Author's Note: Well, I've finally graduated! (Holy crap, I've graduated! Where'd the time go?) Anyway, now I just have work, civic band, internet malfunctions, and other little things to prevent me from updating... in other words, they should come sooner! Thank you all for waiting so very very long! Please review!
I awoke with a start early the next morning; hints of the sun were just begining to peek though the thick curtains.
I sighed, unwilling to move, loving the warm embrace of the plush cushion under and around me, sucking me futher into the lavish layers of comfort. I let myself relax into it again.
I had never lain on anything so comfortable in my entire life.
I closed my eyes and thought about drifting back into another delicious sleep, but my mind was already way too awake to make any progress in that regard.
Matthew had said that we'd be off to an early start today; what could he possibly have planned?
I looked at the clock on the opposite wall. Six-ten a.m. No doubt way too early for Matthew's activity.
Even so, I needed to get ready; I wanted to look my best when Matthew saw me and so planned to be fully groomed by the time he came looking for me.
I pried myself out of bed reluctantly, the thought of Matthew in the next room the only factor motivational enough to make me move. I opened my suitcase and dug through the various attire I'd packed. What sort of thing should I wear? I still had no idea what we were doing. How frustrating.
I shut my suitcase again in discouragement and grabbed my bag of toiletries instead. After slowly washing my face, brushing my teeth, putting on my usual light touches of makeup and dash of perfume, and running a brush through my hair, I could delay it no longer and planned to semi-dress up. Better safe than sorry, I figured. I'd just lifted the lid on my suitcase when a light rapping sounded on my door.
"Paige?" Matthew's voice, soft and sexy, called quietly through the door, "Are you awake?"
Like he hadn't heard me moving around. Was it sad how my heart still ached with emotion when he said my name?
"Yeah," I answered, glad I had had enough time to prepare myself before he'd come.
I rushed to to the grand doors and pulled them open.
There Matthew stood, no doubt not having groomed himself at all, yet looking as sexy and overwhelmingly attractive as usual. He was already dressed, and in a nice pair of jeans and a tee shirt.
"Good morning," he greeted me, his warm eyes smoldering, a large grin spreading across his face.
"Good morning to you too," I answered, smiling in return. I gestured for him to join me in the room, "So, are you going to tell me where we're going, so I can decide what to wear?"
"Not yet," he said, his grin widening.
"Not yet? When then?" I asked impatiently.
"How about after breakfast?" he asked, his grin fading slightly.
"Oh. Um, alright."
"You don't have to get dressed 'till after that, if you don't want to. It's all ready."
All ready. Already. Wow. His family sure were early risers.
"Okay," I said jovially, and followed him downstairs. The conversation flowed awkwardly between us; Matthew seemed reluctant about something. Maybe he was worried that I wouldn't like his surprise. His worry was pointless; I knew that whatever he had planned, I would love.
A T-shirt and jeans. Where would we go in a T-shirt and jeans?
We entered the kitchen and were met with a spectacular breakfast feast equaling the spledor of last night's. Freshly-made sausage, pancakes, eggs, strawberries, blueberries, powdered sugar, butter, cinnamon, orange juice, and milk lay in a delicious-looking array on the counter, stirring up a sensational aroma. My mouth watered.
"Good morning Paige!" Renesme called from behind us, coming into the kitchen.
"Morning. It looks delicious," I proclaimed, gesturing towards the food.
She grinned.
"I love to cook and all," she said merrily, "But the credit to this meal goes entirely to Matthew. He insisted on making you breakfast. I wasn't going to refuse."
I blinked in surprise and turned to Matt, whose grin was back in place, but only half as heartedly as before.
"You weren't going to tell me that, were you?" I accused.
"Absolutely not. But, you might as well enjoy," he picked up a plate, "And what would you like for breakfast this morning?"
"I can get my own," I answered, grinning.
"I know," he said playfully, "But humor me."
"Alright," I said, and chewed my lip thoughfully, "Pancakes and sausages with syrup. And a glass of iced orange juice."
"How do you like your pancakes?"
I smiled, "A thin layer of butter, a dollop of syrup, and four each of strawberries and blueberries on top.
He flickered ever-so-slightly, and two pancakes and four of the little sausages, glazed in syrup with the appropriate fruitful attire appeared on the plate. A glass of iced orange juice materialized in his hand. His grin widened gain.
I shook my head and laughed, noting the missing items in the counter's still-abundant food supply.
"You know I think I'm getting used to your super-speed thing," I announced.
"Really?" he raised an eyebrow, his eyes suddenly gleaming mischieviously.
"Well-" I cut in quickly, "Sort of. Still working on it."
"Mm," he acknowledged, letting it go.
We made our way to the table and sat down, another heavily-laden plate of food quickly appearing in Matthew's arms.
"So," I started, stabbing and biting off a sausage, "Aren't you going to at least give me hints as to where we're headed today?"
He sighed, "Alright." He rolled his eyes, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smile, "I guess I'll just come out and tell you already, before you get your hopes too high. I only hope you won't be disappointed."
"Doubtful," I said, instantly excited, and began eating a little faster in my angst.
"Well... I was just thinking that we could hit the trails and sort of go on a hiking trip - I packed a picnic - and well - I know this spot that's not exactly on the trails, but I think you'd like it and I could - maybe - if you wanted - show you - ahem - some more of my other side."
Disappointed. He'd thought it possible for me disappointed at that? It sounded like an amazing day awaited me; hours together, just us two, removed from the rest of the world, submerged in the natural beauty of the forest in a secluded, romantic picnic; these were the potential elements of a fairy-tale day. Maybe we'd even kiss this time.
"What -" I began, confused for a second as to what he'd refered to as his 'other side' before realization hit me. My heart began to thud painfully.
"You mean - " I began, lowering my voice instinctively, "You mean your - wolf side? Or - ?"
"Yes," he said hesitantly, "I could - phase - for you - if you wanted. Only if you want."
"Phase. What do you mean, 'phase'?"
"Change into wolf form." He sighed, averting his eyes.
I was speechless. A part of me had completely put the fact that Matthew was not entirely human, that he was some unique blend of mythical creatures - and a werewolf - out of my mind, shoved in into unimportance so that I could view him subconciously as merely the best guy that ever lived. I knew that that part - the larger part of me - didn't care about any wrong he ever could have done, about anything that meant he wasn't good, and I'd become so preoccupied with disregarding that angle that I completely forget that a bad Matthew was even a possibility. I knew that the love I felt for him was unconditional, but now the significance of his otherworldly traits bombarded me, bringing with it immense curiosity and burning desire to fully know everything about them, everything about him. I wanted to be close to him more than I'd ever wanted anything in my life.
"We don't have to," Matthew said - incorrectly interpreting my hesitance as dismay - his eyes casting themselves downward, "We could go to Seattle or something again. That was fun."
"No, no," I said quickly, "I want to go. Hiking. I think it sounds amazing. And I want to see you - phase."
He looked up in surprise, a shy smile creeping back onto his face.
"Alright then," he said softly.
I began shoving food into my mouth at twice the rate I had before.
"What are you doing?" he asked, amused.
"Eating quickly so I can go get dressed, now that I know what I'm dressing for."
"Ah," he said, chuckling quietly to himself.
I finished and stood up quickly.
"Be right back," I announced, setting my dishes in their sink. I ran upstairs to the bedroom I'd stayed in and rifled through my clothing options. Hiking. Of all the scenerios my mind had come up with, hiking had not occured to me. I finally settled on jeans, a T-shirt, and a sweater, and scrambled to get dressed and meet him downstairs.
"Ready?" he asked, his brown eyes unreadable, a small bag now strung over his shoulder.
"Yes," I announced, trying to sound as cheerful as possible.
The corner of his mouth turned up in the ghost of a smile.
He motioned for me to follow him, and started towards the well-hidden glass patio door at the other end of the kitchen. I followed.
He slid it open and we stepped through the portal into the picturesque painting that was the intererior view.
The welcoming earthy moist smell of the forest enveloped me and I turned to see Matthew with his familiar, heart-stopping grin plastered across his face. There was no sign of a trail; only a greater expanse of woods met my eye.
He took my hand, his grin becoming even more pronounced, my hand shielded from the chilly morning air of early spring.
"I hope you don't mind," he started, "If we deviate from the trail. Trails never take you anywhere interesting."
"I don't mind," I conceeded breathlessly, my mind blown from the beauty and perfection that composed my entire surroundings; that of the exquisite forest and of my companion.
We walked a short way in total silence, the trees closing the distance between us and his house, making us totally alone. We were far from any eavesdropper, any passerby... we were totally and completely alone together, surrounded by wild and natural wildlife. It was exciting.
"So," he started after a bit, "You were nervous about meeting my family...?"
"Yes," I said, laughing, "Foolishly so. You were right."
"Of course I was."
"Well, I knew Lorraine and you, and that was all I had to go off of."
He laughed and shifted the position of our hands so that our fingers interlocked.
My heart beat a little faster.
"Your mom is great," I said, "So nice."
"Yeah," he said, a tender look coming into his eyes, "She's definitely the greatest mom anyone could want. She's extremely patient, self-sacrificial, and incredibly intelligent. A little over-protective, but that's expectable."
My heart was warmed.
"Sounds like you're close."
"Well, yeah. We're a pretty close-knit family. You sort of have to be when your family are the only ones that know all about you."
"Ah. Yes, I suppose that's true. And your dad..."
"Yeah?"
"He seems pretty..."
Hot.
"Yeah?"
"Well, awesome." I saw where Matthew's intense muscles, sharpness of features, and attractive physique came from. But more than that, his mischievious side, his lighting-up-the-room smile, and his attitude all seemed to mimic that of Jacob Black.
He laughed again.
"Yeah, it's like I said; we're all close."
"And Lorraine..."
"Yeah?" His voice dripped with amused expectations.
"Well, why does she hate me?"
He barked the loudest laught I'd heard yet.
"Lorraine doesn't hate you. She likes you."
"Likes me?" I asked incredulously, "I'd hate to see what she'd be like if she didn't like me then!"
"Well, maybe 'likes' isn't the right word. Okay, for a human, she thinks you're cool. Very unique."
I blinked in surprise.
"'For a human'?"
"Yeah... she's not the biggest fan of your species."
"Why not?"
"Well, think about it from Lorraine's point of view. She's not a werewolf; she can't phase."
"She's not?" I asked, a rediculous sense of relief rushing through me.
"No. She's not a male. The gene - usually - only is activated in the male. We only know of one female werewolf ever."
"Wow. What happened to her?"
"Well, she's still alive. And in my dad's pack, technically. She imprinted on a guy a few years ago and stopped phasing so she could be with him. She now is living a happy, married life with four children."
"Wait, what does stopping phasing have to do with anything?"
"Well, if you wait long enough, you start to age again."
"'Start to age, again'? You mean you're not aging now?"
"Well... no. Not physically. But we were talking about Lorraine..."
"Yes." I swallowed, "You revealed that she was not actually a werewolf and couldn't phase."
He mulled over his thoughts before carefully speaking.
"Yes. So she's not one of us, one of my dad's side. She will never be a werewolf. But nor is she fully one of - well, my mom's side. She's not nearly as fast, not nearly as strong, and less durable. Even my mother is only half... and the - er - creatures in general consider her type to be lesser. But... she's not human either. She could never fit fully as anything. Where my double traits strenghten my - gifts of a sort - hers just cast her an outsider. She hears every petty, selfish thing humans think, which distances her further; she can't stand the drama humans create. She really hates the entire human race. She's doomed to live among them, but will never be one, could never trust one with secrets. But she approves of you as far as she can approve of a human. Which is saying something."
"Oh." I was speechless. I had never thought that there could be real reason behind Lorraine's spite. Now it made sense. An overwhelming sense of pity came over me. At least I knew what species I belonged to. Lorraine would never and could never be accepted.
How depressing. Her glares and condescending attitude seemed accounted for.
Then his earlier words and their full content hit me.
"So. You're not aging?"
"No," he confirmed again, softly.
"But what you said, about phasing then...? If you stop...?"
"No, probably not. I mean, I might be able to age a few years more, but Carlisle is sure that it wouldn't be many, and that I'd stop aging altogether at some point. And Lorraine and her age seems to be somehow connected with mine. She too hit a sort of spurt and stopped when I did, though mine was because I was becoming a werewolf."
He wasn't aging. I was. So even if we were together, even if we ended up in a loving, long-lasting, romantic relationship, it would still have be temporary.
It would be doomed.
So no matter how much time I spent with him, no matter how much I let myself fall for him would mean anything in the end, except more of a broken heart for me.
"So we're doomed," I said softly, not intending the break in my voice to happen.
"No!" he said quickly, "No. I mean - my grandfather had a plan, with my grandmother, and I don't see why it wouldn't work for us."
"What was it?" I asked, dreading the irrational yet unavoidable numbing, aching pain threatening to overtake me again.
"Well, merely that I could stay with you while you live your life. You'd continue to grow old, to live life like you're supposed to, and I'll continue to be with you."
That could get weird. I'd be eighty and he'd still be a young adult.
But did I honestly care about that, about what people thought?
Not a bit.
But what of my dreams of growing old together, of children and grandchildren? Was that out of the picture with Matthew?
I focused on breathing in and out, slowly. It would be okay. We would be okay. The panic welling up inside me was stupid, irrational, and pathetic. I needed to pull myself together; Matthew was waiting for a response.
"When are you going to phase for me?" I asked, changing the subject and shoving all morbid and heavy thoughts far away from my heart. I'd reevaluate them once I wasn't wasting precious time with Matthew.
Caution overtook his face again.
"Well," he said slowly, "I suppose I could, now."
I blinked in surprise.
"Okay." My answer sounded less confidant than I'd intended it to.
My uncertainty sparked mischief in his eyes again, and they were suddenly glimmering merrily. He proceeded to reach down to the corners of his shirt and pull it over his head to reveal a perfectly tanned, outrageously toned torso.
My jaw involuntarily dropped open a bit.
His grin widened at my shocked expression.
"Wha- what are you doing?" I gasped in shock, attempting to avoid ogling.
"Well, I have to be naked to phase," he said matter-of-factly, teasing me. My eyes were glued to the ripling muscles in his arms, watching them flex slightly with every movement. My insides melted.
"You have to be naked?" I sputtered.
"Well, I don't have to be naked, but then I'd burst out of my clothes and have nothing to change into if I wanted to be a human again. That could get rather awkward."
"Er... yes." Even thinking about imagining him naked was difficult to do. His perfection would probably set me over the edge and I'd explode from experiencing too many emotions at once. I felt my face flush.
His grin turned into a lopsided and affectionate smirk.
"I was gonna finish over there, if you were uncomfortable - which you obviously are."
"Well..."
"Wait here," he said, his grin sliding off his face entirely, becoming replaced by a look of nervous apprehension.
"If..." he bit his lip, "Well, it may freak you out. I mean, it will probably freak you out. You don't have to come close if you don't want. I'll move slowly, but I won't be able to talk to you while I'm a wolf."
"You won't?" I whispered hoarsly, still unable to think or process much information at a time.
"No. So... here I go. I'll change back right away, if you want. You only have to tell me; I'll be able to understand and hear you perfectly. I'll still be me."
"Oh. Alright."
He turned and walked slowly into the distance until he was gone from view entirely.
Was it my imagination, or did the forest dim a little in his absense? Was the chill I felt merely from the lack of his warm hand encasing mine, or was it an instinctive chill of fear? Fear of being alone in the woods, fear of seeing the wolf that was about to step out from the trees? How would I know it was him, if he couldn't talk to me?
I stared into the trees, hard, looking for signs of movement, rubbing my arms to dispell the early-morning cold. I listened to the silence of the woods around me when it occured to me that the woods was never as silent as it was right then. There was no sound of birds chirping, no sound of squirrels russeling. The only sound was that of the breeze rippling through the trees. It was eerie.
Movement by some trees in the distance caught my eye; I turned to look more closely and peered as hard as I could into the trees, trying to suppress the shudder that wanted to work its way down my spine.
The first thing I noticed was fur, a mountain of bronze-colored fur, taller than me and wider by far. The shudder escaped as I noticed a giant head attatched to the front of the fur - a wolf's head.
Instinct warned me that now was a time for running, for screaming; the wolf was the size of a horse, way larger than any wolf could ever dream of growing.
But - perhaps another, deeper instinct - wanted me to pause and appreciate the magnificant beauty of the creature. It's fur was only a little more red than that of Matthew's hair, and the creature screamed regality. It moved with a slow, careful grace; cautious and hesitant while unknowingly commanding respect. Its head beheld a naturally fierce expression, and - I noted as it grew closer - its breathtaking size really was awe-inspiring.
"It will probably freak you out. You don't have to come close if you don't want. I'll move slowly, but I won't be able to talk to you while I'm a wolf."
Matthew's words echoed in my head. I took a hesitant step closer to the creature.
It responded by speeding up it's lope and coming nearer more rapidly.
My heart wasn't accelerating nearly at the rate I expected it to be; instead it was slower than normal, almost frozen, each beat taking longer than the last and slamming my rib cage with a painful blow.
I studied its every detail as it closed the last bit of the distance between us, watched the fur ripple across the tops of giant paws, studied how the filtered forest light hit the fur and changed its coloration, how the leg muscles clenched and relaxed with every deliberate movement, memorized its feral curves, admired the cute ears, and - finally, as the creature stopped only about five feet away from me - I noticed its eyes. They were a deep, gorgeous brown, filled with intelligence and unspoken words. They were Matthew's eyes, and their expression was apprehensive, and tender.
My heart rate returned to normal. This was Matthew, after all.
A feeling of calm came over me then, and I felt unbelievably safe and awed.
"Wow," I whispered softly.
His eyes seemed to agree.
I walked over to him, then, and slowly reached out my hand to touch the fur on his shoulder. His eyes met mine and seemed to love my touch. The fur was soft and luscious, and my hand sank through it. I pet it a little, slowly, and then reached up towards his head, still keeping my gaze on Matthew's eyes. I let my finter trail from his ears down to the bottom of his chin. His fur was wonderfully soft and warm. I would have been very okay with snuggling with him as if he was a giant teddy bear.
He stared at me, his eyes becoming somehow harder as if he wanted to convey a message to me through his gaze. Unfortunately, I wasn't exactly as practiced as his sister in the matter of telepathy, and had no idea what he wanted. He jerked his head upwards, almost motioning to his back - as in, he wanted me to ride on his back? What?
"You - what do you mean?" I asked slowly.
His head jerked again, and he bent his knees, bringing himself closer to the ground.
"You don't want me to ride on you or something, do you?"
His head bobbed in a nod.
Me, ride a giant freaking wolf through the woods on an average Saturday morning? This kinda stuff was just - unreal. Impossible. Story-book quality.
I sighed and looked over his huge form. It would be so high up. I pictured him running through the woods effortlessly with me on his back, and a low-hanging branch taking me out mid-stride.
"Alright," I said, giving in. I would ride on his back.
He gave me a cautious look as if to say only if you want to.
"I do want to," I answered truthfully. As unreal as it was, it was exclusive. How many people could claim that they'd done what I was about to do? And it was more than that - the thought of putting my arms around this furry verstion of Matthew was enticing; I felt like a little kid with a new stuffed animal.
He bent his knees further until he was as low as he could get. I swung my leg over his back and clenched my legs against either side of it. My hands found grips in the fur ahead of me. I was tempted to try and tie the fur around my hands for extra protection, but knew that it wasn't long enough for that.
He rose, slowly, until he was standing again.
I looked around, amazed at how different everything looked from a few feet further up, getting nervous in anticipation.
"Okay," I said after a minute, "Are you going to show me how you run?"
Apparently this was indeed his plan. I felt his body beneath me give a little twitch of excitement, and then felt him take off.
Author's Note: Yeah, sorry for inconsistancy and the messed up timeline. Hopefully the length of this chapter helps compensate slightly for the excruciatingly long wait. Starting with this chapter, I will try and make them longer from here on out - I actually wanted to make this one longer before adding it but it's three a.m. and I'm tired and have to work tomorrow and so am going to bed and feel obligated to give you something for now. Anyway, thanks for bearing with me; please review!