*A/N: I'm sorry; I rewrote this chapter five times to get it right, and I hope I did the characters justice. I would love to thank my two betas for this next chapter, lavenderskyy and duskwatcher, who made this whole experience much better. I hope everyone agrees. :-) Enjoy, as always!

Chapter Summary: A little rough-housing goes a long way as Paul and Bella make noticeable changes to their lifestyle and personalities as they continue to share one roof. Things are really starting to look up as the two new roommates become more comfortable around each other, and even bond to a certain extent. That is until Paul asserts his dominance toward someone who he feels is less than adequate for Bella, and later reveals more about the imprint relationship than he wants to.

Chapter VIII: 'Show Me,' by Default

A few days later

I blinked furiously, trying to keep my eyes open and head up as I started to fall asleep, my neck jerking horribly at the involuntary motion. I was sitting in the rocking chair of my room, cross-legged with nose buried in Pride &Prejudice by Jane Austen when I heard a string of curses that would have made even Charlie cringe. I still wasn't sleeping very well and my thought had been to read a few chapters before I would attempt to doze off, although it was only a little before four in the afternoon. That dream went quickly out of the window as I heard the ongoing interruptions of blasphemy coming from the living room. Here and there, I briefly detected an announcer rambling off sports lingo, a language that I had never pretended to comprehend, and heat rose to my cheeks as Paul's assault on the English language with obscenities continued, which unfortunately I did understand. I sighed loudly, displaying my anger to an empty bedroom when the person that I was mad at was really downstairs, watching and swearing at a game on TV. At least, I think that was why he was swearing.

"Paul, could you keep the cursing to a minimum?" I called down to him very loudly. I heard nothing for a few seconds and when I was satisfied, my head went back down into my book. As soon as my face dipped again, Paul resumed, shouting out more profanity that I sincerely hoped was not directed toward me, for his sake. "Paul!" I screamed again. He did not answer. I slammed my Jane Austen closed and with book in hand, I stomped down the stairs. Paul made no move to look at me as I glared at the back of his head, passing him, and went straight into the small hallway to get my black hoodie from the closet.

"Where's the Swan flying off to?" Paul asked, stopping me from zipping up my hoodie right away. I turned, staring at his chest unintentionally-I hope-for a second before my eyes lifted to his face. He was shirtless, as usual, and in jeans.

"Shirt?" I interjected, trying to throw him off. I knew the answer before he said anything.

"Werewolf," he answered simply. "Where are you going?" Paul asked again.

I paused. "I am going outside to my truck."

"Why?"

"Because the werewolf that I live with won't keep quiet while I read upstairs," I snapped.

Paul made an ugly noise with his mouth. "That's what you were doing up there? Shit, Swan, who the fuck reads school books on a Wednesday afternoon?"

"I do!" I yelled.

He grinned. "You have a pretty loud scream for such a small thing."

I tapped my foot on the floor, concentrating on the noise so that my mind would not run aimlessly while looking at Paul. Paul was living in my house; a feat that I can only describe as "amazing" since we had yet to kill each other. I thought for sure that one of us would have given up by now, but he hadn't asked me to relinquish him of his duty to protect me, and as far as I know, he hadn't asked Sam to bail him out of this either, even if he had mentioned it our first morning together. Oh my God, our first morning together, Bella? I silently thought. This isn't a honeymoon-this is life and death. Victoria means you harm, your death...and Paul is life? Could Paul now be a real part of my life? I wanted him to be, if he wasn't already. I wasn't sure why. Aside from his jokes-crude, unnecessary, and too often-it was hard not to think and ponder what was going on in his mind.

I even dare to say, I wished that I could read his mind.

"Hey," Paul spoke suddenly, snapping his fingers. "Pay attention."

I shook my head, pretending that I had been listening all along. "I am," I lied. His head cocked as if studying me. I fidgeted. "Paul, will you keep your cursing down so that I can go back to reading upstairs?"

Paul ignored my question and turned completely around on the couch, his entire face and upper body in my view. "Whatchu reading anyway?" His voice was low, with a hint of confidence and swag that I couldn't help but notice.

"Pride & Prejudice," I responded automatically.

His eyebrows raised into his forehead. "That a chick novel?"

I shook my head, trying to hold in a chuckle for some reason. His tone turned so inquisitive that it resembled a curious child asking his parents a question, like "Where do babies come from?". Then again, I was almost one hundred percent sure Paul learned exactly how babies came to be, and had known for quite some time. "No," I meekly replied back, "but it is a romance novel."

He made another sour face. "Fuck that."

"Have you read it before?"

"No," he admitted adamantly.

I bit my lower lip, asking myself if I wanted to continue this conversation. "Then how do you know you won't like it? I'm sure there are a lot of things that you haven't tried yet you hate them."

"I never tongued a bloodsucker before either, but I know I won't like that," he retorted.

I kept my mouth in a tight line, now knowing I definitely did not want to pursue this exchange with Paul. "I am going outside to read," I announced again, and twisted myself away from him.

"Don't get pulled under a bridge by the troll, alright?" he called after me.

I gave a small turn, cleverly avoiding tripping for once in my life, and answered over my shoulder. "There are no such things as trolls," I snapped back.

"Yeah, right," he said, while grinning. "No such thing as leeches or werewolves either."

I didn't answer him as I went outside, intent on proving to him that not only could I stay out of trouble, but that I would also be able to read my romance novel in peace. I hopped in as carefully as I could into the bed of my truck, stumbling some as I grabbed onto the Chevy's side.

"Good work, Bella," I said softly, congratulating myself in my second daring thing of the past three minutes.

I was happy that I seemed to not be as clumsy as I use to be. I pulled on the bottom of my jeans so that my legs would get a little air as I stretched them out, and I zipped up the rest of my black hoodie, feeling a bit of wind pick up. The sun was still high at four, so I took my time rereading the first few pages of the book, my eyes scanning for any minor detail that I might have missed while inside my room minutes ago. Pride & Prejudice was not a new story for me; the characters Elizabeth Bennett and Fitzwilliam Darcy were a big part of the small and childish fantasy I had for myself. How wonderful and horrible it would be to find that the person you hate is the one you are destined to be in love with. It was not like that at all with Edward; I had loved him from the beginning. But then again, I had never experienced much of anything else before Edward. My own thoughts pulled me away temporarily from the first few pages of Mr. and Mrs. Bennet's discussion of their five daughters for a moment as I pondered over my former relationship with my vampire love, Edward.

I was down to thinking of Edward only a few times during the day, but I hardly felt anything anymore when his name echoed in my head. Many people would say that "out of sight, out of mind" holds true in this situation, but I did not believe that at all; it was as if my feelings for Edward had finally come full circle and were beginning to heal. The hole in my chest was no longer overbearing or even tolerable as I had originally thought when the voice and notion of Edward first started to disappear. The pain had just simply vanished. Almost at the same time I had discovered werewolves in Forks. Or Paul in Forks, whatever. I stopped that thought before it could form and shrugged, going back to my book. I no longer wanted to reflect on the disappearance of Edward. What was done was done, and Edward wasn't coming back.

No sooner than I had reached the chapter where Elizabeth and Darcy first meet at the Bingley's mansion, I felt a poke at my shoulder, rocking my body and the Chevy slightly.

"I'm bored," Paul proclaimed before my head could finish lifting.

My eyes widened as I finally met his stare, seemingly taking a long time. Could I really not wait to look into Paul's eyes again? I pushed that thought out of my mind as well. "So to cure your boredom, you've decided to watch me read?" I asked with more malice than I meant. Paul could act so childish.

Paul would not let up. "Nothing else to do."

"Weren't you watching a game before?"

Paul nodded.

"You don't want to finish it?" I questioned.

"I guess not."

"Why?" I insisted.

Paul's eyes suddenly hardened. "What?" he started, sounding outraged. "Don't like having me around already?"

"What—no!" I exclaimed, embarrassed that I may have hurt his feelings. "Of course not. That's not what I meant at all." I dropped my eyes. "If you're sure you want to watch me read—"

"I don't want to watch you read. I want you to read to me," he clarified.

I shook my head, feeling self conscious and nervous. Edward was the only one I had ever read to, and now Paul wanted to do something that reminded me of Edward. I didn't want to make memories of Paul conflict with my memories of Edward. "Why the change of heart?" I asked, attempting to dissuade him. "It's 'a chick book,' remember?"

Paul would not be swayed so easily and climbed into the truck, a whiff of him making my mouth hunger for things other than food. I carefully folded the book in my lap as he thumped on the truck's bed."If it's such a good book, show me," he commanded. "Start reading it to me, and I'll tell you what I think."

I gave a small chuckle. "Won't you tell me what you think of it anyway?"

After some seconds of deliberation, Paul smiled. "Probably," he admitted. "Read, Swan."

I looked at him again. "I read to Edward too," I said, hoping that he would understand what I was conveying behind the statement.

"I'm not the bloodsucker; read to me," Paul ordered again, his expression hard.

I sighed, knowing that I would not be able to convince him of another activity. I opened the book again, spreading it wider so that he may see the pages if he wanted to, and he sat closer to me in the truck's bed, pushing his jean-covered legs under mine. The movement made me feel at ease, an immense rush of heat running through my legs as he sat almost still while I began to read. He lasted about two minutes before he started acting like himself again.

"Any sex in this book?" he interrupted.

I blushed. "Well, it's—it's implied, Paul. Kind of, but not really," I stammered. I suddenly realized that there were no real sex scenes in the novel either; I had never noticed that before.

"No sex? Fuck, this is going to suck big time," Paul swore. "Alright, so the sex scenes are implied, sort of? Any pictures of it?"

"Goodness, no, Paul!"

Paul groaned, his head hitting my shoulder. He began banging his head softly into the side of my neck. "What have you done to me, Swan?" he asked rhetorically. "Make it stop, make it stop," Paul repeated as his head continued to collide playfully at my side.

I started to laugh. "Paul, quit it, you big beast," I said jokingly. I pushed his face back, my fingers slipping into his soft hair, and rummaged his scalp. His right leg began to intertwine with my left, his hot skin brushing my ankle. I jumped at the sudden spike of heat. Paul stopped and his eyes trailed down to the reddened area where we touched. He stared at my ankle for seconds. "What? What are you looking at?" I asked nervously.

"Your ankles."

I relaxed a little. "Is that your favorite part on a woman?"

Paul gave me a seductive smirk. "Sort of," he answered.

My face grew warm again, trying to shy away from him, but my body would not cooperate; it did not obey the logic in my brain to leave Paul's gaze. "Why is that?" I asked timidly. "Don't…don't most guys like breast and butt?"

"I love a good pair of tits and ass too," Paul commented, "but I like your ankles."

"Oh. Okay, thanks," I replied sheepishly.

"Yeah," he whispered, his raspy voice and mouth disappearing into my hair. "They'd look great around my neck."

I gasped. "Gosh, Paul," I cried out. "That is so…that is so you." I laughed. I wasn't even mad. "Why am I no longer surprised by what comes out of your mouth anymore?"

Paul flicked at my hoodie's zipper. "Been with me too long."

"Maybe," I agreed. "I feel like I know you already."

"Not all of me."

"Well, I know your favorite food: burgers. I know you don't snore, you're favorite part on a woman," I continued to rattle off, counting on my fingers. "You hate wearing shirts, like the rest of the pack," I said knowingly, "and you're a nice guy, but you hate showing it," I finished.

It sounded like Paul stopped breathing. Or maybe all I wanted to do was concentrate on his voice. His eyes narrowed, still holding in a breath. "Who said I was nice?" he challenged.

I held my ground, not fulfilling my need to breathe either. "I did," I said stubbornly.

He gave a short bray. "And you've never been wrong?" Paul mocked. "Trusting and being in love with a parasite didn't get you any smart points in my book."

My body went closer to his face, almost like a pull. The gap between us was a mere two inches. "You're not a vampire," I stated, obviously.

Paul leaned in even more. "You don't love me," he said, sounding as if he was accusing me.

My stomach jumped at his words. "I could," I blurted out. Paul's eyes widened and he withdrew. I could swear I started to shiver the moment my body lost contact with his. I thought my lungs were going to collapse until I remembered to take in air. His aroma gave me a small bit of strength as I struggled with my next few statements. "I mean, I…I could love you as a friend. We're friends now, right?" I asked uncertainly. "You hate me less than everyone else now, right?"

"What, we got a love-hate thing like the characters in your book?"

"Well," I swallowed hard before continuing, "We didn't quite get that far in the story yet, but I don't hate you, Paul. I never hated you," I admitted.

Paul's mouth twitched, but he seemed less standoffish than before. "Alright, friend, I want a burger," he said abruptly. "Or ten."

That might have been as sentimental as Paul would get this afternoon. I gave in. "Okay."

Paul moved out of the truck first and I stood up, thinking that my luck would hold as I made my way to the lip of the bed when I slipped. My body jerked as I landed in Paul's outstretched arms. My cheeks burned from embarrassment and then the flame intensified from my thoughts of my body hugging Paul's, without pesky nuisances like noisy neighbors or clothes. Without clothes? My mind shrieked at me. I looked at him apologetically as if he could hear my thoughts, but Paul just stared back at me, the tone in his eyes tender as he kept his arms wrapped around my waist for much longer than two friends should, as we had claimed to be a minute ago.

"Thank you," I murmured weakly.

Paul said nothing as he continued to hold me, not letting go. I smiled shyly and rubbed his shoulder with my palm, not sure if his bare skin would be too hot for me to handle just then, but as my fingers touched his smooth, russet tan, I found that he was my perfect temperature. My eyes started to fall before I could catch them, and the side of my head drifted down, touching Paul's upper chest. I could hear his heart beating, the sound clogging my ears. The rhythm felt welcoming, lulling me into a sleep that I had forgotten about the past couple of nights as my nightmares kept me from dreaming pleasant dreams, and the fearful thoughts of Victoria haunted me as I laid awake. I was safe in Paul's arms. I was safe anywhere he was.

I abruptly shook myself awake, feeling Paul's arms suddenly tense. "Sorry," I apologized. "I haven't been sleeping very well. I didn't mean to doze off like that."

"It's cool. I get it...I hear you at night," he said quietly.

My eyes lit up. "Hear me what?" I asked nervously. Oh no, I hope Paul hadn't heard me all those times I masterbated-

"I hear you when you can't sleep," he added, interrupting my thoughts. "You toss and turn, remember?"

My hands shook against him a little, my anxiety and the feel of his arms keeping me on my toes. "Do I keep you awake?"

"That's not what keeps me awake."

I held my breath again. "What keeps you up?"

He was hesitant, but his eyes never left my face. I suddenly felt like his answer was the one thing in my life that I had been waiting for, the one thing I knew for sure that I wanted to hear. Lines appeared in his otherwise youthful, but mature forehead. "Wondering," he spoke softly.

"Wondering what?" I pressed.

"Wondering what the Swan did to piss off the leeches so much," he said, chuckling a little as he did so. "There is one trying to kill you, you know."

I joined, breathing, and tightening my grip around him again. Maybe he was not aware that I was holding him, I thought. He felt so good to hold. "I'm great for upsetting people or haven't you noticed? They love me and leave me," I added, taking a stab at myself.

Paul's head was touching mine, his neck angled down to my craning one.

"You do have a knack for that," he agreed. "You certainly did piss off the Prince." My eyes widened as Paul further explained. "The 'let's be friends' remark a couple of weeks ago was funny, and it dashed his hopes and dreams of the future," he said, laughing harder. "You have no idea how his ego was burned when you said that to him on the beach."

"How...how did you know about that?" I asked, amazed. "And I wasn't trying to hurt him-"

"Please, he needs a reality check sometimes," Paul said harshly, cutting me off. "And there's no secrets in the pack."

I nodded, remembering what Jared had said at the market. "So," I began, "does that mean I can ask your packmates about what you really think of me?"

Paul's face seemed panicked for a moment. "No, don't," he said quickly.

"Why?" I asked, my curiosity searching to be satiated.

"Cause I'd tell you without you having to ask them," Paul answered.

"And what do you think?"

"You're not so bad," he replied. "For a leech-lover."

I smiled. "And you're not such a big, bad wolf either," I joked, the center of my hands going numb in his radiating, but pleasant heat. Paul's eyes darted for a moment, but then refocused on me. His fingers could have burnt themselves into my clothing and I would have been grateful. No more clothes between us, my mind repeated, taunting me.

"Shampoo," he whispered.

"Huh?" I asked, confused.

"Shampoo. It's peach, right? I like your peach shampoo," he explained. "You were listing the things that I liked and I wanted to add that I like your peach shampoo. The smell is better than the strawberry one."

"You like my peach shampoo?" I asked again, just to be sure. "Really? I've always been told that my strawberry shampoo-"

"I like peach," Paul stated firmly at first, but then added quietly, "It smells good on you."

"Okay," I conceded. "I'll wash my hair with peach. That's what you like."

For a moment, it seemed as if Paul was satisfied; the tension from his body was gone and our web of tangled arms and legs became one continuous array of winding roads and turns that we each had to take, but we could bear it because we had each other. Not an inch of my skin was cold, but I felt exposed. More exposed than I had ever been with anyone, and Paul had been the one to make me feel that way. I wanted his touch to linger even if he had gone away. Five feet or five hundred miles, I wanted to feel where he was. My need for him had changed so suddenly, and all because I had looked into his eyes, felt his stare, and beheld him with my arms. I was almost sure that Paul was feeling the same way about me as I became aware of just how long we had been standing together, holding each other in the driveway. And then Paul's face became a sudden mask of stone.

"Good." Paul's voice was stern and harsh, but he seemed abruptly uncomfortable.

I was not sure why admitting that he liked something on me made him feel that way, but I decided to drop it, taking pity on him. I guess Paul was not big nor comfortable with confessions. "Maybe after I fix you something, I'll take a nap," I said dreamily. I knew that that would happen; however, I still yawned at the perfect time. "Since it's not me that keeps you up, has your sleep gotten any better?" I asked, trying to stifle the next yawn. "Be truthful. No jokes about the vampire who wants to kill me."

"Not really," he responded.

My face turned into a tired smile. "I keep asking if you want me to make up Charlie's bed. Anything else I can do?" I offered.

"Stop asking me that."

I blinked, now fully awake. "Why can't I ask you that?"

Paul gave a small grunt. "It gives me ideas...," he trailed off, leaving it open to my own interpretations.

"Oh, sorry," I said, relieved. "That's very nice of you, by the way. You're concerned about how you appear to me."

He slapped his head with one hand, still holding onto me loosely with his other arm. "Shit, Swan, you're right. I must be losing it." Paul shook his head methodically. "I haven't gotten laid since I've been in this house, and I think it's starting to affect my brain."

"Well, don't start humping my leg," I joked.

Paul grinned back. "I promise nothing until I eat."

"Okay, okay, I'll fix you something," I said, laughing.

He followed behind me into the house. I dropped my book on the dining table as I went to the sink, opening cupboards for the buns, and then the fridge for the frozen patties. The phone rang and I walked across the kitchen to pick it up, Paul watching me.

"I bet it's more noisy people," he commented.

Paul might have been right; even after more than a week since Charlie's funeral, I was still getting thoughtful phone calls and cards from well-wishers in Forks. It would have been touching except that I hated being the center of attention; the more people that were watching me in Forks, the more likely they were to discover that something was 'off' in my house. By 'off,' I meant huge Quileute werewolf living in my house. I had been dodging Mike and his questions about everyone in the group hanging out after school, but I knew that I couldn't keep that up. It was times like these that I wished I had caller ID.

It was also annoying to have people at school, in town, and even the pack with all eyes on me. I felt helpless. It wasn't right for me to monopolize so many people's times, but I just didn't know how I could stop getting into trouble—or at least stop trouble from finding me.

I nodded and took the phone off the cradle. "Hello?" I listened on the other end before responding any further. "Oh, hi, Mrs. Crawford." Paul was right again. I began talking on the phone with my neighbor from down the road, Mrs. Crawford. She wanted to know if she could bring me anything for dinner or have me over at her house. She had liked Charlie a lot and sometimes gave him bottled peach preserves. She didn't know that Charlie really hadn't eaten much fruit. After a few minutes, Paul was visibly getting more annoyed that he was no longer my main focal point.

"You're doing it wrong again. You should have been off the phone by now," Paul said none-too-quietly, stepping closer to me. I quickly covered the receiver to try and block him out while taking several small steps back. "Let me get her off the phone," Paul continued to hum in my hair, my body temperature hitting the roof. Does he have this effect on all women?

I turned away from him, glaring. Well, maybe not me. I sighed. He was being rude again. "No thank you, again, Mrs. Crawford," I repeated over the phone. "I'll be just fine on my own. There's plenty of food." Or what was left of it. Paul seemed to eat half of the refrigerator each day. If it weren't for the pack's combined efforts of helping with food, I didn't think that I could keep feeding him.

"Well, if you're sure, dear."

"You have nothing to worry about, Mrs. Crawford. I have to go now. Thanks again for calling. Goodbye." I hung up the phone before she could say anything else, relaxing because the conversation ended; she was starting to sound way too much like my mother.

Paul pushed his head into my back; it was his way of getting me to pay attention him. I swear that he was starting to turn into his wolf without the need for phasing. "Stop it," I tried to say sternly, but faltered on the last word. "I told you about being so rude. What's wrong with you?" I asked, turning toward him with my arms beginning to cross in annoyance, setting the phone down on the counter.

"You would've been off the phone sooner if you were meaner," he groaned, pouting. "That's why people from town keep calling here."

"Let me fix this for you and then you'll be so preoccupied with eating that you won't have time to add your two cents about who calls my phone."

"But I'm bored again," Paul whined.

I looked at him doubtfully. "You want to go out? You need someone from the pack to relieve you?"

"No."

"Want to watch more TV?" I asked. "Maybe something else is on now."

He shook his head.

"Computer?"

"Takes too damn long to boot up."

I tapped him lightly on the arm. "Well, I'll start the computer up now and when I finish the burgers, you'll eat, and then be ready to go online." I started moving in the kitchen again after I replaced the phone. I then noticed that Paul was following every move I made, from wiping off the counter to setting up the kitchen's small dinner table. "What?" I asked, turning to him. "Why are you mimicking me?"

"It's entertaining for right now."

I pointed into the living room. "TV."

"Na-ah."

"Go sit," I said, my face breaking into a grin.

Paul bumped me with his head again, behaving like a bull. I started to giggle uncontrollably.

"Entertain me, Swan, or I'm going to get you in trouble."

"What, are you going to get into the stored, dry goods and make a mess?" I asked. Paul nodded, making me laugh. "Want to go for a drive? I'll roll down the window so can you stick your head out." His head pushed into my neck and I could swear I heard him inhale sharply. I continued with my chuckling, trying to block out the intimate details I was beginning to think of acting on. The way his fingers explored my body without invitation, but his touch was not unwanted. Paul could have easily overpowered me in every way, but he didn't. He should have forced himself on me by now, but he hadn't. Oh gosh, did I want him to? I asked myself as Paul started to twirl me around the kitchen, making my equilibrium shift. I was dizzy with laughter, my stomach in knots, and my legs were jelly. Paul became the energy behind my movements and all I could think of to do was just internally beg not to ruin it.

He pulled my hoodie, drawing me close to him again, his eyes and smile bright. "Swan," he whispered. I could smell the maple on his body again, and it was more than intoxicating; it was just on the brink of heaven.

It was then I noticed that he had one hand behind his back. The look on his face turned devious and my eyes searched his. "What's behind you, Paul?"

"This," he responded. My hands went up to shield my body just as Paul squeezed the trigger to the sink's water hose, spraying water at me.

I yelped and drew back, but Paul grabbed me, spraying a decent amount of my hoodie, my jeans, and wetting the floor. "Paul!" I sputtered as water splashed me. He stopped. I looked at him in anger for a moment before he thrusted his 'weapon' into my sopping wet hands.

"I did you, now you do me," he said.

I glanced down at the hose for a second before I turned it and sprayed him. I laughed as his face scrunched up at the cold blast, his palms blocking a little more of the water than my hands had done. I blasted him a few more times, twice in the face for good measure, and then allowed the hose to drip onto the floor. I was soaked, my clothes clinging to me. I felt stiff and my skin was already starting to chafe under the rapidly dampening fabric of my jeans and hoodie, my tee underneath already a part of my skin.

Paul 'tsked-tsked' and smiled proudly. "This friend got you wet."

I tried to hold in a joined chuckle. "Can the friend hand me a towel, please?"

He handed me a towel hanging from the door knob. I started to take it from him when he began rubbing my damp arms with the towel and his hands. His heat penetrated to my bones, completely bypassing my clothing and skin altogether. Paul rubbed the outside of my hands with his palms, making a small cup that he started to huff and puff into. The warm breaths felt almost as good as his skin against me felt. Almost.

"You—you don't have to keep doing this," I said, trying to fight back the tiny shivers that had nothing to do with the cold. "Should I towel you off next?" I joked.

"I'm dry already," he said.

"Dry?" I put a hand on his arm and sure enough, he was already dry. His whole body was a continuation of how my bones felt under his touch. Darn werewolves. I allowed myself to linger on his arms as he continued to softly blow on the fingers of my clammy left, still enveloped in his massive hands. Goosebumps were on my skin. He moved over my left wrist, gently thumbing it. My face turned into a beet. "See, I told you that you were nice," I said quietly.

Paul's face fell a little and his hand dropped to my waist.

Suddenly the phone rang again, startling me and annoying Paul. "Who the fuck is it now?" Paul roared. He took one glance at the phone, got an irritated look across his face, and reached for it. Before I could stop him, he answered it. "Hello?" he bellowed into the receiver. I tried to grab the phone away from him, but he held me back with one arm easily. "She's busy. Stop calling here and spreading gossip to all your friends. Get a life!" Paul yelled, and then slammed the phone down. "That's how you do it, Swan," he declared afterwards.

"Paul, who was that?"

"Some shit from school, I think. He sounded like a bitch when I answered the phone."

I pushed him in anger. Who did he think was to answer my phone like that? I was about to push him again when the phone rang. When Paul reached to answer it, I gave him a nasty look and grabbed the phone from out his hand. He let me this time.

"Hello?" I asked frantically.

"Bella? Bella, its Mike. Who was that that answered the phone before?" a male, but shaky voice answered back.

"He's just a friend helping out, Mike." I sighed and shooed Paul away. Paul made some small noise and inserted me into his open legs, moved his head into my neck, and wrapped his arms loosely around me. It helped to soothe my anger toward him in seconds, drowning out bits and pieces of my conversation with Mike.

"Well, he sounded mean. He didn't have to hang up on me," Mike whined. "Is he staying with you?"

My senses became alert. "Huh?"

"The guy who hung up on me," Mike said again. "Is he staying with you?"

My eyes widened. "No, he lives on the rez," I stated quickly.

"Oh, is it that kid that came with us to the movies? You know, the over eager one?"

"No, Mike." My mind raced with a good description of Paul, but none came to me. At least not one I felt comfortable admitting to Mike. "This is a different friend," I wound up saying.

"Oh, okay that's cool." Mike sounded calmer. "Well, will the different friend let you hang out with us this weekend?"

I shook my head, feeling Paul's soft hair underneath my jaw. Paul continued to stay silent. "No," I answered. "I mean, he would. Paul would, but I don't feel quite up to it yet."

"But, Bella, you've been in that house for awhile. In fact, no one ever sees you unless you're at school or at the supermarket, and then you're always with one of those rez kids. What's up?" Mike commented. "We Forks high school Spartans aren't good enough for you that you have to hang out with them all the time? And hell, man, those guys are huge. Do they take steroids or something?"

Paul trembled, making my voice quake with him. "N-no. No steroids; they're all natural. It's in their genes, I think." Literally, I silently added.

"Well, that's just too damn big in my opinion. So anyway, what about this weekend then, Bella?"

"Mike, seriously, I'm not up for it," I insisted.

"Well, what's going on with tonight?"

"Uh, homework," I shrugged, shaking Paul a little looser.

"For Literature? You still haven't done that? Great; we'll all come by, do some homework, and watch a movie after. It's only five."

"Well, I—I have Paul here and—"

"Well, maybe he'll learn something too," Mike replied easily, sounding proud. "I doubt that the rez school has the same curriculum as we do. What do you say, Bella?"

Giving up and trying to keep my tone leveled from a still shaking Paul, I answered, "Yeah, okay. Come on over, but I'll be in my pajamas by then." I fingered my still slightly damp hoodie.

"With that guy there? Really?"

"He's harmless; besides, they'll be thermal."

"Okay," Mike whistled. "See you in a bit." And he hung up.

I looked at Paul, whose eyes were on me as I withdrew from his arms. "If you don't want to be here when they come over—"

"I'm not leaving you here with that kid," Paul interrupted. "He's just as bad as the leeches."

"He can't be any worse than you," I joked. "You can't keep your hands to yourself either."

Paul blinked, looking hurt. "Whatever. Play with your friends," he sneered.

"Could you please behave when they're here?"

"Stop treating me like a dog," he snapped.

Immediately, I felt the mood in the room change. "I'm sorry I got mad at you," I apologized. "Do you still want me to fix you something?"

"No."

"No, what?" I prompted, knowing it was pointless.

"No," he repeated, more harshly.

We still had to work on Paul's manners.

Paul's eyes stayed dark, the shade of uprooted dirt next to a spir tree, as I placed a balmy hand on the front door to turn it, letting in Mike and the rest of my schoolmates. I almost lost my lunch when I saw Mike's red and black pirate lounge pajamas, but his friendly smile destroyed the urge. I didn't want to make my guests feel bad, even if I hadn't formally invited them over; however, a few people of the entourage were a pleasant addition.

Mike brought over Angela, Ben, Lauren, Jessica, and Tyler. Eric couldn't make it on such short notice, but I was secretly relieved; I didn't think the house could take any more people at one time. Everyone else was in pajamas, in attempt to make it seem like we were having a big slumber party at my house. Lauren and Jessica wore matching white camisoles, black boy shorts, and a semi-short robe, navy blue and ash gray respectively. Both of their sea-blue eyes darted across the room, instantly landing on Paul. Their coy smiles warranted a tiny twitch in Paul's ruddy face and my annoyance spiked a little, the heat of my blood rising to my skin to combat the green envy.

Angela sighed, lightly touching my thermal covered sleeve, and lead me toward the middle of the living room. She was wearing leggings and a long, thin, black t-shirt (probably Ben's), which she hoisted up a little as she placed her overflowing school bag on the floor. I guess everyone had made her the mule. She gave me a bright, but tired grin as she pulled me to the floor to sit with her. Mike and Ben did not wait for Lauren and Jessica to stop ogling Paul and started to move the coffee table closer to the TV so that we would be able to spread out and do homework.

"Hi," Lauren said to Paul.

I turned in curiosity to see what Paul's response would be, though I wasn't sure why, and saw Tyler quickly roll his eyes and move next to Ben, plopping himself down loudly onto the hardwood. Paul's nostrils flared in Lauren's direction, almost like he was annoyed, before he just looked away. He ended up not answering Lauren, but backed up slightly toward the banister and sat on the stairs, watching all of us with a less than cordial stare. I had to fight back a small, smug smile even though I wasn't normally vindictive; Lauren just had it coming to her. Or maybe I was just glad that Paul didn't want to run after every girl in sight.

Lauren, however, looked flustered at Paul's noncompliance. "What's his problem?" she huffed to the rest of us in something a bit higher than a whispered tone. "Doesn't he like girls? Jackie sure got a handful."

I shrugged and my imprisoned grin almost broke free. The rest of my classmates almost appeared to lose interest in my additional house-guest when Paul suddenly rolled up his short-sleeved, burgundy t-shirt, displaying his huge, muscular arms. I think I even heard Angela make a noise beside me.

"Wow," Jessica muttered. "I really, really want to transfer to that school on the reservation."

Lauren shook her head, suddenly becoming more courageous. "I really, really want to see the rest of what's underneath that shirt."

"It's not a big deal," I spilled out. I distinctively heard the room go utterly silent, out of shock; I knew the room was deathly quiet because I heard Paul snort loudly as if he disagreed with me. My face immediately blushed, but I wasn't positive if it was because of the envious looks that I was getting from Lauren and Jessica or because I had just told an outright lie; I knew the Greek goddess, Artemis, would set the moon low from the sky just to shine it toward Paul, to marvel at his procured muscles. Jeez, Bella, quite reading so many school books, I scolded myself. Maybe Paul was right; I did read a bit much.

Ben gave a low, uncomfortable laugh before saying, "Let's get to this homework then, shall we guys?"

Mike agreed, moving first, giving Paul a small nod of acknowledgment, and then separated from Ben's side. He walked over and stood next to me while Ben sat next to Angela on the floor. I groaned, still flustered, and slumped against the couch, already wishing this ordeal to be over; the night was not going well so far.

Lauren, Mike, and Ben started talking amongst themselves, leading the chat, and discussing what each person in our group would look for in the Lit assignment. Angela and I watched them give orders, and glanced at each other to communicate without speaking. She suddenly made a choking/gag face and the redness in my cheeks began to dissipate when Jessica suddenly addressed me.

"That is the same kid from the boat show, right?" Jessica whispered. How many guys do they think I know?

"Uh huh, that's Paul," I answered instead and without lowering my voice, knowing full well that Paul would hear us no matter what.

"He looks cuter up close. Even in the absence of a girl's hand down his pants," Lauren said, another giggle following. I still wasn't completely sure why Lauren was even here. We had never gotten along. My guess was that she had heard through the grapevine that Paul was here and made up an excuse to come over to the house. "Is he staying here?" Lauren asked.

"How long?" Jessica supplied, not wanting to feel left out of my inquisition for too long.

"He doesn't stay here," I clarified quickly. "Believe it or not, he's pretty easy to talk to." When he's not saying something nasty, I said to myself. "It helps having him around."

"We'd be around more for you, if you'd let us," Mike suddenly said, putting an arm around my shoulder.

I forced a smile and pulled back slowly, so not to draw any more attention to my unwanted popularity. "Thanks, Mike."

"Well of course, Bella," Lauren added. "You're our friend too. Why should only the rez kids have all the fun? Then again," Lauren's grin turned evil as she continued, "I'd love to spend my time with them, too, if they all look like him."

"Yeah, me, too," Jessica quipped in.

Angela abruptly bumped me with her shoulder. My pen almost flew out of my hand. "How is everything else?" She asked. "How have you been, you know, without your dad?"

I knew that question would be raised sooner or later. "It's been tough, but all is pretty quiet. Very quiet." That much was true. The pack still hadn't picked up a scent, but Sam was insistent that someone be here with me at all times.

"That's good. You need the quiet," Angela said softly. "Stuff like that never happened in Forks before." Her fingers drummed the open notebook she was holding, but she seemed unaware of what her body doing; her face was the picture of comfort for a woman-a mother, even-in her thirties and forties, but not in her teens. It might have been from dealing with her younger, twin siblings. Or Emily was not the only kindly and kindred spirit in Forks. I tried to keep my emotions masked, the effort stinging my face and heart a little.

"Yeah, weird stuff started happening when you moved here," Lauren cut in through my emotional roller-coaster.

"No, good things happened when she moved here," Mike defended. "Right, Bella?"

"Yeah, sure," I replied back, not knowing what else to say. Mike seemed satisfied and buried his head back into his homework. I wiped at my face, in case any evidence was showing from my almost-breakdown some seconds ago.

It was rough pretending that I didn't already do the homework; I was a terrible liar. When we were finally finished, we all closed our books, packed them back into Angela's large bag, and positioned ourselves in front of the TV to watch a movie. Jessica had brought over a "gem" from what she called her extensive video library. That was exactly how she put it. She selected Kill Bill, Volume 1; a story of a female assassin who sought revenge against those who tried to have her killed. I had never heard of it.

Lauren tossed her shoulder length hair back and looked at Paul again. "Want to watch this with us?" Lauren asked. "You've been pretty somber."

"Depends," Paul answered easily. "Will she let me talk now?"

I turned red, embarrassed that the others would think that Paul couldn't converse without my permission. "I never said you couldn't talk, Paul."

"Might as well have."

"Well, you can talk. I give you permission to speak," I said, throwing in a dog command to see if he would smile. He didn't.

"I'm sitting next to you," Paul demanded immediately.

I hated to admit that a small surge of pride went through me when Paul declared his request so openly, but it was quickly dashed when I remembered that we were not alone in the room. Five pairs of my classmates eyes jumped over to me in astonishment, while one set narrowed with determination.

"Well, I get the other side of you then," Mike spoke up. His slouching body immediately turned rigid and his expression was tense, but Paul's dark eyes and scowl were far more intimidating. And more for me to worry about.

I widened my eyes and looked at both of them. This was not going to end well. "How about you split me for half the movie? I don't think all three of us can fit on the couch."

"Well, I'm not freakishly huge," Mike spat, attempting to get to his feet quickly.

"Forgive me if we can't all be meager and weak. Blame it on Darwin and his theory of natural selection," Paul bit back, his deep voice dropping into that of a growl by his second sentence.

When Mike didn't say anything for a few moments, I rose to meet Paul's glare. "Paul, enough. Do we have a deal or not?" I put my hands on my hips. "You guys need to work this out because I'm Team Switzerland!" I announced.

Mike's expression turned confused. "Team what?"

I shook my head. "Look, the bottom line is this: if sharing me for the movie doesn't meet either of your approvals, then I'll sit with Ben and Angela for the whole movie. How about that?" I challenged.

Ben laughed and stood next to me, pulling my arm playfully, and brought me closer to his side. "I don't mind being stuck in the middle of you and Ang," Ben gloated.

"And I wouldn't mind being next to you, Paul," Lauren said boldly. My fingers dug in my palms, my mind alerting to the pain in my hands rather than the stab of annoyance I felt for Lauren's obvious and continued interest in Paul. Why couldn't she let up and leave him alone? I took a deep low breath and took it as a sign that lack of sleep was the reason behind my growing temper, and had nothing to do with my feelings for Paul. He was a friend, afterall.

"I would also love to sit with you," Jessica added, stepping closer to our circular face-off.

"Shit, you two are popular," Tyler commented as he pointed to me and Paul.

I ignored Tyler's remark and pressed, "Is it a deal then, guys? Mike? Paul?"

Paul shrugged and Mike nodded in agreement. Paul sat on the floor in front of the couch, and Lauren grabbed a pillow to sit on next to him. Jessica went on his other side. Angela and Ben cuddled in Charlie's old reclining chair that he only used to watch sports games. Tyler sat close to them in a small wooden chair, and Mike plopped down next to me, immediately putting his arm behind me on the couch. As long as he didn't actually touch me, we were fine.

I was able to pay attention to the first ten minutes of the movie (cringing at the amount of blood loss) and then was lost thereafter. Lauren and Jessica soon started to giggle, whispering in Paul's ears about things I couldn't hear though I found myself straining a little bit to. I sat on my fingers, and breathed deeply again. To keep my eyes off of the proximity of Lauren and Jessica's closeness to Paul, I concentrated on the gory action film once more, but it did not help that I could hear Paul's deep, throaty comments to my two other classmates.

"Ladies, no fair," Paul whispered flirtatiously, finally loud enough for me to hear, as Lauren and Jessica both took turns touching his stretched out forearms. "You two can touch me, but I'm not allowed to touch you."

"Any particular reason?" Jessica murmured back. Why could I hear them so well now? I cried inside, angry at myself. I changed my mind; it was better for me not to know what they discussed amongst themselves.

"I'm not allowed to play," Paul complained.

I turned my head at his insinuation, tongue in cheek. "I don't own you, Paul. You can do what you want."

"In that case, take off your shirt, Lauren," Paul said abruptly.

"Paul, no!" I exclaimed. I swear I could hear the blood in my right temple running a marathon.

"She wasn't going to do it anyway," Tyler said, crossing his legs in the chair.

"Maybe I wouldn't do it for you, but Paul is different," Lauren said nastily.

"Ouch, sorry there, T." Paul laughed.

"It's Tyler," Tyler snapped.

Paul turned his sights to him, his hulking body facing the built, but lean silhouette of Tyler. "That's boring."

Tyler looked uncomfortable, but met the challenge and insisted, "That's my name."

Paul's tongue clucked in his mouth and he leaned back, his hands propping him up on the floor. His feet were evenly spaced as his legs were slightly apart. If he wanted to, he could jump and land on his feet at any second, as a man or as his wolf. That fact was not lost on me as Paul's grin grew, a damnable shadow casting over his face and smile. He looked positively malevolent. "Then I'd slap your mother and then I'd slap you; try me," he dared.

"Paul," I cautioned again, seemingly for the hundredth time.

Paul turned fully to the sound of my voice, the determination for a fight falling off his face in an instant. "Is it my turn yet?" He asked, his attention successfully diverted.

"Your turn?"

"I want to sit with you now," he demanded.

"It's only been like twenty minutes," Mike protested at the same instant my heart jumped. Why was it doing this? How could I even want to reward Paul's awful behavior with something that he wanted?

I started to say something to that effect when Paul quickly made it to his feet. "Too bad, marshmallow. This movie bites." Paul moved closer to the couch, much to the dismay of Lauren and Jessica, and stood next to us. Mike stayed sitting by me and gave Paul a defying look, but Paul was not impressed nor interested. "Move over before I have to pick you up," he threatened.

"No way," Mike said angrily. His arm moved away from my body, relief flowing through my body. Then again, Paul might have attempted to tear his arm off if he hadn't. "The three of us will never fit," Mike complained.

Paul loomed closer, his face just inches into Mike's 'personal space.' His hand was gripping the arm on the sofa as he said plainly, "Then I guess someone will just have to give up their seat."

"Who do you think you are, ordering me around?" Mike questioned.

"It's either that or I beat you down; your choice," Paul offered.

I stood up and faced Paul. I couldn't take it anymore; between my emotions and his temper, everything had me wheeling around in confusion, and it could only mean disastrous things. "Paul, relax, okay?" I asked, worriedly glancing at the other faces on us. My heart sped up, hurting. "I'll sit on the floor and you can lie on the couch."

"No."

"Paul, for goodness sake, please," I begged again. My throat was dry as the adrenaline waned under my growing ache to satisfy both my guests. But Paul could not keep this up. "Don't act like this," I whispered, hoping that he would be the only one to hear me clearly. "You promised. As my friend, you promised."

He was quiet, long enough for my chest and breath to resume it's usual pace. "He's touching you," Paul accused.

Mike blinked. "So what? Who are you, her boyfriend?"

"No," I said quickly. "No, he's not. He's just…protective," I finished lamely. Please, just stop it, Paul.

"So what if I'm touching her?" Mike continued. "I just put my arm behind her. No big deal."

Paul flinched, the room instantly starting to spin for me; the heat from his body had come so quickly that I had a wave of dizziness hit without warning. My feet stayed in place only because my body was on auto-pilot and a pull helped me refocus on Paul's very angry glare on Mike. "I don't like it," he declared simply.

"What is it with you rez kids anyway?" Mike sputtered. "Do you go around looking for fights?"

"You don't want to fight me. I'd tear you apart. Put you to sleep in your pirate pajamas permanently," Paul snarled. Mike leaned further into the couch's seat, now looking quite timid as Paul peered down at him.

"Ooh, that sounds dark," Lauren commented from behind Paul.

"Paul, you need to stop," I said, putting my hand gently on his arm. His skin was ablaze, bringing forth more sweat. I felt drained, Paul's attitude taking me for too many rides on such a short day. "Mike, please just move over," I appeased. "Let him sit with us."

Mike grumbled, but did as I asked. Paul almost plunged down into the open space, leaving very little room for me. Small bodied or not, a six-month old baby would have been too big to fit in between them. I sat in the middle of them anyway, and tried to pay attention to the movie again, but started to worry about being crushed.

Mike began to relax a bit more when Paul said nothing else for awhile and started trying to explain the movie to me. I was intently listening when Mike's arm suddenly fell on my shoulder. I tensed, hoping that he would withdraw it at some point, but Mike continued to talk as if his arm didn't happen to just 'fall' onto me. I even pushed my hair back to try and cover my shoulders a bit more so that Paul might not notice.

But Mike's confidence grew more daring along with his actions; he squeezed my arm. I shook my head, ready to tell him to back off when I suddenly heard a grunt and felt a hard tug. Paul had grabbed me, pulling me toward him, and then put his head in my lap.

Paul's legs hung off the arm of the couch and his feet scraped softly back and forth across the floor. Mike widened his eyes with disgust and I myself was in complete shock.

"Paul, stop. What are you doing?" I asked. I tapped one of his arms as he had wrapped them around me.

"I told you this movie sucked," he responded into my upper thighs. "I'm going to sleep."

"In my lap, Paul?"

"Closest thing I have to a pillow. Look, it'll keep me quiet." And with that, Paul buried his face into my stomach and wouldn't budge again.

I shrugged in defeat and Mike didn't touch me for the rest of the night. He even moved to the floor so that I could have more room under Paul's weight. I was seriously going to have to speak with Paul about his manners when other people came over to visit...even if it wouldn't do much good.

When the movie was over, I still couldn't get Paul to move. Lauren and Jessica sighed with another jealous look over their faces and Angela grinned, hugging Ben closer to her.

"You have to admit, he looks cute asleep," Jessica said.

"Yeah, adorable," I stated sarcastically, even if I had once held the thought of Paul being cute as he slumbered before. "This boy is going to be in so much trouble when you guys leave."

"When is he leaving?" Mike asked, his lips as tight as the hands balled up at his sides. He hadn't followed Tyler, Ben, and Angela closer to the door and looked as if he really would meet Paul on his earlier challenge to fight him.

I shifted under Paul's heavy build and Mike's scrutiny. I did want Paul off of me, but it was also what kept Mike so far away from me too. At least, I think I wanted Paul off of me. "When I wake him up and get him off me, he'll be leaving," I admitted out loud, glancing around the room at nothing in particular.

Mike nodded and put a hand on Paul's shoulder. "Jeez, this kid is scorching hot. How are you sitting there not drenched?" Mike began tugging harder on his arm, grunting a bit.

I shrugged again. I honestly didn't know how, but having Paul so close to me felt comforting. The muscles in my neck lost tension and my minor annoyance of Paul's antics fell to the back of my mind. The sudden loss of a stressful evening even had me thinking that I really might have been okay with this situation, Paul's arms around me. It does not feel bad at all. Just for a night, let me be reminded that I had someone, that I was not alone. Let me forget my first love was a vampire, and that my father was killed by an enemy of the tribe. For once, I could be held, because Edward rarely hugged me and Charlie had done so even less. But here was Paul, holding me and it felt too much like he was supposed to. So then let him, a part of me cried. No, I shook my head to reaffirm my anger, he shouldn't be.

Mike continued to pull on Paul's body and Paul's hand suddenly palmed Mike's lower abdomen, pushing him several feet across the room with his eyes still closed. Mike crashed into a few hanging photos on the wall, two dropping to the hard floor.

I shrieked, horrified. "Paul!" He grumbled inaudibly after my outburst and pushed his head deeper into me, his head still not moving from my lap. I cringed when I saw Mike turn in circles a few times in embarrassment for not being graceful about his fall, and fixed his shirt. "Guys, don't worry about it. I'll get him up. You go ahead and thanks for coming over," I urged.

"Yeah, no problem. Some guys just get all the luck," Mike said quietly. Ben was chuckling and pulled Angela along and Tyler said nothing, but nodded toward me and left. Jessica and Lauren waved.

"When he wakes up, could you give him my number, Bella?" Lauren asked, pushing a piece of paper into my hand.

"Yeah," I said, still not forgetting what I thought about her and Paul together. "He'll get it alright," I said instead.

"Thanks." Lauren beamed. "Bye."

"See you at school tomorrow. We'll lock up," Angela called over her shoulder.

I heard the door close and stared at the side of Paul's head. "I know you're not asleep. You better get up." Paul didn't move and still didn't say anything. "Paul, I am so warning you," I started to threaten.

Paul suddenly yawned and tightened his hold around my waist, lifting the rear of my thermal shirt. His fingertips raced along my backside for a moment before he gently rested his hand low on the small of my back, the tail of my backbone tingling under the skin. "Five more minutes," he muttered.

His breathing got deeper and my heart softened; he was breathtakingly beautiful when he slept. That image of streaks in his hair from when he had played in the dirt that afternoon last week had never gone away, and his smooth skin was glowing under mine, radiating a comfortable heat that my body was starting to mimic the longer he laid asleep in my lap. He turned his neck a little toward me and I couldn't help but smile, in spite of myself.

"Just a few minutes then," I relented.

Paul's eyes started to move, and it was several seconds before I realized that he had just went into deep REM sleep and I sighed, knowing that I would never be able to wake him. I shifted again smoothly, so as not to disturb him, and got more comfortable under his body. With nowhere to else to lay my hand in the tangle of limbs, I gently rested it on his face..

Paul muttered something into my fingers; I could feel his breath brush them with his warmth and I bit back a tickled laugh. "What? What is it, Paul?" I asked, trying to put my ear closer to his mouth.

I should have stayed where I was.

I should not have eavesdropped into his dreams; they were a private affair that I had no business being in, but I had to know. My curious and innate nature to see and know about everything that surrounded me did not stop with Paul, and it felt too much like something that I needed to know.

So I pushed my head to his lips. I even held my breath so I could catch the single word he finally murmured in his sleep. I heard it even though I had never heard of the word before.

"ChidlɁi," he said.

"Huh?"

Paul didn't repeat it again, but I wasn't entirely sure I had heard him correctly anyway. I fell under a spell, wondering why his word had suddenly put me so much at ease.

At least until I fell into a dreamless, warm sleep on the couch.

*A/N: You will find out what the word means in the next chapter. I worked it in so that it gets explained by the characters themselves; it works out better than me just telling you what the term means, so don't be mad. I hope the next chapter won't have nearly as many rewrites as this one did. :-D

Also, FFnet screwed up the accents of the term a little. That is not actually how it is supposed to look, but just try to use you imagination. Bad, bad FFnet! LOL