Crushing Gravity

Chapter 14

Leah's POV

I've learned a few things about Sam. For one, she does't like to be touched. That is the pretty obvious one; she yells at anyone who tries. But she lets me touch her. She lets me hold her. She curls into me sometimes.

She hates to be restrained. She yelled at me when I grabbed her, or didn't let her move. She doesn't like to feel trapped. I try not to trap her.

She's very defensive. Yet she lets her guard down around me. She relaxes and her emerald green eyes lighten, and she seems like such a child.

She hates being afraid; she won't accept it; she pretends she's not.

I thought it was so strange the first time she came out into the woods, because I could see her fear, smell it, as she walked stubbornly into the forest. I didn't know why she would go into them, if she was so scared of them.

And then I figured it out, just a few hours ago when I was looking down that cliff as she plummeted into the water. Everyone there could smell her fear, see it on her face even though she hid it well. She didn't want to jump; she didn't want to be there. But when I told her we were going to go down, she leapt. Because she was afraid. Because she had to prove that she wasn't afraid.

She is easily angered.

She hates people picking on others.

She likes punching people who pick on others.

She is easily accepting. Everyone was impressed with how well she took the news of real werewolves, but it was dampened by her reaction to my kissing her.

But there are also so many things about her that I don't understand at all. There are so many mixed signals with her.

She told me that she couldn't like me like that, and I believed her. Because I looked into her eyes and really saw that she meant it.

But then she goes and acts like we had before. She acts even closer to me than before. She touches more, I catch her staring longer, and if I didn't know any better, I would think that she's leading me on.

But I do know better, and I know that she's not.

Because today with the little amount of clothes I had on, she acted so awkward. She looked lingeringly at me, but she was so reluctant to let me touch her except when she was cold.

And she got so shy with the guys being shirtless.

She said that she's never liked anyone before, and I believe her. Just watching her interact around people, and me, you can tell.

She really had no idea that I had been giving her not so subtle tells that I liked her, and she had no idea that we weren't doing normal things that regular friends did.

She was so surprised and scared when I kissed her, but I can't regret it, because I think it got her thinking subconsciously about the possibility of something more.

I had thought that I had gotten the broken imprint connection. That it didn't work both ways with us, but... Maybe the imprint had been working, but she just couldn't interpret the feelings cause she's never felt them before.

I look down at Sam now, and smile softly.

She had fallen asleep an hour ago, and is safely tucked in my arms. Drool is making a little puddle on the pillow, dripping down her thumb.

That's another thing. She sucks her thumb. I had noticed it in the forest, the first time I spent the night, at the bonfire. It's a subconscious thing.

She really is childish, and she looks even more young and beautiful in sleep.

I reach out, brushing a wavy raven lock off her cheek, and trace her jaw.

There is a small freckle just below her left eye, nearly invisible if you're not looking.

She shifts with a small hum in the back of her throat, turning over to face me, and clutches the front of my shirt with both hands.

Her thumb shines in the rare moonlight, with slobber, but I don't think it's gross at all. She's so cute.

Her lips move soundlessly, so I dip my head lower.

"Mm, Ly...Ly...la...no..." She whimpers and I pull her closer. She sighs and relaxes, puffing her cool breath on my collarbone, causing a shiver to race down my spine.

It's really not fair the effect she has on me, when I have so little on her.

But the name... Lyla. It sounds familiar.

And then I remember. "Shut up, Lyla," she had hissed at Sam as he tried to slow her down from running away from me.

I hadn't thought much of it at the time, because it felt like someone was shoving his or her hand down my throat to rip my heart out of my rib cage. Seeing her walk, no run, away...it hurt so badly. It felt like I was dying.

But maybe I should have paid more attention to that name. "Shut up, Lyla!"

Why would she say that at a time of her running away from a kiss?

She pulls herself closer, a little squeak noise in her throat, and her mouth is brushing against my neck, moving silently and breath puffing evenly.

Familiar hot coils jolt in my lower stomach, and I have to briefly squeeze my legs together, but I can't because one of her legs slides between them.

I bite my lip and whimper. It's really not fair.

She's just fifteen; she still sucks her fucking thumb for crying out loud!

Her knee comes up suddenly, running right into my beginning ache, and I gasp.

But then it's like a bucket of ice water is dumped on me because she cries out, and not the way I was close to start imagining. The kind in fear.

She jerks again, thrashing, and whimpers. Tears are leaking out from behind her closed eyes, and I reach out to touch her, but she flinches.

"Please!" She begs, gasping and trying to madly wriggle away. She drops off to muttering again, so low that I can hardly hear. "No...please... I don't..." A high-pitched whine escapes her as she arches off the bed and kicks out.

Fear has my heart pounding, and I feel helpless to do anything as her nightmare keeps hold of her. Tears spring to my eyes.

"Shhh," I hush gently. "It's okay, Sam. It's alright; I'll protect you..."

She starts to calm, and her hands grope blindly over the blankets. "Leah?" She asks.

"I'm here," I pull her into me, gently with a loose hold the way she likes it, and she sighs in relief, relaxing back against me. "You're safe, baby girl, you're safe."

"I don't...wanna go back..."

Her breathing evens out, just a gentle gust against my neck again, but it still feels like my naked butt was dumped in the snow.

My heart is still racing in fear, and I'm trembling through my entire body. The wolf wants to get out and attack the threat, but it can't tear into a bad dream. So I burry my nose in her wild hair, and take deep lungfuls of her scent.

My tremors turn to just a shaking in my hands, and I know that I'm too freaked to get any sleep now.

So I stroke her shoulder, and murmur stupid reassurances to her, that also happen to be directed toward myself. I stay up, guarding her from whatever night terror she had, hoping for my own sanity that it doesn't come back.

Because she's sucking her thumb again and I just figured something else out about her.

She does it when she's vulnerable.

A/N: So what do we think of Leah's POV? I personally love this chapter but I'm kind of biased. It's up to you to knock me down a few pegs or stroke my pride.

~Silver~