Title: Too Late
Genre: Angst/Romance
Rating: T or M (just for language)
Pairing: Paul and Bella
Words: 500 even
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Prompt: "I refuse to be one of your regrets."
AN: This is from the same universe as my Paul/Charlie drabble, Delinquent, that is in chapter 26 here. Still trying to work out a direction for a full story… eventually ;)
And if you didn't see it, I posted a new Paul/Bella one shot called Hard at Work. It's much fluffier than this week's drabble ;)
~oOo~oOo~oOo~oOo~oOo~oOo~
Too Late
She didn't look surprised to find him waiting on her front steps when she got home from school. Paul seemed to follow her as much as he avoided her, like a warm, dark shadow to Edward's cold and fair. They both pushed her away and drew her in, in very different ways. Today she was determined to get an answer from Paul.
Her small white hand covered his own oil-and-dirt-stained fingers quickly—without warning—and his eyes were immediately drawn to the differences. She was innocent, pure, and he was dirty from the day he was born. There was no world in which he deserved her.
He shot her a glare that made his wolf growl at him internally, but it was better this way. If he didn't get close to her, he couldn't hurt her—or Charlie—and she couldn't hurt him.
Despite the increase in her heartbeat, she didn't show an outward reaction to his apparent hostility. Instead, she inadvertently challenged his wolf by lifting her little head and staring him straight in the eye, trying to let him know she had no intention of backing down.
Instead of rising to the challenge, his traitor wolf was fucking purring at the show of spirit from his 'perfect mate.' Wonderful. Just one more part of him that was taken in by a Swan.
"Paul?" She took another step toward him, walking as carefully as if she were approaching a wild animal. He couldn't hold back a snort of laughter at the mental comparison.
"Paul, please." He was frozen between the pleading look in her eyes and the soft comfort of her hand on his. When she looked down at his lips, his wolf took control and leaned in.
He knew he had to be gentle—this was his entire world, his most precious cherished treasure. He lifted his free hand to tangle in her hair, unable to keep his fingers from combing through the silken strands he'd been dreaming of for weeks.
His head tilted to the right and hers turned to mirror him in a move so synchronized it seemed choreographed. She sucked in a quiet breath of anticipation, pulling his scent into her mouth just before his lips touched hers.
In a show of infinite patience, he pressed his lips against hers softly, gently, not pressing her for more until she opened her mouth enough for him to slip his tongue carefully through. He moaned in quiet ecstasy as her unique flavor filled his senses, and he pulled her body tight against his as her own hands worked frantically at his arms and back.
When she moaned his name, whimpering in pleasure, he pushed her forcibly away with an audible growl. "No, Isabella! Stop! I won't do this." He closed his eyes and took two steps away before adding quietly, "I refuse to be one of your regrets."
He was almost to the trees when her eyes filled with tears, but he heard her whisper, "Too late."