Disclaimer: Not mine. :)

A/N: So I've been listening to Christmas music all morning and it was productive. Here you go. ;)

Peace'n'love

-S

P.S. There was a rather passionate reviewer who said: "WHAT? YOU DONT UPDATE FOREVER , AND ALL YOU GIVE US IS A LAME SEX SCENE AND A SHORT CHAPTER ? BRO . WE DESERVE SO MUCH BETTER !"

They were anonymous but I'd just like to respond and say that I agree completely! It was puny! I'm ashamed, dear reviewer, I'm ashamed. I sort of forgot how long chapters were supposed to be-and this next chapter sort of needed to be it's own entity. I will defend the "sex" scene and say that it was supposed to be lame...sorta. :P But point taken, and many, many apologies! Hopefully this makes up for it, kid. :)

Miss Imprint

Chapter 21: Endings

I saw her before he did. I don't know that I could explain how I knew. I mean she was like everyone else in this restaurant, same black pants, same slightly wrinkled white shirt that you know she pulled out of the laundry basket because she didn't have time to wash her clothes.

She had the same apron with the same creases around the waist where it folded when she sat in the back room, tired from working the floor for far too long.

And she had the same hair—that odd blonde-brown that's so hard to describe and super easy to forget. Kind of like Jennifer Aniston's.

There wasn't anything unique about her. I'd know. I'm an artist. It's my job to observe.

She was pretty much as normal as they come.

It was like an instinct I guess. Kind of like how I knew that Dad wanted tea on Thursdays because Mom used to take time off work to have breakfast with him then. He never told me. But something told me to reach for a tea bag that first Thursday after she left.

But I didn't know I was right until I saw the grateful look on his face.

The minute I saw her, it was like everything slowed down. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She was so small—so fragile and her eyes were hidden behind these thick rimmed glasses—the kind that everyone started wearing once they realized it was cool.

She was addictive.

I guess that was the only way to describe her. She was just one of those people that you couldn't take your eyes off of. There was nothing special that commanded that attention but you gave it to her anyway.

And I knew.

I knew beyond any doubt that she was the one. She was the one that was going to change everything.

Seth was facing away from her and I wandered if I should say I was feeling sick—if I told him that I had an allergy to the nuts in my chicken—anything, then maybe they never would have to meet.

But I didn't.

And so in some twisted, the-universe-just-loves-to-kick-you-in-the-metaphorical-nuts kind of way it was my fault if it happened.

Seth was wearing this really gorgeous royal blue shirt tonight—it was like silk under the fluorescent lighting. God, he was gorgeous.

"How's your food?" He asked.

It killed me to be honest. "It's great." I replied. My voice came out muted and I knew that he would ask.

"Are you okay?" He slid his hand over and flipped mine so that he could run his thumb over my palm.

I memorized the motion. I wanted to remember that—how it felt, how the smooth caress of his skin on mine sent butterflies racing through my stomach.

"I'm fine—I just…" I trailed off, distracted by her again. She was moving closer—two tables away.

The heavy weight of what I'd wanted to tell him, how I felt about him was dragging me down, like an anchor.

But I had a choice to make—and I knew even before I realized what I was saying that I'd chosen him. Because in all my teenage glory and angst, I felt like my world was collapsing and the only thing that made it okay was the knowledge that he'd be happy after all of this.

"I have to tell you something."

He tilted his head, at the serious tone to my voice and nodded for me to continue. The pressure of his hand on mine increased.

"This is really hard, "I let my voice waver. That wasn't hard; she was only a table away now.

He didn't say anything for a moment but his eyes tensed. "All you gotta do is speak." But the smile that followed was halfhearted.

I nodded at him, and grimaced. "The other day—after we fought about, you know, imprinting..." I let my voice drop a little on that word. "I just—I got into a destructive place and I sort of—"my voice broke, this was hands down the hardest thing I'd ever had to do, "messed up."

"Did you break your easel again?" He said lightly, but his voice was bereft of humor.

"No, no, Seth, I messed up big," I swallowed, "I messed around."

His eyes widened, almost comically. And then he shook his head, laughing. "Whatever. What were you actually going to say?"

I love you. "I'm so sorry—I didn't mean to, it's just happened." I tried to look panicked, which again wasn't hard. She'd heard our argument and was frozen behind him. But I saw the way her eyes, glacial blue, traced his broad shoulders, the way her mouth dropped open slightly at the breadth. She was studying him. I wasn't even sure if she'd heard me. But something inside of me was aching fiercely as I watched the way she took him in. It was all-consuming, territorial. Like she was marking him without realizing it.

I didn't realize it was a two-way thing. I didn't realize she'd feel the same pull. That what I felt was seemed negligible by comparison.

"You didn't do it. You can't have. Cass, it's us." His voice was so hurt, so lost. And that thing inside me pulled again, ripped at the seams of my rib cage. Seth's face was drawn tight and I saw his eyes drop to the table. He clenched his fingers. "This isn't-there's something you're not telling me." He looked livened then. "What's going on?"

"I-I don't know what to say." Meek, I sounded meek. I don't think I'd ever been meek in my entire life. "I just...I just messed up."

He deflated. He'd been hoping for something I couldn't say. A part of me was exhilarated. Even if he couldn't know right now, he knew that something was wrong. That I wouldn't just do this to him. And in all of this horrible angst, that one thought was strangely comforting.

"Was it a one time thing?" His voice sounded doubtful—as if he couldn't believe it.

I swallowed hard before nodding my head. "I didn't mean to-I don't know what I was thinking."

He stood abruptly. But I stopped him. If he left that would mean he'd want to cool off and he'd want to make this work. "No—I'll leave, you should stay."

He just shook his head, hard, and then sat down and looked at me. "I can't—fuck Cass. This is us—I mean you know how I feel about you."

"I do—I didn't mean for it to happen." I measured my words carefully knowing how he would react to that.

"That's bullshit—stuff like that doesn't just happen." His voice broke a little and my heart followed suit. "How far did you go?"

I winced, hoping it was believable, provoking him. I needed him to get angry—to want to break up with me.

"Did you sleep with him?" He asked; disbelief etched into his tone.

"I…"I trailed off unintentionally—he needed to believe that I'd slept with him. After everything we'd been through—and how much I'd talked about waiting to make that special—that would be the last straw.

"You slept with him?" His eyes were tight and his voice was wavering now. Shit.

I wanted to take it back—to stop this but I knew this was for the best. He wouldn't be able to leave me—this was the only way. Alice had said so.

I bit my lip, hard, and my eyes filled and as they spilled over I nodded.

"We're done." He said, his words were soft but the betrayal was palpable.

I pressed my hand to my lips before nodding hard and getting up. I pulled a fifty out of my pocket and slid it over—doing my best to ignore the way his hand shifted to avoid my contact.

"I'm sorry." I said again. I love you.

"Me too." He looked at me, suddenly, his eyes full of sorrow and regret. "I thought I knew you."

"You do." I tried to soothe, feeling like I couldn't breathe. This would end us. All of us. But maybe one day—Seth would know that I did it for him.

That I couldn't bear to leave him to make this choice.

Because he was too good, he wasn't like me. He didn't see life so practically. He would have stayed with me until it killed him. He would force himself to remember who he wanted to need, not who he needed to want.

But he'd never be happy like that. This was the only way he'd be able to find it.

"You still do, I'm still the same person." I was focused on the table.

He scoffed, but it was almost a growl. "The Cassie I knew would never have done this to me."

I felt a startling burst of hope then. Maybe he would figure it out one day—and then enough time would have passed that we could still be friends.

But that day was not today. And so I tipped my chin down. "Maybe you didn't know me as well as you thought then."

"No. I guess I didn't." There was steel to the edge of his words and I had to look away. Because it hurt to hear those words come of out his mouth; more than anything else in the world, it hurt. I felt like a knife was twisted in my gut, sawing away at the ragged bits of control I still had.

I passed my gaze over to her, standing there with her freaking doe eyes and innocence. She glared at me but I just tipped my head down in capitulation.

I give, Mother-freaking-Nature. He's all yours.

And I left, keeping my composure until I made it outside. And then I let the howling winter winds guard my tears as I sobbed into the bushes and watched Seth lock his gaze on hers. I watched his eyes widen, his fingers relax on the table. He was enraptured.

I leaned against the scratching stucco walls and peered at them as I saw him gesture at the seat in front of him, his eyes glued to her almost how he looked at me. But there was this unnatural focus to him—like everything else faded and only she mattered.

It was like I never existed.

Just as Alice fucking Cullen had predicted.