The Paul man had looked really happy to Bella when she woke up from her nap, pulling into his driveway of his house.
Like, really, really, happy.
Still not quite awake, Bella only partially eeped when he pulled her from the truck to set gently on the ground. He released her quickly enough, but his hands still hovered nearby until she was steady. Even the Leah and Kim ladies held expressions of surprise when he started to whistle as he unloaded the trunk.
Once everything had been dumped inside and he said goodbye to the others, he gently unzipped Bella's coat to hang up in the closet.
"I'm going to go downstairs and wash your new sheets and comforter, okay, Urchin?" He explained, digging through the numerous bags to locate the sheets and rip them open. "I'll come back up to take your stuff into your room. Just have a seat."
She didn't want to sit down. She wanted to find the box of doughnuts and grab a couple to hide. Once Bella was sure Paul was in the cellar, she tiptoed over to the mountain of bags, hastily rearranging the piles to find the one holding the treats. Using a piece of the plastic the Paul man had ripped off the sheets, she wrapped two new doughnuts and then snuck over to where he had hung up her new coat. It had nice big pockets and she slid the treats inside, backing away before he came upstairs.
The Paul man was fast. She didn't hear him on the stairs and gulped nervously when he was suddenly standing in front of her.
"You okay, Urchin? You look nervous," he said, one hand cupping her cheek.
Had she lost herself? She didn't even see him move!
Regardless, Bella nodded anyways, anxious to get away from her hidden cache. In hopes of distracting the Paul man while not angering him, she didn't pull away from his hand, but she did try to move to pick up some of the bags. Maybe if they put the stuff away, he wouldn't continue to think something was wrong.
"Yeah, you're right," Paul said, interpreting her movements. "We should put this shit away. Here, let me." Picking up a large portion of the packages, he started to walk towards the bedrooms, a hesitant Urchin trailing behind empty handed.
Dumping everything on her bed, his eyebrows knitted in thought. "I guess I forgot about putting a dresser or some shit in here." Turning around he looked directly at Bella. "I'll go get you some hangers for most of it and then you can use a laundry basket for the rest."
He left and returned before Bella could even process what he was talking about. The plastic bags would hold the stuff nicely and she could just as easily put those in the closet.
"You know what?" he asked, coming back in with a handful of hangers he laid on the bed. "This can wait for now. Let me show you the rest of the stuff I got for you."
Curious as to what else she could possibly need, Bella followed Paul back to the entryway, watching as he grabbed most of the other bags and then proceeded to his room.
"Until I can get the other bathroom up and working, we're gonna have to share mine. Don't worry about disturbing me, though. Anytime you need to do something, feel free to do so, okay?"
Bella nodded her head, but he wasn't looking at her. It was almost as if he really meant what he said. She knew better than to assume she could just wander into his room whenever she felt like it. This was his cubby—a really big cubby—but he still probably expected privacy. That was one limit Bella had no intention of testing.
"So, I figured you probably didn't have a preference…Shit!" The Paul man gave her a weird look. "I'm sorry, Urchin. I probably should've asked what you wanted, huh? I bought you your own type of soap and shampoo and shit. You can use it, or if you really fucking hate it, just let me know and we'll get you something else."
Bella wondered if she was dreaming, watching him pull out a lot of different things: hairbrush, toothbrush, soap…
He paused after sitting a few weird boxes down, mumbling the words "girly shit" and causing Bella to almost smile. Those things were a luxury Undergrounders never even thought about. Aside from comfort and convenience, they did nothing to help prolong a life. It would be a lot different than the usual napkins Bella had to procure once in awhile.
"So that's it," he finished some time later, showing Bella the weird box he was piecing together filled with band aids and stuff. "I'll, uhh, put the shampoo and crap in the shower for you. I'm sure you saw the rug I bought, so we don't have any more accidents in there, okay?"
Still dazed, Bella just nodded, overwhelmed by the amount of things he thought she needed. He must really plan on keeping her for awhile, a thought she was somewhat happy with. Cautiously she lowered herself onto the edge of his bed, a slight wince of discomfort from being on her sore hip all day.
"Urchin?" he questioned, walking closer to her. "Do you need something?"
She had to prove her worth! With all of the confidence she could muster, Bella shook her head no. There really wasn't anything she needed and her hip would be okay. She just needed to think about something else.
The Paul man didn't believe her. "Come on, don't lie to me. I thought we already went over this. What's wrong?"
His eyes said he was worried, not mad, and reluctantly Bella decided it would be better to just let him know rather than hide her pain and risk future anger. With a small gesture, she pointed to her hip and then dropped her hand quickly, just in case it really wasn't okay to tell him.
"Lie down," the Paul man instructed.
Uh oh. Suddenly Bella wished she hadn't felt like sharing so much information. Had she been right before and he did like to see people in pain. Maybe he was going to…
Bella didn't have time to ponder what his intentions were. The Paul pushed against her shoulder, causing her to fall back on the mattress. Her gasp came after he had made his move. She wasn't expecting him to tug at her waistband the second she was horizontal.
"Jesus, that's a nasty ass looking bruise," he remarked quietly before lifting his gaze to meet hers. "Does it hurt as bad as it did last night?"
Bella shook her head and then squeaked when he picked up her legs and twisted her body to lie out completely on the bed.
Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.
"You should probably just rest for now," Paul said, attributing her increased shaking to pain. "I don't know how I could've been such a dick and insist we go traipsing all over the fucking state today."
Bella continued to shake her head no, from shock, denial and preference. She didn't want to stay in here and not move about. That would only make it hurt worse later when she did have to get up. Plus, her lying on a bed might give him ideas.
"Yes, Urchin, you should," he said, moving to unlace her new shoes. "Any type of movement you make is going to stretch the skin around your hip and the bruise will only get worse and hurt like a bitch."
Tugging off her boots, the Paul man let them thunk to the floor before he sat down to loosen his own laces. "I'll turn on some music and we can make a grocery list. I want to make sure I buy stuff you like and that way you won't be bored resting in here, okay?"
Bella wasn't so sure about that. Did people normally lie down to make grocery lists? Something seemed off to her. She tried not to stare in terror when he took off his own shoes. The quickies always left those on.
If the Paul man noticed her shaking fear he ignored it, stretching out next to her and sitting up against the wall with a pillow behind him instead of prone like she was. Reaching over to a table that was nowhere close to the bed, he grabbed a notepad and pen, hastily tearing off several sheets that already had words. Bella didn't see him turn anything on, yet just the same the room filled with music.
Maybe he was going to use it to block the sounds…? Bella wondered if she could make it to the door before he did. Subtly eyeing the table he had grabbed the paper from, she realized that his arms were long enough to grab her without him having to even move. She was trapped.
"Can you cook, Urchin?" Paul asked her, balling up the discard lists of phone numbers he had collected and then lobbing them into a small waste bin.
Her eyes looked up to meet his smiling ones. "It doesn't matter if you can't. I just thought if there was something you'd like to make we could get the stuff."
Once the pad held a fresh sheet of paper, the Paul man gave her a friendly smile. He wasn't upset at all that she didn't know how to cook. "I'm not a picky eater, myself, so I'll just randomly spout off meals and if there's something you don't like, just tap me."
Once again, Bella froze. Things were moving entirely too fast for her to process. Wasn't he going to…? As much as she didn't want to be hurt, this was not how things happened. She knew once her guard was down, the pain would come.
The only thing Bella could do was stop thinking about when he was going to react and just relax. She'd get beat up and hurt back in the Underground and at least here, she was warm and fed. Better to just go along and get whatever benefits she could from the situation. Whenever he made his move, he had bought band aids to fix her up. She could take it.
"So, let's see. Pizza, spaghetti—I know you like that, we already had it—hamburgers, sandwiches, steak—oh man, I would kill for a nice New York strip or porterhouse—pork chops, lasagna—although, I don't think I can make that shit, but they sell frozen ones—tacos, chicken—speaking of which, Emily made us some type of chicken dish. She's a great cook."
He had been writing the entire time and Bella could only imagine how much all of that stuff might cost. Did he really intend on buying all of it? Trying not to stare, she briefly closed her eyes, listening to the fast paced scratching sound of the pen. She was better able to identify food when she saw it, most words for meals a bit foreign to her. The Paul man didn't seem to notice.
When the noise cut off, she opened her eyes again to meet his. He was still kind of smiling and Bella breathed slowly, hoping to keep it that way.
"What about snacks? I think it was Sue who mentioned feeding you plenty of fruits and veggies," Paul said, smiling quickly before turning back to his list. "Claudia mostly only eats that type of shit. Funny as fuck that she's basically married to a carnivore, but eats like a vegetarian. The Forks grocery store doesn't have a real big selection of plants and crap, but we can get the basics like apples, oranges, berries, sometimes they even have pineapples-"
The Paul man cut himself off when Bella moved her hand to lightly scrape against his leg.
"What? You don't like pineapples?" He asked, his pen hovering over the list to scratch it off.
Bella shrugged her shoulders. Pineapples sounded familiar, but not what she had meant to disagree over. It was apples that she really didn't like. The more she thought about it, though, the more she wished she hadn't bothered to indicate that. She'd eat apples if need be and couldn't understand what had driven her to even hint at disliking something the Paul man was going to get her for free. Instead, she moved her hand back to her hip, wondering if she had rested long enough to get back up.
Laying the pad aside, he dropped the pen as well, rolling to his side to stare at Bella. He looked like he knew she was lying about the fruit, but he didn't accuse her. Her eyes did enlarge when the Paul man unexpectedly answered her thought.
"I don't know. We've only been resting for about an hour. Does it still hurt?" Pointing to her hip, the Paul man's voice gave her no indication of what a correct response should be.
Bella was pretty sure her hip would hurt for a few more days at least. If he meant was it as tender and uncomfortable as it had been when she first sat down, the answer was no, which she indicated. Street people did not have time to coddle silly injuries.
"We also haven't finished the list," Paul commented, restraining himself from outlining her hip. Damn, what he wouldn't give for his tongue to be effective in bruise healing. "Well, you'll go with me and then you can just grab whatever you want and put it in the cart," he absentmindedly decided, wondering if visions of his imprint naked were a blessing or a curse.
Shaking his head to clear those thoughts, he realized what he had just said. "You know, I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner. That'd be easier, huh? When we're at the store, I can just load the cart and if there's anything you don't like, you can take it out."
Rolling off the bed, Paul stood up. Walking over to her side of the bed –her side? Jesus Christ, had he made that leap already?—he grasped her waist well above her hips to lift up. Once she was standing on two feet he backed away to see if she still suffered from trembling pain or agony. One fucking twitch and he'd have his urchin flat on her back faster than a vampire could stink.
Bella didn't flinch, but held perfectly still, feeling the beginning tightness form in her sore hip. She needed to move around, sit down and stand up frequently so the ache would go away. With determination, she walked out of his room, failing to notice the Paul man's hands hovering in preparation to swoop in and save her if need be.
Dinner was a frozen pizza that Bella both loved and didn't. It tasted really good, but it was too difficult to try and snag an extra piece to hide away. Apparently the Paul man really liked it, too. When dinner was over, there were no extra pieces. Bella had missed the chance.
"I'm going to pick up this stuff," Paul told her, waving to the dishes and napkins. "I don't know if you should be standing up on your sore hip long enough to put your clothes away. If you want, you can sit on the bed and put the shit on hangers and then I'll hang them up for you when I'm done, okay?"
Bella waited until he moved first before making her way to her room. She could only stare at the clothes the Paul man had purchased her. True, he hadn't wanted her to have anything in soft colors and at first she had been a bit sad, but quickly forced that emotion away. She couldn't be picky. He had bought this stuff for her and he hadn't asked for anything in return.
She was amazed to see four bags full of brand new clothes. Despite being present when the stuff was picked out, she still found it hard to believe he had bought so much. It would take Bella years to wear through the five brand new pairs of pants, six if she counted the ones the Leah woman had given her last night.
Sadly, Bella sat down to remove the garments, eyeing them critically. Clothes to the Undergrounders were cherished but it was different than the shoes. Most wouldn't bother to try and steal the pants or sweaters she was wearing but they also wouldn't hesitate to raid her cubby and snag the ones she would need to store away. Another complication was her jacket. Like her boots, a person would easily risk attacking her to take it away, the protective heavy fabric almost as precious as food.
Pulling out each piece of clothing reverently, Bella tried to remember what she had seen at the stores, the way the clothes had been arranged on the hangers so she could duplicate it correctly. She couldn't remember how the pants had been hung and after several failed attempts, she realized that they were supposed to look different than the sweaters, although her attempt at knotting the legs together was wrong, too.
"Do you like everything?" The Paul man asked from the doorway, startling Bella's thoughts.
Dropping the hanger, she nodded giving him a smile and hoping he'd realize how nice this had been and that she was very happy to have clothes.
He returned her smile just as easily. "I brought your sheets and stuff," he said, walking in to dump the cleaned fabric next to her. "I'll make your bed for you. You can sit here." Picking up a surprised Bella, Paul placed her on the floor gently and then quickly ripped off the sheets and blanket currently covering her mattress.
When her bed was made again, he replaced her on top of it, picking up the hangers he had shoved to the floor and digging through the bags to hang up the remaining garments she had yet to tackle. Bella was shocked at how fast he worked.
"Why don't you get changed and then come out here to watch some TV with me?" He asked her, walking over to the closet and randomly placing some of the clothes inside. "Unless you want to do something else?" Turning back to face her, he smiled encouragingly, strolling back to get the last pile.
Confused, Bella looked down at her clothes. They were clean and she hadn't spilled anything. Why would she need to change? The Paul man started to chuckle and Bella began to worry she was missing something again.
"I don't think I've ever seen a chick put their pajamas on a hanger, Urchin." Picking up one of the garments, Bella watched as he removed the hanger from the soft, burgundy colored matching garment.
He ran his hand over the material before thrusting the clothes at her. "Put these on. I'll go hang this up for you and then you can change and come out into the living room."
Waiting until he had shut the door, Bella stood up to walk over to the closet. It wouldn't be much protection, but changing behind another set of doors seemed like a good idea, so she did. The closet was dark, but she could still see well enough to spot the ugly bruise on her hip. It wasn't exactly a new type of bruise for Bella. She had seen plenty of them on her body before that were dark and disfigured. This one, though, kind of made her eyes water in pain when she saw it and she quickly hid the injury beneath the soft pants before stepping out of the closet and back into the full light of the room.
Wandering back to the bed, she sat down to think over the events of the day. Despite the food, the gifts, the lack of receiving pain or punishment and the fact that the Paul man seemed happy, Bella realized what it all meant.
It was a test! This Paul man was waiting for her to make the effort to show appreciation. If she continued to shy away from the expected gratitude he obviously wanted, things would get bad. However, if Bella just automatically complied, the Paul man would be happy and maybe even keep her longer. It took her a long time, but eventually she gathered her courage to move forward with the plan and cautiously walked out to the living room.
He had changed into different pants, the kind Bella didn't usually see on people unless they were sleeping –people who had their own places to live and safe places to sleep- and had to come outside suddenly because they heard a noise. Staring was unavoidable and she realized how nice the Paul man looked, very healthy with his toned muscles and dark skin. His overall size still scared her, muscles adorning his arms and chest and bulging without tension.
Bella's gaze was intense as she made her way to the couch, sitting a few feet away from him and trying to gather the courage to scoot closer. He really liked it when she did that, acted first for contact.
She inched his way before stopping, not wanting him to get angry if she wasn't supposed to move when he was watching TV. The show had changed by the time Bella was sitting on the cushion directly next to him.
Paul was pleasantly surprised when his little urchin came shuffling out of her room to join him to watch some TV fairly quickly. They had been all over fucking Port A and she looked tired. He figured she'd crash within minutes of sitting in the near dark room and then he could properly cud—… lie next to her on the couch until it was time to go to bed.
He was stoic enough not to frown or whine when she sat a few feet away from him. Paul wished he could say the same for his goddamn wolf that wouldn't shut the fuck up in desolation over its imprint sitting further than in his lap.
Of course, the fucking smile bloomed all on its own once he realized she was inching closer. From any other person, the movement would look coy or planned, but not from his urchin. She wasn't doing any of that feminine wile shit, stretching to push out her chest or tossing her hair or giving sex looks. She barely looked towards Paul at all unless it was to make sure he wasn't getting any ideas.
At least, that's what Paul told himself as she finally stopped the hour long shifting process to get closer. Jesus, he had wanted to reach out and tug her closer from the first minute, but he knew that'd freak her out and Paul was determined not to fuck up this bonding moment.
There was a slight sense of fear from her accomplishment, Paul noted absentmindedly, but she was mostly determined and maybe a bit…was that pride? Shit, if he didn't think she'd dive for cover, he'd throw a damn party at her accomplishment.
Paul lost complete control of his wolf the second she made another move and leaned into his side, his left arm lifting automatically to sling over her shoulders and hug her gently. No thoughts or motives behind it, just an arm swinging to encircle its mate, comfortingly, protectively and assuredly. No one –Paul, or the wolf- paid a damn bit of attention to her increased heart beat or spike of fear once his arm was around her, his left hand coming to rest on her thigh and casually brushing his fingers over the top in a nonsexual way.
It was damn near fifteen minutes before she finally relaxed and was leaning into him naturally. Paul was so fucking hypersensitive to her lying against him that when she turned her head, he had assumed it was in the beginning stages of sleep since her heart was a bit quickened and not the slow pattern of a true slumber. However, when her hand came to rest on top of his thigh, he was pretty fucking sure he may have come a little in his sleepwear, the moaning sigh of sexual excitement a release on its own.
For five whole fucking minutes, Paul relished the feel of her delicate hand on his leg. She wasn't moving or rubbing him but if felt fan-fucking-tastic to both him and the wolf. His ears and nose registered the spike of mood change before his mind could piece it together when his urchin shifted and then arched up to swing around and sit in his lap facing Paul.
He must have looked pretty fucking shocked as his imprint searched his eyes, his right hand clasping with his left behind her to keep her safely stationed. Whatever she saw might have frightened her, but Paul was beyond thinking and barley able to remember to bite his tongue and smother the next moan threatening to escape when she placed both hands on his chest.
His bared, tingling and panting chest.
Shit, direct skin to skin contact like this was almost too much for Paul. He liked to be caressed with assured hands, building up his sexual peak for pleasure. Urchin, though, was hesitant and shy, her hands there and a hundred times more titillating despite the stationary position.
The man was a goner and gave over control to the wolf, allowing the imprint ties to work a magic he had never experienced. It was both sexual and non-sexual, the anticipation buried deeply within the acceptance, whether she knew it or not.
His urchin finally moved and settled closer to him, her hands dropping dangerously close to his pelvic bone. With a shifting of her head, she nuzzled her cheek against him and then relaxed once more, making Paul think she had been sleep snuggling or some shit but not really giving a fuck because she was actually in his lap.
Paul wanted to turn the TV off and sit like this for the rest of fucking eternity. Shit that had to be allowed somewhere in the werewolf manual right? Her hands shifted again and this time Paul couldn't stop the moan, tiny fingers slipping beneath his pants to brush over his penis and then drop lower to stroke him.
Asleep or awake, Paul still whispered his appreciation. "Shit, Urchin, that feels good."
Throwing his head back in bliss, Paul closed his eyes as she did whatever the hell she wanted to do. He normally required a lot of friction for a hand job to feel this good, but her innocent explorative fingers were doing a number, igniting a need for release faster than Paul had thought possible. When the small pressure of her body shifted on his lap again, Paul loosened his arms, tightening his hands together in ecstasy. He hoped he'd have the ability to form a fucking sentence to let her know when he was going to blow.
Had it only been a few hours ago that Paul wished she would approach him? He couldn't remember anything before this time of having an imprint all of his own that wanted, needed and desired him. When the soft wetness of her lips sucking him finally hit his brain, Paul nearly choked the poor girl as his hips bucked on their own.
There was a crackle and fissure of wrongness to the action. His body told him to shut the fuck up. Getting head was never wrong! His mind, though, wouldn't stop sending out the thoughts. This was his imprint, a girl he didn't even know her real name, trying to…
His hips jerked again and Urchin pulled back slightly, still sucking him tightly in her mouth, but with her eyes focused on his face and as he watched her lips first and eyes second, the emotion behind them broke Paul out of his bliss.
She fucking reeked of fear and desperation.
"What are you doing?" Paul growled out in pain from the sensation of his cock being released from her mouth when he pushed her head away. The fear and desperation turned into a look of uncertainty his urchin now wore, laying away from him on the couch where he had kind of dumped and pushed her in shock.
Decorum suggested that Paul should probably tuck his dick back into his pants before grilling his girl, but he was barely lucky enough to have found a way to talk. Her eyes kept darting between Paul's look of shocked anger and his crotch, the realization that she had done something wrong blazing back to fear across her face.
"Why would you do that?" Paul asked in angered confusion. He refused to dwell on the reality. That his imprint had felt forced to pleasure him in a way he sure as hell wanted, but not like this. Not as a way to earn her keep. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew the truth, yet was unable to allow the disgusting fact to become real.
The patterns of being a human, the small intricacies that gave some people the upper hand of power at the expense of others, was a cycle when laid bared gave truth that humanity was anything but humane and Paul wanted to vomit. Instead, his own survival instincts kicked in and he buried the truth.
His urchin looked scared shitless, her face drained of all color and her large glassy eyes glued to him. She started to shuffle backwards, up the length of the couch until she hit an arm rest.
"I don't understand what this shit is all about," he yelled, lunging up the couch after her, hoping by some damn miracle he'd be able to understand her motives. Fuck! Why was he questioning a girl giving him oral? Shaking his head in confusion, he tried to decipher what the hell his urchin had been thinking. Her senses had gone to pure panic and he couldn't stop the trembling from either of them. Confused and hurt, Paul half-heartedly lunged for his girl again.
"Neeeh," his urchin yelled in full blown panic. Hurtling off the couch, only her left leg was on the ground, her right ankle hitting the coffee table as she propelled her body forward and causing her to land hard on her arms, trying to escape Paul's pursuit.
"Urchin!" Paul's panic skyrocketed, blinding him to everything that had completely gone wrong and to shit in the last thirty seconds. He hadn't wanted to grab her when she initially tried to run, worried that she'd hit her head on the table if he upset the momentum of her balance. That's what he told himself, as his mind blocked earlier realizations.
With her crawling and no more furniture to impact his goal, Paul launched himself over the space, tugging his pants up hastily as he did so and landing on all fours above her, trapping his terrified girl beneath his larger body.
"Just stop, please stop before you hurt yourself anymore," he cried out in pain at her distress.
Bending his head to press his lips into her exposed neck, she went completely still before collapsing beneath him, his right hand catching her head before it hit the floor. Sliding his hand away from her face and pulling back, he scrambled to the side of her, reaching out to turn her head where large glassy eyes stared at nothing, her breathing shallow pants.
Dear god, what the fuck had he done?
"Urchin? Hey, come on, Urchin," he requested, stroking the side of her cheek in hopes of a response. "I'm sorry I lost my shit, but I'm not mad at you," Paul pleaded, as he folded his legs underneath him to sit beside her.
This had to be like before, where she zoned out into her own little world, right? Something about this episode felt different, though. She was scared and the fear invaded Paul's body, a sour and acrid taste coating his mouth.
"Think Paul, think!" he yelled to himself, rocking back and forth slightly from nervous energy. His urchin was scared—obviously—but was this shock? Fuck, what the hell was he supposed to do to treat it? It wasn't like werewolf training included how to fix something like this. Whenever the wolves experienced something shocking, they ran it off and then ate, but Urchin had already eaten dinner.
Heat! Shocked people needed to feel comforted and warm. Paul may not know shit about comforting, but he could do warm. Turning her completely over so she was lying on her back, he picked her up to cradle her, giving as much contact as he could without making her feel suffocated.
"Come on, Urchin, breathe deeply; you're going to hyperventilate," Paul pleaded after a few minutes of no change from his imprint. She hadn't hit her head, he would have seen it if she had. Same with the possibility of her having broken a bone.
Paul had no idea how long he sat there, rocking his girl and muttering under his breath. Finally he stood straight up and carried his urchin to her room. He was going to put her to bed and wait one hour, no more. If after an hour she still hadn't changed, he would have no choice but to call Sue or even worse, take her to the hospital.
Back and forth he went from the far side of the room to her bed, counting the minutes, rearranging the covers, backing away to give her space, returning to caress her hair, turning around so as not to hover and then spinning right back around to drop to his knees and touch her cheeks, afraid he was losing her.
Fifty three minutes after she had collapsed, her eyes twitched causing Paul to freeze in hopefulness. He counted out loud every fucking torturous second it took before his urchin blinked; once, twice and then lowered her eyelids. Her breathing had returned to normal along with some color to her face.
Her eyelids stopped fluttering and stayed closed when she rolled facing him, a tiny huff puffing towards him before he registered that she was falling into her normal sleep. He waited to make sure he was correct about her sleeping before leaving the room to go call Sue.
"Hello?" A sleepy male's voice answered on the fifth ring.
"Harry, I'm sorry to call so late, but would it be possible to talk to Sue?" Paul whispered into the phone, his mind blindly stuck on the image of a lump in her bed.
The answerer didn't speak but a shuffling could be heard as the receiver exchanged hands before a woman's groggy voice echoed back. "Hello; Paul?"
"Hi, Sue. Sorry about calling so late, but I think something bad happened and I need to know what to do," Paul said quickly, retelling an abbreviated version of what had occurred. Even if Sue was a nurse, he sure as hell wasn't going to volunteer that their argument had started over sex!
Any tiredness Sue might have been feeling vanished as Paul spoke of the incident earlier in his living room, the yelling and the scuffle that followed. Sue had heard Paul yell before and she knew he could get mean. Not violent, at least not towards a girl, but Paul could be scary without even raising a hand.
"Yes, Paul, that does sound like she went into shock," Sue agreed when he finally wound down. "Are you sure she's sleeping normally?"
"Yeah, pretty sure. Most of her muscles are relaxed and the ones not fully relaxed are getting there. It didn't happen all at once," Paul tried to explain. He knew enough that if his girl had been entirely relaxed from the beginning, it would mean she had only passed out. It still would have been shock but a different type.
"And there was no physically trauma? You're absolutely certain she didn't strike her head?" Sue asked relentlessly. Sometimes head trauma victims could remain alert before passing out. If that was the case –and Sue mostly doubted it was—Arial would need immediate medical attention.
Grimacing, Paul could do nothing to stop the scene from playing in his head over and over. "No. when she started to go limp, I cradled her head before it could hit the ground and then lowered her."
"What about her knees? Could she have dislocated a knee cap or elbow? Maybe her wrist?" Sue questioned, causing Paul to jerk in surprise. He had been sure his girl hadn't broken anything but maybe it was a soft break. Shit, why did it feel like he had been through a tornado?
Hurrying back into the room, Paul carefully checked both of her wrists then lifted the covers and her pants to look at her knees.
"There's no swelling, bruising or discoloration," he reported, straightening the blankets to keep her bundled.
Sighing in audible relief, Sue felt bad for Paul. The poor kid was really trying and just kept getting into further messes. "Then it probably was psychological and not physiological shock," she gently explained. "Like before, let her sleep and if anything unusual occurs; she gets sick, develops a fever, cries out in pain or discomfort, call me immediately. If you can't waken her tomorrow, take her straight to the hospital. If you feel uncertain or ill at ease from your 'other' sense, just take her."
"Okay, Sue, thanks," Paul said gratefully, reading between the lines. His inner wolf allowed for the benefit of being able to detect certain emotional changes from his imprint, pain being the strongest. He left her room quietly, wanting to pace in agitation.
"Have you been able to learn anything else from her?" Sue asked after a few minutes of silence.
"Well…not directly," Paul said, walking into his kitchen for a drink. He wasn't thirsty but fucking needed a distraction. "She let me brush her hair last night and I noticed some weird scars on her head. I asked if those places hurt but she didn't say they did."
"What kind of scars?"
"If I had to guess, I'd say it looked like someone banged her head into a mirror or window." The word window turned into a soft growl from Paul. "There were a lot of them, but the scars look old."
Sue sighed heavily, not knowing how to comfort Paul. "We may never know, Paul. Not unless she's willing to tell us."
"Yeah, I know," Paul said softly, creeping back towards his urchin's room, distractions forgotten. Truth be told, Paul wasn't sure he really did want to know what had caused her head scarring. Not if it was inflicted on her by someone trying to hurt or kill her.
He almost forgot he was still talking on the phone and it fumbled slightly when Sue spoke again. "Try to get some rest, Paul. If anything was really wrong, the spirits would tell you."
"Good night, Sue," Paul replied, unaware of disconnecting the call.
Paul sat as far away from Urchin as possible while still being in her room, his back ramrod straight against the closest doors. He could give two shits about how uncomfortable he felt or if this type of observation was even remotely fucking psychotic. The knowledge that he had somehow caused this mess ate away at his gut.
Despite the assuredness that his girl was really sleeping and not knocked out or still in shock, Paul couldn't leave. He felt like a fucking coward, needing to be so damn close and…Fuck! Was this possessiveness? Had the inner wolf fucked him to the point of being such a whiney bitch?
He didn't want to think about it, this force keeping him rooted to the fucking floor of his girl's room at three a.m. in the morning. Billy had mentioned that separation was tricky between the newly imprinted but come the fuck on! Would it really kill him that badly to wander down the hall and pass out in his own bed? Paul, the man, could sleep and Paul, the wolf, could play fucking guard dog.
Good luck with that shit, his inner whiney conscious reminded Paul haughtily, his fingers clenching tightly into fists that had nothing to hit.
Where the fuck had he gone wrong? He hadn't asked her to… Paul's mind scattered again over the chain of events, blocking out the hard core reasoning behind his anger and her desperation.
Say it, Paul, his conscious demanded. Your imprint went down on you and wrapped her sweet lips around your dick to give you a blow job and you fucking freaked!
He had. For the first time in Paul Lahote's life, he had fucking flipped over casual sex. Any normal guy would've been dancing the cha-cha if their girl crawled up the couch and started that shit on their own and what did Paul do? Acted like she was going to cut off his dick.
Then his guilt kicked back in, right to the nut sac. Rather than be calm and collected, Paul had yelled at the slip of girl sleeping several feet away. He had yelled loud enough to make her go into shock! Jesus, he was a douche nozzle for being such a fuckwit about the whole goddamn thing. His shoulders slumped a little as he thought about how he should've handled it. How he should've just spoke rationally and told her to stop. True, he'd still be a bitch for saying no to oral, but at least she would've let him explain some things, like as fuckawesome as it was for her to do that, they should probably at least know each other's names. Maybe try kissing on the lips first and then progress to whipping out their junk for each other to tongue tangle with.
As the sky began to lighten his urchin started to move in small shifts. A small jerk from her foot, a roll from her side to back and then stillness when she blinked her eyes open to stare at the ceiling. Her movements were disoriented and clumsy as she rose. When her eyes finally spotted him, she froze; not like before but in a somewhat normal, surprised way.
"Hey, Urchin," he greeted quietly. "I'm going to sit over here until you feel comfortable enough for me to approach, so please don't panic."
She blinked once but gave no type of indication as to how she was feeling. Her muscles were tense, though, and Paul was willing to bet she was scared and that the hormone flux of adrenaline had yet to kick in.
"Do you feel comfortable with me here? I…you know, if you want, I can leave and come back later or wait until you feel okay coming out."
They stared at each other for a few minutes before Paul realized he hadn't asked her a single question that she could answer with a shake or a nod.
"Do you want me to leave for now?" He tried again, refusing to make a move until she said yes or no. Any movement at this point would probably send her over the edge.
She sank back into the mattress slightly before shaking her head. Never once did she stop staring at him and Paul started to feel unsure.
"Do you feel okay to talking a bit?" He asked. "I could…" trailing off, he realized how difficult this was going to be. "I'm sorry, please answer that question first."
-A nod of approval.
"Would you rather have some food or water first?" Paul asked unexpectedly. It was still early but she probably needed some water or take a piss or something. Again, Paul was both surprised and relieved when she indicated no.
"Okay, but as soon as were done talking, we'll have breakfast okay?" That wasn't really debatable or even a question and he didn't bother to look up, dropping his eyes to stare impassively at the floor to find some fucking courage to talk about this shit.
"I'm sorry if I scared you last night," he started remorsefully. "That sure as hell wasn't my intention. Trust me, Urchin, I really want to do those things with you, but for some reason it felt wrong to me. Were you comfortable doing…that?" He still couldn't fucking bring himself to say blowjob and angrily, Paul pinched his damn leg for a fucking wakeup call.
His urchin stared at him blankly before nodding her head. Paul nearly swallowed his tongue in shock. He sure as fuck wasn't expecting a yes and for once was damn near speechless, his hand dropping away from his leg.
"I…okay," Paul said, thinking about the possibilities. Maybe this was how it was supposed to work? "I mean, that's good and I want you to like doing that." It was still wrong, all fucking wrong and until paul could hear a reasonable excuse, he couldn't bring himself to believe that shit for one minute. "I…are you sure? You really are comfortable doing that with me?"
Another hesitant nod, one that felt as wrong to him as the entire conversation did.
"Look, what you did felt great and shit, but was there a reason you did it?"
Her next nod seemed to blow up his verbal filter and Paul rushed on, failing to process what he was actually asking.
"Were you horny? I've seen some skanks that put any and everything in their mouths because they just need to suck huge coc…GAHHH!" Paul slapped his cheek hard and then literally yanked on his tongue, scarping it with his fingers as if to remove the last sentence he had just puked out. He had to be fucking possessed to have just asked his girl if she was some nympho bimbo who had to suck a dick every day to be happy.
"I'm sorry. Please forget that last shit I said," he directed, wiping his slightly wet hand on his pants. "What I meant was, is there a specific reason you tried to do that last night and not before?"
-Another nod.
"Can you tell me what it was?"
He hadn't actually thought she'd kick back and start talking but when his girl began to slowly point to things, her bed, the blanket, her clothes, the closet, Paul literally thought he was going to vomit. She had tried to…she wanted to…Jesus fucking Christ, she thought she owed it to him!
"Please, stop, Urchin. I get it, okay?" Paul whispered cautiously, worried his temper would make its appearance.
He couldn't stop from rocking back and forth in despair. It was one thing to fuck a slut because both parties were horny. To sexually use a chick because she wanted to say thanks for clothing and feeding her was at the very least Satanic and at the very most should be punishable by death.
Paul tried to invert and consort with his wolf. Anything he and Urchin did needed to be out of true emotion and not some misguided gratitude. He had been trying to fight the real reason behind her actions, knowing the whole fucking time it wasn't because she was suddenly blissfully fucking happy to be with him.
"This is so fucked up," he mumbled to himself, embarrassed to look his urchin in the eye. How the fuck was he supposed to apologize for this? He was over six and half feet tall, probably outweighed his girl three times over, was a supernatural being with damn near unlimited strength and even though he hadn't told her or asked her or even plucked his dick out of his own pants and waved it in her face, she had felt forced to act.
A noise or a shifting of sheets from his girl did cause Paul to look up finally and his heart and will power broke all over again. She was his imprint, not someone else's and for all the shit he was going through at the moments, it had to be twice as hard for her. She didn't know he was a fucking werewolf, or that she kind of belonged here with him.
Time to put up, shut up and lay down the cards. Well, some of the cards at least…
"I don't want you to be embarrassed or think you have to do that shit," Paul tried explain to his girl without sounding like an ass. "When you go down…IF! If you go down on me…" stopping, Paul couldn't even finish his statement. There sure as hell wasn't a Miss Manner's guide to telling your girl when it was okay to fuck you. People didn't talk about that shit to each other. They just did it and Paul did want to do it. Just not like this.
Jesus, had he not fantasized about fucking her sweetly over and over again until they fell asleep only to wake up and do it all over again? Sex was definitely natural to Paul, normalcy depending on the participant and unfortunate spectator, and he'd be lying if he said he could live happily ever after without it. Paul decided to change tactics.
"What if I said I wanted to do that to you?" He asked, completely serious. "Go down on you and shit. Would you like that?" Paul hadn't even finished his question before his urchin was vehemently shaking her head no. All things considered, it was a really shitty way to end his hopefulness for future sex.
"You really wouldn't like that?" The shock in that question surprised even Paul. "I mean, I've never been with a chick who said no or anyth…you know what? We should probably talk about that shit later, much later."
If Paul felt like an ass, it had nothing on his girl's spike of terror. He had no idea how lame an asshole had to be to scare a girl from wanting to be eaten out, but Urchin had apparently had an encounter with said asshole if the idea of someone going down on her released this type of fear.
As the silence grew and she apparently realized he wasn't going to ask her anymore awkward sex questions, Paul could see she was going back to being weary. He could handle that shit –for now—and took the sign for what it was.
Standing up and stretching his cramped muscles, Paul finally felt the bone-assed tiredness he had been holding back. "Look, we definitely need to talk more about this, but I don't think we can figure it all out in just one day. You can go ahead and take a shower and I'll start breakfast."
He pretended to walk out into the kitchen, giving his girl time to collect her stuff and shuffle into the bathroom. Once he heard the door click shut, he backtracked to his room, listening at the door closely to see if he could hear the change in water tempo indicating she had actually gotten under the spray.
Paul was both relieved and felt like a douche for making sure his girl took a real shower. Technically she wasn't dirty or any of that shit, but he was worried she was really fucking scared of water and would need more persuasive measures to bathe. Trudging back into the kitchen he debated on an appropriate breakfast. She barely ate anything during meals and was always hungry an hour later. That Paul could easily relate to, however, it wasn't something other imprints did. The rest of the pack constantly whined and bitched about their girls teasing them for eating outside of meal times.
Something brunch worthy sounded promising but Paul wasn't sure he could make any fancy shit for his girl. Not like the eggs Benedict Embry got from his imprint or the crepes Nadine sometimes made for Jake. Actually Paul kind of wished he hadn't pissed off Nadine cause he'd sure as hell invite himself and his girl over to their place this morning for some gourmet slop.
With not much of a variety to be had, Paul went with bagel and egg sandwiches. He also planned on eating a few of those doughnuts from yesterday and hoped his girl would like those as well.
The rest of the day passed exceptionally quiet for the two. After a late breakfast, Paul didn't know what he was supposed to do with his girl. he had planned on going grocery shopping, but was worried she might still feel weird about last night. Although, staying trapped in the house probably wouldn't make her feel more comfortable either.
Towards bedtime, the storms picked up again, heavy rain thumping against the windows and the lights flickering occasionally. His urchin literally jumped every time the power blinked and Paul was hard pressed to encourage her to go to bed. He was still tired as shit and definitely needed to close his eyes for a nap. Urchin probably wouldn't notice too much, but his fucking inner wolf did. The snarling creature would not allow for peace with its mate so high strung. In the end, it didn't matter, though. His girl was just as exhausted as he was and she drifted off into a semi relaxed sleep in one of the chairs. Through half-slitted eyes, Paul waited until he was sure she was deep enough under before getting up and carrying her to her room.
Paul couldn't remember what the hell happened to the pills he was supposed to be giving her. There was no question about ignoring his girl's wounds, though, and he gently pulled up her shirt to look at her knife wound. The scab itself was dried and the flesh surrounding it was a fading pink, telling Paul there was little if any inflammation and the wound was clean.
Unfortunately, he did catch sight of the bruise and that sent the inner cry-baby wolf into a tantrum. If he didn't feel so fuck awful tired, Paul happily would've gone outside, phased and bashed the whiny bastard into a tree. It took him three tries, but eventually he was able to leave his girl's room with only minor complaints from the wolf.
Ten minutes later and he was just as dead to the world as his imprint. Diagonally spread across his mattress, Paul didn't even bother with a sheet, pillow or blanket. He was barely awake enough to remember to kick off his own shoes.
The funny scratching sound woke Bella up instantly. She couldn't figure out where she was and when the flash of lightening illuminated the room she was laying in, creepy shadows danced across the walls. Sliding off of the bed, Bella crawled to the closet, curling up inside in hopes of drowning out the sounds and images.
The closet did nothing to help Bella relax. Every time her head leaned to the side, she'd jerk back up to that eerie whistling or from a bang of thunder. It also didn't help that the tree outside of the window would scratch against the glass. Not loudly but softly and sinister as if the plant was taunting her…kind of like the demons did.
With the thoughts of her previous captors in the forefront of her mind, the next bang of thunder sent her scurrying from the shelter of her room. The Paul man might be scary and if the demons came here tonight, Bella didn't want him to be hurt –especially since he apologized to her for her mistake!—but over the past couple days, she had lost the ability to be able to rest by herself.
Peering in through his door, Bella watched the Paul man sleep. The longer she stood there and stared, the more he started to move, twisting slowly from his side onto to his back and then sometimes rolling back to his side or onto his stomach.
What was she going to do? She didn't want to sleep in his bed, but the rain and wind were scaring her. Of course, she didn't need to sleep. She could sit up and wait until the storm stopped or it became day time. If she stayed awake, though, she was still going to be scared and then even more tired tomorrow when the Paul man was also awake. He probably wasn't going to hurt her, but she'd be a fool to let her guard down entirely.
The more she thought about it, the more she decided it was a really bad idea to try to sleep with him in his bed, regardless of how tired and scared she was. Last night's disastrous attempt to show her appreciation still burned harshly in her mind. He might think she hadn't learned her lesson and then…
Bella swayed on her feet as she remembered how the monsters punished her when she committed the same flaw within a matter of days, taping her mouth shut and tying her hands before placing her in a dark, locked cubby where rats and mice would come out and crawl over her. Sometimes, they'd collect bugs and throw them on her before closing the door. Instinctively the memories triggered the feel of creatures scurrying over her flesh and Bella whimpered quietly as she ineffectively rubbed her arms.
"Urchin?" Bella heard the Paul man whisper, causing her to drop to the ground. Holding her breath, she waited to see if he would say more, call her over, or get up to punish her. The bed made a rustling sound as he shifted some more, Bella inching her way out of his room to sit in the hallway. Another lash of lightening followed by the boom of thunder invoked an eeping noise from her and more rustling from the bed. She felt lost and afraid, unaccustomed to having no one tell her what to do. She didn't want the Paul man to wake up and punish her, but if he told her to sleep and stop being silly, she'd feel better.
Paul's eyes blinked open to flash of lightening. Before the recoiling of thunder could be heard, he knew his urchin was awake and close, her timidness and uncertainty the forefront emotions currently choking the wolf.
Shifting to his side, Paul watched his doorway when she scuttled out of sight. Logic told him to get up, grab her and carry her back to his bed where he could nuzzle against his urchin to soothe away the anxiety. Unfortunately it was wolf logic and Paul had to fight an inner battle to remain stationary in his bed while he felt his girl try to make an unknown decision.
He counted flashes of light to pass the time, curiosity pecking at him when she moved further away and back into her room, but not for long. The slithering of cloth against the floors told Paul she had a blanket and was headed for the living room.
It wasn't reluctance or hesitancy that kept Paul in bed for nearly an hour more. It was confusion. He wanted to tend to his urchin's needs and the problem was, none of his solutions seemed to be the right one. It was the indecisiveness that caused Paul to get up and find his girl. Neither of them would learn if they just pussy-footed around each other and unless she zombie'd or screamed, he had all intentions of sleeping next to her.
Barefoot and silent, he padded his way across the familiar surroundings, not stopping until he was next to the couch where one, scared, exhausted and partially sleeping urchin lay. Shuffling the blankets around his girl was reflexive. When he was content that she was warm, he slid onto the sofa next to her, once again amazed they both fit comfortably.
Despite the harshness raging outside, both wolf and girl slept peacefully together, neither waking again until the storm had long passed and the sun began to rise.