It was 6 a.m. and I hadn't gone to sleep yet. And I really didn't plan on it any time soon. I had finally gotten to the end.

I wasn't as fast of a reader as Claire was, but I had been at this since about 10 p.m., and I figured it was time well spent because I had figured out what had spooked Claire earlier today.

I grabbed the book and ran the 2 miles from her house to mine. I slowed, reaching her window. I could just see the little lump she made under the covers and frowned. The smarted girl I knew and she still got sucked into fairy tales.

I slowly pushed the window up, swinging my legs inside, not closing it as I crossed to her bed. I felt the cold air blowing behind me, but I knew it would prove my point.

I peeled the covers off of her face, crouching beside her bed to see her. Her eyes opened blearily up to mine, her face scrunching when she felt the cold.

"You used to do this when you were little, you know." She rubbed her eyes, still half-asleep.

"Used to do what? Be woken up at un-godly hours by nosy, trespassing werewolves who should be asleep?" and that was Claire at half-power. She was a smart-ass, I loved it. I laughed, pulling off my shoes.

"No. You used to get so invested in the stories that you couldn't separate them from real life." She froze, gazing up at me. I scooted her over, sliding between the covers and pulling her full-length against my body, allowing myself to feel her curves and warmth.

"What?"

I held the book up to her face. She scowled, snatching it out of my hands and tossing it to the other side of the bed.

"It's a stupid book, Quil. I'm over it." She said, twining her legs with mine.

"It's not a stupid book Claire, it's phenomenally well-written. You need to finish it, really, the poetic cadence-" her hand came down on my mouth.

"First, I will not be finishing it. Second, you read it?! Third, where did you learn about poetic cadence?" I kissed her fingers before she lifted them from my face.

"First, your loss. Second, yes. I wanted to know why it bothered you so much. Third, I helped you pass your AP English class. I'm a pro." She looked at me, arching her brow. I continued before she could interrupt me.

"Let me get this straight. You read a book about werewolves that can't control their phasing, only phase in the cold, and are given a limited amount of phasings?"

"English pro my ass, do you realize how horrible that sentence was? How many times did you use the word-"

"So not the point. Do we really need to go back over shape-shifting 101 here? Because I will, but you could probably teach me better than I could teach you." She sighed.

"It just freaked me out, okay? What if you are only allotted a certain amount of phasings? What if one day you're stuck as a wolf? I won't be able to follow you, just like Grace, because I can't be bitten. That only works with blood-suckers, and God knows I won't become one of those." Her hand snaked up the back of my shirt, pressing her palm against the muscles.

"Claire, it's not like in the book. I mean maybe for actual werewolves, but I'm not one. I don't become the wolf in my head when I phase. I'm still Quil. I still know you and can still remember words. As for the limited phasing thing, I think we would have heard about something like that before,right?"

She sighed into my neck, her shoulders relaxing a bit. "You're right."

I smiled. "Yes, I know." She pinched me, a little sting in retaliation. I tipped her head up towards mine.

"If you don't want to finish the book, that's fine. The only shiver you need to worry about," I slid my hand down her neck, making her tremble, "is this." She lifted up just enough to make contact in a perfect kiss. I felt the energy hum through me just as the pink of the sunrise began to creep over the ceiling.

She broke off our kiss, burrowing closer. "It's cold." She said. And I took her word for it, not able to feel it.

"Do you want me to close the window?" I asked, tensing, ready to get up. She tugged me even closer to her, tightening her legs on mine.

"You'll keep me warm."

*

"You'll keep me warm." I said, no longer afraid of the cold. I snuggled into his chest, smelling his musty, evergreen, earthy smell.

In the light of the new day, it all seemed stupid, that I would get so wrapped up in the story. Then I remembered what Quil had said.

"Quil?" I whispered, knowing he was almost asleep. He grunted.

"What did you mean, "you used to do this when you were little"? What do you mean? When?" Quil smiled.

"You get too invested in the story, Claire. At the end of Nemo, you cried because the fish from the dentist's tank couldn't swim free in the ocean cause they were in bags." He chuckled, curling closer around me. "I had to make up a completely new story about how some friendly dolphins came by and found these sharp rocks so that they could cut the bags open."

"That was very nice of you." I said, also snuggling closer, wanting to sink into him as close as possible.

"At the end of Cinderella, you were so upset because the mice didn't get their own castle. At the end of reading The Time Traveller's Wife I couldn't talk to you for days because you were so depressed."

I cringed, realizing it was true. Quil went on, his voice becoming softer.

"That one was the worst, because you loved that book so much. I couldn't snap you out of it. It took days to get my Claire back." I smiled.

"Your Claire?" I asked him, tipping my chin up. He found my lips without opening his eyes.

"My Claire." He mumbled before his breath evened out in sleep. I smiled, tucking my head under his chin. I was his Claire.

I went to sleep in the warmth, letting the cold touch me, but being held in his hot arms, completely content and unafraid. Just before I dozed off, I slid my legs along the edge of the bed, not stopping until I heard the thump of the book hitting the ground.

I never finished it.