I do not own Blood and Chocolate. LOVE the story though. I was rooting for Gabriel the whole way!

Jonas:

No, not one year could ever get that strawberry scent out of my head. Or my nose, I guess. Layla did manage on her own just like Katrina and Tommy had promised. They were my personal babysitters, one or the other was always following making sure I didn't sneak away to visit her. They ran with me. They went to class with me (my father had pulled some strings), and now there were silent alarms on the entire house.

It was a little more than annoying. Now I was the pack mate with the problem. People couldn't leave me alone, because I might run away. Even Aunt Marille wouldn't leave, even though she wasn't technically part of the pack my father asked her to stick around in case he needed to know some information about LWS (lone wolf syndrome, that's right. They made it an abbreviation. Could be worse I guess. They could have called it Jonas Disease or something.)

In the beginning it was difficult to control the monster. I blacked out a lot during the first few months and tried to run to her house. In which I was always caught and dragged back home. But nothing ever happened at school. I was most contented there because I could see her and smell her and know she was doing fine. Call me obsessed, but I had perfect attendance.

I guess some good came out of this. Tommy and Katrina were officially dating. My father was looking to them to be the new Alphas because, you know, there was no way I could now. However, those two being my babysitters was obnoxious because they were all over each other, one eye on me, other eye on one another. It was kind of gross. I hoped I hadn't looked so pathetic the one and a half days we were together.

And then there's Layla.

Its hard not to sigh when I think about her.

Layla didn't grow much in height, but her slender body gained a natural curve that she didn't accentuate like her two sisters. Instead of dying her hair a mousy brown, she opted for a brown with tinted red. Her hair was longer now and occasionally she curled the ends, otherwise it was in a constant state of pony tail. She still dressed plain, but she didn't look plain. She could be as stunning as her sisters, but I thought her glasses gave her a subtle charm.. Then again maybe it was just me, after all, I was biased. Her legs were a little longer and the curves gave her an unintended swagger to her step. Not that I was looking...

Okay, I was. But all I could do was look! I couldn't talk to her. I couldn't be next to her. I couldn't even be there to save her when a stray football hit her dead on and gave her a concussion the day before winter break! All this torture had taught me agonizing restraint. But restraint only goes so far.

Layla:

I turned out to be quite the busy person once I stopped reading so much. I wrote a column in the school newspaper, found a new love for animals of all sorts (and became vegetarian), and tutored in my spare time. Granted most of the time it was one of my sisters and it was my parents that forced me to tutor them, but occasionally one of their friends came looking for help.

Other than that, I still had no life. I still sat around by myself reading when I had the time and I only had two more years until graduation. I had to go to a university, as much as I loved my sisters I was not going to community college just to stick around with them.

My love life? Ha! Love life... That's funny.

My sisters were still always looking to set me up with football players and the drummer of the coolest band. Apparently looks don't account for taste. I've talked to those people and there's not much going on in their brain other than loud music or sport statistics. I was beginning to wonder if all guys were like that.

But I knew better from first hand experience that some guys were not idiots. I still thought about Jonas. It was hard to ignore when you catch a pair of eyes glancing at you from across the quad, then try to look away pretending to do some math homework. He still looked at me, which made me feel special, but also sad because I remembered how hard it was that day when it felt like my whole galaxy had collapsed on itself. That fateful day one year ago was known between my sisters and I as "The Freak Seat Incident."

Jonas grew up a LOT in the past year. I mean, that kid shot up like four inches in height. His jaw became more masculine and he'd cut his hair in a sideways, emo angle. I wasn't fond of the look compared to his boyish charm I'd seen when we had a fondness for one another, but his overall look made up for it. His muscles had grown (I guess he started working out) and his hair was dyed black like the rest of his friends. He still wasn't as punk or Goth as his friends, but he often wore black muscle t-shirts and his jeans were always torn and frayed.

I will admit that walking away it was hard to ignore the butt an underwear model would kill for. Yes, I looked. There's nothing wrong with being attracted to an attractive guy, even if you did have a history. A short, wonderful history that still entered my mind from time to time... to time to time... and some more time. Okay! I'm a little bit stuck on the guy, that's allowed isn't it?

I sighed. Maybe I really did need a boyfriend to get my mind off of him.

Currently I was watching my feet, hand on one backpack strap on my shoulder. I still didn't have a car. There was no relenting from my parents on that issue. But walking gave time for my thoughts to dwell elsewhere. I thought about that day when I wore the "Naughty Secretary" outfit, then being all snuggled up in my PE clothes. I started to cross the street.

"Look out!" someone shouted. My head snapped up. Oops! I had crossed the street at the wrong time. A car had been pulling into the street I was cross. It screeched to a halt. I looked at the maroon red old convertible. The guy inside it stuck his head out the window.

"Bitch! Watch where you're-!" he stopped in his sentence suddenly. I didn't recognize him. He and I met gazes. He had short blonde hair, blue eyes. From the size of his muscles that were practically hanging out of his car he was either a jock, a delinquent , or both. I blinked at him and slowly moved out of the way, my heart still racing from the near death experience.

A flare of anger raised up inside me.

"Don't be an ass," I spat at him, raised my head and continued towards school. Of course, I hated confrontation so I didn't dare look back. The car sped by as I made my way to school with the other endless crowds of kids. But I saw icy blue eyes in the rearview mirror as it roared away.

I'm having fun with this story. Tell me what you think, if you think something should happen let me know. I take everything in reviews into consideration.