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: "Silhouettes" by Of Monsters And Men

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Later that night, Quil was still smiling when he pulled the patchwork quilt over Maddie's sleeping body.

He was careful not to disturb her when he tucked it under her small frame, making sure she was snug in her bed before he straightened. Before he released a deep breath, making sure the night light was on before he turned and retreated silently from the room.

The strong, pungent aroma of brewing coffee filtered into Quil's nostrils the moment he closed the bedroom door behind him. It was a smell he loved, although he wasn't so fond of the taste. It usually took one or two - or ten - spoonfuls of creamer to make it tolerable for him. Still, he smiled anyway, appreciating the gesture.

It had been a good day, and a part of him was grateful that maybe Bella planned to let him stick around a little longer that night…

Because he hadn't really stopped thinking about what Paul said to him a month earlier or the questions it brought forward in his mind. And Quil would be lying if he said there wasn't a part of him that had purposely tried to spend more time with Bella. To find some shred of fallacy in the words, hoping maybe a little time would squelch it and put it all to rest.

But time hadn't helped.

In fact, it only made it worse.

Because suddenly Quil was aware of everything. How when he was home by himself, he suddenly wished he wasn't. How often he caught himself simply watching Bella as she moved around her house. How when she laughed, the sound of it curled around his insides and squeezed tight in a way he'd felt before but had been unable to place.

How every time she accidentally touched him, the feeling only got worse.

Fuck, he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with it...with any of it.

Rounding the corner, Quil took a deep breath before his gaze found Bella, leaning against the kitchen counter. She was still dressed in her clothes from the beach, a gauzy white cover-up obscuring everything beneath it and an empty coffee mug in her hand. She looked a million miles away, barely affording him a glance as he stepped into the room.

"She's asleep," Quil confirmed, shoving his hands in his pockets and offering Bella an easy smile when she finally looked up.

Something inside him leaped when she smiled in return.

He also hadn't realized how much he missed that - Bella's smiles. It had taken so long for her to even remember how to smile...and a part of him had been appreciating them even more than he had before, in yet another way he couldn't explain.

"Thank you," she whispered, her fingers curling a little tighter around the mug's handle.

"Hey, no problem," Quil replied, pushing himself off the doorframe before he eyed the percolator, imagining how good a cup of coffee with some vanilla creamer would be right that second. He knew he'd seen a bottle of it on the bottom shelf of the fridge the last time he was there. "I didn't even have to wear a tiara while telling her a bedtime story, so I'd call this one a pretty easy victory."

Bella just watched him, her smile staying where it was when he reached the counter beside her. Tipping his head down, a part of him was suddenly paralyzed as those chestnut eyes appraised him in a way he'd never seen before. As she pulled in a deep breath, releasing it.

Aside from that, she didn't say a single word as something shifted in her eyes. As they darted down for a single second.

To his mouth...

Quil wasn't sure why he was holding his breath, but he was. A part of him forgetting how to breathe when Bella finally looked away, placing the coffee mug on the kitchen counter just inches from his fingers.

He would never call Bella Swan sneaky, but somehow she was able to surprise him in that moment. Somehow, he missed when her hand reached out instead, curling around his t-shirt. Pulling him over from where he was, another part of him not sure why he moved so easily.

Why he was suddenly in front of her, bending forward, and why he could feel her other hand grasp at his waist.

Why he couldn't stop looking at those perfect, pink lips just before he covered them with his...

It was like someone flipped a switch, yet it was so completely effortless.

The coffee was long forgotten as Quil reached up, one hand pushing through Bella's hair as she clung to him, pulling him closer. As she nipped tentatively at his lower lip and he parted his, allowing her to deepen the kiss. Tasting the sweetness of her breath when it mixed with his.

It was hesitant but sure, and all Quil could feel were Bella's hands clasping his arms. Grazing his chest. Pushing under his shirt when she sighed against his mouth, turning that warmth he felt before into a deep, consuming burn in Quil's veins. Threatening to swallow him whole if he didn't slow down. If he didn't speed up. If he didn't think better of what was happening.

But she tasted so good. She felt so good, her tiny, inexplicably willing body pressed against his.

Fuck, he lost track of his movements. What was happening, but somehow Bella was in his arms. Somehow, he lifted her to the kitchen table, ignoring the items tumbling from it to the floor when her bare thighs hitched around his hips. She kissed him harder, her hand roughly gripping the back of his head when his hands moved to her front. When Quil silently cursed his big, meaty fingers when he found himself struggling with the buttons of the stupid piece of flimsy clothing she wore.

Fuck it…

The buttons gave way with a single flick of his wrist, each one flying in a different direction, skidding across the kitchen linoleum, disappearing into corners and under appliances.

"I hope you weren't a fan of that shirt," he whispered, grinning against Bella's lips.

"I have more," she growled, swallowing any response Quil may have had when she kissed him again. Drawing in a sharp breath through her nose when he pressed his weight against her - when he lowered her against the table, his mouth separating from hers. Subtle shivers misfired beneath his skin when he let his lips travel over the flesh just below her bathing suit top, kissing the spaces between her ribs. His mouth tasting the spot just above her belly button, every part of his body relishing the way she fucking trembled beneath his hands. The soft, breathy noises falling from her mouth.

God, what she was doing to him already, and this was only the first time. He'd thought about it, how she would…

He'd thought about it…

It only took a split fucking second for a crippling doubt to overcome the fire in Quil's veins. To make his lips still against Bella's skin, even though her small hands tightened in his hair. Tugging. Wanting more. Encouraging him, even if he didn't have a fucking clue why...or how they'd suddenly went from what they were to what they were doing in that moment.

If Bella was ready for it.

If he was ready for it…

Quil rocked back, crouching to the floor as Bella released him, heavy, conflicted breaths racking his chest. He glanced up in the dim kitchen lighting, seeing a flushed Bella blink at him, every part of her bewildered before she finally gathered her bearings. Before she sat up, her hands tentatively reaching out and brushing Quil's face with shaky fingers.

Pushing out a ragged breath, Quil straightened, not able to ignore how Bella's eyes followed. How she fought to catch her own breath. Her eyes…

How he could see the slightest flicker of hurt in them. Of rejection.

"I'm sorry," she breathed.

Fuck, that's not what he meant.

That's not how he wanted her to feel.

Lips parting, he reached out, taking her face between his hands this time.

"Don't. Don't say you're sorry," he insisted, shaking his head wildly. "I should be the one...I mean, it's just that…" Quil stopped, taking a breath and hanging onto those eyes watching him. Gathering his thoughts before he said another word.

"Is this what you want, Bella?" he questioned quietly, trying to project every ounce of sincerity and purpose he held inside him through a single look. "Do you...want things to be this way?"

Blinking, she dropped her gaze but not before Quil could see the conflict in it. Not before he could see he was probably right. That maybe his guilt and his uncharacteristic ability to pump the brakes had saved them both from making a huge mistake…

But then she looked back up, and Quil found himself holding his breath.

Every fiber of him waiting for her response.

The small, reserved smile - in comparison to moments earlier - melted his fucking heart.

"I want you here," she whispered, eyes wide and sincere. "And I wanted to know what that would feel like, even...even if I don't know what that means yet."

Quil tried to ignore what her words did to his insides - the hope they ignited - making it almost as prominent as the guilt that stopped him in the first place. This isn't why he had done it. This isn't why he had promised Embry, but after a year and a half of being there - a year and a half of watching Bella get stronger, every fucking day, and after a year and a half of watching Maddie grow - he couldn't think of a single thing he wanted more.

And it made him feel like the shittiest best friend in the world.

Which is how he knew he hadn't just stopped for Bella. He'd stopped for him, too.

Because he definitely wasn't ready either…

With a sigh, Quil leaned forward, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to Bella's forehead. Lingering there for a second as she allowed it, taking a deep breath and, for whatever reason, keeping that intoxicating scent of vanilla, lavender, and sea inside him for later.

"We can go slow," he suggested, lips moving against her skin. "Figure this out."

Bella leaned back, her eyes searching his for more, her expression filled with a resignation that both disappointed and comforted Quil.

"How?" she whispered, wanting a definite, even if Quil had no idea how to give her one.

Yet somehow, an answer still formed on his dry tongue.

"One day at a time, honey," he replied, giving her the smallest smiles even though she couldn't see it. "The same way we've been doing it this whole time."

*grins*

Thoughts?