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foxintheferns · 4 months

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WILD HEART

Chapter Two

A Twilight - Paul Lahote Fanfiction

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

***Short summary for my antsy gals: this absolute babe with childhood trauma, no real family and a passion for animals goes to live in the woods outside of La Push beach for her job that’s she’s deemed is necessary to find her way in life, and guess who’s not happy she’s there because now they have to worry about this human who’s put herself smack in the middle of bloodsucker city, where they have an instinctual obligation to protect her. And guess who’s even more angry that he suddenly feels an undying and relentless, fiery need to be with her all the time? Angst, tension, passion, anger, love, jealousy, perhaps even some betrayal? This story’s got it all babes (yes, even the smut) - it’s just one of those slow burn, then-suddenly-everything-is-fuckin-crazy-and-the-angst-is-unreal fics, you know? stay tuned ;)

A/N: eek! Chapta 2 bitchezzzzz! welcoming sir Jacob Black to the arena now. Yessssir let’s get this ball rollin I am PUMPED. Give your thoughts on what’s about to happen next, I’m curious 😏

CHAPTER TWO:

I woke in the morning with half of my body hanging off of the little couch, my left foot asleep from being tucked under my other leg for too long. I groaned with sleepiness, slowly and begrudgingly becoming more aware of my surroundings. Light filtered in through the blinds that I had shut tightly over every window in the small cabin. I reached to grab my phone off of the small wooden coffee table, checking the time, and was grateful that my body had me on a regular schedule. I tended to wake naturally around 6 o’clock every morning, unable to fall back into a restful sleep. It was far too dark in the house for the light to have woken me on its own. I stretched and moaned, my legs extending out and causing my feet to go past the end of the couch. I pulled myself up into a sitting position, and mentally prepared for my day ahead. I knew I would have to check out my surroundings today, and plan out the catalog of data I’d be collecting this month. I’d have to focus on one species at a time, and I figured the Marbled Murrelet was a good one to start with. I wanted to see more of La Push, and the endangered, ocean-dwelling bird was on the top of my list for data collection. I ultimately had to submit my findings at the end of each month, in hopes that the observations I gathered could help create ways to bring the species’ numbers back to Washington. I stood, stretching again and drooping down to touch my toes, my body felt so sore, and I was finally feeling the multiples hikes I’d endured last night in bringing my belongings from my car to the house. I ambled over to the kitchen, starting the coffee machine. I walked around the small house, opening every blind I had closed the night before. Sunlight began to fall into the space, a soft warm glow coming through the glass panes. I breathed deeply, feeling confident in my decision to spend the next 18 months here. I knew that my passion for wildlife was one reason that lead me here, but I also knew that my deep and profound need for change was another. I had been living in Maine, finishing my degree and living with my ex boyfriend, Zack. After two years of constant fights, cheating (on his part, never mine), and manipulation, I had finally broken away. I hadn’t realized the relationship had been drowning me slowly. Suffocating me, pulling me under. It brought me to a place where I hadn’t recognized myself in the mirror. At my core, I wasn’t the girl who allowed myself to be treated that way. So why had I done exactly that? When I saw the job listing online, my heart had skipped; I had felt something stirring in me that hadn’t been awake for quite some time. ‘Washington Avian Conservation Project - Wildlife Biologist needed!’ - the posting had read…

‘Chosen candidate to spend 18 months total at observational shelter on Olympic National Park Forest land, 15 minutes outside of La Push, WA. Job description includes data collection and behavioral assessment of wild endangered species, including the Northern Spotted Owl, Marbled Murrelet, and Tufted Puffin for the interest in providing usable information for conservational planning and management of population risks. Utilities/housing included for 18 month period and additional compensation provided’

The lease on the apartment my ex and I had shared was about to be up, and I had taken the leap, applying immediately. To my surprise, a response had come in the next day, asking if I could arrive the following month to begin my stay. The few friends I’d had (although I’d lost quite a few throughout the enduring of my ex boyfriend’s destructive behaviors that had lead to my isolation) supported me greatly in my plans, eager for me to find myself. I wondered, with dismay, if they had seen hope in my eyes for the first time in years, and truly just wanted to me go anywhere that it would grow instead of simply continue to flicker and die out.

My best friend, Naomi, had thrown her arms around me, tears streaming down her soft cheeks. “Oh, Harley! Oh, babe, this is SO exactly what you need! Just get the hell out of here, find you again! God, I’m gonna miss the hell out of you, but…Har- this is it!”, she had cried, her theatrically passionate displays a very normal and truly beautiful part of our friendship that I found myself missing deeply now, being across the country from her. Her bright red hair had been sticking to her tear soaked, freckled face in stringy wet clumps, which I had peeled softly from her cheek with a laugh. I had been crying, too, with Naomi being the first person I told, and the only person whose opinion truly mattered, of my endeavor. And it was true: this was it. This was the shake-me-by-my-shoulders-and-scream-in-my-face to-wake-up blessing I’d been waiting for the universe to throw at me. I needed to remember who I was. What I loved, what I hated, what made me laugh, what made me cry. I had lost my mother 3 years ago now, never really getting to say goodbye to her after she spent her years succumbing to my father’s verbal abuse, never admitting she wasn’t ever truly happy, and never taking her own health seriously enough. Up until the moment she had passed from a heart attack at the age of 59, she had cared more for others than herself. Even her shitty husband. I had disowned my father, never bothering to look at the man again after seeing the way he had broken my mother without regret or acknowledgment. He had spent my childhood being absent, a drunk, and only ever pretending to care about his family for show. He hadn’t tried to contact me after I became estranged, only bothering to tell our relatives what a disappointment he thought I’d turned out to be whenever they saw him at holidays in the years following.

My ex Zack had thrown a fit at my sudden decision to leave. He had called me crazy and selfish, and thrown my large hiking backpack into the dumpster behind our apartment complex, seeming to try to sabotage my plans and somehow prove to me that I was incapable of them. I had pulled my pack from the trash pile, grateful he hadn’t ripped it apart or damaged it, and cleared my belongings from the apartment that night, staying with Naomi at her house in Portland up until the very day I had to leave.

I grunted as I pulled my brown leather boots up, wiggling my toes once they were on. I shook my head back and forth quickly, trying to clear my mind of the memories I’d quite intentionally left in Maine. My long, dark blonde hair fell and jumped in waves around my head as I shook it with vigor, and I felt a surge of angry tears start to prick in my eyes. I felt alone suddenly, and the feeling made me mad at myself. I had known this would be hard. I knew I would feel lonely and sad. But more, I knew my love for nature and its beauty was the one thing that could call me back to who I was.

You’re here to live. You’re here to live for you, for the first time in your life - I told myself, breathing deeply and pulling my small pack that contained my data collection journal and my binoculars onto my back- It’s not going to be easy. But we’re doing it.

……………………………………………………………………………………

I spent the next few hours, and then the next several days falling into my routine. I woke up, ate breakfast, put my clothes and boots on, ventured out into the forest, and watched the birds of the Olympic Peninsula. I watched them flying, I watched them singing and talking amongst themselves. I watched their eating habits, their patterns and their routines, as I settled into mine. I found more peace in watching them simply exist than I could’ve ever thought possible. I began to recognize the same birds after several days, hearing their calls and watching their movements. When the sun would fall behind the trees and the star filled night would arrive, I continued to close the blinds and lock the door of the lookout cabin tightly, never forgetting the reality that I was a twenty something woman in the woods by herself. I tried to brush off the odd feeling I had that I wasn’t at all alone in the forest, reminding myself that I was simply hyper aware of the many species I shared the woods with.

On day six, I made my way down to La Push’s first beach, and wondered immediately why it had taken me so long to come. I was beginning to feel quite socially isolated, and knew that talking to myself as much as I had been was probably a sign to spend my time around some humans as soon as possible. Although cloudy, and far from warm, the beach was a breathtaking place. Several tourists and visitors walked or sat along the sand, some exploring the tidal pools closer to the trees while others stooped to take photographs of the large rock formations in the water on the horizon. I decided a break was needed, and suddenly felt a surge of anticipation at the conquest of speaking to a person. Five days alone had passed quickly, and I hadn’t been truly mentally present after trying to avoid the negative feelings of accepting my own presence. It was hard to be alone with the woman in my mind after not really trying to know her for so long. I didn’t recognize her, but I was beginning to familiarize myself again. And, to be quite honest, I was beginning to like her.

I decided a visit to a local restaurant would be the best idea, and walked down the main dirt road along the beach that cut through a small corner of the residential parts of the reservation. I had been studying the local maps, and knew that much of the land I was studying on, including the land that held my lookout shelter, belonged to the Quileute Reservation. Billy Black’s face flashed through my mind, and I wondered if he’d truly meant what he said when he politely offered his name and where to find him if I ever needed help. What would make him think I’d need help? I wondered scrutinizingly. I shook my head to myself as I trekked down the dirt road, my map showing me only about a half mile more before the small reservation restaurant would be on my left.

Once I arrived outside the adorably cozy cedar-shake sided building, I noticed a group of four very tall younger men standing in the dirt parking lot. They were all tanned and ridiculously well muscled, and I found it a bit of a struggle to keep my eyes off of them as I had to walk past them to enter the restaurant. One of them was completely shirtless. I quickly darted my gaze back to the ground when one turned in my direction at the sound of my footsteps. They were in conversation, their deep and muffled voices humming as they spoke. After the one man turned in my direction, all four of their voices went quiet, and I felt heat rush to my face. Did I look weird? Lost? Dirty? Having spent almost the past week studying birds in the forest, I wasn’t sure I looked too hot. But you showered, I reminded myself soothingly.

It’s probably not even about you, stop being so egocentric! my inner voice resounded.

It was most definitely either about me, or the men had coincidentally run out of things to talk about just as I had arrived. Their conversation remained halted as I kept my gaze on the front door of the restaurant, slipping inside quietly.

Inside the restaurant, only a few guests sat and dined, and I felt calmed by the fact that none of them seemed to glance my way or care about my presence. “Hey sweetie, just you?,” a soft feminine voice broke through my inner dialogue, and I turned my attention towards the sound. An older, brown eyed woman stared at me with a gentle expression upon her face. She had jet black hair that fell to her midsection and was adorned with two thick braids on either side of her face. Her smile was kind, and her eyes seemed to soften slightly when she took in whatever she saw in my expression. Her gaze darted to my backpack, then to the paper map I clutched in my right hand.

I nodded politely, returning the smile. “Just me,” I replied, trying to ignore the repetitive nature of the few words I’d spoken to other living souls in the past week. She nodded back and gestured for me to follow her, guiding me to a booth in the corner along the front window of the restaurant. “This spot good? Nice light over here, I think.” I nodded and hummed gratefully in response, not quite knowing how to speak to another person in that exact moment, and slipped down onto the vinyl cushioned seat. I glanced quickly out the window, watching as the group of four men were now walking away from the restaurant in large strides, and felt the hair on my arm raise and bristle when I saw one of them shoot a brief look back to the restaurant. His face was striking - and familiar. I held back a gasp when I realized it was the face of the boy whom I’d seen with my new acquaintance, Billy Black, at the grocery store on my first day in town. He turned back again and kept walking with the other men, seemingly disappearing into the tree-line behind the dirt road.

……………………………………………………………………………………

Sue was my kind waitress, and in the 2 hours I spent at La Push’s tiny restaurant, she became my first new friend in Washington. Her gentle demeanor was undeniably motherly; it soothed me more than I thought possible. I hadn’t known how much I needed to be nurtured after the overwhelming change of the last week. She must have been able to sense the ache I felt within me for company and a listening ear. Sue sat with me at the small booth while I ate my warm chowder, grabbing a bowl for herself from the kitchen and shooting the man behind the back counter a look when he seemed ready to protest. Sue was immediately interested in why I was traveling alone, and felt compelled to tell me of her daughter and son, who she gushed were right around my age and lived on the reservation with her. We laughed and chatted as Sue welcomingly accepted my droning on and on about how much I love my new occupation. She seemed to have no trouble understanding my passion for watching the birds, and nodding knowingly and with interest when I delved into ridiculously mundane (to anyone who wasn’t me - or a wildlife biologist) details of their subtle quirks and personality differences. She even belly laughed, shaking her head in honest disbelief as I told her of the one Tufted Puffin I had deemed to be ‘Frank’, as he tended to stumble around with the singular and all consuming goal of finding a female companion, and it had reminded me of a perpetually drunk friend of my father’s who often displayed similar desperate intentions.

After a free slice of chocolate cake on Sue’s request from the kitchen, and a plea for me to come back soon, I found myself bidding Sue a good evening, wanting to return on my hike back to the house before the sun set entirely. Sue tucked a few chocolate chip cookies into my backpack before I left, winking and shooting me a grin.

The walk back to my humble cabin felt significantly longer and farther than my initial trip to town, and I found myself feeling more anxious than I expected when the second half of my trip was blanketed in pitch darkness. My large flashlight illuminated the minimally marked trail ahead of me, although I knew I could find the way back to the cabin quite easily from memory at this point. I couldn’t decide what was bothering me so deeply. I had been in the forest after nightfall before, many times. This wasn’t new to me, and yet I found the hair on the back of my neck refused to relax. The muscles in my legs and back were tense, as if my body felt an underlying sense that I would need to break into a sprint at any given moment. It wasn’t until I heard the clear and obvious crunching of branches and vegetation underfoot that I validated the odd gut feeling I was experiencing. The sound was loud enough that I knew within seconds that it did not belong to something as small as a squirrel. I froze immediately on the dirt path, knowing I was way too far from the beach to try to run back to it now, and not close enough yet to the cabin to make it there before the likely creature could catch me. The sound seemed to be coming closer, although it was hard to tell just how far away it was.

Fuck. I thought to myself. Cougars, Grizzly Bears, there were far too many possibilities for this animal to be one of immense danger for me to remain calm. I did the one thing I knew to do, and quickly reached behind me with my unoccupied hand to unclip the bear spray that hung from the right side of my backpack. Flashlight in one fist, bear spray in the other, I stood motionless in the center of the path, unable to hear much now over the sound of my heart beating like a drum in my ears. The crunching continued, and I shone my light across the trees quickly, trying to direct it to where the sound had come from, but not quite knowing which direction it had been. The light found nothing, and I then remembered what I had been taught in my wildlife training classes. “Hey, bear! H-hey bear!,” I yelled with as much force and strength as I could muster, my eyes searching the black around me wildly for any hint of motion, or the outline of a giant bear, perhaps. My voice came out broken and shaky, and I felt the urge to scream in terror rising like a lump in my throat. At my voice, the sound ceased entirely, and I had no idea where to point my flashlight. Silence fell across the forest around me. My body was tingling with fear, all of my nerves activated and engaged.

“Well, I’m not a bear, but if I was - don’t know that those sounds would do the trick.”

The deep, rough, and seemingly amused voice came from somewhere in the dark abyss to my right, and I spun on my heel, gasping harshly and dropping my flashlight in the choppy motion. “Shit!” The word came from my throat in a strained whisper that sounded similar to a whimper. I dove quickly to grab the heavy flashlight again, and flung the light toward the voice.

My mouth fell open as my light touched upon the man. His massively tall frame was made to look bigger still by the shadows that the flashlight casted across the trees around him. It took me no less than two seconds to recognize him. The same man from the grocery store, and from outside the restaurant. The one with Billy Black. His face was defined, dark and playful eyes surrounded by the facial structure of what could only be compared to a statuesque god. A prominent set of dark brows sat above his eyes, and they came together now, straining as he threw a hand up in front of his face. “Jesus, wha-, fuck, can you shine that down?!” His voice came again, somehow alarming me more after I had observed him for the seemingly endless moment. It seemed my mind had forgotten he was a real person, only taking in his features as if I were watching from an outsider’s perspective. After a brief hesitation, I sputtered and directed the beam of the flashlight to settle at his legs, where I could still make out his face easily. I was unsure how, but his facial features put me at ease in the same way the stranger Billy Black’s had, despite the fact that there was absolutely nothing calming about this situation. I was unsure where to begin.

“H-…wha-who-,” I stammered, then took a breath and began again, “Why are you following me?” My voice didn’t have a single ounce of the stone cold confidence I’d tried to instill in it. I swallowed hard as I realized my bear spray was the one thing I had to defend myself, and my grip on the can tightened slightly.

The young man’s expression didn’t waver. In fact, the only change in his face was the small lifting of one corner of his mouth into the beginning of a smile. I felt a wave of terror wash through me as I imagined the horrific fate I could be in for if this man had the intentions my inner voice was screaming at me to be wary of. Despite my accusation, his gaze softened then, and it almost looked like he was about to laugh. He exhaled from his nose in a short and sharp breath, the sound resembling the start of a chuckle but ending quickly as his raised his brows and found my fear stricken face in the darkness. He leaned forward slightly, cocking his head to the side. His voice was low and velvety, and caused goosebumps to raise across my arms once again.

“Following you? You’re on my land, sweetheart.”

➡️CLICK FOR NEXT CHAPTER

A/N: Chapter 3 coming soon! Thank you guys for stickin with it thru to this point if you’ve read this far :-) I’m so excited for the plot to thicken 🤪 let me know if you want to be tagged in the next chapter’s upload!

-Ro

#fanfiction #fanfic #twilight #paullahote #Jacob black #Paul Lahote #imagines #fic #twilightfanfic #twilight fanfiction #romance #werewolf fanfic #werewolf #werewolves #edward cullen

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