Like My Other Half
by: Lou
A/N: My first chapter! I think I've decided to make this a two-chapter story. Hope you enjoy this, and reviews are nice.
Disclaimer: Once again, I am a poor, poor woman. I do not claim to own any of this (plot excluded).
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We sat in the living room on the couch, barely three inches from each other, watching Pulp Fiction for the third time that month. I was quiet – thinking about Quil and myself…again. Of course he noticed. Damn his observance skills.
"Hey," he said, leaning forward to get a better look at my face. "What's wrong?" He placed his now empty Chinese carton on the coffee table along with his chopsticks. How he managed to eat rice with those things, I would never know. "This is your favorite part," he stated.
I looked away from his face. "I have a lot on my mind."
Of course he wouldn't just let it be at that. "It must be big, for you to miss the twist competition."
"It is."
"Want to give me a hint?" He asked gently. He was trying hard to catch my eyes. I studied the world outside the window for a moment. It was still drizzling lightly. I knew that if I looked at him I wouldn't be able to resist any longer. My stomach was already doing a million flips a second. 'Just do it,' I told myself, and bit my lip as I faced him. I observed him for a moment. His face was confused…and concerned, and so beautiful.
"More than anything," I told him, and kissed him full on the lips.
Ecstasy. Pure ecstasy. His lips were so warm, and his breath was so sweet in my mouth. He was startled at first, pulling back slightly, but I persisted, so he leaned forward and slid his hands around my waist. He pulled me up, spreading my legs around his torso and sliding me into his lap. Something about Quil seemed torn. He was being rough, but also tense. Like he didn't want to push me too far. Like I was going to run away, and he didn't want that to happen, and yet he couldn't keep himself from acting this way.
I ignored his strange attitude, and bit down on his lip while tugging on the hair at the nape of his neck. I wanted him so bad. My head was swirling, just from being so close to him.
"Quil," I groaned against his mouth. I felt his breathing hitch, and suddenly, he had pulled away from me and moved to the opposite side of the couch. He startled me, causing me to bite down on my tongue. "What?" I asked, holding my hand up to my mouth. "What is it?"
His face was crumpled. But more than that, it was ashamed and appalled and torn. So torn. "Quil," I begged, inching closer to him.
"Stop," he said weakly. I was confused.
"What?"
"Just…just wait a minute," he said firmly, silencing me. I stared at him; puzzled by the expression I had never seen on his face before. He dropped his head down into his palms, and his brown hair tumbled down on top of his hands. I watched as he sighed and waited a few minutes before bringing his face back up to mine.
"Claire," he groaned, reaching up to tug at a strand of hair beside my ear. I wrapped my hand around his, and he brought his pained eyes to mine in response. "What do you know about imprinting?"
"Imprinting?" I thought for a moment. "Nothing. I've heard it mentioned once or twice…" I trailed off, thinking again and looking into the distance. "No one has ever explained it to me," I told him, returning my gaze to his face.
It was true. I knew all about the pack. My uncle was the leader of the pack, for heaven's sake. I knew the old Quileute legends, but whenever I was younger and asked about imprinting I got the typical "We'll tell you when you're older" response, and eventually I simply lost interest.
"I'm going to explain it to you. Right now."
