Lost Skeletons ↠ Rosalie Hale [2] ✓

08

"No, please. No."

Beau winced at the sound of Leah Clearwater's voice, her entire body being covered by a equally upset Sue Clearwater. Both of the Clearwater women grieving over Harry Clearwater's sudden death.

Beside him, Jared was staring at the ground with a distant look in his eyes. Paul and Sam were behind him, alongside Embry, and Quil. All of the werewolves were uncharacteristically quiet, and Beau wished there was something he could do to help.

Sue was holding her shaking daughter on their couch, both of them waiting for Seth to get home from school; where they'd tell him about his father's fatal heart attack. Sue had wanted to call Seth in from school; but Sam had told her to wait, not wanting to risk Seth freaking out and phasing in the office.

Leah wasn't crying like everyone expected her to, she was just shaking. Beau didn't know Leah, but there was something about her that reminded him of Rosalie - though they looked nothing alike.

Leah with her jet black hair and russet skin, long slim body and broad shoulders; she didn't match Rosalie's willowy ivory colored body type in any way.

It was their strength, perhaps, that was what made them alike. Their ability to control their emotions until the right time. Rosalie with her years of repression and Leah with a clear enough head to stop from adding into her mother's chaos over the loss of her husband.

Beau didn't know how Leah did it. Maybe he'd never know, but he silently praised her for it.

"Beau,"

Turning around, Beau faced Paul with raised eyebrows set in a question.

Paul sighed, leaning forwards to say quietly, "Do you want to go home?"

Beau didn't know what to say in that moment. Apart of him thought that staying there was helping the situation, that maybe he was adding some comfort into the home. Another part of him quickly said that maybe he was the reason Leah wasn't crying - because Beau wasn't someone she trusted.

Nodding his head, Beau followed Paul towards Sam's truck. Paul took the drivers seat, dangling Sam's keys on his index finger as Beau took the passenger.

Both of them said nothing as Paul pulled away from the Clearwater house and headed back into town. Turning to study Paul's face cautiously, Beau saw that Paul's face was creased with worry but other than that, he didn't look as affected as the others did with Harry's death.

"What?" Paul asked, turning to look at him with a soft smile.

Beau instantly knew that the smile was fake. "I'm just trying to gauge you reaction to...everything,"

"I'm fine," Paul said, hands tensing on the steering wheel. "I'm just thinking over a few things."

"Like?"

"Sam told me not to tell you," Paul said, and then his eyes got wide like he wasn't supposed to say that out lout but his mouth hadn't gotten the memo. He turned his eyes to glance at Beau for a second, before stating, "Ignore me."

"What doesn't Sam want to tell me?" Beau asked, feeling his heart get heavy in his chest.

"It's nothing Beau. Just let it go," Paul insisted, staring straight ahead. There was something in his voice that told Beau that whatever Sam was making Paul keep away from him, it was important.

"Tell me," Beau stated, not giving up.

He'd gotten a few things from his mother, and one of them was her persistence. He would ask repeatedly for Paul to tell him all day and never get tired; especially when it was something he really wanted to know.