And maybe I should have just walked away like my cousin Bella had suggested- just walk away from any strangers.

But I couldn't have kept my eyes-damn them- from his hands, from his eyes. The flowers he held in his clenched fist, the secrets he hid in those beautiful yet harsh orbs. The blossoms were wilting, and they've only just grown. I can't recall why it makes me feel empty, but just the memories of seeing those dying yellow daffodils in the boy's coarse hands... Those daffodils, same color as his eyes- topaz gold eyes. Wilting.

Glaring viciously into the timber-maned wolf's golden-topaz eyes, the corners of my lips raised unconsciously to form a sharp snarl, my hesitation surfacing and disappearing in less than a second. The wolf gnashed his teeth back dangerously at me, gleaming canines seeming to elongate in the timid glow of moonlight. His muzzle crinkled in disgust, making the skin crawl up, fully exposing the white teeth, much too bright for my taste. We've successfully mirrored each other, my wolf and I, both wearing the same ferocious, savage grimaces. A hiss no louder than a whisper darts past my numb, slightly parted lips, and the wolf lunges. His coarse fur rubs roughly against my chest as l dodge the snaps and gnarls aimed for my throat. A warm and sticky liquid glides down my cheek, and I realize a moment too late that the wolf's knife-like claw has pierced through the thin layer of sun-kissed skin lying below my left eye. Quickly turning on him, I surged forward, pinning him to the damp, coffee-bean ground. There's a loud and sudden clicking sound which I recognize later to be the snap of my teeth clicking together quickly, clenching tightly and then unclenching briskly. The auburn wolf struggles under my grasp, its claws scratching against my fingers, red marks appearing over lightly-tanned skin, and breaks away easily. Again I feel a sticky wetness, but this time it's located near my right temple. I refuse to flinch as the rusty-colored wolf bares its fangs at me, much too close for my comfort. But a gasp escapes the safety of behind my lips—it's almost silent, true, but still a cry nonetheless—and I watch in a heated fury as the wolf seems to smirk victoriously at me. The haughty glimmer in its eyes only lasts a moment before it growls at me again and dark spots cloud my vision. A prickly, stinging shot of pain spills into the back of my mind, its pools of hurt growing larger and larger until it's the only thing I feel, the only thing I can feel. The dark patches that had appeared at first as a mist grew into a heavy fog, black covering my vision and…

Empty nothingness.

And when I wake up, I expect to see him. Glaring at me coldly, our eyes lock for an instant and then his gorgeous orbs pierce me until I am forced to look away.

And when I wake up, I expect a glower and only a glower from him, nothing more and nothing less. And that is what I get.

And when I wake up, I expect no words of comfort or apology for knocking me out. There's only a frigid silence. But neither of us are bothered by it.

And when I wake up, I expect that he knows how I feel and if I'm alright. Because he does; I can see it in his actions- reserved yet concerned, just a bit.

And when I wake up, I expect him to stay by my side and only by my side. And that's where he is, staring off into the distance, brows knotted in his everyday frown. But he's still here, and that's what I expect when I wake up.

"Don't ask me to attack you if you can't defend yourself," my wolf says harshly. I don't mind, though, because I'm used to it.

"I can too defend myself. I thought you said you'd go easy on me," I snap back, still lying on the ground, soft grass teasing my nose. He snorts and I roll my eyes, our usual exchange of conversation.

"I did go easy on you, weakling." I don't bother to argue with Nate because I'm used to this. I'm used to his insults; they bounce right off my steel, six-inch-thick armor. I'm used to his snorts and his scoffs. I'm used to everything about him, from the forest-scented smell of his fur and hair to the shadow of his well-defined figure. He runs a slim hand through his unruly orange-blonde hair, seeming pleased to be in his human form. Or at least as pleased as Nate can look with his usually emotionless or seemingly fierce features, blank looks in his eyes but frowns etched onto his lips. It's hard to tell when he's happy, but I think I've learned a lot about Nate. His eyes lose their glazed-over stares when he's pleased. His grimace softens up, almost disappearing from his beautiful face. I laugh suddenly, drawing a slightly confused look from my wolf, one that shifts into a glare of annoyance. I laugh again. What on earth was I thinking, "I learned a lot about Nate"? Nate is a lock that I can't find the key to, no matter how hard I try. The closest I can get to knowing him is taking a bobby-pin and hoping that somehow he will pry open. So I wait patiently for that moment, for the moment when Nate will let me drown in his secrets the same way I drown in his honey-gold eyes.

"Get up," Nate demands, not offering a single hand to help me up. But I don't wait for one. Rising steadily to my feet, I follow as he grabs my hand and pulls me through the woods. The walk is silent, and I don't anticipate a conversation. Nate likes his walks silent, and so I let him have silent walks. The leaves crunch loudly under my feet and the twigs rub against my knees through the rips in my jeans. I am screaming in comparison to Nate—silent and stealthy, stepping here and there for only a second, nothing moving under his touch. He's like a ghost, leaving no traces of ever being anywhere. I glare at him in jealousy, but he glares back. And my glower falters, because I can't beat his.

He leads me to a running stream surprisingly quickly considering that he had never been to this part of the forest before. Bending down, he dips his hands in the water with ease and rinses his perfect, oval face with the clear, clean liquid. I kneel down next to him, slightly dirtying my knees with the mud lying next to the babbling brook. The water smells sweet as I hesitantly brush the surface of it with my fingertips. Eagerly submerging my hands into the icy liquid, I flex my fingers until they grow numb, enjoying the feel of the cold. A single touch of the frigid water sends a jolt of energy darting through my veins. Ready to wash off my face, too, I reach for the liquid but I soon realize that there's nothing for me to wash. My skin is clean, shockingly clean. My left hand flies to my neck and my other to my temple, but the blood there is non-existent. Where was the evidence of the fight from last night?

"Took you to the stream and cleaned you up," I hear Nate mutter, nearly inaudible. It's only when he quirks an inquisitive brow at me that I become aware of the foolish grin on my lips. He shakes his head at me and looks away in irritation or maybe even embarrassment and pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. I hear a faint "should've just killed you", but the smile not once removes it from my lips. It stays there, unfaltering, and I think I can see a tiny one grow on Nate's features, too. Before I can decipher what was happening, my face was suddenly close to his cheek; I must've pecked him there on impulse. And though it was involuntary, I decide that I like the feeling of my lips pressed against his cheek. My gaze shifts over to his lips, pale pink, and I can feel Nate growing a light tinge of red. "Shut up," he mumbles, "I can hear you thinking."

A/N:

There! Done! I finished! The first chapter! Yay!

I'm not particularly fond of Twilight, so this was a challenge until I decided to create my own couple. And I think this will be set sometime around the end of Breaking Dawn, yup. *nodnod* Next chapter will be done from Third Person~

DISCLAIMER:

I DO NOT OWN TWILIGHT.

Nor do I want to, no offense.

*gulps* Hope I didn't chase off any Twilight-lovers (that could be potential reviewers XD)