Tonight with words unspoken
You say that I'm the only one
But will my heart be broken
When the night meets the morning sun

I'd like to know that your love
Is a love I can be sure of
So tell me now and I won't ask again
Will you still love me tomorrow

Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow? -The Shirelles

So what happens now?

She put the question out of her mind the best she could. It was irrelevant. Not a single other thing in the world was worth thinking about that night. It wasted time that was better spent tangled up in each other, and she was determined to make every second count.

It wasn't hard. The next hours were spent in his embrace, with long pauses in their whispers and giggling where only labored breaths carried over the water.

"We should head back," he murmured, brushing a wet lock of hair from her face.

"Just a little longer." She clung to him, burying her face in his neck and leaving an open mouthed kiss on his shoulder.

"Jesus, woman," he chuckled. "I'm not a machine! And I'm already working with a handicap, remember?"

"Didn't seem to slow you down," she replied wryly.

With great reluctance and a peck on the lips, she released him. He let her win the race to shore, taking up the rear either to watch her back or to watch her backside, or perhaps both. It was with similar reluctance that they dressed, though rarely a moment went by that they remained apart. The short walk back to the bike was prolonged. A few clumsy steps were halted with a kiss. A few more, and they crashed together again. She would have been happy to stall like this as much as he would let her, anything to keep the moon from sinking back into the sea.

She bit her lip. "Are you sure we have to go home?"

"If I don't, my sister's gonna send out a search party," he replied.

"Really?" she asked. "Is she afraid something's going to get you? Because I think you could take a mountain lion if you wanted to." He let out a humorless laugh.

"Not anymore. At least, not like I used to. It's not really about that, though; She and Dad don't want to let me out of their sight again." She frowned. She felt a little guilty for making light. "But I appreciate the vote of confidence," he added. "Glad somebody hasn't decided I'm crippled."

Always trying to reassure her. It was difficult to watch him try to be the same carefree boy when she knew his peculiar kind of innocence could never be fully restored. But then again, neither of them were the same people they were before, and there was no time to mourn those people. Time was fleeting. The only question left was what to do with what they had.

With no watch, it was impossible to tell the time, only that the house was still vacant and the sun had not yet risen.

"When will I see you again?" he whispered under the rustling of leaves.

"What about tomorrow? I have work, but I'll be done in the afternoon."

Jacob hesitated. She didn't like the suspicion in his eyes, the precursor to the one topic she didn't want to think about tonight.

"What about...him?" he asked. She briefly looked down at her feet.

"He's gone until my graduation next week. I'm a free woman."

He swallowed, unmoved, but nodded.

"Okay."

She took his hand in hers, raising it to her lips to press a soft kiss onto the remaining knuckles.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

It seemed that wasn't enough to part on. With a tug, he crushed her back to his chest, his embrace overwhelming her diminutive form. For a minute, it looked like he had no intention of letting her leave.

"See you tomorrow," he whispered, letting her go with a kiss on the temple.

Neither the temperature nor the vast expanse on the other side of her bed had altered, but on that night, it did not feel so lonely. The scent of his skin, the smoke, the salt air, all lingered in her hair, and she could almost imagine him next to her.

The morning rays would wake her, and he would be the first thing she saw. Fast asleep, his bare back rising and falling with even breaths, all worry and tension erased from his face. It would be such a shame to wake him up; She'd have to be gentle. Nose-to-nose, faintly caressing his shoulder with her palm, down to his sculpted chest, until his eyes finally cracked open and greeted her with a sleepy smile. He would pull her in tightly with one arm, eliciting a startled giggle, because she was too far away. A couple inches apart might as well be the other side of the bed. Then, he'd bury his nose in her hair and mumble something about it being too early, and she would start with Plan B, which is to kiss him back to consciousness. He'd smirk against her lips and let her roll on top of him, and suddenly the entire morning would be shot.

Just another normal Saturday afternoon of strolling through town, hand in hand, stepping gingerly over the Hare Krishnas strewn about the sidewalk. Maybe they would go see their friends play a gig at a bar down the street, or spend too much money at the bookstore below their apartment, or maybe they would just walk along the endless sugar-sand beach for hours until it was time to watch the sunset over the Pacific. It didn't matter what they did, so long as they were together. And then they would go home, tired, contented, perhaps a little sunburned, and prepare to begin the cycle anew. Just one more kiss goodnight. Okay, maybe one more.

Life couldn't be more perfect.

It might have only been a dream, but it was a good one, and one she was not ready to give up.

So what happens now?

He didn't like that question. It was easy to ignore over the sound of her laughter or her hot breath whimpering in his ear, but now he was alone, and it was scratching frantically on the inside of his skull, trying to escape like a rat in a cage. He trudged through the sleeping house, barely peeling off his damp clothes before collapsing onto the mattress. The moon was no longer shining through his window, having receded behind the mountains in preparation for the arrival of the sun, leaving the world just as opaque as ever.

"I love you."

Words he dreamed of hearing, though he never expected to. Just having those thoughts at all used to irritate him; At first, it was because they were so sappy, and later because they were absurd and bordering on self-flagellation. He knew what happens when you let yourself wallow in it. Leah had already given him a front row seat to that horror show. Nevertheless, his cravings persisted.

He should have been deliriously, drunkenly happy, and he was, for the most part. It was easily the most amazing night of his life. His legs were still prone to buckling under him in its wake, staggering out of the water and onto dry land like a new foal. The evening began with him knocking on her window, weary, aching, restless, with nothing but the vague hope that she could ease it all with her presence alone, if she would see him. Never in his wildest imagination could he have predicted that he would hear her confession only moments after hearing her panting his name. For once in his life, there was something he could be certain of, something that helped ease all the pain that dogged him: He loved her, and she loved him. It was simple. Something needed to be simple.

But then she had to go. With every parting kiss came the fear that it could be their last, and that fear brought sobriety along with it.

A 'free woman,' huh? What a joke. What a sick, sick joke.

Of course she wasn't free. What she had was some rough approximation of freedom, which would disappear the second she slid that pretty boy's golden shackle onto her finger. Then that would be it. No more Bells, just Mrs. Whatshisface. Swallowed whole, disintegrating into nothing, like The Blob. What then? Was he really going to let it come to that?

No. He wasn't going to think about that. There would be plenty of time to ruminate on this later. For tonight, he would allow himself to dream.

Rachel's fist on his bedroom door jerked him awake. It was late morning, and she was probably making sure he hadn't strangled himself with his own sheets in his sleep, or about to nag him to eat breakfast so she could wash up.

"I'm up," he yawned.

Sitting up, he found that the muscles of his legs were stiff and sore, more so than usual, and that's when the memory of the night before came flooding back. It didn't feel like it could possibly be real, but when he wiped the cold water from his face and looked in the mirror, there was a dark purple polka dot decorating the base of his neck. It was real, alright.

That morning, it appeared that his appetite had returned. Rachel watched in horror as he plowed through everything she had left over from breakfast, even the scrambled eggs that had gone cold an hour ago. After his second glass of milk, she finally spoke up.

"You were out late last night."

Not this again.

"Sorry." He gritted his teeth and began clearing his empty plate and glass. "I was trying not to wake you up."

"I was worried," she said quietly. "Where were you?"

"Went for a ride. I needed to get some air." She nodded.

"Oh." She approached the sink, but he had already taken the sponge and started working on his glass. Instead, she sat down at the table, her chin resting on her hand.

"I'm sorry I'm such a pain in the ass," she said, her voice low and morose. He switched off the water.

"You're not a pain in the ass, Rach." She sniffed, and her lower lip trembled.

"Sure feels like it."

"Rach, come on," he sighed, pulling out the chair beside her.

"You hate being here. I can see it in your eyes. You just got home, and you already can't wait to get away from us."

She was trying not to cry. Rachel was never one to lay out her deeper feelings. She'd rather express her displeasure with sarcasm or the flat end of a wooden spoon than cry. More like her mother every day.

"No, that's not it," he replied. He didn't know how to put it all into words without making her feel even worse. Being harsh was easy. Being frank was hard.

"It's not about you or Dad, or even this house. It's everything. When I left, I thought that was how I was going to find what I was looking for, but I didn't. Hell, I don't know what I thought I was going to find. It didn't take long before all I wanted was to come home, and once I got here, I realized that I fit here even less than I did before. I couldn't be more of a square peg."

"Of course you fit here. We're your family. You're a Black, for pete's sake. You could have been chief. If that's not fitting in, I don't know what is. There's always been a place for you here, if only you would take it." He shook his head.

"You know that was never me. Honestly, I'm glad I turned it down, and you should be too. Sam's perfect for it. He's a natural leader, and I'm…"

"...Restless." He let out a deep sigh.

"Yeah, I guess I am." He leaned back in his chair. "I'm stuck, Rach, and I don't know what to do about it. I've got pieces of me in different places, but I don't belong in any of them. I'm an outsider on my own land, and I'm less than that when I'm off it. The longer I'm home, the worse it gets. Constantly reminding me. I can't stand it." His fingers tightened into a fist at his side. This might have been too much honesty to share with his sister. He could feel her gaze slowly turning critical.

"You really hate being Quiluete that much?" Her tone made her opinion unmistakable.

"No," said Jacob. "I used to sometimes, when I was a kid. That's why I spent so much time trying to get away from it. When I got older, I realized that I just didn't want my life to be dictated by other people. Then, it was all about sending a message." He ran his fingers through his hair as he recalled all his dumbass, attention-seeking stunts designed specifically to piss off the elders, and then on further thought, he laughed.

"You know, I miss my hair." Her forehead wrinkled.

"Then why'd you keep cutting it?"

"Stubbornness, I guess. Had to really drive the point home. Girls seemed to like it, too."

"Ah, there's the real answer," she said, rolling her eyes. Puberty turned him into a dog back then. Thank God those days were over.

"I think I'm going to let it grow again," he said thoughtfully.

She became quiet, watching her fingers trace scratches in the wood tabletop.

"You're going to leave again, aren't you?" It wasn't a question. He didn't want to look, to have to watch her heart break over him yet again.

"It wouldn't be forever," he finally answered. "And I'd still visit. Who knows, maybe someday I'll get the urge to shove a stick up my ass and be the new wrinkly old bastard on the council that bitches about the kids."

That tricked her into smiling for a moment. With a deep inhale, she rose and made her way back to the dirty pans sitting in the sink.

"Just promise me that you'll say goodbye," she said. "I don't think Dad could take it if you just disappeared."

Poof. Gone in a cloud of smoke. He gave her his word, but with so many things still uncertain, there was no way of knowing if it was a promise he would be able to keep.

The day was spent at the shop, supervising the younger ones through the slow, sticky morning. At least he was getting paid, and it beat sitting around watching the clock all day, but that didn't stop him. Good thing he was only supervising, because his thoughts were almost entirely occupied by more important matters, oscillating between the details of the night before and the unspoken matters hanging above his head.

It was getting late, and he was getting fidgety. Barely twelve hours had passed since he last saw her, and every minute longer felt like an eternity. He needed her right now. Several eternities later, he dismissed Seth and Quil under the pretense of a slow business day. They both had girlfriends now, and with the end of summer vacation in sight, they needed little convincing to hit the pavement.

So, he sat in the empty garage and waited. And waited. The longer he waited, the more anxious he became. Where was she? Was Pretty Boy really out of town? Was she going to call off the wedding, or was he destined to be a dirty secret? What came next if she did? Did Bella really love him enough to do something like that? Just up and abandon a much better life than he could give her? On and on and on, until the embers had reached the filter of his last cigarette. The sight of her Chevy turning onto the dusty driveway spared him any more time spent thinking about it. He nearly jumped to his feet as the driver door swung open to reveal his girl, flushed with the heat. She hopped into his arms, pulling away from the kiss with an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry I'm late. We got slammed right as my shift was ending, and I couldn't just leave Mike to fend for himself."

Of course she did. She wasn't selfish like him. Time to swat away all the insane thoughts that had been buzzing around him like gnats for the last hour.

"Such a good girl," he tsked. "I'm disappointed."

"Hmmm, I wonder how we could fix that." He was almost struck dead by her coyness. Good. If all the blood migrated away from his brain, he wouldn't be able to think any more stupid thoughts.

The desk was clean, thankfully, and as sturdy as ever, though it only needed to be able to hold all 110 pounds of Bella for the next hour. The first time was absolutely freezing, but this time it was sweltering, with only a sputtering fan to offer any relief. Given that the daylight granted him a far superior view of her than before, he decided he could live with it.

It was nothing but raw, dense friction, the kind that only came from intense need that cleared away every last scrap of inhibition. An electrical current seemed to pass through them wherever their skin touched. He knew they were reaching the end when her lips parted, and his name slid off her tongue. Something from deep within him growled with satisfaction.

My name. Mine. Not his. Mine. I did that. I'm the one she wants. Me.

That was all it took.

The new layer of perspiration was soaking into his t-shirt as he pulled it back over his head, somewhat disappointed by the sight of her re-buttoning her blouse.

"How long can you stay?"

"Not very," she replied. "I need to be home in time to make dinner."

"Can I see you tomorrow?"

"I have to study for finals. They're all at the end this week, and I'm so behind. I might be able to slip away this weekend, though," she added. It was obvious from her expression that he was doing a poor job of hiding his frustration.

"Jake?"

"Are you going to call off the wedding?" he asked plainly. She blinked at him.

"...Yes."

"When?"

"I haven't figured that out yet," she admitted, biting her lip.

He knew he was pushing, but he had to know. If he spent the rest of the week wondering, they'd have to cart him off to the nuthouse.

"Well, there's no time like the present. You can borrow our phone. What's his number?"

"Jake, come on," she said with a frown. "You know I couldn't do that."

"You can do anything you set your mind to."

"Jake-"

"-What was last night to you?" She stared back at him, confused and searching his eyes for answers. He quickly softened his tone. "I need to know, Bells. I need to know what you're thinking, because that was the best night of my life. But if this is just-" He cut himself off, refusing to let his voice crack.

A look of realization crossed her face. She eased into him, wrapping her arms around his torso to rest her cheek over his heart and listen to it thud painfully against his ribcage.

"Mine, too," she murmured. "Nothing even comes close."

"And what am I?" Her hand began stroking his back.

"You're my best friend, Jake. And you're a jerk, and kind, and smart, and an idiot, and honest, and beautiful, and hard-headed, and wonderful. You're the only person who really knows me and loves me as I am. You're the only one that I want. You're the only one that I've ever truly wanted."

He held her tightly against him, his unease nearly evaporated by her words. There was only one more question on his mind.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

"I'm scared," she whispered.

"Why?" He held his breath.

"I was thinking about us before I went to sleep. I saw the whole thing, our whole life, and I want it bad, Jake. I want it all. I want to be with you every day and love you and make you happy, but I've painted myself into a corner, and I don't know how to get out. I've wracked my brain trying to come up with solutions, and none of them are going to be easy, not by a long shot. I think…" She hesitated. When she raised her head to look at him, there was a single tear running down her nose. "... I think I could do it. I could stop being a coward and tell the whole world to go fuck itself, but I can't do it by myself. I need to know that you're not going to run away again."

It hit him like a ton of bricks, and then all he felt was shame. She was right. He'd been so consumed by his own fear and distrust that he didn't realize he'd given her no reason to trust him. How could she? The moment he finally accepted the truth, that he was completely and irrevocably in love with her, he ran. And now, he was asking her to uproot her entire life to take a chance on him.

"I won't."

"Promise me," she commanded. "Promise that you won't leave me again."

"I won't. I promise."

A faint smile had already dried her eyes. She reached onto her tip-toes to seal the pact with a kiss. Her lips moved softly and slowly against his, trying to put his worries to rest.

"Good," she replied, playfully ruffling his hair to diffuse the tension. "I'm sorry. I wish I could stay longer."

"Then stay." His hands snaked back around her shoulders as if to trap her there.

"I can't," she groaned. "I really have to hit the books. Graduating is the first thing I have to get done. After that, we can figure everything else out. Okay?"

There was that feeling again, the twisting sensation in his stomach that appeared every time he got something he wanted. Always waiting for the other shoe to drop. If only he could let it go and trust that things were going to work out. He knew better than to do that by now. But then, there was the hopeful little smile she wore, a brave face summoned just for him, trying to steady him. Maybe she wasn't the one he didn't trust.

"Okay."

A/N: Hi, all! I've finally had a chance to get more writing done and map out the final details of the story. I'm excited to wrap this up and give them the ending we've been waiting for.

I also have an official playlist now on Spotify. You'll find the link on my Tumblr, your-void-senpai.

Please favorite and leave a review! Thanks for reading!