Chapter Eighteen: I Know

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James' POV



My fists clenched. The next thing I knew I was standing next to Harry, grabbing his shoulder and whipping him to face me.

I pulled my arm back, and watched his green eyes dilate; register danger. Before my fist could connect with his face, Harry was twenty feet away.

I growled, an inhuman noise from my throat as I teleported to his side again, trying to land a blow. He was too fast for me, and disappeared from my grip once more. Harry was very skilled at teleporting, and I soon realized I wouldn't be able to lay a hand on him as I desired.

"Goddamn it, Harold," I shouted, glaring at him. He warily eyed me from his safe distance twenty feet away. "Why do you always fuck everything up?"

"J, I didn't.. I mean, I-I.." Harry stuttered, pathetic excuses probably running his mind. I heard them all.

"You kissed my girlfriend!" My voice grew inexplicably louder. With a growl, I smashed my forearm into the nearest tree, a young and tender oak. At the brutal force of my Night anger, it swayed with a sickening crack; thudding to the forest floor.

Harry swallowed loudly. "James, listen-"

"No, asshole," I snarled. "You listen."

"James," a quiet, wary voice chirped from behind me.

I threw a withering glance over my shoulder at Elena. She refused to meet my eyes, instead fiddling with the ends of her copper hair.

"What?" I spat. My anger was not intentionally directed at her, but she winced at the low octave of my voice.

"Don't be mad at Harry," she whispered to her feet.

"Why shouldn't I?" I hissed in confusion. "He kissed you!"

"No," Elena said simply. "No, he didn't, James."

I faltered for a moment, the tight clench of my muscles temporarily loosening. "What?"

She hesitated. "I did."



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Elena's POV


I felt my heart break along with James' expression. He crumpled, his brows furrowing in utter confusion; his tall body suddenly looking much shorter than before. As if the gravitational pull where he stood was suddenly much stronger.

"What?" James asked softly, hoping he'd misheard.

I felt like a terrible person. I couldn't lie; couldn't deny it any longer. I loved Harry. Yet, the feelings for James were still there. How sick was it that I was forced to choose between two inhumanly beautiful twins, both vying for my heart, which they'd both stolen?

James. Gentle, deceitful, fastidious James. I knew his kind demeanor concealed a raging demon, but with love, it could be contained. If only I'd loved him long enough to do so.

Then there was Harry. Cold, distant, and seemingly unkind. Unlike his brother, his rude personality masked an amazingly generous soul, caring and selfless. Harry needed love as well; it was the only way to expose his true self.

"I kissed him," I repeated.

James appeared directly in front of me. I flinched, then regained my composure; not daring to meet his eyes. But instead of the onslaught of anger I expected, James' voice was soft; weak. Like a baby bird.

"Why?"

I couldn't reply. A thousand lame excuses were milling through my head at this point; none seemed plausible enough to reason why I'd kissed my boyfriend's brother.

I opened my mouth, but James beat me to it. "You love him." It was more statement than question, and we both knew it was fact.

And I realized, as James gestured to his brother awkwardly standing forty feet away, that I did.

"Yeah," I replied honestly, scuffing my boot into the leaves abashedly. "I do."

James didn't react like I expected him to. He didn't launch himself at Harry with an overrun Night rage; he didn't break down crying and beg for my heart. In fact, he didn't react at all. He simply stuck his hands in his pockets and looked left, out into the seemingly endless trees.

"I know," was all he said before walking a little ways away. As I watched in confusion, James disappeared into the trees.

All he left behind was a simple sense of closure, settling over the clearing like a light fall of snow.

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