A/N:

Tequila: Heeeeellooooo…

Justin: Hey! This is a one-shot, just because we wanted to explore what it really felt like to imprint. Soon we'll get back to our other stories.

Tequila: And because it was in my head and wouldn't come out until I wrote it down.

Justin: Yeah… that too. So, enjoy!

Disclaimer: Hmm… if we claim to have imprinted on the story, do you think Ms. Meyer will let us have it??? Because you know, that level of devotion is hard to deny…

My Everything

The moment I saw her, it was as if the world turned upside-down for a moment, then righted itself again. Everything was the same. Only nothing would ever be the same again, because I was now hers. Utterly, eternally hers. I had known what Quil, and Sam, and Jared had felt, had heard their thoughts and their reasons, but now I understood it. When the world had righted itself, she was at the center. She was now the only reason for anything.

She was just the right height. Her hair was just the right shade of reddish-brownish-auburnish-perfect. She hadn't seen me yet, hadn't turned around. I coughed. As much as I wanted to stand her forever and drink in her presence, it probably wasn't fair to go on staring at her back without letting her know I was there. Damn.

She turned around with a gasp. That gasp was undoubtedly the most incredible resonance I have ever had the very extreme privilege to hear. I should have said something then, but all I could think about, all I could focus one, were her eyes. They were stunning. Gray, a deep gray that made me think of the sky and the water and the world just before a storm was about to hit. Completely alluring in their depth, their resonating warmth and intelligence and perfection. I would willingly drown in those eyes; I could fall in and never surface again.

"Hi." My voice was hoarse. "My name's Seth. Seth Clearwater." What did she think of my voice? I already knew that her voice would be amazing, without ever having heard her speak.

I think my heart stopped when she smiled. It was a revelation: my entire goal was to keep that smile in existence. That was now the be all and end all. That was my life… to make her happy so I wouldn't have to despair. I rather belatedly realized that her hand was out—I was going to touch her hand. I couldn't breathe. The softest contact was thrilling, the feel of her skin against mine, indescribably perfect. She laughed quietly (the magic in that sound!) and I realized I had been shaking her hand for far too long. Oh, no. Was she mad? Did she hate me? She hated me. Oh, no. But she was still smiling, so perhaps there was hope. Perhaps I could make her forgive me.

"I'm Kennedy." Her voice was amazing: light, breathy, beautiful. I wondered if she sang. She should: it would be breathtaking. She was breathtaking. She was quite literally taking away my breath. But it was worth it, the mildly panicky feeling of not getting quite enough air, the gripping self-consciousness that I already knew would mark every second I spent in her company. I wasn't good enough for her: I would never be good enough for her. I had to try, though. She was worth it. She was my future. She was my everything.

A/n: review, pretty please with a cherry on top?