tongue twister • paul lahote

ix

T H E O N L Y S O U N D I N the quietness of the room was the sound of the two teens breathing in sync. The dim moonlight fasted glorious shadows over the shapeshifter and his friend watched him in admiration. Santana had went home with Paul, and to his satisfaction, agreed to stay the night. They shared his bed, and in the darkness of the night, they talked and confided. Paul slowly fell for her again and again with every word she said. They'd been laying together for hours, relishing each other's company. Sleep didn't seem to want to come to either teen. Paul was too infatuated, and Santana was too on edge about what her dreams had whispered in her ears the night before.

"You're killing me, you know." Paul whispered. Santana's eyelids fluttered, and she let out a mumble of confusion. She couldn't help letting her lips turn upwards into a timid smile at his words. "I've known you for such a short amount of time, but... it's like—you know what, no. Never mind." He tried to turn over, but her hands drifted over his bare abdomen and sent a shiver down his spine. He didn't even make the full 180 degree turn before he gave in and turned back towards his company.

"Tell me." She propped herself up into a semi-sitting position, resting on her elbow. Her eyes turned to him and he watched her.

"I care about you. Probably more than I should for only knowing you for a few weeks. I know what you said back at Emily's that day. I understand you're not ready, and for now I can be whatever you want. But you mean... the world. You're the world to me. I'll wait until you're ready. I'll always be here." He said, sounding pathetic to himself. To her, his words warmed her insides and her heart filled with yearning and desire. She hated to admit that her feelings were the same, so she simply didn't.

"Thank you, Paul." Was all she replied. His stomach dropped, and he nodded with a sense of rejection floating over his head. Her heart thudded in her chest, loud enough that Paul could hear it. Her cheeks were slightly red and her palms were growing clammy. She leaned down and pressed her lips to his cheek, and Paul's breath caught in his throat. She smiled against the extremely hot skin of his face, still feeling odd about his temperature. She understood, but agreed that it would take time for her to grow accustom to the new world brought upon her.

She laid back down on the soft mattress, and tangled herself into the side of him. Resting her arm over his bare stomach that was rising and falling gently, her eyes closed in happiness. Her head rested on the pillow so close to his shoulder, you could basically say she was touching him. His closeness brought her comfort which she never wanted to lose. Paul brought his hand to rest atop of hers and his skin tingled at the touch. She did so many things to him, and she had no starting idea. There, in that position, the two fell asleep wrapped in each other's aura.

*

Streaks of sunlight that peaked through trees crossed the young werewolves face as the two walked side by side. Santana watched, suddenly aware of her own simple mortality. He was so beautiful. So youthful, yet so big and strong. He was almost unnatural but so enchanting and endearing at the same time. The two were walking through the woods, bumbling over tree roots and shrubs. They didn't speak much, but they didn't have to.

"Where are we even going, Paul?" The warm air seemed to slowly dwindle away and the strands of sunlight began to cease. A slight wind picked up, and instinctively, Santana stepped closer to her friend.

"Sam, Embry and Jared wanted to meet up with us. We have to go get Jacob-"

"No," Santana cut him short.

"I promise everything will be fine. You won't even have to speak to him. We just need to go and get him at his house and make our way over to Emily's place." Paul slowed down his pace and glanced over at his imprints worried expression. When she didn't answer, he reached over and grabbed her hand. She accepted the affection a bit hesitantly, but almost immediately she relaxed into it. Her hand fit comfortably in his larger one after the decline in rigidness.