Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Suggested Listening: "Rabbit Hole" by The Temper Trap
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"So how was the date?"
Quil paused in the middle of taking a bite, his fork suspended in mid-air. Instead of moving, he blinked at Paul in bewilderment. The other man was sitting across the table, a smashed up roll in his hand. It was missing a bite, and Quil could easily see where it was as Paul eyed him knowingly, chewing with his mouth wide open, displaying the food for the entire world - or, more specifically, Quil - to see.
Still, Quil wasn't sure if he heard the other man right.
Glancing to his left, he saw Emily was already watching him from the kitchen island, looking away as soon as his eyes captured hers, almost like he caught her doing something she wasn't supposed to be doing. The rest of the pack had already headed out to the woods for training, but Quil and Paul had showed up to the house late after spending the entire day re-shingling his grandpa's roof. Emily had insisted they eat something before they go, so there they were.
Truth be told, Quil really just wanted a damn nap, but Jacob was in some kind of mood and having none of it.
And apparently, Paul was too, because now he'd taken to making shit up. It was obvious since Quil had no idea what the fuck he was talking about.
"What date?" Quil asked, the confusion thick in his voice. Frowning, he lowered his fork.
Lifting both eyebrows, Paul gaped at him like he couldn't comprehend how Quil didn't know what he was talking about.
"Last week...with Bella."
Quil almost dropped his fork.
Once he was sure he had a firm grip on the utensil, Quil swallowed his stomach back into his body where it belonged, knowing Paul had to be referring to the dinner with Bella's mom.
And that certainly wasn't a date.
Quil hadn't even thought of it like that. He'd gone because Bella had told him how hard it was going to be and she'd needed the distraction to keep her mother from asking all kinds of questions about the last sixteen months. He'd done it to be nice.
He'd done it because he knew what it would mean to her.
He'd done it as a friend, because it was just like he said.
She was important to him...
"Dude, that wasn't a date." Despite the time he took to think about each one, the words tumbled out of his mouth a little too quickly.
Paul took another bite of roll. "Did you pay for dinner?"
Quil swallowed. "Well...yeah."
"Did you go back to her place after?"
Rolling his eyes, Quil decided to put down the fork, leaning back in his chair instead. "Well...yeah," he pushed out, suddenly wondering why he didn't just lie to Paul about it. It would have been a hell of a lot easier. "But only because Maddie heard me when Bella called back to Jake's and wanted a story…"
"But you still went back," Paul stated matter-of-factly, a triumphant smirk creeping across his mouth.
"What the fuck is your point, man?" Quil asked, the irritation laced through his voice. "Yes. I went back to her place, but…"
"Dude, give it up," Paul interrupted pointedly with a wag of his eyebrows. "It was totally a date."
If Quil hadn't been so damn confused trying to figure out the point of Paul's twenty questions and why he was so hell bent in calling the dinner the week earlier a "date", he might have just got up and shut Paul up with a fist to the mouth.
"It was not a date," Quil repeated through clenched teeth.
That time, Paul sighed, shooting a not-so-subtle glance at Emily. Just out of curiousity, Quil followed the other man's eyes, finding Emily watching them again - only that time, she was under cover of leftovers she was pretending to put in containers.
For a second, a part of Quil felt like it was planned attack. Like maybe it was something they all had talked about before. Maybe when he wasn't around...
"Alright, Q, let me put it this way since it's clear you really don't have an ounce of self-awareness in that pretty head of yours," Paul continued, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms behind his head, narrowing his eyes before he spoke. "When's the last time you actually went on a date?"
If there was one thing Quil hated more than Paul being right, it was when Paul made good points.
There was no living with him when that kind of shit happened…
The silence was worse though - as Quil searched the depths of his memory, coming up with absolutely nothing that he could remember or, at the very least, anything that was worth remembering.
Instead, Quil gaped at Paul before deciding to grasp at straws, turning his stare to Emily.
"Can we fucking talk about something else?"
Emily blinked, taking a moment before she swallowed thickly. "Paul," she warned, even though her voice was meek. Even though it scratched at Quil's nerves because he swore there was a hint of her own curiosity in there somewhere. "They're just friends...the same way Bella is friends with the rest of us."
Paul snorted. "Yeah, because the rest of us totally spend every spare minute over at her house. Jake's her best friend and he's not even over there as much as you."
"Seriously, dude...what the fuck is your point?" Quil seethed, the interrogation game Paul was playing slowly starting to get under his skin. "You know why I'm there..."
"I think it's more than that," Paul interrupted with a shrug, reaching for his water glass. "Shitty part is she's totally friend-zoned you."
Quil bristled. "Excuse me?"
"Bella," Paul said slowly, leaning forward in his chair. Enunciating both syllables like he thought Quil couldn't have heard it even if he was standing on the road in front of the house. "She's friend-zoned you. She's got you running around, doing all the things a boyfriend would do, looking after Maddie, running errands, taking her to dinner...without any of the benefits."
It took Quil a long time to find his voice. Instead, his head rocked back and forth, face creasing beneath a deep frown as he tried to come up with any kind of decent response to that.
One that didn't involve kicking the crap out of Paul for even suggesting it.
Because at that point, he really fucking wanted to kick the crap out of him.
"I really think your mom dropped you on your head one too many times as a baby." Quil gaped at Paul in disbelief. "Especially if you think that's what I'm after."
Paul shrugged nonchalantly, like what he suggested wasn't the least bit offensive. "I'm just saying, man…"
Quil had a hard time finding any words. Somehow, though, he managed.
"You do realize we're talking about Bella, right? You know - the mother of Embry's kid."
Paul snorted again, but Quil didn't miss how his gaze pulled away and the cocky grin on his lips faltered.
"Yeah, well, it's not like Call's around to piss-pound you for barking up his tree."
"I should seriously knock you on your ass right now," Quil growled, crossing his arms tightly in front of his chest. "She's not making me do any of those things. I want to be there. I want to hang out with Maddie, and yeah...I enjoy spending time with Bella. That doesn't automatically mean I'm after more."
"Okay, fine. I'll give you that, but seriously...when is the last time you got laid?"
Quil's mouth fell open….
God dammit.
Quil had never been the poster child for chastity - not by a long shot, but when Paul asked him, he again found himself genuinely having to think about the last time he'd been with someone. The last time he'd even thought about it, or looked at one where the thought immediately followed.
It only took a handful of seconds for him to realize he hadn't - thought about it, looked at them, none of it - since before Embry died. All of it was applicable.
And something about it, combined with Paul's words, twisted his stomach in knots.
Like he was seeing something he hadn't realized before.
"Exactly," Paul muttered under his breath, not waiting for Quil's response. "And why would you go looking some place else? That's my point, man...pretty sure you spend most of your day where you wanna be anyway."
Quil still didn't speak. Even as Paul stood and shuffled out of the kitchen, snagging another roll for the road, he didn't move. Instead, he simply stared at his lap and wondered…
Where the hell it came from. Where Paul had gotten all those ideas and theories, or why he suddenly felt like he had any kind of insight worth sharing.
Pretty sure you spend most of your day where you wanna be anyway…
And Quil wondered about other things - things he'd never given a second thought, like how quickly he'd called his grandpa the week before to ask if he could check on his roof the following day. How he'd risked the old man's wrath and practically begged for forgiveness after Quil told him he'd send Jared instead.
How he hadn't really felt bad the moment he saw Bella sitting in that restaurant. How the smile she gave him when she first saw him lit up her entire face.
How much it had meant to him when he saw it.
How it took his fucking breath away in that moment, and how he hadn't given that much thought either.
How, in the months leading up to that moment, he found himself looking forward to the time he spent with her just as much as he did the time he spent with Maddie. How that little girl always seemed to give him a reason to get up in the morning. How he always seemed to smile around her mother...
How sometimes a little part of him enjoyed those moments more than the rest, sometimes in entirely different ways…
For entirely different reasons aside from the promise he made. Aside from the one reason and the person he told himself every day it was for.
But still Quil sat there, longer than he should have, losing track of where Emily was. Losing track of time as he brought up every single other reason in his head. Recycling them. Again and again.
As what Paul said to him - slowly, piece by piece - suddenly made a little more sense.
Heeeeere we goooooo! :D
Raise your hand if you never expected Paul to be the one to be the bearer of such remarkably good points...LOL
Anyway...thoughts?