I do not own the The Twilight Saga. All copyrights go to Stephenie Meyer.
Thank you for reading. Please don't forget to review/favorite. New ideas are always welcome!
"Need help?"
I look up from the floor, finding Embry standing behind me as I hold several books in my lap, a box in front of me sitting half full.
"Oh. Uh..." I glance back at the shelves in front of me and shrug, letting my eyes fall back to the books in my lap. "I guess so."
Without a sound he steps to the side and sits, his knee touching mine. Pulling an empty box to his side, he begins stacking books into it without a second glance, though he stops when he catches me staring. "What?"
"Nothing." I turn my head back to my own work and close the book I had open, putting it into the box before pulling a few others up from my lap and setting them in the box.
He pulls a few more books from the shelves and sets them in his box, taking a moment before turning to look at me. "What're you thinking?"
"I don't know." I shrug honestly, absentmindedly opening the next book and flipping through the pages. "I've never really had to share an entire living space. It seems like a big step."
"I mean... I guess it kind of is?" From the corner of my eye I see him tilt his head to the side, and turn to look at him as he shrugs. "It's just kind of... different... for people like us. We don't really have to guess if we're supposed to be together, you know?" He smiles weakly, turning to tuck another book into his box.
"I suppose that's true." Putting the next book into my box, I close the boxes flaps and reach for a roll of tape. As I pick at the end of the tape, I glance over at Embry, watching as he looks at the spines of my books.
"These don't have titles, or are they just that old?" He looks at me, two books in his hands, as I frown slightly.
"They're journals." I pull a length of tape from the roll, bite at the corner of it with my teeth, and tear the piece off, taping down the flaps of my box.
"Oh." He lowers the books he's holding in his lap, as though he's not quite sure what to do with them now.
"After awhile it got difficult to recall things I wanted to remember, so I decided to start writing them down." Pushing the taped up box to the side, I rub my hands on the legs of my jeans before setting them in my lap, gazing at him.
"Like what?" He blinks at me, and I feel slightly taken back.
"Uh... well, my parents. Where our home was and what it was like. Those sort of things."
"You mean you didn't just naturally remember your parents?" I shrug as he watches me, my fingers linking together in my lap.
"I think the venom effects some parts of your brain... eventually recalling human memories gets more and more difficult until they're no longer there."
"Oh..." He looks down at the cover of one journal, as though trying to read through the leather. "Well... what were your parents like, then?"
Taking a deep breath, I exhale slowly. Alec - the instant I think of his name, my chest aches - and I never permitted ourselves to linger on the thoughts of our parents. After all, they were gone, and even if they had not been, there was no way for us to rejoin them. Taking a look up at Embry, I frown slightly, unsure of what's safe to tell him. "My parents were wonderful, but life was very different when I was born. People didn't live as long. My father died when we were very young, and my mother..."
I trail off, unable to stand the sound of my own voice shaking. "It's alright." The tone of his voice for once does not break the tension, and I slowly shake my head in response.
"My mother was incredible. She loved us immensely. But she died only a few months before we did."
"Oh..." I glance up slowly, watching as Embry sets both of the journals down gingerly and puts his hands in his lap, his eyes on mine for a moment. "I'm sorry. Was it like a... like an illness, or...?"
Biting my bottom lip, I take a deep breath and sigh. "The village we lived in accused her of being a witch, so they killed her. A few months later, they did the same to us. Our... family... saved us before it was too late."
"Holy shit." I look up at him and frown, weakly shrugging my shoulders. "How did they do it?"
Pulling my eyes from his, I look back at the half empty shelves and shake my head, the pain of that memory clawing into the forefront of my thoughts. "You don't want to know."
"That bad?" From my peripherals I can see him tilt his head as I pull more books off of the shelf, sliding an empty box closer to me and setting them inside.
Sighing, I turn to look at him, trying hard to keep my voice even. "They burned us alive."
He remains silent, and I wonder what he might be thinking or feeling. "How... how could anyone do that to kids?!" As I watch him, I notice his shoulders shaking ever so slightly, my eyes taking in his demeanor.
"It was a different time, and they were superstitious old fools. They needed something to believe in."
"So they just go around killing kids?!" His body quakes, and the tone in his voice startles me. Pushing the nearly empty box off to the side, I wonder what I can do to help him understand that that time in my life died long ago, and it no longer hurts me the way he must assume it does.
Remembering the dream I had months ago, I slowly get up onto my knees and crawl toward him, climbing on top of his lap in the middle of my cluttered room. There, his body immediately warms mine as I set my chin on his shoulder and he begins to calm, his body no longer trembling after a few long moments. When he is still, he slowly wraps his arms tightly around my torso, holding me to him.
"I'm sorry." He mumbles into my hair, my eyes closing momentarily as I wonder when the last time I spoke of this story was.
"I'm fine." Is that a lie? Moving my head away from his shoulder, I look up into his eyes and smile weakly. "Are you alright?"
He smirks slightly before shaking his head, a small laugh escaping him. "Fine now." His grip on my torso loosens somewhat, and I make to get off of his lap, but it tightens again before I can do so. Looking back at him, his smirk blossoms into a smile. "I like you here."
Smiling weakly, I relax my body for a moment, taking the time to look at the boxes stacked against the walls, and the shelves nearly emptied of my belongings. When my eyes have wandered the room, I quietly mumble, "We should go to sleep."
"Think so?" Embry looks down at me, his eyes searching mine for a moment before his grip tightens even more and I feel my feet suddenly leave the floor. Gasping slightly, Embry laughs as he carries me across the room, dropping me gently onto my bed. "You get ready."
He turns to leave, and as I watch him, I wonder if any part of my past will ever phase him, and if he would be willing to share his with me. It's not until we're both in bed, and more than half asleep, that I realize neither of those things really matter.