Seth POV
About two months later...
We were alone on the beach.
The darkness made the ocean pool out in an inky abyss before us, only a shade darker then the evening sky. The moon illuminated a patch of clouds right above the horizon that shimmered back in its reflection on the water, hundreds of miles away. If I had any interest whatsoever in painting, I would have wanted to capture the moment. It was beautiful.
But I only had eyes for the girl next to me.
I grasped her hand,swinging between us, but I could tell that Bailey was far away. Her eyes were not turned to the ocean, instead to the sky above us. She blinked, staring up thoughtfully. I wanted to brush my hand across her cheek, bring her back to me, but I was afraid of disturbing the fragile little happiness she seemed to have found.
Bailey had not cried for days. I could still see sadness in the set of her mouth and the crease of her eyes. I could see her straining around it, and I wanted to heave all of the sadness from her shoulders. Crush it with my fists or pummel it to the ground, or at the very least carry it for her. She was so small. I worried she would break. Her pain was a constant gnawing worry in the back of my mind, but it was getting better. Every time she laughed at something I said or smiled down at her shoes, it was like a clutch had been released from my chest. I could breathe again.
"Watcha doing?"
She jumped a little, her hand momentarily tightening on mine. Her eyes flicked to me, then back to the sky.
"Looking for stars."
I looked above me. The night is cloudy. There are no pinpricks of light in the milky charcoal above us. For some reason, I think this is sad. As if it wasn't always cloudy in La Push.
"They're there. You just can't see them."
She looks down and smiles. "I know. That's nice, isn't it?"
I think I know what she is saying, but I like to hear her talk. "What do you mean?"
"The stars are always, always there. Even when you can't see them, even when other things... Even when other things don't stay. The stars do." She looked down at the ground then, and I could see her eyebrows furrow slightly in the darkness. "Well, maybe not in a billion years when the sun explodes. But hopefully I'll be dead by then."
I smile. "For our purposes, I think it is safe to assume the stars will always be there."
She studies my face, and after a moment reaches for our hands twined together. She holds mine close to her chest. I can feel the warmth emanating from the hollow of her neck, and despite the fact that I run at 110 degrees Fahrenheit, I shudder.
"I like how you smile and nod after everything I say like it actually means something to you."
"Actually? Is it so hard for you to believe that what you say is really very interesting?"
"You make me believe it is." She is still studying my hand shyly, something I recognize as a habit. Despite everything, she is still shy around me. She finds other places to look then my face. I flex my hand, gently untangling her fingers from mine, and trail it up her jaw line. She turns her head into my hand. I can feel her lips against the skin of my palm.
We have stopped walking completely. Small moments. Moments like this, I tell myself. This is what matters.
"And you know what else will always be there?" I raise my eyebrows jokingly and she smiles at the corniness, but I hope she can see the truth in my eyes.
"Hm... Let's see... You?"
"Wonderful guess. And you know why?" Now she smiles fully and rolls her eyes, and I feel heat underneath my palm as she blushes. I move closer to her, bringing my other hand up to wind in her hair.
"Because I'm wonderful and kind and amazing, and you'll love me forever, blah blah blah."
"You forgot beautiful."
She raises her shoulders, turning her head to hide the blush even in the darkness. Like a timid little... kitten, or something. And just as fragile as one, I am constantly reminding myself. But right now I am not worried about her. It is just us and the moon, and her skin underneath my fingers is the softest delicacy I have ever felt.
She makes a shushing noise with her mouth, but I can tell she likes it. She is humble, but likes to be called beautiful. What girl doesn't? I will tell her she is beautiful every day. Anything to make her blush and smile, to do my best even though I could never justify the beauty that she holds. In everything she does... The flutter of her hands. The way her eyelashes shadow in the darkness.
I cannot believe she is mine.
"Are you finally believing me?" I think to when she explained how she did not think she was worthy of the imprint. How that was total bullcrap. It seemed cruel of fate to have me love somebody this much and not have them love me back.
"Maybe. No. But I believe you believe it."
I sigh slightly, ready to defend her, but she rolls onto the balls of her feet. Her chest is pressed against me, arms snaked around my neck. My hands tense, something new zinging through the air between us. My eyes travel down from hers to her lips, dark red in the moonlight and slightly parted. Every muscle in my body wants her to be closer. For her skin to be on mine, not between barriers of clothing. I try not to think about that. Bailey had been more...distant physically since Ian had died. I did not want to push her into something she did not want.
But all the same, as I tried to take a deep breath to distract myself, her scent comes rushing into my lungs. Sweeter then the summer air. Flowers in the sun. Something underneath, spicier, swirling like cinnamon...
I have to breathe through my mouth.
"You believe it," she says again, her eyes darting from my eyes down to my mouth. My hands slide down to her waist, tightening in their own will. "And I finally realize that's pretty much all that matters."
"No more running away? No more saying you hate me?" My voice almost breaks. I don't think she knows the effect she has on me.
"I never really hated you."
She doesn't answer the question. My heels sink into the sand as I rock back, my hand snaking behind to rest in the small of her back. I can feel the warm muscle shifting beneath her shirt.
Enough talk, part of me says. I take a deep breath. She is not sad, and she is talking to me. I can't waste this.
"I have a question," I whisper, so quietly she has to move even closer to here. Her lips are inches away from mine. One small movement of my head... "Why did you never tell me about your father? Did you not... Trust me?"
Just thinking of the words, thinking of that man, sends anger in red hot shards through my veins. When Bailey first told me the whole story, I could not believe it. And then I felt sick. And then I had the irrepressible urge to slaughter the man and keep Bailey in my arms for all eternity so that nothing bad could ever happen to her again.
"No. I've always trusted you."
She still does not answer. I wish I could read her mind. She still says so little, and the only effective means I really have to figure out what she thinks is by looking at her face, which is near impossible in the growing darkness.
And because I cannot tear my eyes away from her lips.
She is still oblivious, as close to me as she is, one of her hands resting on my chest.
"I just... I just never thought of it, you know?"
"You mean it never occurred to you that you might want to mention the slightly important fact from your childhood about-"
"No, it wasn't that... It was just, I was so happy around you. I was so happy around you that the world with my dad just seemed so far away. And it felt like while I was with you... Nothing could touch me. So no, it never really did cross my mind."
No matter what, she should have told me. I knew that, and was prepared to render anything she said as irreverent... Except for that. She had possibly said the one thing that might be able to justify me not knowing about her step-father.
I had made her so happy that she could forget about the horrors he did. I made her happy. Knowing that felt like some great big gift just handed to me, all tied up in pretty wrapping paper.
So I don't argue.
"Anything else important I should know?"
She starts to shake her head, but then stops, smiling up at me shyly. "Lots," she says, and I raise my eyebrows. "But I have to keep some of my... My feminine mystic, don't?"
I laugh and so does she, though it is probably because she thinks she sounds stupid and I think she is so sexy that it is hard for me not to bring us both down to the sand and kiss the smile on her face so that it turns into something else.
"Marry me."
She laughs. "Oh please, Seth."
"I'm not kidding."
She laughs, but her face abruptly turns serious. "You can't be serious, Seth. I'm only seventeen... You're what, fifteen?"
"Age is irrelevant when you're a werewolf. I would categorize myself somewhere around twenty three."
"That sounds exactly like something a fifteen year old would say."
I can tell that I will have to wait. Another time, maybe, when I have a ring...
"Fine. But if you won't marry me... Can you do something else for me?"
"Anything," She whispers, smiling sweetly. Now that my chance is here, though, I hesitate to break the moment... But only for a moment. She is too beautiful.
"Kiss me."
My words seem hazy in the beachy air, and I see a flicker of doubt run through her eyes. She opens her mouth then closes it again, eyelashes fluttering. She cannot really be scared to kiss me, can she? But of course she is. This is Bailey.
She tilts her face up, and it is as if the clouds part just so the moon can shine on her. Her hair glints in its light, a wild dark halo around her head, and her eyes shine.
I meet her halfway.
It has been too long. I have missed her.
I am reminded of last time, when we did this in her kitchen. But then I remember Ian had been there, and I stop that train of thought, as if just by thinking it might bring pain to her. I do not want to ruin the moment,
It is different than last time. Last time it felt like two giddy teenagers and puppy love, fun and playful and guessing. I no longer guess. I love her with all of my being, and I make her happy. Only two months later, but we had already been through so much. Doubt and death and fights. I will marry this girl and if she so chooses, raise a child with her.
I am sure.
Her lips are impossibly soft, and gentle as they are, my pulse quickens. My hands tense along her back. She sucks in a breath, her hands suddenly tightening along the hem of my shirt, and then meets me again, this time with more force. I am surprised when I feel her tongue flick against mine. She is not usually so bold. I take her cue and deepen the kiss, moving my hand to the back of her head to press closer.
But there is something not there. She is kissing me... But she is not fully there. I am reminded of when we walked hand and hand, but she looked at the sky, only seeing the clouds and not me.
I want to grasp her in my hands, to kiss the life back into her. But I stop when I hear her breath hitch.
"Bailey," My voice gasps, though I don't know if it is because of the kiss or panic. Her eyes shine with tears. Is it her brother? Is it me? Have I hurt her?
"I-I'm so, so sorry..." It must be her brother. "It's only been a month, I am taking this too quickly..." I draw back, bracing her away with my hands against her hips, but she clutches me with her arms.
"No," she says, her voice muffled with tears. And then again, stronger. "No. Please don't stop." She sees the hesitation in my eyes. I want so much to know what is hurting her. "Kiss me, Seth."
It is what she wants. That, coupled with what I felt before, makes it impossible for me not to bring us closer again.
And this time she has life. Her warm body melts to me, feeling impossibly fragile and small yet so powerful at the same time. I feel as though every part of me is touching her, drinking in her sweet smell. Her fingers rake down my back, pulling at the tee-shirt, and I know she can feel me shudder. But I am still hesitating. It is the small noise she makes in her throat that finally does me in.
I kiss her with everything I have, letting a muffled groan escape, feeling as strong and important as the waves crashing next to us. I leave my hands to go where they may. She is hot to the touch, and her skin twitches and shudders where my fingers brush. I move down from her lips, to the delicate skin on her neck, nipping softly than smoothing away the mark with my tongue. Lower still, to where her shirt clings to her damp skin...
"We should have done this inside," she gasps.
My eyes jerk back up. When we had talked about it, she was against the idea of making love so soon... But could she be changing her mind? Goodness knows I wasn't going to resist.
She laughs freely, seeing my expression and what it must hold.
"Easy, tiger. I only meant because it's going to rain."
And right as she says it, a drop lands on my shoulder, then on top of my head, until it makes a Notebook-esque (blame Leah for the fact that I have seen this movie, and I am unashamed to say that I may have shed a few man-tears during the last scene) transformation from mostly clear skies to a downpour.
She laughs again in exhilaration. We are soaked to the bone, both of our feet sinking into the wet sand as we run back to the house. The rain cools the spots where my skin still burns from her touch, and I never let go of her hand.
Bailey. My butterfly.
So. Yeah. This took me a while... But never in a million years would I abandon he story, especially considering that aside from one more surprise, it is drawing to a close. YaNoYaLuvMe... I know we all want Bailey to completely move on from Ian, but it doesn't seem entirely realistic to do that, you know? Like, it's always going to be a part of her, though not always a bad thing. Hopefully everybody liked the chapter, and tell me if you get the title...
Thank you for those still reading! I won't make you wait as long again! :)
