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come-on-darling-honey · 1 year

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The Beaten Path, [Paul Lahote x reader.]

Walking through the woods to meet your ex-best friend Paul should've been an easy task but a red eyed creature changed that. Then a silver wolf changed it even further.

word count- 6k [my longest fic ever !!! [fem! reader, no biological factors mentioned] [reader is Quills cousin but no race is mentioned, in order to be accessible to all readers!]

warnings- mentions of ed!bles, nothing explicit.

I couldn’t see three feet ahead of me. The usual light touches of the leaves grazed and screamed at my skin, my face, my legs, my arms. I couldn’t stop, just keep climbing, keep going. The trees were thick and steady, the rough bark under my feet felt as if I could never fall. My fingertips gripped onto the rough bark; a blistering pain followed every movement up. I ran until I couldn’t breathe anymore, seeking solace in the high ground of the tree as a vantage point upon the misery I’d ran from. Climbing into the vivid greenery I couldn’t breathe, my lungs felt strained as each breath left rapidly. My feet and hands moved quicker than I could think, the only thought in my mind was run. Run from the creature that grabbed me. The foreign beast that didn’t belong on the hiking trails I grew up on. Even climbing now, I could see it. The creature’s skin was uncomfortably pale and freezing cold, like rocks. Empty red eyes, that were dull flames staring at me.

That creature belonged in the urban walls. Among the garbage of modernity. Not the beaten path. Locals referred to it as ‘the bush’, warning tourists visiting First beach to ‘stay away from the Bush, there’s creatures in there that would make a beast cry.’ The creature was of no doubt agile but held no comfort in the ground, its feet kept slipping as they never mastered the placement on the dry dirt floor. They tried grabbing onto a branch, snapping it by accident. Its red eyes screamed their discomfort. But most locals in Forks and La Push learnt how to walk the path. The dirt path and how to climb along the rough trees. Even on this unusually hot day where the dirt hardened, it was home.

I’d reached the west clearing when the creature found me. It was fast. Too fast. But it was frozen. For two seconds. Two glorious seconds where I managed to run to the treeline, skidding down the paths I’ve known since childhood. Climbing the tallest tree to see where it was. Turning around I wish I never had, the creature and its pale body had been ripped apart by a beast. Snarls and a viscous thrill filled the air, the swell of the trees forgotten now. The beast was a large… silver wolf. A glorious wolf. I’d seen wolves in the bush before but none that big. It was unnaturally big. Bears couldn’t even compare to its size; the sleek silver coat was so thick I expected it to sling it off to reveal a beast of a man. Two other wolves appeared helping the silver wolf, a black one and a brown one. My hiking boots felt too heavy on my feet, suddenly I felt this inhuman urge to pray. But I couldn’t move, think or pray. My movements were singular. Every slight change in my body a fault of my rushing mind. It was odd, I felt no fear as I watched the strange wolves tear the creature apart. Was it because I knew they wouldn’t be able to reach me this far up the trees or the deluded voice whispering in the back of my head that they saved me. That the creature that looked so human, it was inhuman was the desired target and they had let me run away. I wanted to give the wolves my onliness so they would protect me, love the dirt before me. But I don’t know why, and I could never explain it, but I felt as if they knew. They saw and bled with me. Or they were too busy tearing apart the creature. The guttural snarls sounded suffocated with marble or rock, every bite I could hear sounded more like a crack than a tear. It was haunting. The wildflowers of the clearing swayed in the wind, getting crushed by the fight.

There was a thick gust of wind swirling around me, my body felt as if the wind flew straight through. I could smell the sweet fragrance of the leaves that surrounded my body, shielding me. I emersed myself within the evergreen. Rough bark grazed my fingertips as I gripped onto the tree as a lifeline, my fingers still sore from my frantic climbing. My feet were warm and steady, the hiking boots, while too heavy and confining also helped me. I was alert. The trees whispered, well the barks, growls and screams were louder, but I couldn’t focus on them. The air was wet. It’d rained in the night, but the hot summer sun had dried most of the dampness, yet it lingered. It was weird that I couldn’t hear anymore, only a constant ringing pouncing through my ears. There was a lump in my pocket, remembering the edible stashed in there I was glad I decided to take it after I met up with Paul, glad my drug induced self wasn’t wandering the bush about to run into the creature. My reasoning being I’d need the small edible after to deal with whatever he was going to say and to manage the emptiness I’d been feeling since I had last seen him.

It had been hours since the attack. The wolves had left, burying the creature’s body in the dirt. But I couldn’t leave, I could barely move or think. What if there were others? Of course, my family would start to worry, so would Paul. I’d promised to meet Paul on the north clearing, not west but I’d been side-tracked, so he’d no doubt start to look for me. He’d always look for me. Even though I was angry at him, he’d find me and help me get rid of this dull pain in my head. I was no longer perched in the tree rather sitting on the thickest, highest branch. The sun had started to set when I felt myself drifting asleep, thankful that I’d been able to rest on the branch without threat of falling.

I felt a burning in my throat before I felt the cold. Wearing short cargo shorts and a thin t-shirt was a smart idea through the burning sun of the daytime as I hiked but it was now the biggest mistake I could’ve made. Carefully finding my footing, I climbed down the tree. Shivering, I wanted to vomit. Fear kept itself harboured in my throat. As I reached the ground my head spun, looking for red eyed creatures. Was it even real? Had I fallen and gotten the concussion instead of being thrown? But then how, in my concussed state, did I manage to climb the largest tree if it wasn’t for adrenaline? What I found was safer yet in my moment of haze from lack of adrenaline and possible concussion I was terrified. That silver wolf was there, at the bottom of the tree. How hadn’t I seen it? It was so large I must’ve been blind. But even if this wolf saved me, I was too close to it. Unforgivably close to an animal that could rip me in half with one movement. The ringing had subsided, I could barely hear the deep breaths as the wolf slept. Its paws spread to the empty sky, waiting for a sun kiss.

Moving as slow and steady as I could, the wolf awoke. Watching me with a soft kindness I’d never seen before. No one could ever explain to me why the hell I felt like I’d seen those eyes a hundred times before. Why I felt safe. I had begun to place some distance between us as I reached the end of the clearing, up north, Would I even be able to see the path? I stepped onto three stones, following the path over the deep lake, my head swirling and my eyes gathered a black haze. I couldn’t see. Even in the moonlit darkness, I couldn’t see anything.

I heard my name being shouted.

I kept walking.

After the fourth yell I realised who it was, Paul. His voice was dry and scratchy, but it was him, there was no one else it could be.

I turned quicker than I had moved in hours. Paul stood there wearing… almost nothing? He’d yelled my name again but my head was spinning. I needed to yell to him to be fucking quiet. That there is a massive wolf behind him and he could get killed if he didn’t shut up. But I couldn’t. Something wet hit my knees, I’d fallen into the edge of the lake. Blood flew from my knees onto the bedrock. My hands in the water up to my mid-arm. Everything was so blurry. All I could see was a shimmer from the moon onto the water. Then I felt him, hands coming onto my waist, pulling me up. I couldn’t speak. I just wanted sleep. Something to give me energy again.

I don’t know how I got here. In a large warm bed. Warm orange blankets encased my body, wooden walls holding me with a soft fondness. I could hear shushed talking now. I was at Emily’s. Her cabin was so warm. Looking down I could see my hiking boots strewn across the wooden floor, my shorts and shirt on a pile on top of the old red rug. Immediately I looked down to see old pyjamas I’d left here on my body, praying it was Emily who’d changed me. Coffee danced through the air; I couldn’t help but picture the familiar kitchen. Wooden furniture that had be loved and worn by the people I held dearest, the yellow and orange rug that Emily had made with her aunt, and Paul sitting at the table. His long hair framing his beautiful tan face. The dim, homely lighting of the kitchen would encase him, and he’d seem alive.

This was the first time in weeks I was going to see him, well technically the second time in weeks. I’d bumped into him as I was leaving Emily’s, he’d stared at me in shock. I was angry but I held no grudge. I held a grudge for weeks; bile rose in my throat when I thought of him. When our friends angrily spat his name. We’d be in school and see him, angry rants and swears flooded the air at his lack of loyalty and cruelness. I couldn’t stop thinking about him though, Emily had told me I should just give in and see him. She’d been very persistent. Despite always helping me leave before Paul would arrive with Jared and Sam. I owed her, I guess.

“You’re awake!” A sweet voice said as the door opened, pulling me out of my wandering thoughts. Two long dark braids framed her beautiful face. She wore a green t-shirt and pyjama bottoms, holding a glass of water. Emily came over to me and started fussing over my head and that I should slowly drink some water, but also lay back and not push my body too far.

“how’d I get here?” I pushed out of my throat, it felt grainy, like someone had put a filter into my throat.

“Paul found you, sweetie.” She said, redoing the braid down my back. Her thin fingers moving to my shoulders lightly massaging them.

“You’re knees and hands are kinda cut up” a familiar voice said from the doorway, I hadn’t seen Paul and Sam standing there. They must’ve been there the whole time. He was worn down, under eye bags dark and large. I’d only met Sam a handful of times; he’d looked at me in such an odd way. Waiting for something, but now he looked oddly satisfied. I never thought I’d be wishing for the odd discomfort again. Sam was larger than Paul, but Paul normally at least, was quicker. He’d slide in before anyone else, in school, in gym and when we played as kids. Even on hikes he’d always reach the goal first.

Sam called my name, pulling my attention away from Paul, who looked incredibly dishevelled and stressed.

“When you’re fully rested, we have something to tell you but for now you need to eat and rest.” As if Sam rung a bell in Emily’s head, she got up swiftly and went pass the two men, probably to the kitchen. Sam followed her, laughing lightly at her.

Still standing in the doorway, Paul stared at the floor. He looked so tired, I signalled for his attention then to the bed beside me. He didn’t lay next to me like he normally did rather he sat on the edge. Somehow that hurt more than anything else. He tucked some fly aways form my braid behind my ear smiling weakly. Then pulled his hands into his lap.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, looking down. Tears filled his eyes. I realised now he was wearing a t-shirt; one I’d bought him. I’d wanted to buy him hiking boots, so he’d stop wearing that grim pair of vans he’d gotten when we were fifteen, but his feet kept growing and I only saw the point in buying him a stretchy shirt, three sizes too big. It was snug on him now, but it didn’t look like he could physically grow anymore.

“I don’t understand” before he could answer I continued, “why are you sorry?” the tears fell, I grabbed his hand pushing every muscle in my body to move closer to him.

“I should’ve helped you.”

What was he saying? He had nothing to do with the creature. It felt like my legs and arms burned as I remembered the creature being torn limb by limb. The great silver wolf that fell asleep at the foot of my tree, keeping me safe. How I didn’t run, maybe it was the concussion making me delirious or it was intuition.

“The wolf didn’t hurt me!” I almost shouted, getting defensive over it. There’s no way he could’ve thought that is what hurt me. He looked shocked. His mouth hung open softly, shock clearly sitting in his eyes. “There was this-” How on earth could explain this without sounding insane “this creature and it threw me…” trailing off I realised how mad I must sound but something in his expression made me carry on “… and the wolf, the silver one, saved me. I climbed up a tree and the wolf stayed there! Like- like it was guarding me” I was desperate at this point, begging that he’d understand. Or at least he’d think I’d hit my head harder than Emily originally thought. My throat scratched; I shouldn’t have yelled.

But he laughed. Grabbed me into a bear hug and laughed. He was still crying; he was crying harder than before. But he laughed.

“Did the wolf seem… familiar?” He asked, I would’ve taken this as a joke, but he was watching me with a constant sincerity, almost begging me for the truth. “Because it was and I know this is insane but you have to believe me.” He added, desperate.

“I believe you.” God, I wished I didn’t because I also wasn’t completely following what he was saying but I’d believe him.

The next twenty minutes were a haze of confusion, disbelief and hunger.

I knew the tribal history; my grandparents told me and my cousin Quill all of them. Quill’s tall friend, who I couldn’t remember the name of, had been calling Paul and his friends the hall monitors on steroids, I’d laughed at the time when Quill told me. Mostly because Quill kept quizzing me on Paul and if I knew anything, he looked like an angry squirrel being swallowed by his grey sweatshirt. I knew about certain men of the tribe who were in the three bloodlines and that they would protect us. As wolves, since that was their soul, but they were stories. Stories made by the Elders or even the elders, elders to keep the tribe’s history alive and interesting… and Paul was telling me it was all true.

That the reason he’d left my garden almost shaking in anger was because his body was throwing him into his first phase. That he’d been in incomparable pain. That I’d hated him and cursed him for weeks for leaving me, that he didn’t want to. Sam had given him an order and he’d no choice but to submit. I couldn’t be angry at Sam, no, it was for the safety of the community, for my safety and my cousins.

His hand traced down my back, beside my braid. It was a perfect sensation. A hundred tiny graces upon me. It hadn’t felt like this before when he touched me. It was as exciting and as explosive before. Now it was as if his hand had always been there.

“What are you thinking?” his voice was low, sweet and fanned by his breath next to my ear. We were so close. He’d moved closer to me after he’d explained the big thing. I thought him turning into a wolf would be the biggest news but then he told me about… imprinting. That he’d imprinted on me. That he couldn’t stop thinking about me, since we were kids. That all the imprint bond had done is prove his feelings.

“I’m not too sure.” Before he moved his hand away, I grabbed it, “I’ve always liked you, but I don’t know, you turn into a wolf, Paul. A wolf, it’s just… it’s a lot.”

“I understand.”

“But I do like you,” I noticed a small bird sitting in the tree outside the window. A black-capped chickadee, small and fragile but with an attitude larger than the moon, they’d always commute to the bird feeder in my grandma’s lush garden. ‘they’re a sign of content, dear’ I remember my grandmother telling me as I grew. I have contentment with Paul, he is adventure and roughness yet a peaceful whirl of wind. The hot sun on my back and the smiling grace of a clumsy fawn in spring. Sometimes my grandma would say that they can see the future, when I was a kid, the concept enamoured me. I’d practically ran to school the next day, sitting down in English class I turned around to face Paul and told him that those tiny, sweet birds can see the future. He’d laughed and told me they couldn’t but we both spoke about it for hours after school.

I heard his laugh and could already see his smile.

“Do you remember when we were kids, old Billy Black told us about the ancestors for the first time and we ran off to play in the ocean.” He moved closer to me, thighs touching.

“I remember my Nana and your grandfather laughing at us when a wave knocked us to shore.” I laughed with him, the pain from before now a dull ache. “And quill chasing us back into the sea.”

Quill. Does he know? It could happen to him. Has it already happened to him? He’s of the three bloodlines, we’re of the Ateara bloodline, it could happen. My tiny baby cousin could be subjected to revolting pain and his body reshaping, throwing him violently into this world. If it was anything like Paul had described, it to be he was about to be in an indescribable amount of pain.

“Will it happen to Quill?” I stopped laughing. All happiness had been scraped out of me. Barren would be the word to describe it.

“Sam thinks so, so does your grandfather,” my head pounded. My body shifted before my mind could. Of course, he knew but why would he know? How could my own granddad not tell me. Not let Quill and I into the world we both might’ve been subjected towards. “Your grandparents wanted to tell you both everything but they… feared it would trigger Quill to phase.” He added on, his hand reaching mine. It’s like he wasn’t even aware that he was doing it, like it was as simple and as common as breathing. When his hand gripped mine, I knew he was right, that it was all real.

“Do they know about the imprint?” I asked, he looked away from me.

“Yes, I wanted to tell you first, but you wouldn’t see me, and I couldn’t keep going.” He stopped, breathing heavily “Sam told them, they were worried about you and the impact the bond was having.”

“What do you mean?” Was this the cause of my headaches and insomnia? I’d been using some medication to sleep and it just led to some intensely horrific nightmares. Had Paul felt this? Had he felt worse? He certainly looked worse. Paul affirmed my thoughts, but it seemed he got the worst of it. He was in physical and mental pain at the thought of me hating him. His right hand lightly traced circles on my thighs. We spoke for hours till Emily came in and called us for food. I adjusted to being with Paul again quicker than breathing. He was glued to me. His warm body centred me, we laughed and joked with Emily, Sam and Jared. They spoke about Embry Call, one of Quills friends, how he was showing signs of changing. He was the tall friend I remembered, he was so sweet and shy. I couldn’t stomach the idea of that boy going through the pain the men around the dinner table went through. But he wouldn’t be alone. I guess that was something. God Quill was going to kill me if he finds out I know. At least I can call my grandma and talk to her about it.

“Oh um, I think I should get going,” I said standing up. I’d just noticed how dark it was outside it couldn’t be earlier than 1am, and as someone who lived with her Grandparents, 1am was not an ideal time to get home.

“I’ll drive you.” Paul said, his voice whirled around me, encapsulating me and holding me. The air was freezing as it hit our faces, walking to Pauls truck I laughed when he ran ahead of me to open my door. Everything felt so easy again. Paul lived five minutes away from me, we used to carpool to school every day. Stopping at the Sonic to get coffee and food. Singing off-key to whatever cassette we could find. We’d go and hike in the Olympic national park on the weekends, spend the whole day together and then the whole night. It didn’t feel like we’d spent an hour apart, let alone weeks. The ride was short and clam, the streetlights illuminated the road pathed by trees. There was an almost hidden path that was a sharp left to get to my house.

“I know it’s late….” I trailed off as we arrived at the front of the big house. “But is there any chance you could stay the night?” as we got out I noticed not only the porch light was on but so was the light to the kitchen. Someone was awake, and it wasn’t my grandparents who go to sleep at 10pm every night. “Who is that?” I asked, drawing Paul’s attention away from my face, how long had he been looking at my face? My knees ached, a throbbing pain from where I fell over in the bush. Paul walked towards the front door, opening it quietly. His shoulders were tense and I couldn’t see his face but I doubted it’d be very friendly to any intruders. The door creaked open, I closed it behind me. We took our shoes off, socked feet hitting the wooden floor. My home always smelt like incense, my grandma burned it everyday before she went to sleep, a habit I’d picked up from her.

“Quill! What the fuck!” I whisper shouted seeing Quill’s stocky figure eating cereal. He looked at Paul with a shit-eating smile on his face. “It’s 1am what are you doing here?”

“Gran called me cause you” he emphasised, pointing at me, “Didn’t come home!”

“Well, I’m home so thanks but go sleep in the guest room.” I tried to push him away, but he stayed put, staring at Paul. I knew the two almost got into a fight the other day if Sam hadn’t stepped in so my hope for a sweet loving interaction was so far away it was learning to read a map to go further away from the two men in my kitchen. “Please don’t you two.” I sighed, grabbing bread and butter.

“Why is he here?” Quill asked, cereal in his mouth and eyes piercing at Paul.

“Your cousin, who lives here, invited me in.” Paul’s voice was solid, but his tightened jaw showed how thin his patience was.

“You shouldn’t take in strays, especially ones who leave you alone for weeks.” Quill said practically spitting at Paul.

“You know nothing about this.” Paul shoved his finger into Quills chest. Of course, Quill knew exactly what button to push. I sat down on the counter, eating toast and pushing my socked foot between the pair to keep them apart.

“Guys, 1am, people are sleeping. Don’t.” my voice was cool; I knew neither of them would do anything but my head still hurt so I didn’t want to entertain them. Then I felt a cool hand grab my leg.

“What the fuck did he do to you.” Quill seethed. Staring at the dried blood on my legs.

“I fell Quill, stop being protective. I’m an adult, I can handle myself.” He didn’t look like he was going to take this well, always keen to having an overdramatic imagination. His grip tightened on my leg. “Seriously Quill, drop it.” My voice was deeper now. I didn’t want this to be a spectacle. Paul was staring at him, almost daring him to say what he was thinking. To give him a reason.

“He wouldn’t hurt her, darling. Let go of her leg.” We all turned to see my grandma in the doorway, her hair out of its usual braid, cascading to her hips. She knew about Paul, about the imprint bond. Of course, she knew but this wasn’t going to make it easier to explain to Quill.

“You woke up Gran well done idiot.” I whispered kicking Quill lightly. She made her way over to us, checking over the scrapes on me. She scolded us for being loud and then Paul and I for staying out so late. That despite us being adults I live her roof and should always listen to her. which i knew of course.

“You should’ve called little bird,” she muttered putting her hand to my cheek, she was cold compared to Paul who had grabbed my hand at some point. “Quill go to bed sweetheart.” Quill was about to protest but the glare he was given shut him up and he sulked off to the guest room down the hall but not before looking at me. I felt a swell of guilt raise within me. He looked so hurt. Liked I’d listened to the pain the sound of drums caused him and then proceeded to dance to the thumping beat. My hand tightened around Pauls. I looked down, my cheeks were hot in shame.

“He’ll understand one day.” Gran said, cleaning the scrapes, I felt a sting as the alcohol wipe hit my skin.

“I don’t want him to, he’s only 16 Gran. At least Paul had graduated high school when it happened to him.” I said my eyes following her actions as she teetered around the kitchen.

She and Paul soothed me, it got to the point where it sounded as if they were soothing themselves. Knowing one day Quill would understand if the Cullen’s didn’t leave soon.

Paul slept in my room that night and for every following night for the next two months until one night we made the decision to sleep at Pauls house. We weren’t expecting his dad to rush in at 3am, however.

He called our names. “It’s Quill.” He was holding the phone, pulling it from the kitchen through the one-story house. Despite being dreary and sleepy Paul and I immediately pulled ourselves apart grabbing clothes and shoes as quick as we could. Quill had a fever all week, he was sweaty and vomiting alot. I had wished it was just a sickness that he'd gotten from a friend, but I should've known better.

“Where is he?” I asked as Paul jogged to his truck, turning on the ignition.

“He was at your grandmas but he ran into the woods.” He said, leaving the house with us “Paul you should go find him, I’ll drive.”

“I think I’d be the last person he’d wanna see.” Paul said getting into the truck. I got in too, Pauls dad asked one more time if his son was sure, “I am dad, go back inside before the boys wake up.” His brothers were young and had school in the morning. I’m sure even though they have no idea what is happening they’d love to use it as an excuse to bunk school. The drive was quick and a complete blur.

Arriving at my house I saw my grandmother crying into my grandfathers’ arms. Her long hair melted into his, they fell into this whirl of grief together. There was something oddly haunting about that and yet beautiful. I’d found out recently it was my grandmother’s father who had been a shifter like Billy Blacks Grandfather. The pain was recognised by her, she knew it. She’d breathed it, I wonder if she ever could’ve imagined this would’ve all happened again. All this pain and anger. The lights in the house were all on, it was freezing, the wind was sharp.

“He screamed when he shifted.” A slight voice said interrupting my thoughts as Paul and I got out of his truck, his arms weaving around me. It was Emily, she wore her soft pink pyjamas and Sam’s denim jacket drowned her frame. She looked just as tired as I felt.

“Where’s Sam?” Paul asked, it sounded broken, like there was bile raising in his throat. I knew he didn’t really want to see Sam, to be told to do something he deeply doesn’t want to do. But he respected Sam, loved him like a brother. He’d kill for him like a brother. He told me one night in hushed voices as our limbs entangled how he wished he’d known Sam and Jared before all of this, how it felt like he had been known by them so well he had finally felt seen.

“He’s looking for Quill, he said to tell you to stay with the family.” His chest exhaled heavily. His arm tightening around me. When I looked up at him I hadn’t even noticed the fear in his eyes till Emily walked away and he looked back at me.

“He’ll be okay. Scared but okay,” He whispered guiding me over to the little cluster of love that had formed for Quill. Everyone was whispering. We couldn’t speak any louder in case he heard us, frightened and confused. One wrong word had every persons throats suspended in the cold air of a Sunday night. Monday morning, I amended as I looked at the old leather watch on Billy Blacks wrist. Before I could think I was pulled into my grandparents. I couldn’t breathe, lungs constricting and thoughts blurring. My tears were hot and choked as I cried onto my grandpa’s shoulder like I was five again. A small child who had fallen from a tree or who just missed her cousin and couldn’t understand why he couldn’t live with us all the time. I just want to know he’s safe. He’ll be safe I know but I don’t know.

I wasn’t sure for how long I stood and cried but I felt a familiar warm hand on my waist pulling me into an even more familiar chest. Paul’s hand stroked my hair as I cried. My head hurt.

“They have him, he’s okay.” He muttered into my hair. I breathed shakily and heavily as my hands slipped to his back, gripping his shirt. I hadn’t known at the time, but Paul had shifted to hear everyone while I was with my grandparents. Embry had found Quill on the Canadian border. He’d gone so far.

After he came back everyone departed with their respective partner. Embry, Quill and Jacob all phased back and cried into each other. Overwhelmed and angry. They cried so hard they couldn’t breathe. Knowing they would be going through this together though, that soothed Quill. He wasn’t alone again. There was no forgiveness in the air as we all knew why they’d been forced into this. Quills mom, my aunty Rita, grabbed him with the most pained hug I’d ever seen. Uncle had walked over to Paul and I, explaining that Quill had shifted in his sleep, he’d had a nightmare.

An orange hair pin caught my attention from the corner of my eye, turning I saw Kim Ironheart, my cousin. She wore an old pair of basketball shorts and an old jersey. I ran over to her. Clutching onto her. Asking above to spare her. She sobbed into me, her breaths as rugged as my own. Sleep still laid in her eyes like the slippers that clung to her feet.

A strong and clear voice called us over, Quill. He stood on his own in the space between us and the rest of those who lingered. I couldn’t make out his expression. I couldn’t bare to look. Kim walked over to him. Saying how he ‘shouldn’t scare us like that, shitass.’ I heard his laugh, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the floor. Would he even forgive me? Understand that if I had told him it could’ve triggered him earlier or that I knew why Embry and Jacob were ignoring him and it wasn’t because he was a bad friend but because he was too good. That I knew the end was near. He called my name again and I looked up. His eyes were creased with a smile and flooding with tears as his hand beckoned me over. I ran. The dirt under my sneakers fleeing beneath me. Colliding roughly with him and Kim. We were as thick as thieves. We stood together throughout so much, when I lost my parents, when Kim lost her closest friend and now when Quill lost a part of himself for others. Our arms weaved around each other like when we were kids begging our family to let us all sleepover. Our cries turned into laughter as we stood, feet planted in dirt.

“I take it the three of you are all sleeping in the living room tonight?” gran laughed, ushering us inside. Emily and Sam lingered, Paul laughed and followed my Grandparents inside with my phone and purse in his hands. As Quill went over to Sam, I tried pulling Kim by the hand, but she was frozen. Transfixed. I followed her gaze to Jared. He was as frozen as she was. Staring at her like they hadn’t known each other since they were three. Oh. I think this is… Not my place. I decided to go and find Paul, I dropped Kim’s hand but not before an extra squeeze to let her know she wasn’t alone. I found Paul on the sofa his smile transferring to mine. His lap was warm as I sat down.

“Did Jared?” I asked, his slight nod was all I needed. He stared at me trying to gauge my reaction. But all I could do was smile more; she’d liked him for such a long time.

“Lets sleep, I’ll knock Jared’s teeth out in the morning.” He joked pulling me down into him.

I couldn't sleep, not until Quill and Kim came in. We spoke for hours. Quill still wasn't Pauls biggest fan but he understood. They tore me a new one for how i found out about Paul and the rest of the legends. We didn't speak to Kim about Jared, they will take their time. For now it would just us basking in the sweet moments of the end. We'd take a hike together through the bush the next morning, finding our place once more on the beaten path.

pauls pinterest board

authors note: just handed in two essays back to back so please accept this as a gift for being away for longer than I expected! I took so much love and care writing this I hope it makes at least one persons day! Next up is Paul Lahote colour blind ! I love you all ! I'm going to promise right now that you will get another post on the 13th of March which is my birthday !! Take care- em x

#paul lahote imagine #twilight paul #paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #x reader #x you #x yn #twilight #new moon twilight #twilight saga #twilight renaissance #twilight revival #quil ateara #i cant believe this took me a month to write #i hope you all like it #if you dont just dont tell me #x y/n

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