"I take back what I said the first time we met. I never could have been more wrong."
"Oh, and what would that be?"
"Every thing about you - every thing you do, or say, or even when you scrunch your nose when you don't really like something - just ma...
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I SIGHED, MUSCLES RELAXING AS I ran absent-mindedly through the woods. Bella's most recent breakdown echoed in my head and caused my blood to boil. I hadn't gone back to school, and it was nearing the end of classes for the day. I couldn't afford to be skipping out on classes, especially if I intended to keep a scholarship deal with a college, but the anger that lived in my bloodstream would have made it impossible to focus.
My racing thoughts shouted cruel words at me. In some ways, they agreed with Bella. I knew it had to be the insecurities that I tried to bury under a layer of thick skin, but the words struck a chord no matter how large of a wall I built up.
After wandering around for a while, I finally made my way back to the school parking lot mindlessly and got into my car. The last place I wanted to be was at my house, so I chose my favorite place to be above everything else. As I parked my car near Billy's house, I pulled out a grinder and a pack of rolling papers. I slipped out of the driver's seat, and without a word to Jake or Billy, I made my way to the little lookout.
In hindsight, I should have known that someone would find me out there. Furthermore, I should have known that the person to find me would have been Paul. But for the moment, the calming song the wind sang and the picture perfect view of the restless ocean was good enough for me. "Penny for your thoughts, Swan?" Paul's soothing voice asks, breaking me out of my reverie.
"Just a long day," I offer after a long drag. "You want a hit?" I ask, gesturing to the lit blunt placed delicately between my fingers. Paul only chuckles before taking it, the simple feeling of his fingers touching mine sending warmth through me.
"Can I guess?"
"Be my guest," I scoff, continuing to stare at the beautiful sight in front of me.
"Your trouble magnet of a sister?"
"Bingo," I grunt, eagerly taking another drag as soon as the blunt is back in my hand. "She's such a fucking narcissist."
"I could have told you that within my first ten minutes of knowing her." I laughed at that.
"You sure it's not just because she was so heavily involved with the Cullens?" Paul shrugs in my peripheral vision, inching closer to me as the moments pass on.
"You wanna talk about it?" he asks, finally bringing my gaze onto him. It was a new kind of conversation between Paul and me, but it was incredibly refreshing to have. Before that morning after Paul had found me in the woods, the deepest the two of us had gone was talking about how she pissed me off. We had never discussed any form of specifics. Sure, this felt weird, but it felt by no means wrong. I felt at ease; I felt peaceful. Letting my guard down was easy with him. It was a comfortable moment, and I finally understood how Paul was my anchor. It wasn't just the thought of him that soothed me. He was here; he wanted me to talk about it and get it off my chest. He understood the burden that can with an unsatiable, angry monster living inside of my body, simply waiting to rear its head. He understood it because he had the same beast within him as well.
So, for the first time, and in the most cathartic way, I spilled my heart and soul to Paul Lahote without a moment's hesitation. His fingers fiddled with mine even after the weed was long gone, and when the breath left my lungs from talking too much, the two of us watched the light leave the sky in serene silence.
"You care too much, Swan," Paul muttered finally, making me crack a smile and giggle lightly.
"I'd like to think that I care just enough, thank you very much." Paul scoffed playfully above me, and I could visualize him rolling his eyes, even though mine were sealed shut.
"Whatever you say, beautiful," Paul muses in a teasing tone, making me blush a bright red. His arms wrapped around my body, finally pulling me flush against him. "So, you know how you told me that I was your, uh, anchor?"
"Yeah?" I hum, suddenly so at peace I didn't know if I'dd ever be able to leave.
"You're sorta, like, that for me too." I open one eye, tilting my head up to him and I hear that chuckle I had grown to adore so quickly.
"What do you mean?"
"Have you ever heard of an imprint?"
"Billy's mentioned it a few times, I think," I shrugged. "Though I can't say I know exactly what it is."
"For Quileute shifters, it's similar to that of a soulmate," Paul begins. "I don't wanna freak you out with that; it's why I didn't say anything the other week. I wanted you to get it all off your chest without having to worry about any of my shit for the time being." I frowned, pulling a little further from him so I could look at him better.
"Paul, you know that you don't have to shelter me, right? I don't want you to think that I believe all my baggage takes precedent. Whatever you're going through is just as important to me."
"I know," Paul smiles shyly. "I know. I don't think that. I just thought we should tackle one supernatural phenomenon at a time." I couldn't help but smirk at that.
"I see your point," I agree. "So what... You're my anchor, and I'm your imprint?"
"Yeah," Paul agrees.
"This shit just got so much more complicated than fuck buddies." This time, Paul's laugh isn't quiet. It fills the forest, and I could have sworn that the sun came back out to bask in the sound as well.
"You've got that right," Paul notes amusedly. "I don't know if I'd change it for a moment, though."
"I don't think I would either," I agree quietly, snuggling back into him as the creatures of the night begin to crawl out around us.
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Heyooooo.
I'm trying to catch up on updates, so I hope that these aren't wicked shitty
Yeah, she needed some happy Paul time, didn't she.
