How To Live With Werewolves

Rule Number Sixteen;

Accept your punishment with your head held high.

Last Time;

"Bella... have you..." she bit her frozen lip, eyebrows knitting together.

"Something is... different about you. Have you done the deed?"

~!~

My window was open. I stared at it.

~!~

Bella,

I wish to speak to you, if you don't mind.

If you do, leave your window open—if not, close it and I will understand.

Always, Edward.

Staring at the window didn't make the words on the paper in my hands disappear. In fact, glaring didn't do much damage either. As I took both these facts in I shivered—it had been three days, maybe more, since Jacob and I had last...

My fingers touch my mouth as if seeking the warmth, the echo of a burn he had put there. My face heats up with Rosalie's words; have you done the deed?

How far would we have gone before one of us stopped? My mind had been so fogged with him, I was sure I had drowned... like the time at the beach.

Everything reminded me of him—the air, the sun, the warmth, the sounds around me, the scent of pine. It was Jacob, home.

I stare at the open window and glance at the alarm clock on my bedside table.

I had to make my decision soon.

And if Jacob were to find out that he was here, in this room, with me, alone...

I swallowed thickly—would he be the stranger in the shower, groping me desperately as if we were two separate pieces he wanted to put together immediately? I already knew the answer.

That didn't stop the sense of will in my mind; the choice I would make was one that could either make or break me.

I felt this was something I should do—it curled in the base of my spine, threading it's way into my bones and then finally sinking into my chest with an almost sharp twist.

I would leave the window open.

But I would pay the price.

"Hey, Billy, is Jake there?"

"Sorry Bella," his tone is generally apologetic—the one I've heard before.

"It's... It's fine. Look, can you... do me a favour?"

A long pause.

"Shoot."

"I need you to get Sam to give Jake some more... ah... jobs, tonight."

A longer pause that hurts my head.

"Why is that, if you don't mind me asking?"

"No reason," the lie slips smoothly, "Charlie's just in a bad mood after his shift and I don't think he'd like finding Jake in my room tonight," Or Edward...

"...Alright then."

"Thank you Billy."

"No problem. Bella?"

I pause, biting my bottom lip.

"Yes?"

"Be safe."

Click.

I'm on my laptop, reading a response from Renee when I feel a certain chill in the room. I turn, expecting him to be there but of course he isn't. It's the wind, taunting me, it's voice whispering my mistake.

I ignore it, reading quickly. Phil's better, she's sorry about Harry's death and she misses me. I send her love and more news—the grounding—and wait. Then I scroll through some games, play Zombies VS Plants for an hour before starting dinner. The sun makes it's escape behind the clouds as I marinade some chicken and stick it in the fridge for a while, watching a movie before cooking. Charlie comes in, and I think for a blind moment that he knows what I've said to Billy. Instead, he ruffles my hair, complains about work and takes a seat. He cracks open a can of beer, takes a gulp and reads the paper from this morning.

I watch him amusedly, making some pasta when I feel it.

Something inside my chest aches.

It's the imprint, I try to reason, plating dinner and sitting with Charlie in the living room.

We watch some money-show and talk about nothing at all. My stomach is clenched tight with nerves and I can only eat half of what I have.

Sticking the rest in the microwave I tell Charlie that I'm going to bed. I kiss his forehead because it seems the right thing to do.

"Love you, kiddo."

"Love you too, dad."

I take a long shower, thoughts finally away from my already overstuffed head and calm down. I might seem okay but inside I was freaking out. All the possibilities, the chance of something going wrong... it was inevitable.

I change into some comfortable track-pants, a singlet and hoodie because I'm freezing and wait.

Staring at the window, legs folded under me I wait some more. I don't look outside, afraid he's already there.

Minutes pass. Then hours. Maybe three... I don't know for sure.

Trying to remember his face takes up a lot of time. I could easily find the picture, glimpse at it, but somehow I don't think it will do him justice. His voice in my head has long since been gone and I think that hearing it one more time might be the death of me.

He might be the death of me.

I fall asleep, head at an awkward angle, shivering.

In my dream, which is in black and white, I'm staring at a figure in the forest. The only way I know it's a person is because no tree could be that pale white unless dying or dead.

Behind me, I feel the warm breath that I know is Jacob. Taller than me even in wolf form, the fine hairs of his muzzle press to my cheek.

"Bella..." a voice breathes and it isn't anything like Edwards. In fact, it sounds like Mike Newton.

"I told you not to be reckless..."

"You said it would be like you never existed, too."

"I didn't... I haven't..."

"You lied."

Jacob, without warning, snarls and jumps into the fray, tearing into the forest like a hurricane. Debris of tree, dirt, rocks fly all over the place and he's gone in the whirlwind of mess. Behind is shattered pieces of glass. I look down, notice something wrong with my chest. There's a hole. It's the size of my fist. I feel like throwing up but know that the smell of blood isn't real. The colour of red runs rivers down my shirt, to the waistband of my jeans where the material soaks it up.

I look at the glittering mess. I pick up each piece, following the 'bread crumbs'.

"I can fix this," I whisper.

"Bella..."

I stir awake, not sure if I should still be seeing the world in black and white. But here we are.

Purple, blue, green, topaz—Topaz.

I look.

Edward is a mess. Well, as much of a mess a vampire can be. His clothes are ripped, torn, covered in what looks like caked mud and there's dried blood in the corner of his mouth. His black dress pants are torn at the knees, have what looks like claw marks in the side, and he has no shoes. He watches me with the eyes of a predator but I'm not afraid. Not anymore.

That's not what startles me. It's his eyes.

Once a beautiful gold are now rimmed with red.

I feel my throat close up with the sight—the blood on his mouth might not be deer. Taking in my gaze, he smiles, a row of perfect white sharpened teeth.

"Edward," I breathe, because I'm not sure what happens now.

"I told you not to be reckless," he says, voice like honey on a blade.

Déjà vu.

"You said it would be like you never existed... but you did... in here," I gesture to my chest, hands shaking.

It's so cold.

"Surely... you never believed me, did you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"When I said I didn't want you anymore—

Jake...

"I lied."

He rubs the back of his neck like a suddenly shy schoolboy.

"I must admit, at first it scared me that you allowed me to hurt you like that, so deeply. After everything we had been through, you merely gave up the idea that I still care for you, that I love you."

I hadn't missed it.

"Why should you? You're... You were perfect."

He frowns and the blood moves with it. But he continues as if I hadn't spoken, hands falling to his sides, eyes taking in every inch of my room.

"Alice was always watching, though. And then you disappeared. I had to be sure you were alive but I told myself I would accept it as punishment for what I had done to you. I wanted to run here..."

He smiles that crooked smile and my heart jerks noisily against my ribs, pounding in my head. His scent, sharp as ever, fills my lungs and his words bruise the very tender insides near my heart.

"Rosalie was there, telling me not to go anyway. That I didn't deserve you even if you were alive. I figured out she'd been here and kept a close eye on Alice—she couldn't see you. Maybe you had died, and Rose was playing with me. But then I..."

He steps closer, the first movement since his hands and I find my breathing difficult to accomplish.

"I had to be sure."

Another step. Then three.

He's at the end of my bed, fingers touching the quilt as if an old friend.

"And your... diet?" I manage to get out around a lungful of what now tastes like... vampire. Bleach. Lavender. Earth.

"I... strayed from the path again. I had my own ways of dealing with heartbreak."

"How many?"

"It doesn't matter. They were no longer human—their thoughts so impure it made me want to draw out their death that much longer."

His voice, even with that tint of perfection, makes his words seem harmless. In actual fact, they hurt.

"But I was good, keeping between the two. It was hard, at first. I learned to control it, barely. When I got too deep into the... other fruits," he chuckles "I would imagine it was someone I loved and was able to stop."

He meets my eyes.

The message all along was clear; he still loved me.

"I have to ask," he spoke after letting all this sink in. "What is that smell?"

"What?"

"That smell... like wet do—

Some use the term 'saved by the bell' in intense situations. I believe this term, however would have to be 'saved by the wolves'.

Because at that moment Edward had tried to say dog (my guess) a howl sounded in the forest not too far away.

I knew, with every inch of me, that this was not good.

Charlie, watching TV downstairs would hear it too. He would probably come upstairs, any minute now, to check if things were alright or ask if I heard the sound too.

Someone from the pack would burst into my room—Jake, maybe—and try to tear Edwards throat out.

Edward, not able to read my mind, still understood that this was not good. At all.

Without so much as a word, he wrapped his marble-cold arm around my waist and pulled me out the window.

He ran with me in his arms before I could cry my protest.

[Review Rant and Notes]

Oh, what's this? Another chapter already? What can I say, I got some time on my hands. And I've missed all you lovely people.

I have ANOTHER fic sitting here gathering dust. I must warn you, it's got a bit of crack. Like a smudge. Or dot. And it's rather... hinty. Ish.

It's a Sam/Emily and Emily/Bella and Bella/Jake fic. Well, two. I think. Under Pressure and The Touch. Enjoy, folks.

BrookeBelikov – hope I did good in this one. I'm using a lot of cliff-hangers but in this one I got writers block... thank you for the luck, I may need it!

Noini – I wish that Edward wasn't such an ass. But here we are. Aha.

Notashamedtobe – I know, right? But this fanfic would be over so much quicker without a little EddySparklePants.

AngelofDeath07 – Thank you, it is pretty busy but I think I'm handling it well. I hope you like this chapter, though. I had to put a bit of space between Bella and Jake because let's face it. 'I Missed You!' hugs are better than 'Don't Leave Me!' hugs.

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