A/N A Quil/Claire fic written for Winged Soldiar's Rose Contest. But leave a review anyway to tell me what you think. By the way...wishing I had written Twilight doesn't mean I own it. That's Stephenie Meyer's job
I couldn't believe the sight before me. The day's storm had left no survivors. Victims of its wrath had been brutally ripped from their homes and strewn all over the lawn. All my work to amend the chaos that was Aunt Emily's back garden had been ruined. I had no choice but to start again.
I sunk down onto the doorstep. I don't know what I had been expecting when I got outside but certainly not this. The more I thought about all the effort that had been wasted, the more overcoming that prickling in my sinuses became. I had planned to surprise Emily when her and Uncle Sam got back from their vacation, I had used my spare key to stay in their house and work tirelessly for the last few days. Everything was ready I even had streamers ready to put up but the weather seemed to have other ideas. Stupid La Push weather.
I don't know how long I just sat there wallowing in my own self-pity. I was so caught up, I didn't even notice when Quil sat beside me. Sure, I heard him but through my sobs I didn't register that someone was speaking to me. I certainly felt the comforting arm wrap itself tightly around my shoulders though. I always noticed whenever he so much as lightly brush me. It was then I realised how cold I had gotten. Crying outside with a jacket wasn't the best idea.
"It's alright Claire. I'm sure if we get help we can redo everything by tomorrow," I looked at him sceptically but couldn't restrain the delighted smile that welled up.
"It's night. Everyone will be sleeping," I tried to protest contradicting grin. He chuckled that deep laugh that sent butterflies through my stomach every time I heard it. My previous misery was no match for the uncontainable joy that Quil's laugh brought on.
I doubted that we would actually be able to do it but something deep inside me willed me to believe Quil's every word. It was like he always knew exactly what to say to make me feel better.
He gently kissed my forehead. My heart began to race. Each tiny detail suddenly became significant. I spotted a freckle on Quil's cheek I'd never noticed before. His lips slowly opened. He was going to kiss me. I would have shut my eyes but my excitement was too great. It was finally going to happen. He had seen the light. Quil leaned into closer. He was going to….he was going to….not.
His enticing lips moved to my ear "Go to bed Claire," He whispered softly. It took all my effort not to slap him. How dare he tease an emotional fragile teen like that. Did he even realise the hold he had over me?
"Go away Quil," I growled viciously. His astonishment over my sudden mood change was written clearly over his handsome face. Quil wasn't moving and I knew if he stayed I would do something stupid like confess my crush. I was teetering on the edge and didn't want to be pushed. "I don't want you here,"
"Claire? What's going on?"
"Just leave," He slowly walk out of the front gate, any traces of his usual confidence had disappeared. The way his shoulders slumped sent a pang of guilt shivering down my spine. The shattering echo of my slamming the door sounded just like another onset of thunder. The noise continued to ring in my head as I dragged myself back to my makeshift bed on the couch.
Sleep hit me hard and fast. All the gardening from that morning had sapped every last ounce of my strength. I knew if Quil came back now I wouldn't even be able to stay mad at him. Just. So. Tired.
I was in a beautiful flower filled meadow. There was not a troublesome cloud blotting the sky. A lone seat was nestled in the middle. I didn't think this odd. This meadow was what it was and besides, the seat was occupied by Quil. That was enough to stop me questioning anything. His eyes lit up when he saw me. I seemed to almost float towards him. He reached beside him and smoothly handed me a bouquet of red roses that he had picked just for me. I knew this without him having to tell me. Then he stood. He stood and took me into his arms. He leant in. My eyes wouldn't close, I had to savour this proximity. His soft lips were about to touch mine.
A chasm appeared out of nowhere and he nudged me in. I was falling. Falling, down, down down.
A jolt went through my body as I woke. It almost was like I had actually fallen out of the dream world - oh so like reality - and back onto the couch.
My hand bumped into something soft. I opened my eyes inhaling deeply as I did so. An alluring fragrance hit me. To start with I couldn't place it, then Of course Roses. A flash of red caught my eye. Sitting on my pillow with a rose. A rose without thorns. There was no doubt where it had came from, only one person would have gone through such trouble to ensure I wouldn't receive the tiniest scratch.
There were more. A lot more. A long winding trails of blossoms led away from the couch and towards the back door. My mouth involuntarily gaped open. How did I not wake up? I lift up the thornless rose and caressed it against my cheek. I love roses. The smell, the feel, the sound of the word, not the taste however. Don't ask.
The trail of petals ached for me to follow it and I was happily obliged to do so. I knew my hair was probably a matted nest and my eyes red and puffy but my curiosity overwhelmed my vanity by a mile. My heat became a pounding drum in my chest as I drew that another tiny step closer to the end of my yellow brick road. It wove around through the kitchen where, a half drained cup of something caffeinated sat on the bench and out the wide open back door. I followed it trustingly.
I heard him before I saw him. The low whistling of a familiar tune gave his presence away, if the drink and flowers hadn't already done it. A shirtless Quil was racing around the lawn after flyaway black plastic. I was too intoxicated by the sight of his chiselled abs to notice anything else and it was him to make the first move of conversation.
"Claire," The way he said my name was almost a breathless gasp, most likely from the running. "You're up too early." It wasn't a scolding, more a shocked statement of facts. I didn't know how to respond so I just shrugged my shoulders. Quil was flustered and it was exceeding cute.
"I..Well..I had planned to.. I wanted." He stuttered as he paced back over to the house where I was standing looking like I had been left out in the storm and not the garden. THE GARDEN. As cheesy movie flick as it was, I did a double take and rubbed my eyes as if clearing my vision would change what I saw. It was fixed. Every last ruined plant had been removed and replaced by an identical substitute. Every last one. It was my turn to stutter.
"Did you?…I mean, How can I?…How did you?…Why?" My words reflected the way a million of my thoughts all clashed together. So many questions, so little answers. Quil had taken hours, possibly most of the night to repair my problems. Did this mean he really did care for me? Or was it just a favour for a friend? And how was it possible for him to get any better looking in less than 12 hours?
My eye candy was removed. Quil had thrown a well worn singlet top back on. He seemed to have given up on words, just like me. Instead, he took my hand in his feverishly warm one and placed something inside. A yellow rose with a red tip. Yellow and red, warm just like his skin. He smiled sweetly and I felt my own face light up in response. The crushing depression I had felt last night had vanished. It had felt like the bad weather hadn't only ripped away my work but my cheerfulness. Only then I had forgotten one thing. When Quil's around, there's always hope after a storm
A/N Just a side note for those how don't know their rose meaning (Everyone XD) A thornless rose symbolises "Love at First Sight", A single rose means "Exceptional love all concentrated on you." Yellow roses means Joy, Gladness, Friendship, Delight, Promise of a new beginning, Welcome Back, Remember Me, Jealousy, "I care" and with a red tip it represents friendship with the promise of love.