Golden Hour: A Team Jacob Twilight FanFic

You Know Things are Bad When You Feel Guilty for Existing

I wasn't physically able to get drunk, but I think this was the closest thing to what having a hangover felt like.

Regretful, headache, extremely thirsty, disorientated, anxious.

I felt fucking gross. For multiple reasons.

No, I didn't sleep with Elizabeth, or kiss her again, or even look at her much at all.

Last night, after the kiss, she put on a movie in her room, but instead of watching it with her, I was in the bathroom puking up all the expensive crab legs I had eaten the day prior. It was nasty; it came up in whole pieces, which was my new reminder to chew my damn food.

I told her I wasn't feeling too hot and stayed in a separate room in case I was contagious. Honestly, it wasn't a lie. Misery was a contagious thing, and I didn't want to subject her to that.

I slept on the hardwood floor in the extremely hot spare bedroom with the door locked.

Why not sleep in the bed, Jacob? Cause that would be weird. Plus, I might be a masochist who loves re-tweaking my back. However, sleep might be the wrong word since I did not do any of that. Instead, I stared at the white popcorn ceiling for 8 hours straight. Thinking. And nothing good ever came from that.

I thought about how dumb it was that I had these healing abilities that only worked on physical ailments. I tried to will it into reality that it could also heal my dumb, mangled heart. Clearly didn't work cause now, according to the digital clock on the nightstand, it was 7 AM. Not a lick of peaceful rest. Just straight-up guilt-infested thoughts shouting at me for hours on end.

My stomach rumbled so loud that I was afraid Elizabeth was able to hear it from down the hall. Knowing her, she'd probably hear it and start making pancakes without asking.

I had to get out of here before that happened.

I grabbed my backpack and ducked out under the bedroom door, listening for any movement from within the house. I heard nothing, so I tip-toed down the stairs, channeling my inner mouse. When you're 6'7, 260-something pounds, trying to sneak out of a creaky ass house was a challenge. With every step, I winced.

She wasn't downstairs or in the kitchen, so she must've still been asleep in her room. I didn't have a key to her house to lock up, which was fine cause Elizabeth never locked it, to begin with—we were in super safe suburban hell, after all.

Since no custies were scheduled for the day, I was free to leave. So I did exactly that.

—

It was about an hour walk from Liz's to Sunnyside Forest Park in Surrey. I tried to blend in with the other couple of hikers walking the entrance path, though I don't know why. It wasn't like they were suspicious that I was about to morph into a giant wolf. I was just a dude. Just like them. Takin' a stroll. Nothing to see here.

I started on a hiking trail that no one else decided to venture on and made my way through the forest. For a forest located in the middle of a city, it sure didn't feel like it. It was an expansive area; the moss strewn everywhere, and the only sounds were those of my steps and the birds flying overhead in the trees.

When I was deep enough, and the coast was clear of any hikers, I stalked off the trail through thick shrubs. In between the tallest shrub, I stripped and buried the clothes and backpack in the dirt beside it.

I'd been itching to phase, and last night's events had pushed it into a need.

Already, I felt more in my element as I began running. Fast. And as naturally as it always came, I felt myself start to turn into something else.