Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or settings of the Twilight Series. It is all own by Stephenie Meyer.
The Paper
~ The Paper ~
I tried ignoring him. Truly, I did. But those warm brown eyes of his kept staring at me imploringly. They all but begged for me, giving me promises of dark nights by the fireplace, of red roses, chocolate and picnic baskets, of sheets and sweats and screams in the night. It didn't help that the one time my will had wavered and I had dared glance over at him, where he was lying splayed out on my bed, his whole face had lit up. He had sent me one of those dazzling smiles of his, the ones that took my breath away and made me want to do nothing but stare at his face. But I couldn't give him the attention he craved at the moment because I was busy.
I stared determinedly back at the screen of the computer, decidedly ignoring the faint reflection of him I could see in there. I wasn't kidding anyone; he knew what effect he had on me. He was aware that I could see his outline. I didn't need to look at him to know that. I shook my head and began typing on the keyboard, continuing the analysis of the Harry Potter series.
… and Albus Dumbledore, notorious for giving second chances, let Sirius Black rot in Azkaban for twelve long years. Azkaban which is as close to hell as you can get on God's green Earth. Dumbledore must have known Sirius well, due to his time in the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore must have known what James meant to Sirius, how James' parents had taken Sirius in when he had no one else, and how James had become like a brother to him. Dumbledore was a member of the Wizengamot, one of the ruling aspects of the Wizarding World, for crying out loud, and yet he didn't fight the ministry's horrifying trial-optional policy.
"Bella." His husky voice rung across my small bedroom. I froze, my fingers resting on the 'L' and 'T' keys on the keyboard. I glared at the half-finished document on my computer, using all of my willpower to not give into him.
Damn him.
"Bella, aren't you finished yet?" he asked, a clear whining undertone to his voice. My annoyance and slight anger at him fizzled away and was replaced by a soft smile. It was easy to forget, sometimes, that he also wanted me. It was nice to be reminded of that from time to time; while I never had felt like I was nothing compared to him, he was him, and I was simply me. He could have anyone he chose; I was sure of that. All he had to do was walk out onto the streets to get any other girl. Yet, he had chosen me.
I sighed. Despite my affection for him, he was, in fact, disturbing me at the moment.
"Jacob, you know I have to finish this. I've already pushed it by postponing writing the paper until this late. Not that I regretted last night." I turned in my chair, sending him a shy grin. I brushed the stray strands of hair behind my ear. "Far from it," I told him, my own voice taking a husky tone. His pupils dilated as he wet his lips.
He was still lying in my bed, across the room from where I was sitting by my computer. He hadn't gotten up from bed today but to get food in the small kitchen and the random bathroom visit here or there. He hadn't even donned a single piece of clothing, the suit and boxers lying hazardly thrown around the floor from the night before. The only thing that separated all of him from the world was a thin sheet. He hadn't even tried to cover himself up much, the sheet only covering one of his muscular legs, and a part of him I very much liked and which had given me great pleasure many times before.
I smirked at him, as I saw him enlarge under the sheet. And then I spun around in the chair, to once again face the screen of my computer. He groaned loudly, and I had to suppress laughter, as I tried to focus again.
I put my fingers to the keyboard.
Let me be clear so that there is no room for misunderstandings: this is the man who took a former Death Eater, Snape, at his word – the very man who informed Voldemort of the Prophecy which made the Dark Lord target the Potters. Albus shielded this man from prison and even employed him at a school for children. But did he do that for Sirius Black, a wizard who had fought by his side against Voldemort and his followers? No, Albus didn't have a use for Sirius, so he didn't care about him.
I jumped in my seat as warm arms snaked around my shoulders, followed a moment later by a head pressed itself against my cheek. Panic set in for a moment, before his musky smell invaded my nostrils, making me weak in the knees. He didn't say anything at first, only breathing in and out, in the processing tickling my skin and eroding my will to not get back into bed with him.
"Jake," I sighed.
"Can't you finish later?" he asked me as he kissed my neck.
"Jake," I repeated.
"If you finish it later, then we can get back into bed," he whispered to me, as his lips moved up along my neck, nibbling my ear lobe. I groaned in pleasure, and I felt him smile in response. It would only take one more of those kisses to make me abandon my work.
That was when the picture of strict Professor Frasier popped into my head, looking so disappointedly at me and my half-finished and half-hearted paper. It snapped my eyes open.
"Jacob, please let me finish," I all but pleaded with him. My tone of voice must've finally carried my message across; It made him stop. I spun around the chair, making sure not to look down. His face was only inches from my own, and he looked at me with eyes full of love. It made me smile.
"I just want to spend time with you," Jacob told me. "We haven't spent much time together as of later. I don't want to lose you."
I smiled lovingly at him and leant in to give him a chaste kiss on the lips. I caressed his chin, the light stubble prickling my fingers as I did.
"Jake, you are not going to lose me," I told him. "I love you. And I apologise for not making more time. It's just been so hectic the last two months here at Uni."
He nodded, "I know it's stupid, but I don't think you know how much I love you."
"And you have no idea just how much I love you," I told him, kissing him once more. "Now, you can stay, but please let me finish the paper. I'm almost done with the content, and then I can read it through later."
"All right," he agreed. I turned back to the computer, revelling in the warm feeling, both the physical and emotional kind, as he embraced me as he did a moment ago, but without the distracting caressing.
To be honest, Albus Dumbledore is one of the most disturbing, terrifying characters I have found in a book. The reason for this is simple: he thought he was a good guy, the good guy, and so did everyone else. And that is why no one in the books really challenges him on anything. Given Harry, who a lot of Dumbledore's decisions hurt, forgave him for everything he did in the end, but still: when you truly look between the lines and on the whole picture, Dumbledore was a profoundly immoral and unethical person.
I leant back in the chair with a satisfied nod. This had to satisfy Professor Frasier. She was a strict one, but also one of the best teachers I had had the pleasure of learning from.
"I thought Dumbledore was supposed to be one of the good guys?" he asked from beside me. I turned my head to see him reading the part of the paper which was visible on the screen.
"After this assignment, I have to say that he is one of my least favourite characters," I admitted to him.
His eyebrows rose in surprise, "Why?"
I took in a deep breath as I got pensive. "There are many reasons, but I think the thing that really did it for me, was that he left Harry with the Dursleys, and kept him there even after the signs of abuse. And I don't think there is ever a reason to leave a child in an abusive home. Ever."
Now it was his turn to got pensive. I got a playful smirk on my lips, as I leant into him and kissed him on the cheek. He looked surprised at me.
"I'm done with the paper for now," I told him in a suggestive tone. His eyes darkened again. A second later he swept me up, threw me back in the bed, and all but ripped the undergarments I had been wearing from my body. I shrieked out in laughter.
He kissed me hard, and said into it, "I love you, Bella."
I smiled into the kiss, our teeth clanking slightly at the action. "I love you too, Jake."
~ The Paper ~
Author's Notes: This, along with 'Marry Me?', I found in the deep recesses of my computer. They are slightly embarrassing, but also emboldening as I see how far I've come in my writing. Though, judging from the plot set up in the two stories, I can only conclude that I had a bit of an inferiority complex back then (God, I hope it was only back then).
Anyway, as tooth-rotting as this piece of fluff was, I hope you enjoyed it for what it was.
Synthesis