A/N: This started as a one-shot. Tell me if you want me to continue it. And someone, give me an idea for Leah's imprint's name! Please!
Leah
It's raining, as is usual in La Push. Leah likes it, though. At her temperature, the cool drops are pleasant. Besides, there's something about the rain-shrouded hills that makes her feel a tiny bit better. It doesn't wipe out her grief: it just turns it from the ugly raging thing it is to a quiet sorrow that's almost beautiful. Almost.
She's shopping for groceries, like she promised Sue. It seems an age since she did anything so normal. Everything just went crazy when Bella returned from her honeymoon. She almost likes Bella now. Well, now that the leech-girl's apologised for hurting Seth. Leah understands: she's wanted to lash out at Seth often enough herself, even if what Bella did was just an accident.
She's about to step up to the counter when some guy pushes past her, heading for the door. She turns to yell at him, and he glances at her out of the corner of his eye.
Everything changes. She isn't who she was a moment ago. The hideous black heartache that snaked its way into every part of her life is gone. In its absence she feels glorious. She feels beautiful again. Not bouncy and friendly, like she was before. Quiet and thoughtful and… lovely, in the way of those grey hills she was admiring a minute ago.
She stares after the guy, but he's gone. The image of him seems to linger in the air, ghostlike. Light brown hair – soft and wavy: oh, how she'd love to run her fingers through it – and fair skin. And liquid grey-gold-green eyes. She wants to follow him, to see his face again, even though it's irrevocably branded into her memory.
Then she realises what must have happened. She, Leah Clearwater, the freaky female werewolf, has imprinted.
With her acceptance comes a feeling of discomfort, an odd straining sensation, as if every fibre, every pore of her is reaching out towards him. She doesn't stop to think about the groceries she leaves on the counter. She sprints out of the shop without so much as a single backwards glance and sniffs the air, trying to catch his scent. She finds it, and sighs softly. Then she follows it blindly, barely looking where she's going. She's never allowed herself to run this fast in human form before, and it feels smooth and graceful and exhilarating. The pull strengthens. She speeds up. She'd phase, but he could be going right to the town centre.
He's not. He's heading straight for the forest. Leah smiles.
Leah's imprint (he doesn't have a name yet)
He saw the chocolate chip cookies and his breath hitched. They reminded him of… her. They were her favourite. He didn't want to be reminded of her. The grocery store abruptly seemed too stuffy. He rushed out, needing to be in the forest, in the fresh rain-wet air.
Now he's walking aimlessly through the forest. He likes this place. It helps him forget. She always hated the rain, and the greenness of La Push annoyed her. This forest is her antithesis. It's perfect for cleansing his mind of her. Besides, it's beautiful in its own right.
He can hear something, something faintly like footsteps, but he dismisses it as his imagination.
No, there's another noise. A whisper of sound, like leaves brushing against skin. He turns quickly towards the tree it came from. There's nothing there. He thinks he must be going crazy. For a moment he thought he saw a person in the tree.
There's the sound again. He whirls around. Yet again there's no-one there. But he could have sworn he saw the same person in that tree.
Once more he hears the sound. He twists around to see, despite knowing it's hopeless. He was right: there is no one there. But just below, hidden behind the tall ferns, he can see a pair of eyes, luminous and lovely.
He walks towards the ferns, very slowly. The brown eyes stay where they are.
He reaches out, pushes the ferns aside. His breath catches in his throat.
Standing there, looking at him intently, is the owner of the brown eyes. She is tall, with smooth reddish skin and wavy black shoulder-length hair. Her eyes seem to dare him to speak. She is beautiful, but it is a fierce beauty, like… like the way warriors in the olden days found beauty in a well-balanced sword.
"What are you doing here?" he asks, wondering why he is abruptly so nervous.
She smiles, very slightly, and her face is breathtaking. "I might ask you the same question," she says. Her voice is low and clear and gentle. It is a beautiful sound, as if every word she utters is poetry.
"What's your name?" he blurts out. He doesn't understand why he feels he has to know more about her.
The smile remains. "Leah."
A wolf's howl suddenly rings out through the forest. The smile is gone from her face. She turns and is about to walk away, when she looks back at him. Her eyes are full of uncertainty. She reaches up with one hand, and her fingertips brush his cheek for a second. It is a tender gesture, lover-like. Then she disappears into the forest.