Chapter 1: Summer Daydreams
She lay on her bed staring at the heavily glittered flower design gracing her ceiling, lost in thoughts of him. Why the builder of the house thought it was a good idea to use some sort of construction paste to smear a giant flower on her bedroom ceiling and then cover it in large pieces of glitter was incomprehensible to her. It was tacky. Even tackier though, were the similar floral monstrosities in the other rooms of the house. That's right...there were sparkle flowers on the ceilings of every room in the house, many of them larger and more detailed than the one above her. Although the public areas of the house – the kitchen, living room, etc. - were home to the largest and most ostentatious, the flower crafted on the ceiling of his room amused her the most. A grown man with a giant sparkley flower above his bed, it was just funny.
Granted, she didn't think of him as a grown-up. He had too many boyish characteristics – seemed too young - to include 'man' in any description of him. The words 'boy' or 'guy' seemed more appropriate. Not that she didn't fully realize he was a man. In fact, she was all too aware of his masculinity.
She heard him open the door to his room, just on the other side of the wall at the head of her bed. She turned down the soft music she had playing just enough to hear him sit down at his desk chair. He had to pay a few bills before they made their way over to First Beach for a pack beach day and barbecue, to be followed by the traditional tribal bonfire.
It was a beautiful day, the kind where all you want is access to the fresh air and sunshine. The type of day rarely seen in La Push, Washington. She was determined to take full advantage of the weather. She may have to wait a bit longer for some quality sun on the beach, but for now she had most of the windows in the house thrown wide open and all the lights turned off, letting the natural sunlight illuminate the rooms. The curtains of her bedroom window were being blown gently by the breeze, which in addition to the music of Ivy playing low in the background, was enough to make her feel perfectly content to remain splayed out on her bed in just her bathing suit and a pair of barely-there jean shorts all day. She knew he hated the shorts. Every time she wore them he got this strained look on his face then furrowed his brow, pinched the bridge of his nose while closing his eyes and letting his head fall forward, with his chin almost touching his chest, and sighing as he told her to go change. If she was being totally honest with herself, she liked to wear them sometimes just to annoy him.
The sound of him standing up from his chair brought her back from her thoughts. She could tell by the sound of his steps, however absurdly quiet they might be, that he was on his way to her door.
If she had ever voiced the thought out loud, she knew it would sound crazy, even to herself, but she was unnaturally attuned to his movements. Hell, to everything about him. She just knew. They didn't have to be in the same room for her to be able to tell what movements he was making, what kind of mood he was in, often she could even tell you what he was feeling down to the expression on his face. Just being within a certain radius of each other, regardless of walls separating them, their visibility to each other, even their states of consciousness, she always had at least a vague sense, if not a certainty, of anything and everything that involved him.
He knocked on the frame of her open door as he passed by it, and let her know without looking in, "I'm all done, love. Meet you downstairs in two, I'm just gonna grab us some towels." He had always called her love, ever since she could remember. But now the word made her heart flutter everytime he said it. No matter how many times she mentally scolded herself for the reaction because she knew he didn't mean it the way she wanted him to, it was only habit, she couldn't find it in herself to acknowledge her fantasies as just that – fantasies - and finally accept that it was all just her hopelessly romantic high school daydreams...not reality.
Maybe it was from living together for so long, or from always having been so close. Maybe she was so in love with and obsessed with him that she had deluded herself into believing that something about their connection or relationship was special, different.
Or maybe she was just crazy.
Author's Note: So this is a plotline I've had in mind for a while. I've also got a Leah x Embry story on the go, but since I had yet to receive any reviews at all and I was more excited about this story anyway, I've decided to pick up on this one for a while. If anyone reads my Leah x Embry fic, likes it, and wants me to continue, I'd be more than happy to do so. I've got a lot of spare time and do really enjoy writing "Lost and Found" as well, all it'll take is a review or two and I'll keep updating both simultaneously. Reviews are always good (even when they're not favorable)!