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Playing With Fire
Chapter Six: Protector

I didn't get much sleep.

Hell, I didn't get any sleep that night.

In fact, I question anyone who could possibly get sleep after being face to face with death, just inches from having your throat ripped out, if it weren't for the werewolf that you should hate, but can't quite find the energy - or the willpower - to.

I kept listening, all through the night, though I knew it was futile. I knew it was useless to try to listen for Victoria - or for Paul, for that matter. Those werewolves were just as stealthy and quiet as the vampires. I had learned that from Jacob.

No footsteps would give them away, which frightened me. I hid beneath my covers throughout the night, not wanting to leave the security of my blanket, like a child. I felt like I was seven years old again, frightened and scared of the dark that held imaginary monsters that would eat me for their dinner.

The only difference was that these monsters I was scared of now were very, very real.

I sat on the edge of my bed, looking out the window. It was shut and locked, as if that could keep a vampire out. I found a sense of peace at watching it though, one that had eluded me all night. The sun was rising slowly, lightening the entire expanse of my yard. The darkness gave way to the light. Somehow, that made me feel a bit better, as if that applied to people and not just nature.

I shivered, despite the warmth of my room.

Paul hadn't come back last night. Somehow, I don't know why, but I wanted him to. Most likely because of the sense of camaraderie I felt whilst around him. I felt like he understood me, but he didn't treat me like I was breakable. He didn't put up with my "crap," and I respected him for it.

I sighed as I watched it become lighter and lighter. The sun never really came out - this was Forks, after all - but it was soon daytime. According to my digital clock, it was six in the morning. Plenty of time to get ready for school. Make breakfast, and whatnot.

It was a Monday, to top everything off with a brilliant red cherry.

I got up reluctantly, and moved out of the room. Charlie would have already left by now. He had to be at the station by six, and I had the house to myself until I had to leave for school. Somehow, that thought scared me. Like Victoria would take the opportunity to kill me while I was alone in the house, where she could torture me without any thoughts of repercussions, and then burn the thing to the ground to get rid of all the evidence.

Again, a shiver rippled through my body.

I made my way into the bathroom. Having foregone a shower last night, I desperately needed one. I still smelled like rain and dirt and the earthy scent of werewolf.

I made my way into the bathroom, looking left and right, as if my enemy would pop up anywhere at any time, and sighed exasperatedly before I opened the door and stepped into the room.

The shower was welcome. The searing hot water seemed to relax my joints, warming me completely. I lathered my hair with my strawberry shampoo, taking my time. I had plenty of time before school, so I figured why not take a few extra minutes in the shower? I scrubbed myself with the soap and shaved before just standing underneath the spray, relishing it.

The hot prickles of water stung my skin in a pleasant way, and I closed my eyes, imagining that I was somewhere else, anywhere else, but here.

After a while in the shower, I shut off the water and got out. I got a fluffy white towel and dried myself off before turning it on my hair, rubbing and forcing the dampness from my long brown locks. I then wrapped the towel around my body and made my way back to my room.

I opened the door, bracing myself to find the wickedly grinning face of Victoria, but instead…

"What the hell?" I shouted, clutching the towel closer to my body.

Paul looked at me, his eyes amused, "Forward, aren't we?"

"Get out of my room!" I shouted like an indignant child.

"I just came to see if you made it through the night," Paul said, rolling his eyes, "but, I'll ignore the fact that you shouted at me if you take the towel off."

"You…you…" I couldn't even find words. How could I go from being relaxed one second to flustered and embarrassed in the next? "Ugh!"

"Oh. I'm hurt." Paul said, his voice faking the pain he said he felt.

"Is that the only reason why you're here?" I demanded, glaring at him despite the fact that my face felt like it was about to spontaneously combust into flames. The blush had made its way all the way down my neck to grace my collarbones.

"You look like a lava lamp." Paul said, smirking.

"Yeah, well at least I don't look like a mangy dog."

"Yes, well, that's only when I phase." He said, not missing a beat, "Otherwise, I'm a stud."

"I really could kill you, you know."

"If you drop that towel, you just might."

"But - But, you just said you wanted me to drop it! You make no sense!"

Paul's smirk only grew wider, "Is that disappointment I hear in your voice, Bella?"

I was taken aback by the casual use of my name. Even though he had said it before - just yesterday, to be exact - it still took me by surprise. I expected him to use my name with hatred, with dislike, but he didn't. He used it like he would use any of his friends' names. Like Jacob's or Leah's or Jared's…

Was that what we were, then? Were we going down the road of a tentative friendship, all because of the events of yesterday?

I hated myself that I hoped that was the case.

"More like disgust." I was finally able to snarl at him, my eyes fierce.

He was smiling at me now, eyes focused on my face and no where else. I had to feel a sense of warmth from that. He wasn't raking his eyes over my body, he wasn't drooling - not that I thought I was drool worthy or anything, but I was a girl after all, and that was enough for most guys. He seemed to avoid looking at my towel clad form. Something that would have bothered me before, but it seemed like he was trying to preserve my modesty by not looking.

I felt a slight smile quirk the edges of my lips.

He looked at me, "What's funny?"

I made my way over to the closet, keeping the towel firmly in place, aware of the eyes on me. I was shocked with how comfortable I felt around him, even in this towel. It was strange, the strangest thing I'd experienced. Well, the strangest non-supernatural thing, that is.

I brought out a green sweater and a pair of jeans, along with my undergarments, and made my way to the bathroom. I could almost see Paul's bewildered expression behind my lids, and I let a laugh escape my mouth.

Laughing, how odd.

Especially since I didn't know why I was laughing.

I changed quickly into the clothes I had picked out, ran my fingers through my slightly damp hair, and made my way back into my room, where Paul was now sitting on my bed. He looked up as soon as I entered the room, and now appraised my form. It was even stranger that he would be more willing to look at me when I was fully dressed and not in only a towel. It was like the reverse of everything I'd ever expected when it came to guys.

Not that I had much experience, other than with Edward.

My chest contracted in slight pain after I thought his name. But I would live with it. Being with Edward was a decision I had made, and I wasn't going to live in fear of his name any longer.

Or…I was going to try not to.

Paul looked at me, and gave a lopsided smile, "What now?"

"Well, I have school." I told him. "What you do is your own business."

"I mean, you have school in about an hour." Paul said, his voice sounding mildly interested, "What are you going to do until then?"

At that moment, my stomach growled. I smiled slightly at the human gesture, but then another, louder growl came from Paul's own stomach, trumping mine.

"I win." Paul smirked, triumphant at the most childish of things.

I smiled at him, a foreign gesture on my part, and said, "I guess I'll cook." I said, making my way out of the room and downstairs to the kitchen. I didn't hear Paul get up, but he must have been following me closely, because I could almost feel the heat radiating off of his back.

And because, when I tripped over one of the uneven floorboards, he caught my elbow, wrenching me up with his inhuman strength, snorting something about how he doesn't know how I'd kept myself alive all this time anyway.

My cheeks flared red with embarrassment as I wrenched away from his hand, threatening to let him starve.

"Wouldn't be the first time." He smarmily said, reminding me of the disaster that was last night's dinner.

I ignored that comment and made my way into the kitchen. I decided to make some scrambled eggs. They were quick and easy. I had plenty of time to make them, and then get to school without worrying if I would be late or not.

The eggs were sizzling in the pan and I poked them around with the spatula. My eyes watched them cook as I tried to ignore the very large presence of a certain werewolf in my kitchen. It was alien, this feeling of having someone else in the room that knew of what was going on - Someone that wasn't Jacob, I clarified to myself. Because recently, that was the only person I'd been hanging around. Even after my break with the zombie persona, Jake was my best friend, after all.

Even if he had imprinted… I thought, gritting my teeth together.

Suddenly, I didn't want to see him at all, and I scolded myself for even thinking of him. His betrayal was a different one than Edward's. It left a whole wound of its own. The night at the diner slapped me in the face, reminding me that he didn't care for me feelings. All he cared for was…his imprint.

His Leah.

I felt my hand start to throb with pain and only then did I realize that I had been holding onto the metal of the spatula like it was the only thing keeping me grounded in reality. I pried my fingers away from the object and looked at my palm. The lines, red and precise, bit into my hand from where the cooking tool was clenched.

I switched hands, hoping that Paul didn't see what was going on, and flipped over the eggs some. A few minutes later and they were done. I brought out two plates and put the eggs onto them, setting one in front of Paul and the other where I was going to sit, along with forks.

"It might not be up to par with Emily's cooking, but I tried." I smiled to myself, moving to the refrigerator. I heart Paul snort, and figured he was laughing at my comment. I brought out two glasses and the carton of orange juice and sat one in front of Paul before moving to my side of the table.

I looked up and my mouth dropped.

Paul's plate, which had been full of the fluffy yellow scrambled eggs, was now empty.

"Oh…my…" I mumbled, sitting down limply in the chair as I just stared and stared and stared at the figure in front of me. He was looking content now, though I doubted he was full. The portion I had fed him was enough to feed a human, but definitely not a growing werewolf.

"Sorry." Paul said, and if I didn't know better, I would've sworn he sounded sheepish. "I haven't eaten since that pizza last night. And plus I've been patrolling all night, so…"

I blinked. What could I possibly say to that? "Uh…no problem."

It was quiet for a while, until I found my voice again. "Would you like some orange juice?"

Paul laughed, a barked sound, and smiled, "Sure."

He reached over the table and grabbed the carton of orange juice as I dug into my eggs. He slurped down two glasses of the juice before I even finished my food. I rolled my eyes slightly before looking at him.

He looked tired. Almost like Jake when he didn't get enough sleep after his watch. I felt slightly bad, because I hadn't noticed it before. His eyes were dim and his joking persona from before seemed to have been drained slightly after he ate. Well, it was a proven fact that eating a bunch made you sleepy, even though I know my small portion of eggs wasn't enough to get him full.

"What're you staring at?" He asked me, even his drawling voice sounded tired.

I didn't know how to answer that, so I didn't even bother to lie trying to cover it up, "You just look tired, is all."

His full lips twisted into some kind of a smile, and I cocked my head to the side, wondering.

"Yeah, well, it's no big deal."

A scoff erupted from my lips and I found myself skeptical, "Tough guy."

"I try."

"I know."

Silence enveloped around us after that. I didn't know what else to say. Again, the feeling of foreignness was pressing down upon me. Another strange, strange occurrence was the fact that he was letting his guard down - albeit slightly - in front of me.

I studied his features. He really did look exhausted. Almost sickeningly so. It made a part of me want to reach out and hug him. It was like looking at him as a child, so tired and helpless, when I knew that between us, I was the only one that was helpless. Having no supernatural powers or strength, I was the liability in any situation, something that clawed at me deeply.

Pursing my lips, a question I wanted to ask reared its ugly head.

"Any luck last night?"

This caught his attention, and he looked at me in wonder, almost like he was surprised that I asked him about this. His lips quirked to the side, almost like he was trying to smile, and the expression immediately became bitter. Something, I realized, that I really disliked on his face.

"Almost." He said the word, and I felt chills go down my spine. The predatory way he said that singular word was enough to prickle the hairs on the back of my neck. "We almost had her, but again, she escaped." He said through gritted teeth.

"To where?"

"The borderline between Alaska and Canada." He said, his eyes never leaving mine. "She went into the water after that, like she's done before, and left us in the dust. Those things are really sneaky…"

"You went…all the way to Alaska?" I said in disbelief, as if that was the only thing I heard.

Paul nodded, looking at me now like I was stupid. "I wasn't there. Last night, I was outside your house, in case she doubled back, remember? Besides, the others didn't even break a sweat." He bragged.

"Right." I said, feeling a slight tinge of guilt that I had put him out there in the first place. "But you're tired."

"You'd be tired to if you were up all night."

Right. I knew this almost as good as he did, because even now I was fighting a yawn after my failed attempt at sleep.

"You're tired too." He pointed out, the most obvious thing in the world to him.

"Couldn't sleep." I said, rubbing my eyes.

"You have no need to be scared." Paul said, his eyes soft, but no trace of a smile on his lips, "I am plenty capable of handling a bloodsucker on my own. Not to mention the fact that Jared and Quil were just minutes away anyway. They would help if I needed it."

His reassurance felt nice, but I knew the effects wouldn't last. It reminded me a bit of Jasper's curious talent of controlling emotions. You would be fine when he was in the room, but once he left, the peace faded and you were back to square one.

Why did my last image of him have to be his snarling, contorted face as he tried to kill me?

The pain struck me then, and I grasped at my arm, fingers digging into the thick wool of my sweater.

"Don't rip your sweater up." Paul said, "It looks expensive."

Slightly surprised at his perceptiveness, I groaned, "Hardly."

His eyes glanced to the clock on the stove, "You should probably be getting to school."

I looked to where his eye were and gasped slightly, "Holy crow!"

Paul snorted at that, his eyes amused.

"I gotta go." I said, rising from my seat, grabbing his plate and putting it beneath mine and sitting every one of the used dishes in the sink. I'd clean them later. I rushed into the living room, got my keys, and grabbed my book bag, slinging it over my shoulder as I rushed out the door.

"Bye to you, too!"

I turned around, looking at Paul's tiredly amused expression. I was halfway into the cab of my truck and called, "Bye!"

He waved casually from the curb, his eyes undecipherable.

I shut the door and cranked the truck. It roared to life in every sense of the word, and I started to drive off, almost glad for the distraction of school after the rather eventful morning I had already been subjected to.

As I drove off, I looked in the rearview mirror, thinking I would see Paul.

I did.

The tall, muscular form of his body stood, almost unmoving, like a pillar, and even from the distance, his gaze felt protective and feral.

Something about that stance reminded me that I wasn't as alone as I thought I was.

Yet, when I looked back, the space was empty, almost like he was never there in the first place.

End Chapter Six.

And there ya go! Chapter six is done, and I hope that everyone liked this little bit of Paul and Bella interaction. I thought it was an interesting chapter. Lol. I had a fun time writing it. I hope that everyone liked reading it as much as I liked writing it! Haha.

Anyway, I am stunned by the amount of reviews this story is getting. It means so much that so many people like this fic. I love to hear your opinions on this fic of mine, and hope that you leave a comment. Haha.

Thanks for reading!