sorry about the two month wait! i was in england visiting my grandma without computer useage...so SORRY!! but here it is! chapter nine!!

Disclaimer: S.M. owns everything...though the way the characters act and reason in my story is all MINE!! hahahahahahah!!

Realization

Isabella Swan

I dream I'm walking in a forest--a deep dark forest that I know, but can't remember…Every tall, mossy tree I pass pricks at my hidden memories, fighting against the steel walls that bind them.

A growl sounds behind me and I feel soft fur brush the skin on my neck, warmth pulsing through my bones; spreading an odd sense of calm through me. I can sense someone walking beside me; feel the swish of clothing and the shift in the air as they move beside me, matching me pace; smell a soft woodsy scent flowing off the person's warm body. The fur on my neck is replaced by smooth, scalding hot skin.

My dream changes in a flash. I blink and the forest is gone, replaced by an empty, silent round room made up of strange black bricks--this room, too, is familiar. The air is cooler here, filled with a tangy, delicious scent like roses or honey mixed with the smell of a mucky swamp or fresh mud and pine.

There comes a hiss from behind me, a flood of cold air like a shift in the wind on my shoulder. I turn sharply, looking into the eyes of a pale-faced man; who's eyes glow a dark ruby, with flowing black hair falling over his gaunt face. He places one bone-like hand on my shoulder, his nails curving like claws into my skin.

I try to jump away from this man; this hideously beautiful man, but I can only strain my body towards the smooth walls. I look down to find my hands white as they strain against thick rope cords, my ankles tugging uselessly from their positions against the legs of my chair.

The man's grip tightens, his rough hold excruciatingly tight, yet his skin is like velvet brushing against my arm.

"You can try to escape, my dear, but you'll never get farther than a foot before I catch you," he sneers at me as he steps gracefully in front of me. "You cannot possibly defeat me; I'm too strong."

Fear is no doubt clear on my face. He smiles, showing bone-white teeth through scarlet red lips. "Please," I beg; I can't help myself. "Please, don't kill me."

He chuckles, and the sound is like an organ. "Don't worry, my dear,"--why was he calling me that?--"It will come fast, no pain. No one will even hear you scream."

"I doubt that."

My heart jumps to my throat at the familiar voice. A picture of him jumps into my head; tall, lean, auburn-black hair, large dark brown eyes, wide, full lips.

I gulp. Paul.

My tormentor glances up with a frown. "Who--" he begins, but then he disappears. There's a flash of silver, a crash, and then the pale-skinned man is crouched against the wall, his fingers curled into claws on the ground as rubble falls from his shoulders. Chunks of the black bricks behind him are missing. He races forward, towards me, his lips pulled back into a snarl.

I can only close my eyes and gasp in panic. "Paul!" I want to scream, but no words come out.

There's another ear-splitting thud; like thunder rolling over the mountains, and the man is once again crouched against the wall, a piece of his shoulder missing instead of the bricks. His eyes are fixed on Paul, standing directly before me in a similar position, his fingers twitching at his sides like he's playing the piano; a chunk of what looks like white stone clenched in his right hand. He tosses it to the side and it clatters along the floor like a rock.

They clash against, though this time Paul is forced backwards with the force of the attack. He turns to gaze at me with those warm black eyes, and all my worries melt like warm honey. I smile at him despite our surroundings, and he returns it with a whimsical grin. There's a growl, and he turns back to face my attacker, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

There comes an unmistakable cry of pain, and his hand falls to his side as his body folds in on itself on the stone floor. I cry out in horror.

"Paul!" the sound comes out as a whisper.

A smear of blood shows faintly against the dark tone of his clenched fist. The man leans over his motionless body and licks at the crimson liquid; then he glares up at me, and his eyes are bright ruby.

"Paul." I whisper as he crouches over me. His lips press to my throat, and I sink into darkness.

I wake slowly, drifting into consciousness by the lulling sound of a soft, familiar voice; one that sends chills of pleasure through my body. I stay motionless, concentrating on making my breathing stay even and slow.

"Bella." he whispers back. I hear the creak of wood as he shifts his weight to lean through my window.

I clasp my eyes tighter for a second, breathing out loudly in a gust of peace. I half smile to myself, then open my eyes and roll over to face him. "I knew you were there," I whisper, smiling calmly at him.

His eyes bug out of his head, and he freezes momentarily and I can almost hear his heart pounding away. In half a second he's shifted his position into a crouch; his fingers clenched on the sill to spring away, his eyes fixed on my perplexed face.

I watch in awe as he tightens his muscles--muscles someone his age shouldn't even have--and at the sheer length of his body. Surely no one grows that much within the age length of seventeen years! My heart pounds away like his, a strange feeling of longing in it that I've never felt before. I want to jump up and slam the window shut; lock him in here forever. I want him to hold me close to his chest like earlier today as he carried me; to feel his warmth on my skin all the time…But why? Why do I want that? I'll probably never know.

Suddenly his body moves to spring from the window, his eyes averted from me to the ground below. As if like a magnet, my body moves with his, shifting my weight to my left side as I try to lung after him.

"No!" I yell, throwing my body over the edge of the bed. My legs struggle to hold up my weight; wobbling with the effort, then they sway at the knees and I collapse in a heap on the floor, my heart pounding blood through my stinging legs. An image of Paul's startled face is emblazoned on my eyelids, a look of pure horror plastered on his brow.

I hear Charlie in the other room, his heavy breathing abruptly stopping and then the loud footfalls as he hauls himself down the hall. Panic tears through me, and I turn to see Paul paused in the window, his face uncertain.

I raise one hand out to him, "Wait!" I call, but his brow hardens as the floorboards creak outside my door, and he throws himself out the window. I don't even hear him hit the ground.

"Bella?" Charlie calls through the ajar door, "Can I come in, honey? Are you okay?"

I sigh, glance once more out through the swaying curtains, and turn to my father. "I'm fine…Dad. I just fell out of bed, can you help me?"

An awkward silence passes between us, then he shuffles in and we begin the difficult process of getting me back in bed. When finally Charlie is sweating, red-faced, but undoubtedly proud of himself, with me in bed situated amongst my pillows, I gaze longingly out the window, questions unearth themselves.

Why was he in my room, watching me? Why did he run when I caught him? I frown and Charlie follows my gaze.

"Is everything alright, honey?" he turns his torso to crane his neck out the window. "I can stay until you fall asleep, if you want?"

"Um…No, Dad. I'm fine, really. I just thought I saw something…"I glare once more out the moonlit window, then I ask Charlie to close it.

An hour later, as I lie in bed, I hear the howl of a wolf; low and resounding, the sound of an animal mourning the end of night. Then, finally, sleep takes me.

--

"How you doing, Bells?"

I glance up at the top of Jacob's head, then at his fingers twisting and untwisting a corner of my blanket. "I'm fine," I whisper, watching his bobbed hair swing back and forth around his chin.

He sighs and nods solemnly. "You need something?"

I glance up at him at the same time that he does. We both look away; him blushing. "No," I whisper, rubbing a bit of fuzz between my fingers.

His eyebrows raise but he continues to play with the fringe on my blanket. "You wanna tell me something?"

I shake my head, "No."

He sighs again, and I look up to see him watching me with confused, angry eyes. "Then what do you want, Bella?" he waves his free hand in the air, "I mean, you had Charlie call me out of school to talk to you, so what do you want?"

Shrinking slightly into the pillows, I return to playing with the fuzz ball. "I just…just…"

"What, Bella?!"

"I just…wanted to know…how…" I glance up at him and hold his gaze, "I just wanted to know how Paul was doing." A huge weight lifts from my chest. Finally, I got it out.

Jacob's brow furrows and he stares out the window for a minute, his nostrils flare and then he glances at me from the corner of his eye. "He was here…wasn't he?"

I nod, remembering. "Last night. I don't know why, though. He left before I could ask him anything."

I watch as his head absentmindedly bobs as he stares out the window, his mouth wording something I can't make out. Finally he turns to me again, sighing.

"Do you know why, Jacob?"

He drops his eyes immediately. "No."

"Well…" I bit my lip, "Could you ask him then?"

His head jerks up, his eyes peering down at me strangely; then they brighten and his lips partially lift into a smile. "No. But you could." he smiles and retrieves his keys from his jeans. He jangles them and grins, "I could drive you down there right now, too. School's almost out, anyway…though Paul rarely goes there anyways."

"What about…" I glance down at myself; a lump under the blankets. I rephrase, "…Charlie?"

He grins again and hops up from the bed; it bounces and rises without his weight. "Don't worry, I'll take care of him." he heads for the door, "Get ready, I'll be back in three minutes, tops."

--

"Here you go. Now watch your step!"

I grimace and slid down the last foot or so of sand. "Ouch!" I hobble on one foot with Jacob supporting my weight until the pain reseeds from my ankle. I glance down at it and place it gingerly back on the ground amid a pile of driftwood. "Being crippled is not fun!"

Jacob chuckles beside me and winds his arm around my shoulder so I can hobble to level ground. "I can always carry you, like I said." Something in his voice sounds vaguely hopeful; he holds out his free arm to me, grinning.

A poker face flashes across my face, "No thanks. I've been carried enough in the last month to last me a lifetime! I'd rather hobble."

Jacob bits his lip but holds out his hand to me. "You never minded him carrying you--" He glances at me and clamps his mouth shut.

"Him?" I ask, "Who's Him?" The only guys I know that have carried me--or in Charlie's case, tried to carry me--are Jacob, Dr. Cullen, and …Paul. I gulp and my heart reacts to his name.

I look up to see Jacob scrutinizing my face. His face turns grim. "So what do you want to do until Paul gets here?"

I ignore his attempt to sway me from my former subject, and simply reply, "What's there to do around here?"

Jacob laughs and tows me around a rough bit of rock, and around a sharp corner. "Sitting is the only thing I had in mind for you."

I frown, "Then what are you going to do?"

He grins and tightens his grip on my hand, "You'll see."

--

I squeal as another torrent of water sprays out from the beach, soaking me in its foaming droplets. "Jacob!" I wipe at my eyes and arms.

Booming laugher echoes out from the water, but I can't spot his face anywhere amongst the spiraling waves.

"Where are you?!" I blink water from my eyes and peer out through the mist. "Jacob!"

Another torrent of water whips into my face, dripping down the front of my shirt. "Okay! This isn't funny anymore!" I flick water from my finger tips.

A warm hand flitters over my arm, flicking water from my skin. "Sorry. Guess I got a little carried away." Jacob grins down at me, and crouches down to join me on the now soaking blanket laid out across the pebbles. "You should have seen your face, though! It was priceless! You looked like a half-drowned cat!!"

I grimace and curl my arms around my knees, shivering. "If that's what you say…" My teeth chatter.

Jacob scrutinizes my face again for a second, his eyes wandering over my sunken and wet face. Then he grins, flashing his teeth at me. "Awe come on, Bells! It was just a bit of fun!" He wipes hastily at my bare knees and laughs. "Hilarious fun, too!"

"I'll bet it was."

We both freeze, then turn in synchronization. There, towering over us, stands Paul; his hands balled into fists at his sides, his brow furrowed as he scrutinizes us from seven feet above. I glance down immediately as his gaze latches onto mine; Jacob merely laughs and leaps to his feet in a surprisingly graceful movement for someone so tall.

He clasps Paul on the arm, "Hey there, brother. We were waiting for you." he turns to grin at me and winks, "We got kinda bored, though."

I smile blankly up at him. Now that Paul's here, I wish I were somewhere else. What if I make him angry? What if he won't answer my questions? Will Jacob stay with me if I ask?

He answers my unspoken question as he waves good-bye. "Have fun!" he yells, already striding away down the beach. I wave until he's lost in the fog, and take a deep breath before turning my attention to Paul.

He's watching me--appraising me, more like--with those deep brown eyes that I dreamed off the night he was in my room. His hands, at least, are no longer balled up, but hanging limply at his sides; his fingers gripping the baggy sides of his jeans.

I sigh and meet his gaze, holding my eyes with his for the longest seconds in my life. Then my tongue kicks into gear. I don't know how long he'll comply to my questions. "You were in my room last night." The words were meant to be demanding and stating, but when they come out they seem dead and naïve.

He raises an eyebrow at me, "Yes?" The end of his only word tingles like he was thinking it as a question. My thoughts falter as his eyes bore into mine.

Chicken through and through, I look down at my feet, playing with a loose string on my jean-shorts. "Why?" I ask innocently, pulling on the thread.

I sneak a glance at him and he's still watching me; a grin spreading across his face. "Why not?"

His response takes me by surprise, and my tongue jumps into retaliation mode. "Because it's my personal space, and I want to know why!"

The centers of his eyes tighten the slightest bit at my words. This time he looks away from me, to the ocean rolling in waves and crashing upon the shore. I can almost see his mind working overtime; trying to determine whether to tell me the truth or not. The gears in his head click as he looks back down at me.

"I was worried about you," his voice falters in the middle, then jumps up an octave. "I wanted to make sure you got settled okay."

I glare up at him with scrutinizing eyes, "So you climbed up to my two-story window, and watched me sleep?!" He winces and takes a frantic step back. "Why didn't you just use the front door like normal people? Or better yet, wait until morning?!"

His nostrils flare, and his hands are balled into fists as he speaks the words that make my heart stutter. "Because I couldn't wait that long to see you."

I draw back with my mouth slightly open, watching as his eyes turn from anxious, hard rock, to liquid gold in a split second.

He takes a tentative step closer, "Because I didn't want you to know I was there…watching over you." His eyes melt and shimmer like butterscotch and honey.

My breath catches in my throat, and my body responds to the cold water and wind on my skin at the same moment that my nerves decide to involuntarily shudder. I wrap my arms hastily around my knees and draw them painfully to my chest to stop the shivers. He might not have noticed if my teeth hadn't started chattering then; then again, maybe he would have.

"You're cold." his voice isn't plain and unresponsive like I expected. It's appalled. He shoots a glance up the beach where Jacob disappeared and mutters something to himself that sounds like a long rant of profanities. He pauses, grits his teeth, then meets my gaze as another shiver rolls through me. His shoulder rolls back and he shrugs off his jacket.

And it is then, as he pulls off his coat, that I realize that I've never noticed anything past him always wearing jeans. I'm always so preoccupied with his eyes and facial expressions that I never really look at him. I make myself look now.

He's wearing a gray t-shirt with tight long-sleeves that accentuates his semi-muscular chest, and that falls over the large pockets of his dark blue jeans. The bottoms of his pants are tucked into the back of his tennis shoes to keep them dry. He looks everywhere else but me as he folds his black jacket in half and passes it to me.

"Here," he says. I shiver again and take it from him, accidentally touching the back of his hand. Immediately he draws back, leaving the coat in my hand, and his eyes are glaring down at me. "Why are you so cold all the time?!" his voice is appalled again, "Don't you ever wear a jacket?"

I smile wryly, "I don't remember ever wearing one. But I probably did once."

He studies me for a second, then gestures at the coat in my hand. "Put it on."--another shudder passes through my body--"Before you catch a cold."

I nod, my teeth mashing together in violent force, and slip it around my shoulders. Immediately I feel the warmth seep into my skin. Inside it smells amazing--like every mouthwatering thing you've ever smelled mixed together into one unique scent--in truth it feels like it was just retrieved from a dryer, it's so warm. I keep my hands inside the too-long sleeves and wrap them around my knees.

I sigh and inhale the heavenly scent again. "Thanks," I mutter.

Paul shoves his hands into his pocket, his shoulders rigid. "Yeah, well, I figured it would be on my permanent record if I let a girl freeze to death right in front of me." he smiles down at me, "Anyways…Is this seat taken?" He gestures at the empty space on the blanket next to me.

"Oh. No, sit, of course. I don't care." My heart reacts, though, when he flops down beside me and his skin is within two inches of my own.

We watch the water roll and slosh for an immeasurable minute before he finally break the silence.

"You wanted to talk to me?"

I glance at him from the corner of my eye, but he's still watching the water with rapt attention. And I notice that his arms are wrapped around his knees like mine. "Yes?" I ask, wary.

He plays with the knees of his pants, his eyes down cast. "What about? Besides the fact that I'm a stalker."

That stops me in my tracks. What did I want to ask him? What could have possibly driven me to such lengths as to have Charlie drag Jacob from school so I could ask him how Paul was, then agree to go with Jacob when he suggested I talk to Paul myself? What did I come all the way here for? Why am I so enraptured with this strange, beautiful boy? Then I know, as I remember talking in his car the day before.

"I don't really know…except that when I talked to you in your car yesterday…well, I felt like you were the only one who would answer my questions without sidestepping the actual question." I grin wryly at him; he smiles back, slightly wary. "You, like Jacob, have no regard for my feelings." At once he goes rigid, his shoulders shuddering like he's been hurt. I stare at him in shock, until he finally smiles again and relaxes his pose; his hand remains clenched on his knee.

"Anyway," I continue, shooting a glance at his stretched tendons, "I guess I came here because I wanted answers to my questions." I shake my head in exasperation, "You can't imagine how annoying it is to not know anything!"

I turn my head to see he's smiling wryly at me, his eyebrow raised. His eyes twinkle mischievously, "I can't imagine. But I do wonder…Did you get your questions answered?"

I sigh, "Nope. Just more dumb questions."

He chuckles and appraises me; my half dried clothes, my little stubble of hair dripping water down my face. "And you got wet."

I half-smile and wipe half-heartedly at my wet legs, then my arms. "Yeah, well, Jacob got bored, so I was chosen to entertain him with my amazing half-drowned cat impressions." I blink and reach up to swat away a pesky water droplet from my eyelid.

Paul chuckles, but his mouth remains somehow in a perfectly straight line. He waves my hand away, "Here, let me." He pulls the sleeve of his shirt over his palm and presses it to the droplet.

My hands drop numbly into my lap as I strain all my senses onto just him. How warm his skin is even through his sleeve, how his eyes blaze as he catches another stray drop on my temple, and how the mouthwatering scent of him is increased to excruciating pleasantness as he leans closer to me.

His hand slides down my eyebrow, then glides over my temple once more before slowly drawing down my cheek. At the last minute his wrist twists, and then I feel his soft skin on my cheek; warming me and sending my heart into an erratic panic.

It glides smoothly to my chin, where it shifts and then his hand is cupping my face; his thumb rubbing my cheek. It is then, as I feel his warm, succulent breath on my face, that I realize that, while he is leaning into me, I am leaning into him.

Our eyes meet for the slightest, yet longest minute I've ever experienced, then he inclines his head, and his lips touch mine.

At first, all I can feel is my blood pounding through my veins and my heart completely haywire in my chest. Then I delve deeper into myself, and feel the serenity that is the reason for my body's panic.

His lips move against mine softly; slowly pressing again and again to my own, his right hand moving to cup my other cheek. It feels like his warmth is everywhere; everything. It pulses from his hands, down my neck; from his lips moving ever-so-gently on mine.

He leans in ever-so-slightly, drawing my face closer to his, while his body shifts over mine. That's when it hits me.

I see it all as a slide show. Me, happy--joyful even--wrapping my arms around someone's neck. I press my lips to there's, softly, gently, testing. A body slides over mine--like Paul's now--and a cold body presses to mine feverishly. Our lips meet again. Then sharp, pointed, cutting nails bite into my shoulders. I feel warm liquid drip down my arms, and then my body is thrown against a wall. My body is beaten; stabbed and kicked bloody by those same cold hands. And then I feel the pain; the pain I've felt for a month now, as my bones re-grow together and my bruises reseed.

I jerk away from the warm lips, the warm body leaving; shifting away from me. I open my eyes to see Paul then, leaning away from me on his elbows; like me away from him. He's also watching me, with those same saddened brown eyes.

He breaths heavily, glances down, then meets my gaze again with those pained eyes. He swallows. "I'm sorry, Bella," he whispers, his voice hoarse. "Are you okay?"

My body shakes uncontrollably; from the flashback or from the impulsive kiss I don't know, but it shakes and throbs. My lips feel warm and moist; unusual. I reached up hastily and wipe at them with the back of my hand. My eyes never leave his.

"Bella," he says again, louder. "Bella, are you okay?" He reaches out to me, but I shrink reflexively away, staring down his hand like a poisonous snake. His fingers curl into a ball and he returns it to his side, his eyes agonized. "I'm sorry, Bella," he repeats, "I'm so sorry."

He reaches out to me again, this time for my hand. My mind over-loads, "Stay away from me!" I scream, "Don't touch me!" He shrinks away, still watching me, as my voice resounds down the beach.

Then I hear the voice I've been wishing for. "Bella?! Paul?" Jacob jogs up with his hair windblown and disheveled--probably from sleep. His gaze flickers from me to Paul; from Paul to me, trembling. "What happened?"

Me and Paul meet gazes again, both of our eyes uncertain. Should we tell him the truth? Or say everything is fine? You're not fine, though, my brain screams at me, You've just been kissed by an almost-complete stranger, and you're shaking uncontrollably.Get out of here!!

My head flicks up, taking advantage of Jacob's appearance. "Jacob? Can you take me home now?"

His eyes widen, then flick to Paul and back again. He shrugs, "Sure. Did you find out all you wanted?"

"Plenty," I assure him. "I'm just getting really tired!"

"Yeah, okay," he shrugs again. "You ready?"

"Yep." I reach out my hand to him and he gently pulls me under his arm; supporting me again. "Bye, Paul."

I turn my head slightly as Jacob speed-walks me up to his house, and catch a glimpse of Paul still sitting on the blanket, his head sunken into his hands, his body shaking.

well...how did you like it? also, how many time do you think i used some form of "scruntinize"? haha! it was the only word that fit everywhere for like two pages! please R&R! i like to know what people think i should do next and from who's POV it should be from...so if you have any good ideas please let me know! i might put them in and give a cudos!!

heehee! i'm so proud of this chapter! they have real conversations! not just, "Hi. Hi. How are you? Good. How are yo? Good. Great." they talk!! i tried to put in more action without describing every little detail of what they do. do you think it worked??

also...did you get the part where she finally looks at his clothes? that's one of the parts i kinda half-stole from the book Twilight..where Edward takes her out for dinner and he offers her his jacket. yep. i didi that on purpose...but i'm not claiming that part as mine! it is totally S.M.'s!!

the next might be from Alice's...i'm not sure...or maybe one of the werewolves...?

Isabellthelooser (cudos to all that have reviewed so far! it is thanks to your positive input that i buckled down today to finished this!)