Jump In
POV: Embry
For nearly a week, I've been trying to get rid of all this nagging, nervous energy that's been keeping me awake. I haven't seen hide nor hair of Leah for that same amount of time. And since the Cullens left Forks, there hasn't been any reason for Sam to call the pack together. So, with Jake out of commission and Quil doting on the two-year-old, which is just freakishly weird, I am stuck with only myself to occupy my time.
I tried staying home to help my mom around the place, but being constantly underfoot seemed to disconcert her more than when I was prone to late night excursions. I'm volunteering more and trying to convince my boss to give me more hours at the Blue-Green Alliance office for the healthy ports campaign. But my age has them worried about breaking youth employment laws and as it is, they know they'll be asking me to put in lots of time when we begin preparing for our project launch in late August. I still have nearly two months to fill before the promise off all consuming work, school, and maybe even something with Algebra 2 girl will keep my mind occupied.
Who am I kidding?
I haven't been able to get Leah out off my mind since I threw my favorite shirt at her so she could wear it that night.
It was getting tedious, this pining for a girl I'd never have. So, this morning I shoved off my worry about phasing. I'd been afraid that in my wolf-state that I'd accidentally allow the others into my thoughts. It would be humiliating. So, to protect my dignity, I phased before dawn when I knew the others would be safely asleep in human form. I tried to exercise, or rather, exorcise her from my thoughts. Back at home, though, exhausted and sweaty, having run the length of the hunting grounds at least a dozen times at breakneck speed, I found that I'd failed miserably in my attempts to clear my head of her.
So, now, here I am on my bike, motoring up the cliffs...
getting ready to dive.
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POV: Leah
My toes curl around the pebbles scattered a the cliff's edge. I feel the ripple of muscle beneath my skin, my body made beautiful by what I've now come to consider my cruel curse. I stretch my arms over my head...
getting ready to dive.
The mistake I'd made my first jump will never be repeated as my favorite Aqua di Lara swimsuit is very nearly painted on my skin. In essence, there is absolutely no chance of indecency even if the force of my entry into the water might be so powerful as to try to wrench the very hair from my scalp.
I relish the warmth of the sun against me. I bunch the muscles in my legs and vault off the edge of the cliff, lifting myself into the air, resisting the power of gravity for a fraction of a second. And in that time, my heart catches in my throat at the beauty of the feeling of ultimate freedom just beyond the the tips of my fingers. I feel nature's pull against me and I move with it, the wind whistles past my ear as I point my hands and arms down toward the place in the ocean where I expect to enter.
I kick my legs up, with a twisting motion, moving myself into a graceful, downward spiral dive, cutting into the water with nary a splash. The cold water envelops my overheated skin. A shock of iciness, and sudden silence surrounds me. I enjoy both sensations for a moment before I look toward the shining surface above.
I move my arms and legs powerfully against the deep blue, pushing my head above water for my saving breath of air. I make swift and purposeful movements to get myself to shore.
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POV: Embry
I peel off my shirt, throw it on the handlebars of my motorcycle, and turn toward the horizon and the setting sun. I am greeted with the view of a lithe figure making a graceful dismount off the cliff's edge. My breath holds as I witness her, certainly female, body move effortlessly into masterful spiral drive with the clear intent to cleanly pierce the unusually tranquil ocean water below. I speed to where she'd been standing only minutes before. I breathe in her scent.
It is uniquely, Leah.
I looking down into the blue to ensure she'd entered the water safely. I watch as her head breaks the surface and I follow with my eyes her strong strokes that take her back to a secluded shore accessible only to the Quileute cliff divers.
I prepare for my own dive. As though on a springboard, I jump several times, closer and closer to the edge. I never did like heights, which is why I'm out here in the first place. The fear of the jump always has me focusing only on accomplishing it.
Instant mind-clearing.
There is no way I can dive in the way Leah did, with grace and deliberation. I've always had to, needed to, do this with a running leap, eyes closed, and a war cry tearing out of my throat. My limbs generally flail in all directions as I drop like a rock with a mighty crashing splash into the water below. I am quite aware that it's not a pretty sight.
I thought I'd be alone today, so that I could allow myself this wild abandon, and complete the task several times. But I know she is below and quite possibly aware now of my presence. So, I try to play mind games with myself. So, suddenly in my thoughts, I am a professional olympic diver. But the ridiculous image of this only draws a sneer to my already scowling face. I jump a few more times and consider just silently striding off the edge, but I fear coming in contact with the rocky side wall of the cliff if I don't run and jump far enough away.
So, I think the hell with it. I figure there is no impressing the girl I'd like to impress anyway, so I'm going to do it my way.
I back up about three yards. I silently swear at myself, using as many curse words as I know to force me into a heart racing run. I feel the solid ground beneath my feet. I feel the edge of the cliff under my toes. I feel myself go into almost sitting position, pushing off with all the strength of my thighs into the orange red sky.
I am suspended in mid-air.
I try to suppress the yell, but it comes out anyway. I try to control the flailing, but my arms and legs move at their own whim. Then, halfway down, as I feel the sudden drop, my stomach does a turn, as do I, and I inelegantly hit the water, thankfully not on a flop. But certainly with a splash that seems so large as to hit midway up the cliffside.
I propel myself from the ocean's depths with swift kicks, my head breaking the surface for my reward of fresh, salty air. I take a moment to situate myself and begin my slow crawl to shore.
I body surf onto the sandy beach. I feel the droplets of sea water slide down my bare chest and legs as I stand, adjusting my toes as they sink into the sand. I watch her lying there, reclined as though posing for a swimsuit ad. She's as breathtakingly gorgeous as ever, but there's something different about her. With swift strides, I lessen the distance between us in order to make a closer inspection.
As I near, I notice there's something very, very familiar between the sculpted beauty of her backside and the sand.
"You're in my sun," the words slip out of her, velvet, sultry, annoyed. Her eyes are hidden behind dark glasses. The moisture on her skin reflects the golden glint of the setting sun.
"Move." Her single-word command exudes an almost royal boredom.
"And you're lying on my favorite shirt," I accuse in a gravelly voice which, before what had better have been a manly yell over the cliff, had been unused for most of the day.
She tilts her head back, taking in my entire length. I watch her mouth move into a lazy smile. She uses her forefinger, with its coral painted nail, to slowly push down her sunglasses. Her dark brown eyes, search mine. I spy a glint of mischief and seduction in them.
"So, Embry, what exactly are you going to do about that?"
A frisson of desire tears through me. My gut drops, and I know my mouth hangs open while my mind draws a complete blank in answer to her invitation.
