Flowers for Lilah (Seth Clearwater)

final

I silently curse as my wet sneakers squeak against the linoleum floor of La Push's only supermarket, so much for incognito, I think wryly. I pull the hood of my black rain jacket down further over my face. In a town this small, the odds of running into someone I knew was strong. And the odds of running into someone my busybody Nana knew was inevitable.

I quickly found what I wanted in the back aisle of the store, before making my way to the bored looking middle aged woman manning the cashier's counter. I sent up a silent prayer in thanks that I didn't recognize the face of the woman, as I set my intended purchase down on the counter.

"How's it going?" She asks, then raises her eyebrows when she sees my purchase. "Just this?"

"Mhm," I blush, mortified. It seems like she is moving in super slow motion, my poor, frantic heart.

"You don't talk much, do you?" She comments, finally bagging the item and receipt, and I feel a sigh of relief as it's no longer in plain sight.

"No ma'am," I mutter, grabbing the bag off the counter and fleeing.

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I had woken up the day after my drama at Emily's house like I seemingly had been for the past week or so- with a startle out of a lunatic dream. It took me a second to realize that Seth carried me back to our bed at our cottage very late last night, and I wasn't tangled in my blue, silky sheets at my grandparents' house.

Seth was already gone at work before I woke, which was standard for him on a Monday morning. I knew he hadn't far ahead of me from the lingering steam on our bathroom mirrors. I had intended to open the shop early; I knew the weeds had grown to nearly unmanageable; I had my work cut out for me.

But I could barely bring myself out of bed. After my emotional breakdown the night before,

"Lilah?" The front door slams open and I hear it from where I am seated, on the floor of my bathroom. The hard tile was starting to hurt my tailbone, so I laid over on my side, my cheek against the cool surface.

"Babe? Open the door, please." Seth sounded breathless, and I'm sure he was. I hadn't texted him, but the panic attack in my chest was so strong; there was no way he didn't feel our imprint connection jolting in distress. I had no doubts he had left work and sprinted back here.

I didn't answer him, just took a long huff.

"Lah-lah?" Seth softens, his voice becoming more worried. He knocks on the door.

"Not now, Seth," I sigh, knowing he can hear me, as fresh tears wash over my face.

"Yes, now, Lil." He insists, adamant. "I can feel your hysteria. It hit me all the way at the office, are you hurt?"

"No," I sniff.

He relaxes slightly, but there's still an anxious edge in his voice, "Open the door baby, what can I do? I'll take the whole night off of patrol, I can call your Nana-"

"I look hideous," the realization starts a new wave of sobs. I saw myself in the reflection of the tile in our bathroom floor. My face was blotched red, my tear-brimmed eyes bloodshot, my lip quivering. I was a mess, with messy hair to complete it. I didn't even have pants on, wearing Seth's old T-shirt.

"You look beautiful," He shoots back automatically.

"You can't even see me!"

"You're my wife," He sounds exasperated, like he's trying to explain something simple for the tenth time to a petulant child. "There's not a world where you aren't the most beautiful creature."