Matthew. His shaggy, curly, bronze-colored hair hanging down from three sides of his face. He was leaning over me - I must have been laying down. I observed his chiseled features, the stubble on his chin. You didn't notice the stubble from a distance - you had to be very close. I felt his warm, muscular arms around me. They held me tighter. My gaze shifted to his eyes. Their depths astounded me.

Doorbell. I was vaguely aware... someone was ringing a doorbell somewhere. Why? Who would be so rude as to interrupt this precious moment?

Matthew's mouth opened. He was trying to tell me something... but I couldn't hear. What was he saying?

The doorbell continued to ring, louder, and more persistent. It drowned out Matthew's voice. I was going to have to give this person a piece of my mind!

I shifted slightly, came back to reality, and opened my eyes.

Matthew dissolved.

I bit my lip in disappointment. It had been a dream. Only a dream.

Matthew Black was not here. I held back the tears suddenly threatening to spill over. What was wrong with me?

The doorbell rang.

So that much had been reality - and it had been what had woken me up.

I sprang off of my bed, out my open door, and down the stairs, making my way to the front door.

The unknown visitor was probably about to give up and leave - perhaps I should let them, as revenge for interrupting my glorious dream!

But no, it wasn't their fault they'd woken me up. It was only - I slipped my phone out of my pocket and glanced at the time - it was only just now four o'clock.

I thought for a second of how I must look right now - no doubt my makeup was smudged, my hair frizzy and falling out of its messy bun, my clothes wrinkled and frumpy.

No matter; it was probably nobody important and no doubt someone for my aunt.

I opened the door. My mouth fell open a little and I froze. There, his hair and clothes wet from the cold rain and plastered against his masculine body, his expression unreadable, stood Matthew Black.

I was speechless.

Vaguely I remembered how I looked and felt myself blushing.

We continued to stare at each other, waiting for the other to speak.

We really needed to get a door with a window in it.

Matthew cleared his throat.

"Hi," he said gruffly, averting his eyes.

"Hey," I breathed in response. My dream had not done him justice.

"Lorraine -" he continued, "Lorraine said you wanted to talk to me."

"Right," I said, shaking my head to clear it, "Yeah. I do. Er- do you want to come in?"

Matthew, in my house?

"Sure," he said.

I jumped back and awkwardly gestured for him to walk in ahead of me. He stepped inside and I shut the door behind us.

"Shoes, here, coat on the rack." I told him, gesturing to the appropriate places. Should I have offered to take them for him? No, that would have been weird.

"Do you want a towel?" I asked, unsure. Did werewolves need towels? Or could he just shake and dispel all the water?

"Sure," he said again. It was still impossible to read his expression.

I almost ran to the bathroom where I took out my hair-tie, shook my hair loose, and got rid of the smudges under my eyes. I couldn't explain my sudden nervousness - hadn't I agreed that I accepted him for what he was? So why did being totally alone with him make me suddenly so edgy? I almost forgot the towel on my way back to him.

He was still standing exactly where I'd left him.

"Here," I said, handing it to him. He took it, grabbing at the end farthest from my hand.

Had that been intentional?

I watched him dry off his hair, leaving it a voluminous, curly mess. I liked it.

He dried his clothes as much as he could and, once the towel couldn't possibly retain any more water, gave me an apologetic, lopsided grin.

My breath caught. I'd forgotten the dimples that made themselves known whenever Matthew smiled.

"Sorry, I'm still wet," he said.

"What did you do?" I asked teasingly, "Run the whole way here without an umbrella?"

"Most of the way," he said seriously, his grin gone.

I paused.

"You... literally ran here?"

I pictured him running down the street, his legs flying underneath him.

"Yeah, well, normal human paces frustrate me to no end... like the last several blocks I had to walk to seem... normal."

His steady gaze met mine, undoubtedly trying to judge my reaction.

"Oh," I interjected lightly, my pulse quickening.

Of course. By 'run', he'd meant really run, at his super speed.

I suppressed the desire to look away.

We stared into each others' eyes; each of us daring the other to react first.

"So what did you want to talk to me about?" Matthew finally asked softly.

"Friday. What else?"

His expression hardened, but remained unfathomable.

"What about it?" he asked stiffly.

"What's your problem?" I asked, suddenly getting angry, "And why weren't you in school today? The least you could have done after dropping on me the news that you did would have been to show up when I expected you to."

Neither his expression nor demeanor changed.

"What? Do you - regret telling me everything you did?"

His lips and eyes tightened. Apparently I'd hit home.

"Oh. I see. You regret it."

I was mostly angry. But I couldn't stop the tears from welling up in my eyes; I couldn't prevent one tear from leaking over the top of my eyelid.

I looked away quickly.

"Are you crying?" I heard Matthew asked, sounding shocked.

I wiped the tear away and faced him again.

"No! Why would I be crying?" I snapped.

"I have no idea!" Matthew's expression mirrored his tone, "Aren't you - didn't you - what's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me?!" I asked, outraged, "What's wrong with you? Why do you keep lying to me? You think it's fun to play with my emotions like this? Well - "

"No!" he interrupted me, his expression changing to relieved confusion, "No, wait. I thought - you regretted my telling you all. I mean, I regretted it yes, because now you know. Now you know... you know what a monster I am. And I - hate - myself for it." His expression turned bitter again and he averted his eyes, "As you undoubtedly do."

My anger melted away.

"Wait. I don't - I mean, the reason I wanted to talk to you in the first place, is that - I wanted to tell you that - I'm okay with it. And that I accepted it. And -"

"You what?" he demanded, his gaze once again burning my own.

"I accept you for whatever you are."

He groaned, shut his eyes, tilted his head back, and ran his fingers through his hair.

"What? I asked. Isn't that what you want?"

"It doesn't matter what I want!" he said exasperatedly, "How can you be so accepting? I shouldn't have expected it from you, should have just left - and left you alone."

"But I am accepting, so what does it matter?"

"That's the point! Even just telling you as much as I did put you in danger! Had you just never wanted to see me again, wanted to stay away - it would have made you safer."

"How so?" I asked angrily, "How am I not safe by knowing these things?"

"Because!" He took a deep, calming breath, his voice lowering again, "Because. There are things you cannot know. You accepted that much. But there's these - people. They've been after my mother since they knew of her, but they have resisted the temptation to hold her - so far - and only because there are more like her. If they even thought that there was a possibility of mine and my sisters existence - well, we most likely would not be here now. Which would have been better. But now that we are, if we are discovered now - you - are in so much danger. I know that doesn't make total sense, but I can't tell you more. I've said too much already. I know I won't be able to play the wolf side in this, like I'd hoped... No. I have to leave you, forever."

"No!" I shouted, panic clutching my heart.

He waited.

"I - you can't. Because - I've - ugh! I put myself out there before, I might as well do it now! I have nothing to lose except - you."

"What?" He asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Why would it matter to you whether or not I was safe?" I asked, my voice breaking. The tears were back in my eyes. I was struggling to contain them.

His expression softened.

"Paige," his voice was soft, urgent, and made my heart ache, "Paige, I told you. You mean the world to me - more than the world. If anything happened to you - I wouldn't live through it." His eyes burned as if from pain.

My treacherous tears escaped, silently coursing down my cheeks.

"Well," I said, drawing in a shaky breath, "That's why you can't leave me. I can't explain it, I don't know why, but - I feel the same way." I looked away.

Matthew was silent.

I dared to steal a glance at him after a moment.

His eyes burned more intensely than they had been, his eyebrows were furrowed, and he seemed to be drinking in my appearance.

"Why did I do this?" he whispered, his voice pained.

"Do what?" I whispered back.

"All this is my fault. No matter what I do from here, I hurt you."

"Just stay. Be with me. Please."

He shut his eyes tightly.

"I can't make any long-term promises. But yes. I'll stay. For now."

Relief, total, utter, and complete relief overwhelmed me. I was shaking. I had to sit. I looked around - we were still standing in the hall.

"Let's go," I started, "Let's sit down."

"Alright," he agreed.

"This is my living room," I told him as we walked into it, "Make yourself comfortable."

I collapsed onto our dirty old couch. He sat down carefully on the remaining chair.

"I know, it's not the nicest," I explained, "My aunt prefers to spend her money on clothes and such."

He nodded knowledgeably.

"Um. So. You - are going to give us a try then?"

"The rain stopped," Matthew said suddenly, "Wouldn't you rather go for a walk?"

"I - uh - sure." We got up again. Matthew led me to the door.

How had he known about the rain?

Author's Note: I've changed my mind about the sequel - I think I'll write a 'sequel' which would be from Lorraine's perspective about Lorraine finding love. What do you think? Yes or no? And would you read it?