onion root."

"Whitefish blastula?"

"Yeah."

Mr. Banner nodded. "Were you in an advanced placement program in Phoenix?"

"Yes."

"Well," he said after a moment, "I guess it's good you two are lab partners." He mumbled something else as he walked away. After he left, I began doodling on my notebook again.

"It's too bad about the snow, isn't it?" Y/n asked. I had the feeling that he was forcing himself to
make small talk with me. Paranoia swept over me again. It was like he had heard my conversation with Jessica at lunch and was trying to prove me wrong.

"Not really," I answered honestly, instead of pretending to be normal like everyone else. I was still trying to dislodge the stupid feeling of suspicion, and I couldn't concentrate.


"You don't like the cold." It wasn't a question.

"Or the wet."

"Forks must be a difficult place for you to live," he mused.

"You have no idea," I muttered darkly, garnering a chuckle from the guy beside me.

He looked fascinated by what I said, for some reason I couldn't imagine. His face was such a distraction that I tried not to look at it any more than courtesy absolutely demanded.

"Why did you come here, then?"

No one had asked me that — not straight out like he did, demanding.

"It's... complicated."

"I think I can keep up," he pressed.

I paused for a long moment, and then made the mistake of meeting his gaze. His dark gold eyes confused me, and I answered without thinking.

"My mother got remarried," I said.

"That doesn't sound so complex," he disagreed, but he was suddenly sympathetic. "When did that happen?"