oh, darling, your fragile wings
jacob&leah - If we were meant to fly, we'd have wings. / For Sunny (a glimmer in the night) & our mutual hate for Sam&Emily
—hey, he barks in her head, pun intended, —you're supposed to be running a perimeter.
She glares. —there are a lot of things that i am supposed to be doing, or supposed to have done. if you want me to do it so badly, then make me.
—no, he grows. She laughs.
—i thought so.
.&.
—i'm tired of you, he spits, half meaning it and half not.
She is bitter. —everybody is.
.&.
He kisses her so she will shut up, because she whines too much and it's not like she's a guy he can just beat up and he won't command her he's not Sam and—
She punches him in the jaw, and doesn't break her hand.
.&.
In reality, she doesn't punch him because of the kiss, per se.
Really, she bunches him because of the way it makes her feel. Which is entirely ludicrous. But also so entirely Leah.
But that kiss. It was fleeting and brief and uncalled for and unexpected and from Jacob and he carries her burdens too and—
It makes her soar.
.&.
—are you scared of flying? he asks her, staring at the sky. She half wonders if he'd heard her thoughts on the kiss, but decides that he didn't.
—if we were meant to fly, she tells him matter-of-factly, —we wouldn't be wolves, we would be birds.
He thinks it's a good point, shuts up, and resumes his gazing.