So I have a lot of excuses about why I haven't written, but I won't bore you with them, so I'll just apologize and tell you to enjoy!
Much thanks to littlefurrycannibals for helping me get over my little writer's block. Love you, wofey!
Please don't let this turn into something it's not
I can only give you everything I've got…
And I don't know where to look
My words just break and melt
Please just save me from this darkness
"Make This Go On Forever" – Snow Patrol
Bella didn't understand the changes that occurred between her and Paul over the next several weeks.
Every few days, she'd show up at his house, he'd help her through some clumsy yoga positions, ask if she'd been drinking enough water, and then they'd start bickering over something silly until she got too flustered to shout anymore and Paul interrupted to ask if she would make him dinner.
She wasn't quite sure how they'd established that pattern. The first week, Charlie asked what they did. Bella couldn't tell him the names of any of the yoga positions and she felt too stupid to show him, so eventually he gave up and stopped asking questions. He made one unfortunate comment about them being safe, but Bella choked on a piece of chicken and that had been the end of that conversation.
Paul ignored her every time she asked when they could go cliff diving. He'd often change the subject or ask her if she had been jogging like he had suggested.
She hadn't.
He would give her a mock disapproving glare and then change the subject.
She was baffled by his mood swings. One moment he was laughing and joking with her, and then the next he'd snap at her in such a way that she'd get tears in her eyes. Then there was his never-ending sexual innuendo. Paul had been a bit on the pervy side since hitting puberty, but she couldn't stop her face from flushing scarlet each time she'd felt his eyes lingering on her rear.
Warm hands on her shoulders startled her out of her thoughts. Blinking, she looked up to catch Paul staring at her. He looked at her expectantly, like he was waiting for something. His puzzled expression baffled her, and it made her wonder if other teenagers did things like this.
He tilted his head back and barked out a laugh. "Do what? Yoga? Or develop hard-on inducing sexual tension?"
Her mouth fell open. "Wha-?" She sputtered and flapped her hands at him. "I don't even-" She felt her cheeks warm and she slapped her palms over them.
Paul waggled one eyebrow at her suggestively.
Bella squeaked.
And then just as quickly as the flirting had started, it was over. "Ok then." Paul clapped his hands together, his expression suddenly serious. "We're going to move onto the warrior positions."
Her jaw dropped again, but this time, he lifted one finger and pushed gently on her chin. "You should keep that mouth closed, Bells, unless you plan on doing something with it."
This time, Bella screeched at him, balling her hands into fists. "What is wrong with you?" He ignored her, maneuvering legs into a spread stance, her arms over her head. She rolled her eyes. "I feel stupid. And you didn't answer my question."
"You don't look stupid," he replied, his tone bland. He put his large hands around her waist. "Now turn your torso; lower your arms until they're even with your shoulders."
Reluctantly Bella follow his directions, twisting and trying to bring down her arms, only to promptly lose her balance and topple backwards into Paul's solid chest. His grip on her hips kept her in place.
Feeling wobbly, she took a deep breath and straightened her legs. "Thanks, Paul," she sighed, reaching up to pull the tangled hair away her forehead.
His hands didn't move.
"Paul?" A knot of nerves settled in her stomach when he didn't answer.
She squirmed in his grasp, craning her neck to look over her shoulder at him, only to find him staring down at her, his eyes dark.
She swallowed, hard. "Paul?" she said again, but this time, she could barely manage a whisper.
He leaned forward, turning into her body. His nose grazed her jaw line until her head fell back and he tucked his face into the curve behind her ear. She shivered as the soft warmth of his breath against the sensitive skin of her neck. His grasp around her waist tightened, and before she could stop herself, she pushed back against him, drawing a low moan from this throat. "Mmmm, Bells," he murmured, and she can hear his slow, deep inhale of breath. "Wild flowers…"
Bella's eyes flew open, and bile rose from her stomach.
Oh, God. Would she ever find peace from him?
"I'm sorry," she sputtered. She jerked in Paul's arms, pulling away until he leaned back to look at her face. "But wild flowers?"
"Um, yeah?" he replied. He leaned down again and sniffed, his nose angled towards her collar bone. "Like the ones outside? In the grass and meadows and shit? Wild flowers."
Bella felt her throat constrict and a cold sweat broke out over her skin. "Wild flowers?" she screeched, her hands smacking at him. "Wild flowers?"
"Damnit, Bells; What the fuck?" Paul shouted, trying unsuccessfully to dodge her slaps. "Chill the fuck out, damnit! What the hell is your problem?" He finally caught one wrist, and then the other, yanking her back into his body where she had less leverage to swing at him.
"You! You're my problem!" she shrieked. Unable to free her hands, she kicked at him, connecting solidly with his shin.
"Fuck!" Paul snarled, releasing her. "Seriously! What the fuck is wrong with you!" He threw his arms in the air. "One second you're practically dry humping me and then next you freak the fuck out because I tell you that you smell good?! I don't know what the fucking you're smoking, but what the fuck?!" Unable to free her hands, she kicked at him, connecting solidly with his shin.
"I hate you!" She screamed. "You ruin everything!" Hot tears welled up in her eyes, and she brushed them away impatiently. "Everything!" She stomped towards the door, tripping over the end table. "Ahhh!" She cried, kicking at the offending furniture in anger and frustration.
Bella heard Paul sigh, and then his footsteps as he crossed the room towards her. She spun around, holding her hands out as a warning to stay away. "Don't!" She snapped.
Paul stopped walking.
He stared at her, his eyes displaying his confusion, concern, and… dare she say…
Disappointment?
"I have to go," she whispered, feeling suddenly drained as she stood unmoving, her gaze fastened on his.
"You don't have to," he replied softly, crossing his arms and lifting his chin defiantly.
"I have to go," she repeated.
But this time, he said nothing.
Bella watched for a moment longer - part of her hoped he would ask her to stay, but the other half was so frightened that it was a physical effort to get sick right then.
Still nothing.
A sob broke free and she turned quickly, reaching blindly for the door knob. She yanked on it desperately until it opened, and she ran. She didn't know where she was running to, but she had to go somewhere, anywhere.
She ran until her lungs burned, her arms scratched by the passing trees, her breathing heavy. She ran until she couldn't run anymore, and then she collapsed.
And there, sitting in the cold damp sand of First Beach, Bella Swan allowed herself to cry.
