Chapter 50 - Silence
Ten minutes later, Paul had finally managed to reach me on my branch. He had cleverly scaled the tree next to mine, one which was much stronger, and had leapt from his tree into mine. My heart had jumped to my throat watching him fling himself through the air, but he seemed to effortlessly catch onto the trunk of my tree.
In just seconds he was reaching for me, a grin on his face as he spoke.
'Caught you.' I smiled back at him, a shiver rolling through me as he pulled me into his arms. 'Finally.' He added, and I laughed softly. I was about to respond when the branch suddenly creaked ominously, and I shared a glance with Paul.
'I think we might want to climb down before we fall down.' I said, to which Paul agreed with a laugh. We both descended quickly, and soon we were dropping to the forest floor, Paul doing so with considerably more stealth and agility. I stumbled upon landing, and in an instant Paul was there, his left arm around my waist.
My whole body was tingling as he pulled me closer, my skin on fire. Both my hands were pressed to his chest, and I gasped as my fingers met his bare flesh. His right hand cupped my cheek, tilting my head as he leaned in to kiss me, a kiss that set my whole body alight with sparks of pleasure.
Too soon it was over, and he was pulling away; I made a sad noise, grabbing the arm that was around my waist and keeping it there. There was a flicker of a strange emotion on Paul's face, his gaze not meeting mine as he stared at something over my left shoulder. I followed his gaze, turning to see what he was looking at, but his hand on my shoulder stopped me.
Confused, I opened my mouth to speak, but I snapped it shut almost instantly as his hand moved slowly from my shoulder to my neck. I stiffened, but didn't protest as his hand swept my hair away from my neck, exposing it and the bite marks it bore. I was breathing heavily, but being so close to Paul was keeping me from panicking as his warm fingers traced one of the curved scars.
'Every time I touch you, I worry that I'll set you off.' He whispered, staring at my scars as his finger continued to trace over them. 'I worry that I'll do something that reminds you of what happened.' My eyes were wide as I stared at him, quivering slightly at the hot trails his hand leaves behind. His eyes met mine now, fierce and full of emotion.
'It kills me, never knowing when you're going to break. Not knowing what to avoid, not knowing what he did to you.' I was pretty sure the only thing keeping me upright was Paul's arm around my waist.
'I know you can't talk about it. I won't force you. But I keeping it inside is making it worse.' And with that he pulled me in close, his right hand threading through my hair as I pressed my face to his chest.
I couldn't remember how to speak. I couldn't remember how to move. I wasn't even sure if I was still breathing. I had no response to what he was saying, what he was silently asking.
A small part of me agreed with him. Part of me knew that my fear was all bottled up, and that soon I wouldn't be able to contain it. Knew that if I didn't get it out of me, didn't confide in someone, it would consume me.
Another part of me thought about the pack. About how they all felt guilty about what had happened. They deserved an explanation. They should know what I had found out.
But while those parts existed, they were nowhere near strong enough to counteract the overwhelming fear I had of reliving, even for an instant, any of the pain Demetri had caused. And I knew, that until something inside of me snapped, that I would not be able to say a word.
I wasn't sure how long the silence between us lasted. I had to speak, had to say something. I was frozen, unable to think. But eventually, the words came.
'Paul, you don't want to know.' I whispered, and he tilted my face up so that our eyes met. His hand was warm on my cheek as he looked down at me.
'I don't want to know. I'd do anything to forget.' My voice broke, and I buried my face in his chest again. Breathing in his woodsy scent, and something else I couldn't name that I identified with Paul, I tried to stop my trembling.
'You were there, Paul. You saw more than enough. And I know they say that knowing is always better, but trust me, you don't want to know this.' Paul didn't say anything, for which I was grateful. He just held me, his warm embrace shielding me from the world as I pulled myself together. The sound of his heart, the feel of his bare chest, was intoxicating. With his touch, I eventually stopped my quivering, calming myself enough to talk without my voice shaking.
'Do you remember what I said to you that day, about you liking me?' I asked, looking up at Paul, the hint of a smile on my face.
'I think it's been more than 24 hours.' I whispered, staring up at him. Now he was smiling back, teasing me as he paused before responding.
'Well, my answer hasn't changed.' He said huskily, and my hand reached around his neck, knotting in his hair and pulling him downwards until our lips met. I delighted in the feeling of his hot lips as they kissed mine, and I pulled myself closer to Paul, loving the feeling of his body as it pressed against me.
Paul could make me happy like nothing else could.
Everyone was still staring. When Paul had flung me over his shoulder and carried me back to Sam and Emily's, it hadn't crossed my mind to worry about seeing everyone for the first time in weeks. Now, I was really regretting not being prepared.
I had experienced many awkward silences; I had been the instigator of my fair share. But the silence that had followed my entry hadn't been the kind caused by a bizarre comment, the kind that could be solved by a joke or a laugh. The silence had been pressing, suffocating.
A silence where every one of the pack members present – except for Paul – stared at me, each with looks I couldn't quite identify. Words had failed me, as I sat on the couch where Paul had dumped me, discomfort freezing my brain.
But the world had blessed me with Claire, who after three minutes of silence had unknowingly intervened, loudly asking the room whether it was time to chase Quil yet.
After that, things had returned to almost normal, with conversations starting up again. But it hadn't escaped my notice that everyone was still throwing glances my way, their gazes lingering far too long, their eyes filled with something that sent shivers through me.
I wanted to say something. To do something. Something to stop this. I just didn't know what. Somehow, a sarcastic or snide comment just didn't seem right. But my worrying was abruptly interrupted by a sudden mass movement to the kitchen, which was now full to the brim with six foot plus males crowding around a small and squashed Emily. I didn't need to ask what had been the cause of the rush; I had observed this mad dash for food many times before.
For the first time since I'd walked in, no one was staring at me; they were all occupied by whatever Emily had cooked up. I took a brief moment to enjoy the solitude, but I was hungry, so with a sigh I hopped off the couch, resigning myself to being the object of attention once more.
By the time I managed to reach the table, the crowd had somewhat dispersed, with most of the muffins having been demolished almost instantaneously. I couldn't help but remember what had happened the last time I had tried to get my hands on a muffin in this house, and almost as if he'd heard my thoughts, Paul appeared next to me, seizing the last muffin and dangling it teasingly over my head.
'Oh, come on! Are we really going to do this again?' I cried, indignant. I gave Paul a sour look, which he ignored, simply smiling at me, with a sneaky glint in his eyes.
'How badly do you want it?' He asked, his tone teasing.
'Why?' I gave him a suspicious look as I responded.
'Are you willing to fight for it?' I resisted the urge to face palm. I should have expected this. I was fairly sure he didn't physically mean to fight me, and I mentally cringed as I tried to imagine what he had in mind, but I couldn't deny that I was curious. Crossing my arms in front of me, I steeled myself.
'What did you have in mind?' He smirked. Oh no.
'A dare.' I kept my expression neutral, bracing myself for the part that would make me flinch.
'I'm listening.' I couldn't quite keep the smile off my face as I replied. Despite my caution, I was getting excited.
'Silence, for ten minutes.' I raised my eyebrows; that didn't seem that difficult, and it didn't quite explain the anticipation I could see in his eyes.
'That's all?'
'I mean it. Not a sound. No talking, no groaning, no laughing. Nothing.'
'And you'll give me the muffin?' I asked, trying to figure out what the catch was. Alarm bells had gone off in my head when he had said 'no groaning', and his devious looking eyes were telling me that there most certainly was a catch.
'Yes.' There was a short silence while we stared each other down, him trying to mask his eagerness and failing, and me levelling him with a suspicious glance as I pondered his terms. I didn't really care about the muffin anymore; I was more interested in the challenge of beating Paul and whatever secret weapon he had for this. The competitive part of me couldn't resist the dare, eager to see who would win.
The battle was on; this was going to be interesting.
'Fine. Ten minutes. Timed, and I want someone unbiased setting it.' He smirked, and didn't look surprised at my demand.
'Agreed.' Oh, god. I felt as if I'd just signed my life away.
Emily agreed to be our impartial timer, and we left the muffin in the kitchen, but not before I strictly informed the household that if anyone so much as touched it, there was going to be hell to pay.
I was reasonably confident in my ability to keep silent. It was only ten minutes. And while I was sure that Paul had something planned that was going to help him win, I wasn't overly worried. It couldn't be that bad.
I was so wrong.
The ten minutes that followed were the longest ten minutes of my life.
I sat myself down on the couch, keeping my mouth firmly shut as I sunk into the pillows. I immediately noticed Embry staring at me, so I stared back unashamedly, a neutral expression on my face. He looked taken aback at my stare, an uncomfortable look on his face, but he didn't avert his eyes, so neither did I. I was preparing myself for what was looking to be a staring contest, when without warning Paul collapsed onto the couch next to me, leaping over the back as to surprise me.
I jumped, barely keeping in a surprised squeak as I was jolted. I turned my gaze on him, my angry glare meeting his satisfied look. He didn't look the slightest bit deterred that his plan hadn't worked, and that was when I knew.
This was only the tip of the ice burg.
I was proven right just seconds later.
Paul just laughed at my angry look, stealing my pillow and settling himself comfortably facing me, grinning as my glare intensified. I launched myself at him, grabbing the pillow before he could collapse on it, clambering off the couch before he could grab me. I backed away from him, holding the pillow in front of me like a shield. He got up slowly, and one look at his expression told me all I needed to know.
For the next three minutes, Paul chased me through the house. After the first minute, other members of the house started commenting, jabs and remarks that were meant to break my silence. I was distracted by an impressively strange jibe from Quil, turning to give him a shocked look, and Paul was quick to sneak behind me, his hands seizing my waist and once again almost eliciting a yelp. He flung me over his shoulder, and I protested by whacking him with the pillow, though it didn't have much of an effect.
Once again we were back on the couch, though this time I was seated on Paul's lap. He promptly stole the pillow back, flattening it behind his back as I made a sad face. Paul just gave me a smile, before he began tugging on my hair; I rolled my eyes, breathing in a deep breath, trying to calm myself. It didn't really work, and after a full minute of hair tugging, I was thoroughly annoyed.
My arms were crossed as I sat there, my fists clenched as his hair tugging progressed to poking. I started squirming, but I couldn't escape his hold, and he began poking me anywhere and everywhere. Pressing my lips together tightly, I began to wonder when exactly this had turned into a game of how-can-we-annoy-Chloe-the-most.
Five minutes later, I was happily eating my muffin, a gleeful smile on my face. I was once again on Paul's lap, but this time I wasn't being mercilessly teased and annoyed. Paul had failed to get me to make sound, though not for lack for trying. Still, he was looking pretty smug as I savoured my prize; apparently annoying me had been enough compensation.
As I stared at my muffin, contentedly nibbling, Paul's hand snapped forward, trying to tear off a section. Apparently, he wasn't completely appeased.
'Hey!' I protested, slapping his hand away as he laughed. There was no way he was getting any of this muffin; I had gone through too much. I gave him a stern look, pointing my finger at him threateningly, before popping another section my mouth.
Victory was sweet.
