Happypocky: Nessie calls both parents by their first names (she started mentally doing this when she came back from Canada—she's back but everything isn't the same, no matter what she does), unless she's talking about them as 'my mother' or 'my father'. She does this for both of them, though based on the contexts in which she usually refers to them, and how I think the sentences would best sound, Bella just tends to get called by her title more.
Chapter 52
"Cowboy boots?"
"They're cute," I defended myself. Not that it stopped Seth from laughing at me, as he stood in front of my door. "I bought them because they amused Shelia."
"Because they're funny." Seth couldn't help but add, "If you Cowboy and me Indian, should I worry about getting lassoed?"
"Only if you try and scalp me." I closed the door behind me and he followed me into the woods, no questions asked. Maybe he assumed I wanted some last minute advice about college, since I would be leaving for Dartmouth tomorrow—and coming back for my birthday in a week. I was trying not to think about how I would be eighteen very shortly, nor about the awesome party that Alice was preparing for that day.
Seth obligingly distracted me: "Are we heading somewhere with cover? The rain's going to come any second now."
I glanced up at the dark sky—the only surprise was that the rain hadn't fallen yet. "It's close by. If we're lucky it won't start pouring until we get there."
"It's raining, it's pouring.
The old man is snoring.
He went to bed and bumped his head,
And he couldn't get up in the morning."
Seth finished the ditty with a laugh, but I could only say, "That's horrible. Concussions aren't some kind of joke."
"No, it's...wow. It really is." Seth looked stunned. "I've never thought about it like that. Way to kill my childhood memories."
"I don't mean to."
He laughed. "Not your fault I still find nursery rhymes far too amusing. 'Hey Diddle Diddle' is still classical poetry as far as I'm concerned."
"I don't know that one. I don't know very many, actually. Jacob was the only one who tried to teach them to me, but he waited until four years after my birth, which...I was a little too old by that point. But I wouldn't forget it, even if I could. It was that horrible."
"Which one? Peter, Peter, Pumpkin Eater? Mom hates that one."
"Never heard of it. He taught me 'A Hunting We Will Go.' Because we were going hunting." The literalness would have appealed to me. "It was alright, until the end. Then it became needlessly cruel." I shivered, then recited:
"We'll catch a fox,
And put him in a box
And never let him go."
"It's not right," Seth said. "Not that—I don't want foxes in boxes either, but I always thought the line went 'and then we'll let him go' instead. I'm almost sure of it."
"That's not how I learned it. Though I'm sure there are many different variations of all these nonsense rhymes. What does it really matter?"
"Changes how I feel about it."
I didn't have an answer to that, which was fine because we had finally arrived at our destination and Seth wouldn't have heard me anyway. He was too busy going into sugar shock at seeing Emmett's Lego dream house.
"Awesome."
It was. Emmett had outdone himself when building it. Designed by Esme, of course, it had taken the two of us (and whoever was foolish enough to allow themselves to be cajoled into helping) a long time to construct, even if it was terribly small. But it had been worth it. In bright, primary colors the building just screamed welcome to everyone. Not that anyone outside my family had seen it. It was buried too deep on our land.
I motioned to the bright red door. "After you."
"Why thank you."
And he turned the square-shaped handle with obvious delight.
It was a small building, smaller than even the cottage. Emmett had wanted it for two purposes: to amuse himself and to destroy it in the funniest way possibly. Unfortunately for him, Rosalie wouldn't set foot inside it. So the small sitting room (and the bedroom behind it) still remained intact even after all this time.
"Is everything Lego?" Seth asked.
"No. Only about ninety-five percent. The wall is reinforced and..." he didn't want me to ruin the mystery. "Other things."
"Awesome," he repeated. Flopping onto the couch—the frame was Lego, though the upholstery was not—legs stretched out so his feet were on the coffee table, he turned to look at me, wide smile on his face. "So what did I do to deserve to see such greatness?"
Now that my moment had arrived, the nervousness in my belly became full on panic. What if he thought I was presumptuous? Disgusting? Crazy? The blood fled my face. What if—?
"You don't have to do it if you don't want. I completely understand. I know it's weird and freaky and just plain gross. I don't even know why I'm asking, to be honest. Well, I do, but I know my reasons don't actually have any logical basis. I know—"
"Why don't you just tell me what it is before you have a heart attack?"
He said it kindly, as always, which may be why I blurted it out.
"Can I bite you?"
Seth took it rather well, surprisingly. He didn't laugh in my face, he didn't scream, he didn't run away. He just raised his eyebrows a little (a lot) and repeated: "Bite me? Like...suck my blood, bite me?"
Blushing, I agreed that's what I had meant.
"Can I ask why?"
Unsure of what his tone conveyed, I hurried to oblige. "I've been trying to be human for as long as I can remember. I'm not always very good at it, but I've learned a lot. And my family...you know I've had some problems accepting them over the years, but I do understand that they're vampires and I love them anyway. But I've never...I'm part vampire. And I don't know what that means. If I ever want to find out...now is my only chance."
"Now?"
"Can you really see Jacob encouraging this? Everything else, yes, but not... he'll think I'm evil or something just for suggesting it." I dropped my eyes. "That's why I had to ask you. You're the only werewolf who wouldn't run away screaming—and werewolf blood is probably safest, seeing as it's less appealing than human blood. Besides, Annie's the only human I'm close enough with to risk asking, and she's already pushing plausible deniability to the limit. The vampires are out of the question, because I don't think drinking venom would be good for me. As for the half-vampires, it's not the same thing, and even if it was..."
"They'd get the wrong idea."
"Exactly." They were already too used to being killers. I didn't want to encourage them. But I was also so very curious. "Can you help me?"
It was a quiet for a long time, as I gave Seth time to process my request. Mainly, I fidgeted while he just sat on the couch, stunned. I wasn't sure if he was in shock or thinking it over, but I was too scared to look at see what his expression might be.
"Okay."
I couldn't believe it.
But he held my wide eyes and repeated: "Okay. You want to bite me? Let's do it."
He held out his arm, uncertain, but not shaking, looking at me questioningly. He didn't know how this worked—that made two of us.
"I would rather you were lying down," I began. "I'm not sure how much I can take...I don't want your heart to strain, or you to fall over and make things worse."
"Lying down on the couch," he agreed.
"I need to find something to use as a napkin. We leave bloodstains and even Emmett will notice."
"Right."
Seth was still too stunned to do much else besides what I told him, so he lay down without protest. I searched through the shelves for something to use to catch any stray drops and then bandage Seth up afterwards. Everything was either too small or too big. That's when I remembered Emmett must have brought some clothing for Rosalie to the house. It wouldn't be very big...but it should be enough. As long as it wasn't all sheer...
In the bedroom drawers I found a tiny red nightgown that Rosalie would never remember buying and then went to the vanity Emmett had designed specifically for her to grab a tube of lipstick. Back in the living room, Seth had kicked off his shoes and moved a pillow under his head so he looked quite comfortable. He was also laughing to himself.
"What's so funny?" I asked.
"Just some innocent bloodsucking," Seth replied, making himself laugh again. Only when I knelt on the floor beside him did he stop long enough to look at me. "Why does this require make up?"
"I have no idea what I'm doing," I admitted. "I don't want to get it wrong. It'll help me mark where to bite."
"Oh. Okay. So which blood vessel are you going after?"
"I have no idea. Suggestions?"
"Call me old-fashioned," Seth said, "But what about you just go for the jugular? If you're going to be a vampire, do it properly, I always say."
He made me smile, even if I couldn't stop worrying: "And if I get the carotid artery instead? You could bleed to death in minutes. Or if I get both?" I would have exactly seventeen seconds to watch Seth die. Not a plan I liked.
"You won't bite the wrong one." He must have seen that I wasn't going to risk that because he offered another suggestion. "So don't go after one of the big ones. The external jugular or the anterior jugular are probably safe enough."
"Probably?" I disliked the word more than the suggestion. It made sense. "Okay. External it is. Here I go."
Since I was already on his left side all I had to do was put a coat of lipstick on, lean over and press my teeth and lips against the side of his neck. I ignored how he smelt like earth and sea, while not even thinking about the taste of his skin because I was determined not to blush—this was a scientific endeavor, after all. I pulled away quickly, surveying my work. Then I frowned, licked my fingers and started rubbing off the lipstick.
"When I do this," I said as I tried to figure out how many millimeters I had to move so the bite would be perfect, "It'll probably hurt. I'm not venomous so it shouldn't be too bad, but it'll probably still sting."
"Embry doesn't mind." We snorted in unison. Seth continued, "I used to bite Leah all the time as a kid. It's only karma."
"Yes, but if it hurts too much, or if you start feeling cold or faint, just pull on my hair and I'll stop. Okay? And don't you dare not do it because you don't want to hurt my feelings, because I will kill you. Maybe literally."
"I promise not to be brave at all," he said solemnly. "You'll do fine. Just go with your gut."
I snorted.
"I'm sure thinking about it really hard will work, too."
I smiled, just a little bit, mostly so he wouldn't be too nervous. "Ready?"
"When you are."
He tilted his head back and this time the lipstick mark was exactly where I wanted it to be. Still kneeling beside him, I had to use my right hand to hold my hair back while the left clutched the couch. With Rosalie's nightgown beside Seth's neck, everything was in position.
So I leaned right over and bit through the skin.
It was not what I expected.
For years, I had lived primarily off of animal blood. I was used to the taste—I loved it, but I was used to it. Seth, I assumed, would taste similar. The fact he was a werewolf made my hypothesis more likely. Only I had been very wrong.
If animal blood was ambrosia, then I lacked the words to describe human blood. Delicious didn't capture the way a single drop made my whole body hum in pleasure. It was like a warm bath, for my very soul. Heroin wasn't addictive enough. The second the warm liquid touched my tongue, I was hooked. I had to have more.
I let go of my hair, let it fall everywhere so I could grab Seth's shoulder, pull him closer. The tiny part of me that was still Renesmee Cullen heard him hiss in pain as my mouth clamped down even tighter, but I didn't stop. When Seth moved his hand to the back of my head, I almost cried in disappoint, terrified he would pull me away—but all he did was tangle his fingers in my hair and keep my head where it was.
And still, I wasn't close enough.
I felt myself move, standing up and shifting over, adjusting my body so the angle of my mouth was better. That was the only thing that mattered. My fingers were digging into his shoulder, but his hand on my waist kept the rest of my body steady and the blood continued to flow. Thank God, the blood continued to flow.
It was the moan that stopped me, something guttural and primal torn from my throat, so not me that I shocked myself. The fear that accompanied it was enough to make me let go, even as my body screamed at me to stop.
That wasn't the only thing me body had to tell me. It also, belatedly, informed me that I was now quite comfortable straddling Seth Clearwater, my face inches from him. Information that would have been useful, before, but better late than never.
I focused on putting pressure on his neck, not that I had to worry about much. It was already healing over. In a few minutes, he wouldn't even have a bruise. "I don't think we have to worry about you bleeding out," I announced, trying not to look at him. It didn't work so well.
"You've got..."
His thumb against the corner of my mouth felt like it was burning, which was similar to how my entire body felt like it was on fire. The hazard of being on top of a werewolf, I guess. Or maybe it was because his eyes were firmly on mine. Or because when his thumb pulled away there was blood on it...
My lips engulfed his thumb, tongue desperate to get every last drop.
"Yummy," I whispered. And without thinking—because who was doing that anymore?—I leaned over to kiss him.
And found myself flat on my back on the ground beside the couch.
"Ow."
The tears that sprang too my eyes were not from the pain—my ego was far more bruised than my back, though Seth hadn't exactly been gentle when he threw me to the ground. It was the humiliation I couldn't stand.
Seth cursed, then asked, "Are you okay?"
"Fine. Just give me a second."
"Nessie—"
I quickly sat up, because Seth's attempt at sitting wouldn't go well. He ended up swaying, so I had to catch him, and help him lie back down. "Don't stop putting pressure on it. And stop moving—you'll be lightheaded for a bit."
"I'm fine." But he stayed still as I fussed around, making sure his neck was properly looked after. "Well, I guess we know bloodsucking tends to lead to bloodlust."
That was somehow worse than getting thrown on my back. My embarrassment became tinged with anger and I found myself snapping: "Why do you always do that? What point could possibly be served in pretending to be stupider than you actually are?"
"Excuse me for trying to help my brother's girlfriend."
Never before had I been so intensely aware that Seth and Leah were siblings, though I had assumed that sort of venom would only come from her. The label stung as much as the furious, accusatory tone. I had always preferred accusations that were exact.
"Your almost brother's almost girlfriend."
"That what you tell Jake?"
"Jacob's never bothered to ask."
"Then why the hell are you agreeing to marry him?"
"Catch a fox and put him in a box and never let him go." The rhyme came unbidden. "It's horrific. It's cruel. It's what will happen to him if I don't."
Standing up—I wasn't calm enough to stay crouched over him—I turned to face Seth. He was sitting up now, though he still looked a little too pale for comfort. "If I go to Jacob right now and tell him I don't want to marry him, we both know what he'll do. He'll say okay. He'll sincerely wish me all the best. If I need to call someone in the middle of the night, he'll answer. If I need a shoulder to cry on, he'll be there. And it won't matter that it's not him I'm with at the end of the day, because he loves me so much. But he'll be alone forever if I'm not with him. And I can't—I can't, Seth. I do love him and can't let that happen to him. I want him happy and the only way he can be happy is with me."
"Who says it's like that?" Seth demanded. "You want nursery rhymes? Here's one:
A wise old owl sat in an oak,
The more he heard, the less he spoke;
The less he spoke, the more he heard;
Why aren't we all like that wise old bird?"
"Not this again."
"Yes, this again. Fuck, Nessie, did you ever think that maybe when Jake says he wants to do whatever you want to do he means he wants to do whatever you want to do. It's not some noble gesture—it's what he really thinks. He's told you a billion times he just wants you to be happy. So listen to him. You don't have to be with him."
"And leave him to die alone? I don't think so!"
The raised voices made me a little nervous, but the emotion had to go somewhere, had to get out of me where it was making me crazy. A little volume never hurt anyway. Still, it shocked me to watch Seth essentially yelling.
"Who said it's going to be like that? You don't have to take care of him. That's the rule."
"Just because he's older—"
"Yeah, because he's older. But not just that. Because he forced this on you. Because he's had time to figure shit out. Because he knows something outside of you. Because he raised you and not the other way around. It's on him. Not you. He owes you—and you don't owe him. You don't have to do anything for him. Everyone's been telling you this for forever and you don't listen. You are not responsible for him."
"I'm his soul mate. I think that means I can be as responsible as I want to. If I'm not, then who is? I expect this from my family, but you're a werewolf, Seth. You should know better. You know I'm the center of his universe."
"We don't know that it works that way."
"Yes, you do. Leah said—"
"Leah?"
His voice had gone queerly, quietly speculative. I reminded him: "Your sister?"
"What does—?" After a long moment, he finally forced out, "You were wrong before; I act stupid because I really am a moron. You told me you were going to help Leah—and the next month you're engaged. And it worked, didn't it? Leah's at least pretending to be happier than she has in over a year."
The expression on his face scared me. "Seth..."
"What did she say to you?" he demanded. "Or was it Jake? No, it would have been Leah. He wouldn't have put himself before you. He—he loves you. And whatever she feels for you, she loves him more. She'd be insane enough to dump all this on you—I can't believe her!"
"How was she wrong? Tell me, Seth, because I would really love to know. If I'm supposed to be Jacob's soul mate, doesn't it make sense I should be with him?"
"Soul mates is a guess. We don't know what it means for sure."
"I know what it feels." I sat back on the couch, closer than I should, probably, but I was tired of caring. I had to make him see. "When I'm with him...it's different than with anyone else. It's like when you know the right answer on a test, but all the time. The thought of being with him forever makes me happy. I don't even have to think about it."
Seth started to laugh. It wasn't exactly amused, but it was laughter. "Since when do you like not thinking?"
Ay, there was the rub.
"Maybe that's why I like spending time with you so much."
"Stop it." He wasn't even looking at me anymore, just stared at the Lego bookcase like it was that much more interesting than our conversation. It was towards the wall that he directed his sigh. "I haven't even done anything and Embry's already convinced Jake's going to kill me—not to mention your Dad won't talk to me. Imagine what would happen if..." He looked at me then, in a way that made me tremble and made me feel utterly happy all at the same time. "They have every right to tear me apart."
And in that moment all the humiliation and embarrassment fled and was replaced by something infinitely more wonderful. Because Seth might be worried, but underneath the guilt there was something that meant I wasn't just a stupid child with a stupid crush. Yet I couldn't stop my brain from ruining everything.
"I thought Edward was upset with you because of your work."
"That was...let's say...forty-five percent of it." My father was too scared to get his hopes up after all this time; and even less inclined to watch Seth spend decades searching for what might very well be a non-existent cure. "And fifteen percent was just the fact I wasn't going to med school liked he had hoped."
I couldn't help the tiny smile. "And the last forty percent?"
"It wasn't..." he closed his eyes and I let myself brush his hair off his brow, even as I checked his neck to make sure he was doing all right. It just looked like a superficial bite mark now, so I rolled up the cloth as Seth searched for the right turn of phrase. "It wasn't that I noticed you. He wouldn't have held that against me. And I don't even think it was that I kept thinking about what I noticed—" I suppose it was a good sign that he could flush, now. I just enjoyed it because it made him look too sweet "—it was more that...the thoughts after the thoughts about you didn't involve dragging you to a Church or swearing my eternal devotion."
"He was angry you just wanted to fool around with me?"
"Shut up," he said as I giggled, though he was trying not to laugh too. When I stopped, however, he answered quite seriously. "More like I want like to spend two hours alone with you without one of us being ordered away by someone first. You know?"
"Yeah." Despite his poor articulation, I understood. Seth hadn't been blessed like the rest of them. It would take more than a glance to decide his future. It would take something that was absolutely impossible for him to achieve with Jacob's imprint. "I understand. I'm sorry I put you in this position."
"Just as much my fault as it is yours. Maybe more my fault; I could have avoided you."
"Does it make you feel better, assuming sole responsibility? It usually helps me."
He laughed and then tugged my leg so I ended up straddling him, knees on either side of his slender hips. It was possibly because he wasn't quite comfortable moving himself, possibly because it really didn't make much difference anymore. Either way, I was much very interested in how he felt, underneath me, in front of me, all around me, solid but not confining. And warmer than anything.
"I never thought," he observed, "That I'd meet anyone who tried harder than I do. But there you are."
"Makes us both kind of pathetic and needy, doesn't it?"
I guess I was leaning over a little too much, because our noses were somehow touching, and I could feel his warm breath on my face when he agreed, "Very."
Curling my fingers into the thin material of his t-shirt, I shivered as his nose traced the lightest of paths from my nose to my jaw and then down my throat. My eyes fluttered close and my head tilted back, somehow liking how it made me feel exposed. And in the darkness I came to a decision.
"It also makes us kind of awesome."
"Definitely," he agreed. And then his lips were branding my throat.
My eyes flew open.
"There. Now we're even."
There was a finality in his voice—thus far and no further. Or maybe I was reading into it what I needed to hear—we were already far too close to the impassable line for my comfort. Eyes open, I regarded Seth as calmly as I could.
"You're not going to come next week, are you?"
"I'll send you a present or something," he promised. "It's just...if you're right, and you're always right, and even when you're not, this probably isn't one of those times, I don't want to be there."
"What if I'm wrong?"
He didn't think I was, despite what he had said. They didn't know, and he thought they had been wrong to tell me speculation—but their best guess said I was the only thing Jacob could ever want. "You won't need me there. Hey, and this way you can invite the hybrids, right?"
"Joy."
Seth chuckled. "I'm sure they aren't that bad."
"Care to bet money on that?" I asked as I slipped off him. Seth just laughed as he stood; he needed my arm to steady himself, but after a second he appeared recovered enough. He would get home all right. And I wouldn't see him again until Christmas, if that. It was better this way, but I still felt like something was burning behind my eyes.
"How should I do my hair?" I blurted out.
"What?"
"I'm going to stop aging very soon and my hair is just going to stop. Rosalie wants it straight, but Jacob and Leah like it curly...I've been doing a sample poll. And don't ask how I like it because I have no idea. It's just stupid hair."
"I like your hair," he muttered. Yet he took his mission seriously. His forehead wrinkled as he tried to figure out an answer. "Can't you just leave half of it straight and half of it curly? That would look sort of cool."
He tugged half my hair this way and that, trying to illustrate what he was describing. Half way through laughing, the answer came, shocking me because it was so obvious. I really was a little fool.
"Thank you," I said, not bothering to keep the smile off my face. "For everything."
"I would say the same, but you have some pretty sharp teeth. Call me when you've got a free minute, okay? Let me experience the awesomeness of Dartmouth second hand."
"Promise."
Unsure exactly how we should end the conversation, we both just stood there eyeing the other warily. A hug was far too intimate right that second, but, after all, we had been friends my entire life. I didn't want him to leave with just a handshake. It came to us both.
Two fists, two voices saying "Knuckles," a nod, a smile, and then Seth walked out of the red door.
My neck was still burning.
A/N: I'm going to combine two requests I once got, though I doubt this is the way they were meant. If anyone is interested, I'm going to post an excerpt for this story later tonight titled Three Wise Monkeys, because I'll take any excuse to write werewolves. And I wanted to revisit the question of what Jacob/Leah were up to for the first thirty chapters one last time before Nessie's birthday.
