Bella's doing homework while Paul reads, some scifi novel she's never heard of, winding down from his shift at work.
It's a relief, to be alone with her.
Jake has been around much more in the week since his first phase; while Paul is thrilled for his girlfriend to have her best friend back, and not at all opposed to him being around if it makes Bella this happy, the strain of hiding his imprint from one of his brothers is killing him.
Jacob will have to find out eventually; and it's not as though he wants to keep it from him.
But it feels wrong for one more person to know before Bella does.
And he can't seem to find the words to tell her—how does one wake up one morning and tell the person they love the universe itself has deemed them destined?
That she's it for him—they're so young, but one another's endgame.
That they're soul mates.
Especially someone like Bella, who's experienced such a fucked up rendition of mates and fate and the supernatural; who's been told she'd found eternal love once before only to be hollowed out and cast aside.
"You okay?"
He's shaken from his thoughts by her voice, wide brown eyes staring at him with concern.
Paul smiles reassuringly, giving a gentle squeeze with the hand resting on her thigh as he reads. "I'm fine, baby. Just thinking about some stuff."
She hums, leaning her head on his shoulder, basking in the calmness that's starting to feel normal.
Later, Jess comes over, Seth trailing along behind her. "Hello hello! Paul, get off of our girlfriend, it's my turn with her."
Paul rolls his eyes but acquiesces. "Hi, Jess. Hey Seth."
"Paul!" The younger boy beams up at him, practically tackling him in a hug. "You want gummy worms? I have a whole bag?"
Sighing, Paul raises an eyebrow. "And where exactly did you get gummy worms, kid?"
"I'm not above using bribery to get him to behave," Jess admits cheerfully, plopping on the couch beside Bella. "Leah has to work a double, so we're thinking about heading to the beach for a while. You two want to join?"
"Please please please please please?"
Bella snickers at the puppy dog face Seth sends her boyfriend's way; he makes a face even as he gets to his feet, hands held up in surrender. "Fine, fine. You go pack us some snacks from the kitchen, okay? I'll go grab a couple of hoodies, since I know there's a gremlin that likes to steal mine."
"You're the best, baby," Bella calls after him, cozying up to Jess on the couch while they wait.
She catches Jess eyeing her with an expression she can't decipher. "What?"
Jess bumps her shoulder with her own. "Nothing. Just—it's nice to see you so happy. I can't ever remember you being so…at ease, before."
Bella bites her lip. "What do you mean?"
"Just—you used to always seem like you were—on, all the time. Always tense, worried about making a misstep. But now you seem—wholly yourself. Comfortable in your own skin, and all that."
She blushes at the way her friend reads her so easily. "Yeah, I…I don't know how to explain. It's—different, with him. I've never felt like this before. I don't have to…worry about being careful, or hiding any parts of myself."
"Well, God knows I ship it," Jess promises with a grin. "Leah is beyond tired of hearing me squeal about how excited I am that you're together. And Paul is practically Seth's idol—he and Leah have sworn up and down he's a good egg. I'm just glad to see you happy and loved the way you deserve to be."
"Oh, I don't—he doesn't—we haven't—"
Jess waves her eyebrows impishly. "Yeah, okay, he definitely does, even if he hasn't told you to your face yet. He's probably just worried about scaring you away. But I can see it in his eyes, Bella—and in yours. You've got it bad, my love."
Bella feels everything down to her chest flush red at the truth of the statement as it resonates through her.
(She's in love with Paul—it's the most wonderful and terrifying thing, all wrapped into one.)
Footsteps echo down the stairs as he descends, and then Seth is babbling and dragging Jess outside to load up the car.
Paul reaches to help her to her feet, an odd smirk on his face.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Bella demands.
"No reason. Just…wondering if there's anything you want to tell me."
Her heart rate rises, and she groans, unable to meet his eyes when the realization hits her. "Stupid fucking supernatural hearing. Oh my god. Can I please just die of embarrassment right now."
Paul snorts, looping his arms around her waist. "You're ridiculous, silly girl." He presses his lips to hers, softly and then more insistent.
She presses closer up against him, clutching at the back of his neck while his hands pull her tighter against him.
When they're both gasping for breath, he pulls away; presses a kiss to her forehead and then leans back. "Hey."
"Hi," she whispers in reply, cheeks pink.
"I love you, Isabella." It's soft, quiet, but the most seriously he's ever spoken to her—the gravity of his tone seeping into his expression.
She takes a deep breath.
"I know you've heard that before," he says, guessing the source of her fear immediately. "But I promise I will do everything in my power to never let you down. And it's okay if you're not there yet—if you need time, that's okay. But I do—Isabella, you are—you are the brightest light in this life. I love you."
She blinks back the beginnings of tears, overwhelmed with the surge of emotion coursing through her.
Everything with Edward made her afraid of "love"—made her push everyone away, consumed by it all.
(But she's known love—from her dad, and Jake, and Jess.)
(And now—from Paul, unlike anything else she's ever experienced.)
(She can do this—wants to do this, to let herself be honest with him and love him the way he deserves.)
"I love you too," she tells him, voice small but sure.
/
/
It's a Saturday afternoon; her dad is working, Paul and Jake are doing wolf things, and Jess and Angela had decided to go shopping for the day—they'd invited her, which she appreciated, but nothing in the world sounded less appealing.
All of which to say, Bella's left to her own devices for the day.
While some people might feel lonely, the solitude is nice; she's rarely had time alone to collect her thoughts and just recharge, lately, and as much as she loves spending time with her dad and her friends and Paul again, the constant social interaction is….draining beyond belief.
She spends the morning rereading Sense and Sensibility, letting herself relax as she soaks up the familiar words, gradually sipping at her mug of coffee.
Mid-afternoon, after she finishes the book and the chores she'd hoped to get done for the day, it hits her that she hasn't spent much time outside in—
(well, an embarrassingly long amount of time.)
So she tugs on boots and Charlie's worn jacket, the one she'd hijacked a month or two ago. And heads outside with a drawstring bag packed with water and a snack. She throws in her journal, too, the new one she'd recently started trying to process her feelings in, as a step midway between the hole she'd fallen into and the therapy she's psyching herself up to pursue.
It's ridiculous, really, because she spent her entire childhood hiking through these woods; Charlie hadn't gotten cable till a year ago, so every summer in Forks had meant hours traipsing between trees and meadows, as much as it raised her father's blood pressure.
And yet she's been so cautious, for as long as she's been living in Forks permanently; so convinced of her own incompetence, so beholden to Edward's reminders of her vulnerability and fragility, that she hasn't ventured into the woods on her own once.
(Not except for when Edward had left her, anyway.)
But it's exhilarating, taking her own agency again; deep breaths tugging the fresh air into her lungs, the shine of sunlight on her skin, the crunch of leaves and the curve of fallen branches beneath her feet.
After an hour or two of hiking, she makes it to a clearing—
And her heart stops at the familiar sight of the meadow—this place that had for so long been only hers and Edwards, the exact symbol of their relationship.
She staggers, for a few steps, the shock and overwhelming hit of grief and hurt bearing down on her for the first time in so long.
(The wondering why she wasn't enough—if she'll ever be good enough foreveryone she ever loves.)
(If everyone who claims to love her will leave her, eventually.)
She forces herself to sit down, in the center of the clearing; the locus of a swirl of chaos she'd never known it would become.
A deep breath, and then another.
And it's—it still hurts, of course. And there's still that itch, that need, though it's much fainter now than right after he'd left.
But right beside it is the knowing—that she has her father, and Jake, and Jess, through even her darkest moments. That they love her; didn't leave her even when she left herself.
And more than anything, that she has Paul, now—that for reasons she doesn't understand, that makes everything else bearable.
She knows, now, what it looks like when someone loves you; not obsession and condescension, but harmony, and care, someone putting her needs above their own desires.
(Someone looking at her like she's the sun—like she's the light in his days, like she's something strong and incredible rather than fragile.)
(Like he wants to learn everything about her, rather than change it all to suit him.)
She pulls out the journal she's taken to writing in, as per her therapist's instruction, and begins to jot her thoughts down aimlessly; the complicated mess of relief and love and pain flowing through her, the convoluted memories and the wondering if she'll ever be able to trust her own mind, knowing how easily it can be tricked.
She's there for a while, just taking in the fresh air, trying to process what she's feeling. Enjoying the solitude, the time alone with her thoughts that's been rare as she's tried to put herself back together.
And though difficult, it strikes her that this is the first time in months she's been alone and not felt—empty. The first time in months she's been alone and felt whole.
(It feels like healing.)
It's not sunset, not yet, but less bright than it was when she arrived, when she decides to head back.
She packs her things back up and gets to her feet. Just in time to jump when a voice behind her says, "Bella."
It takes a moment; she'd only ever heard him speak twice, after all.
She spins on her heel, stiffening at the sight of Laurent, mere yards away from her.
"And here I thought I'd missed you all." He beams, the bright white of his teeth magnetic. "The Cullens' house seemed deserted."
Her heart rate rises with his presence; and as he steps closer, she starts to feel dizzy, his scent drifting toward her through the air.
(That familiar scent, clinging to her, making her brain go haywire.)
Stall, Bella, you have to stall.
"Er—yeah, they decided to move their home base, recently."
Laurent's eyes lock on her, expression intrigued. "They haven't been in touch with you since, have they?"
The bright red of his eyes strikes her then—the degree of danger the situation truly poses.
Lie—you have to lie.
"Oh, they check in all the time," she forces herself to say casually, as though she's not aware of the way Laurent's gaze is trained on the pulsing vein of her throat. "I mean, Edward and I broke up, but we're still close—all of the Cullens are like family to me."
She thanks whatever gods there might be for Jess and Jake, just then—for the ways they've forced her to confront her feelings, for Paul helping her out of the darkness; if not for the three of them, she wouldn't be able to so casually say Edward's name now, she knows.
"Hm. I suppose I'll have to apologize to them, then."
Bella's body goes tense. "I'm sorry?"
"It's just that you really do have the most exquisite scent, and I'm terribly thirsty. But it's a kindness, Bella—you won't feel a thing. So much less painful than what Victoria has planned—she's been after you, you know, as a means of harming Edward; a mate for a mate, after all."
"But he and I aren't even—we—"
Laurent chuckles. "Well that won't matter much to her, I'm afraid. It's the only answer she can see. It's alright, though, that's why I'll kill you now, you won't have to go through any of that."
He's closer, then—so close she's drowning in his scent, can't breathe, can't think as it immobilizes her—
"Don't worry," he whispers, and she can't worry, can't do much of anything—
Then there's something; a sound she can't quite hear, because all of her senses are muffled, but it seems like there might be a howl.
She's numb—but then Laurent isn't in front of her, anymore, and there's movement she can't process, howls and snarls and horse sized wolves blurring before her.
"Bella," she hears through the fog. "Isabella. Come back to me, baby."
She's shaky, and cold, and there's a painful pressure in her head—
And then warmth envelopes her, heat searing through the fabric of her clothes, and Paul's voice is in her ear, whispering, "You're okay, baby. Come back to me."
"Paul?" she rasps, the heat slowly radiating through her as she comes back to herself. "Paul I—he—"
"I know," he says softly, gentle hand on her back. "But you're okay. The pack took care of him—he'll never bother you again."
"I—" she sucks in a deep breath, shaking her head as she tries to sort herself out. "I feel so—off. It was…I don't know."
Paul makes a face, keeps rubbing circles on her back. "I know. It was relapse, Bella; he hit you with the same stuff that messed you up when Edward left. You're so strong, baby."
She nods. "I—I didn't even think." She closes her eyes, just trying to breathe, for a moment. "God. It just never stops, does it? Never a normal day."
Paul snorts, pressing his face into her hair. "You could say that. I blame you—you're just too good, all us monsters want you."
She giggles when he sucks at her neck, teasingly.
And it's this—the fact that she just went through a traumatic experience, but the man she loves can make her laugh even as she's still shaken; knows how to make her smile even while the adrenaline runs through her.
(Knows what she needs is to be reminded of her strength, in this moment.)
"Bells!" Jacob jogs up to them after phasing back and hastily tugging on his shorts. "You're okay?"
"Yeah, I—just a little shaken up, I think." She leans against Paul's chest, breathing in the familiar smell that somehow convinces her brain she's safe. "Thank you both for the save. Tell Sam I said thanks, too."
Her chest twinges, at the familiar sentiment—always the one in danger, always the one needing to be rescued, all over again.
Always defenseless, helpless to whoever and whatever is around her.
(She's so fucking tired of feeling weak.)
"Hey, what's going on in there?" Paul asks, thumb stroking her temple.
Bella jerks out of her thoughts, shaking her head slightly. "Nothing. I'm okay. Just getting caught up in my thoughts too much." She bites her lip, eyeing him curiously. "How did you pull me out of it so quickly? It's never been that easy to escape the fog of it all before."
He swallows, meeting Jacob's gaze. "Jake, will you give us a minute?"
Bella's eyebrows draw together in confusion as Jake heads away, looking equally baffled.
For the first time in as long as she's known him, Paul looks nervous. "Baby, I—there's something I have to tell you."
She stops breathing, just then—squeezes her eyes shut, bracing for the worst. "Are you—do you want to break up?"
"What the fuck—god, no, Isabella. Hell, that is—" he holds her tighter, like he can prove it's true by cementing their skin together. "That is the last thing I want. The complete opposite of what I have to say."
He moves to face her, then, interlocking the fingers of both hands with hers. "So. There are about a million terrible things about being a wolf—so many ways it's made my life harder. But it also…it also comes with imprinting."
His girlfriend scrunches her nose, and he has to restrain himself from laughing and kissing her till he can't breathe when she says, "Like baby geese?"
He snorts, biting down on the laughter. "Not exactly. It's like…when you see them for the first time, everything stops. It's not gravity anymore, but them that holds you to the earth; in an instant, like magnets, you're drawn to them, and everything in your life makes sense. And it's not—not like obsession, or anything, and it's—only whatever is right for both people involved," he hurries to explain, not wanting to overwhelm her. "But they're your other half, so it tends to just—click. I don't know how, but the magic or the gods or—something, somehow, knows, and creates the imprint bond so we can find the one, as soon as we make eye contact with them for the first time. Sam imprinted on Emily, the first time they met; and then Jared imprinted on Kim, one day in class when he asked to borrow a pencil."
He's rambling more than usual, anxious as he is for her response, and Bella sets a gentle hand on his jaw. "Hey, breathe. Why are you telling me this?"
"I—that day, in the diner, I imprinted on you. Isabella, I—phasing flipped my world upside down, but I would choose it every time, because it brought me to you."
Bella's eyes go wide, and she opens and closes her mouth several times, shocked speechless. "I—I'm your soul mate?"
Her heart rate rises as she begins to process it—the idea of forever.
(She'd thought she found it once before—let the idea of forever get to her; let it make her see Edward as almost a god.)
But it's Paul who looks at her reverently—who challenges her, understands her, supports and encourages and loves her.
(It's—she's still scared of it. Still expects him to abandon her, that it's all too good to be true.)
(But in the meantime, she's starting to believe it's real.)
"Yes," Paul confirms, thumbs rubbing circles on the back of her hands. "Is that okay?"
When she's quiet for a beat, he swallows heavily. "It doesn't have to mean—anything you don't want it to. We're still just you and me. Fate's just on our side."
"I—okay. Wow." She rubs at her eyes, overwhelmed, but—not upset. "So that's why you're able to override the—vampire scent, or drug, or whatever? Because you're my soul mate?"
He nods, small smile gracing his face. "Yeah. The imprint bond is—stronger than anything. That's why—when I tell you I'm never leaving, it's not just me saying what you want to hear. It's a promise. The only thing that could ever make me leave is you."
His eyes lock on hers, heat simmering between them.
She's silent for another moment, and he makes a face. "What are you thinking?"
She bites her lip. "I'm thinking…I should probably be a little freaked out, but I'm mostly just a little relieved. Which—I don't know what that says about me, that I'm just glad to find out the universe stuck you with me forever, but…I really, really am."
Paul rolls his eyes, even as he pulls her closer. "I'm glad the universe stuck you with me forever, too."
She kisses his collarbone, then works her way up to his lips.
"Baby?" he murmurs against her mouth.
"Hm?"
"As much as I love making out with you—and you know I really, really do—you smell so much like leech right now."
Bella bursts out laughing, letting herself topple over in the grass.
(Like always, Paul helps her to her feet.)