Raining in my Heart
by Lady of Spain
Disclaimer: S. Meyer owns Twilight.
The clouds were bleeding out. Great drops of water soaked her clothing, running in rivulets down into her Converse, and essentially disguising what would otherwise have been unmistakably, tears in her chocolate eyes. He turned away from her; trotting back to the line of bare-chested, muscle bound, overgrown boys. That's what they were—boys. But what power they held over her Jacob!
Bella stood there, feeling helpless, watching the light in her life as he blended into the Quileute tapestry that was staring at her, waiting for her to leave their land.
She kept telling herself that it didn't matter. It wasn't like she was in love with him or anything. But maybe if she had tried a little bit harder to open her tightly locked heart to him, he wouldn't be with them now. He would be in the Taj, with her, joking, drinking root beer, and sharing the warmth of his love for her by holding her hand.
Did he really mean it when he told her to stay away and not come back? That was so unlike him. He could never be that cruel. He had always been so patient and loving, a smile forever on his lips. She was the one who held back and, yes, caused him untold misery. Bella knew he wanted more than just friendship, but her heart was so stingy, that she wouldn't part with a tiny fraction of the affection he longed for.
She probably deserved this punishment. Now her sun was gone, and she could only see rain in her future. She got back in her truck—the truck he had given her—and ambled down the water slicked road toward Forks.
Jacob wanted to howl in pain as the Chevy's engine rumbled its way back to her world—a world without him in it. What good did it do to be the protector of his people when he couldn't even protect his own lonely heart?
He felt horrible. That image of her, rain soaked and pitiful was fixed solidly in his head. Her face had looked so torn and hopeless, and the guilt ate at him, knowing that it was he who put that look there.
Leaving the pack behind he went into the house, ate dinner and tried to get some shuteye before his patrol. It was no go. The vision of that terrible sight played like a video over and over in his mind. He couldn't dislodge it no matter how hard he tried. He hoped that Sam would be privy to his thoughts tonight and feel that pain along with him, not that it would make Jacob feel any better. Sam deserved to sense his loss, and reap the heartbreaking result as well.
Bella was heartbroken, but why? Was she harboring deep-seated feelings for her best friend? Maybe she didn't know what real love felt like. The warm easy way they had with each other—was that love? Whatever it was, Bella didn't want to lose it. Being with Jacob filled her like a balloon full of air, now that he was gone, all the air had escaped, leaving her a wrinkled bit of latex, flaccid and useless.
Lying in bed that night, she kept thinking about the events that unfolded that day. No, this was unacceptable. Bella would go down fighting. Tears wouldn't bring him back; they were totally useless. She was not going to let him go like that. He was her Jacob, and Sam and the rest of those brutes could all just go to hell!
Bella snuck out the front door and raced back to La Push and the little red house that she knew so well. She parked a few doors down so Jacob wouldn't hear the thunderous roar of the truck's engine. Going around the back of the house, she looked in his window. The bed was empty. Was he out with his new found friends, that gang of thugs? Next she walked to the Taj—the lights were out. Crap—not there either.
She decided to drive over to First Beach, and wait. The boy had to come home sometime. She found Quil there, sitting on the sand. He was hunched over, his arms wrapped around his legs, his chin resting on his knees. The small fire beside him illuminated his face. What she saw, was a look of despondency. Was it a coincidence that he seemed as depressed as she was?
Quil looked up as she approached him. "Bella," he nodded.
Jamming her hands deeper into the pockets of her hoodie, she ignored the obvious and asked, "Hey, Quil, have you seen Jake?"
He stared lifelessly into the flames rising up from the fire pit. "Funny you should ask. No, and apparently he doesn't see me anymore either."
She sat down beside him. "You too? I'm sorry." Quietly, she recounted the whole wretched encounter that morning, and mentioned all the weeks he had been avoiding her. Apparently, she wasn't the only person Jacob was avoiding.
Quil turned to her, anger rising from his chest. It was evident in his tone when he said, "Yeah, well at least he misses you. And anyway, the word at school is—he's been miserable without you. It's not him, Bella; it's Sam. They all follow that freakin' jerk like a pack of puppies." He threw a nearby twig onto the fire, making the sparks fly into the air. The crackling grew louder.
The couple sat side by side quietly, deep in their own thoughts.
In the meantime, Jacob had finished his patrol. The sky was clear but it was raining torrents in his heart as he raced to Forks. He leapt over the window casement of Bella's bedroom only to find her bed unoccupied. Where could she be at this hour? Damn, he had to see her, to explain—sort of. He couldn't just leave things the way they now stood. If she only knew how much he missed her—how he wanted to run after her this afternoon, and defy Sam's orders. He hated what he had done to her. Even though she hadn't reciprocated his love; she was still his best friend. Jeez, Bella was the best thing that ever happened to him, and now his stupid wolf gene had made a mess of everything. Looking once more at her untouched bed, he dejectedly flew out her window and into the backyard. And so, thwarted in his efforts, he returned to his own bedroom in La Push and hit the sack for the second time today, for all the good it would do.
Why did this have to happen? He knew that if he just had a little more time with her, their lives would take the natural path they were meant to follow. She would one day love him; he was so certain of it. He groaned as his head sank down into the pillow beneath him. His life was meaningless without her.
Quil put out the fire after a bit, and accompanied Bella in her truck so she could drop him off at his home. Then as before, she was once again outside Jacob's room. He lay on his too small bed, his body facing the window. The light from the moon streamed into the open pane, casting a glow over his sweet face, and her heart stopped at the sight. With his dark hair streaked in moonlight, he looked like a vulnerable little boy, an innocent angel. How could she not love him? Staring at the boy and thinking of all he meant to her, she did the unthinkable. She climbed through his gaping window and slid onto the bed beside him, wrapping her arms about his broad shoulders.
Jacob moaned softly in his sleep. He was having such a vivid dream. Bella was in his bed, her arms surrounding him. He reached out and drew her to his chest more snugly.
She was so close to him, and found herself staring at his beloved countenance. Feelings of love, suppressed for so long, suddenly swelled within her breast. The cupid's bow of his mouth beckoned to her, and she heeded its call. Timidly, Bella pressed her mouth to his, and a sweet, warm sensation began to stir inside of her.
When their lips met, it was just as Jacob imagined it would be. He moaned aloud, but this time Bella joined him.
Gosh, his lips were so warm and soft, not cold and rock hard like Edward's. Why hadn't she ever kissed him before this?
His eyelids fluttered open at the sound of her moans. Was he dreaming? If he was, he never wanted to wake up ever again. If this was real—jeez, what the hell was happening?
"Bells?" he croaked, groggily.
"Hey," she replied. "You didn't think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?"
"What?" Unadulterated agony was reflected in his onyx eyes. "No … I mean … I didn't want to, you had to know that. Sam gave me an order. I couldn't disobey him. He was afraid I would hurt you."
What an odd thing to say. "You could never hurt me, Jake. Why would he think that?"
"We'll get to that later." Much later. "But the thing is … well … just don't get me upset, okay?"
Bella laughed softly, "Why would I purposely get you upset?"
"Jeez, never mind." He pulled her to him, tighter, tucking her head under his chin. "I don't want to be apart from you anymore, Bells. It just about killed me."
Tracing little circles on his shoulder, she whispered, "Shh, you don't have to say anything more—just hold me, Jake."
Suddenly, the realization dawned on him, confusion clouding his face. He tilted her head up so he could look at her. "Wait … you're actually here with me—in my bed? Did you …? Did we just …? Hell yeah, we were just kissing—really kissing ... weren't we?"
"Hell, yeah. I had to come crawling back to my Jacob. I can't live without air and sunlight." Holy Cow, what was she saying? Her mouth was spouting words that her heart was feeling. Bella unbelievably blurted, "My gosh, I think I've finally fallen in love with you."
Wide awake now, he sought out her lips, his fingers running through her long hair. They talked, and nuzzled and kissed. Then they talked and nuzzled and kissed some more. Jacob and Bella never slept at all that night, but neither of them seemed to care. It looked like the cloudburst had departed for good. From now on, only sunshine would rule their days.