Pairing: Paul/Rachel
Rating: M (language)
Genre: Angst
Words: 500
Prompt: TR Weekly drabble prompt # 2
Disclaimer: I don't own anything associated with the Twilight Franchise!
Bitches
Rough day at work. Dust covered work boots trudged through the door heading straight through to the fridge for a beer. Popping the top, he drained the bottle's contents in one swig before reaching in for another.
Rachel walked into the kitchen just as he lifted the bottle to his lips. She had something on her mind so he sat down at the table as she leaned against the counter.
"How was work?" She asked. He grunted in reply before taking another sip. Small talk, Rachel was usually straight forward.
He can't remember how it happened but ever since she'd come back and thereafter for the past nine months she'd weaseled her way into his life. He broke his number one rule when he let her spend the night after fucking her brains out. Baby Alpha was pissed. It was a good fight. Slowly but surely her shit started accumulating in his house. For some reason, it didn't bother him like it should have. He shrugged, "We finished the job." That was all he was willing to say.
"That's good." A meek reply.
He narrowed his eyes as he took in her dressed form complete with shoes. Huh. Her handbag and keys sitting closely by.
"Going somewhere?" He quirked a brow at her, downing the remainder of his beer. He tossed it at the trash can; nothing but net.
"Yeah."
He nodded, "could you get me another beer?"
He watched her tense and twitch with every movement towards the fridge. Huh, she was nervous with a little bit of excitement? Weird.
He took the beer she offered, tossing the top in the can. He took a swig watching her settle back against the counter.
"I'm leaving La Push," she looked up from the floor straight into his eyes, "tonight."
Both eyebrows rose at her confession. Huh, that was a twist he wasn't expecting. He stopped fucking other bitches when she made herself a fixture in his world. That was a bust. Mistaking his facial expression for real emotions, over her, she continued with false bravery. "Look, I moved on and I think you should move on as well. This," she gestured between herself and him with her hand, "wasn't going anywhere."
That was interesting because he thought that it could have gone somewhere considering her shit moved into his house and he hadn't stopped her. He turned down his ringlet of bitches when they called for dick. He was trying, right?
"I've already collected my things, " she said, shouldering her bag and picking up her keys. "Bye, Paul." She said before walking out of the door.
"Good riddance, bitch" he grumbled draining his beer.
Tossing the empty glass at the trash, he grabbed his phone from his pocket and scrolled through his contacts. He needed to fuck something, hard. Jeanne, she can take a hard dicking.
Busy?
No.
Be here in fifteen?
Yes.
He laid his phone on the table before heading to the shower.
A/N: I write under a different pen name on Tricky Raven. Thank you for reading.