Author's Note: Hey there people! Happy new year! This is my first time posting anything online. It's sort of a little experiment for me. I would really appreciate it if I could perhaps, get some feedback and some tips on how to improve my writing. English is not my native tongue so you might find some grammar errors. Thank you for taking your time to read this. With that said, to the one-shot!
He had to run. To forget the pain, to forget himself, to forget… her. It was all he could do. His legs carried him for hours, never tiring, only gaining more speed as his heart beat furiously in his chest. Hours, upon hours passed and still he kept going. He was not ready to change back into his human body, he was afraid he would not be able to withstand the pain. As a wolf he could deal with it better; his instincts overrode his senses, his emotions, and the wind blowing across his face as he made his way deeper into the forest, kept him distracted from the pain. He could still feel it, but it came in the form of faint spasms that were nothing compared to the way he had felt earlier when he had been talking to Leah.
Leah… he knew he would get hell from Sam for what he said to her. Oh well, it would be worth it. She should have known better than to antagonize him that way, she knew, just like the rest of the pack, that he wanted to be alone. If anything, he thought, she should know better than anyone else how he felt. After all, Sam had picked Emily over her, under different circumstances yes, but wouldn't the pain still feel the same? Sam had imprinted on Emily, so in reality, he'd had no choice. And Bella was addicted to Edward, she could not live without him, she had once told him he was her everything and without him even the simple task of breathing seemed impossible, so could that be considered a sort of imprinting? He did not know.
Imprinting was something he had never given much thought to, most of his thoughts had always been on Bella or his pack. He had felt it many times though when Sam and Emily were together. He also felt it when Quil saw Claire, but he tried to ignore that one. He knew of course, that it had not been Quil's choice, but in reality, although he was ashamed to admit it, even to himself, the thought of his friend imprinting on a two-year-old made him a bit uncomfortable. Thankfully though, his friend understood and did not take it as an offense. He had felt it yes, but even then the feeling had been foreign, it was not his, so he could not really comprehend it. He loved Bella with his whole being, so much that it hurt, literally. And yet, he had not imprinted on her. Could imprinting really be stronger than what he felt for her? He doubted it.
She picked the disgusting leech, although, he had to confess, that deep down he knew she would. But the memories of the times they had spent together gave him a small glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, she would go to him instead. That maybe, all of those months they had spent together would mean as much to her as they did to him.
He could have done for her so many things that the leech could not. They could have had a family, he would have made her happy, he would have protected her with his live. He would have given himself, his whole being, to her. They were meant for each other, if only that bloodsucker would have stayed away… But that was wishful thinking, things were not like that. She had gone to him, she had picked him, she loved him. She loved that stupid parasite more than him, she wanted him. And there was nothing he could do about it. He tried. He really did. She did realize she loved him, just not enough.
He was still running. The trees blended together into a green abyss which seemed to swallow him up as he blurred past them in a desperate attempt to forget. No one had changed during the whole time he had been lost in his thoughts, his head was free for himself, if only for a short time. He had gone a long way from home. But he felt that it was not enough. He did not want to feel again. Perhaps he should stay as a wolf. He would not be the first to pick this form over the other. The others would be fine without him, they were strong and the pack was large, one wolf less wouldn't matter. And then he thought of Billy. Would he be okay? The pack would certainly make sure that he was. But, how would he cope? How would he feel when he realized that his son would not come home that night? When he realized that his son would not come home at all? Jacob was all he had. If anything, he was the one who kept him tied to this world.
After his mother died, his father had been devastated. Jacob had at one point believed that his father would soon join his mother in eternal slumber the way things had been going. His sisters were ready to leave home and face the world on their own, but Jacob, he was still so young, so naïve and he needed protection. He needed to be taken care of still. So his father had pulled through and managed to stay in this world if only to help his son in any way he could.
Could he just leave him? His own father?
With these thoughts he came to an abrupt stop. Taking a look around for the first time since he started running, he was surprised to find himself farther than he had anticipated. The full moon hung straight above him shinning brightly against a surprisingly clear night sky. Funny that when his heart was clouded over with inner turmoil, the sky would choose to show its full splendor to the people under it. The stars seemed to shine with a new vigor and the wind, which had been so forcibly blowing against his face while he was running, was now gently moving the tree tops from side to side with an almost hypnotic feel to it. It was late at night he realized, very late. It had been early in the afternoon when he had started running, and now it was well past midnight. He sat there staring up at the moon. What should he do? Run until his legs could no longer carry him, or go back home where his brothers, where his father, waited for him? They were worried about him no doubt. Would he really abandon them?
As a wolf, his emotions did not cloud his mind as much as when he was human. To go back meant to change back into his human form. He would have to deal with his pain as a human, not a wolf. He knew that with every heartbeat, a wave of pain would come and wash over him chilling him to his very soul. That every time he thought of her, he would think of how their life could have been should she have chosen him instead of the leech. It would be agony. Pure hell. He vaguely wondered if that was how Bella had felt when the bloodsucker left her. At the thought of the leech he felt a spark of anger flash. But the wolf in him ignored it. He would not waste energy being mad at that thing, not now at least. He had other things to think about.
Would he seriously abandon his family?
His pack?
His father?
No. He would not. He could not. They needed him.
But could he live with the pain? He would have to deal with it. He had to be strong for his father, for his brothers. He would not be mopping around when they needed him. He would be strong for them. If Bella could do it, so could he. Maybe someone would come along in the future and help him just like he had helped Bella. Hey, maybe he even got to imprint on someone, though right now he wanted nothing to do with females; Leah, Bella or otherwise. He would not go after Bella anymore. But he would not let that leech see him destroyed, not like that. He would not let him see him crushed with pain. He would not let him feel pity for him, that would be like rubbing salt in the wound. No, he would show him, and everyone else that he would not be brought down, not like that.
He stood, never taking his eyes away from the moon and with a strength that surprised him, howled at the moon. His cry was deep, and long. His pain, everything he felt, as a wolf and as a human, had been put on that single cry. He howled until his lungs burned from the lack of oxygen. A single tear he shed. And as it moved down his cheek, leaving a trail on his fur like a scar, he promised to himself that it would be the last tear he would ever shed for Bella.
With one last look at the moon, he turned and ran back to where he knew his family was anxiously waiting for his return. He was a Werewolf after all, and in stories (some at least), Werewolves died from silver bullets, not broken hearts.