A/N: I don't own Twilight, which I consider myself blessed for. Also, this was proofread by Sydney (vampiregirl93). She has also created a banner for this story, which I will post on my bio shortly. Thanks so much, baby g. By the time you read this, it'll probably already be there

Sorry for the update promises. I'm so bad at these things once I start making promises. Will I ever learn? (No, lol.)

Enjoy the chapter! It's not that sad, for a change.

IX.

i'm dancing in the darkness
three years before i was feeling so heartless

Leah and Kim entered the doors of Forks High School's gym with linked arms. Kim's dress was white and cut in a mermaid style with gems at the waist, and clearly cost the most out of any other girl's dress. Leah's dress was also white but more simplistic, as it was flowing and had an asymmetrical cut to it, similar to the dresses of all the other girls. Whichever way, Leah and Kim looked like a dream.

This year's Prom theme was A Night Under the Stars, and the gymnasium had been decorated to suit that—somehow. (It was Forks High School, so they couldn't do much else except try their best.) There were yellow-white balloons everywhere to represent stars, and the lights were dim. There was food, and even the music was good. Apparently it was the best Prom that Forks High had put on in years, so Leah found herself as impressed as everyone else.

Leah and Kim danced with Kim's cheer friends, and for the time being, all was okay in Leah's world. Her world was still blue—as it had been for a while—but it was many hues of blue. She didn't feel as still and motionless as she used to.

At some point, Leah took a break to get something to drink. She went to the food table and poured herself a cup of punch before retreating to the wall to watch the festivities from a distance.

When she was little, Leah had dreamed of Prom. She had planned on going with her faceless dream boyfriend and all her friends. She had wanted to get a limo and go to dinner and dance the night away and everything, surrounded by the group of people who she had once loved the most. Her perfect image of Prom was something out of a coming-of-age movie, with a hip soundtrack and slow-motion shots of everyone dancing and smiling.

Tonight, she didn't recognize anyone from her old life. She thought she saw Jacob (how could she miss him? He was six-foot-six and as skinny as a pole) in the corner of the gym, dancing a foot across from a skinny white girl with brown hair and two left feet, typically. Leah wanted to approach him, but he had a broken mind, and she would only feel stupid by talking to him.

Leah scanned the dance floor, looking for things of the past, and spotted Kim kissing Ashley Newton, one of her cheer friends, on the mouth. Called it. Then she definitely knew that nobody of her past life was here anymore. The badlands had consumed everyone and all that was left were the outlines of the people she had once known and her memories.

Amidst all the dancing and smiles and stolen kisses—amidst all the teenage dreams that were hers but didn't belong to her anymore—Leah finally understood all of it.

This is it, she thought. The pinnacle of high school. You find your people, and then you lose them just as easily. Nothing lasts forever.

Sulking against the wall in the darkness, Leah sipped at her punch until the plastic cup was empty. She felt a world of melancholia hanging over her head and she couldn't help but think, Is this how Emily feels?

She watched her generation indulge upon itself, and she wondered if she could ever belong to it again. She was so far away from what was expected. The way her world was painted blue, she couldn't bet on ever finding her place again.

"Pretty dumb, huh?"

Leah turned to her left, and she almost cried on sight.

Paul Lahote took a drink from his plastic cup of punch and smiled at her with the mischievous grin she had come to love over the years. "Hey, Lee-Lee."

Her empty cup fell to the ground when she wrapped her arms around him, embracing him to the best of her ability so she could be positive that he was back, that he was real. He felt just as warm and human as he had the last time. Suddenly, her world was red again and the retrograde was over.

"What are you—?" she began, searching for answers.

He laced her hand in his and started walking. "Follow me."

Paul led Leah into the darkness of the dance floor and started dancing to the upbeat song. No matter how upset Leah could possibly become with Paul, she did admire one thing about him: his ability to dance. Leah forgot that he could dance really well—it was almost hard to keep up. He spun her round and round, throwing in the occasional dip, and a smile never left her face. They were timeless.

"I missed you," she told him over the loud music.

"I missed you, too," he said simply.

Even though they were surrounded by people that neither of them knew, they were okay. They didn't need anybody because they had each other, and Leah didn't have to pretend it was that way anymore because it was true.

Leah and Paul danced to three more fast songs before she told him she had to go to the bathroom.

He nodded. "Okay. I'll wait."

Leah let go of him and started walking, but then she stopped herself and turned around. "You know where the bathroom is, right?" she asked. He was only a few steps behind her, clearly following her.

"Yeah," he said. "I went to school here, remember? I was just gonna ask if you wanted me to wait for you right outside."

"Oh. Duh. Yeah." The second he had returned into her life was the second her brain had departed, it seemed.

She turned back around and started to leave the dance floor again.

Leah hadn't been searching for her, but when she spotted Kim on her way to the bathroom as well, some relief swept over her.

"Kim!" she called to her.

Kim turned around and Leah hurried to latch onto her arm, forcefully pulling her into the bathroom.

Paul, clad in a white dress shirt, black slacks, and a gray tie, chuckled and leaned against the wall outside of the bathroom with his hands in his pockets.

Leah and Kim stood next to the door, out of the way of the multitudes of girls fixing their hair and makeup.

"What's going on?" Kim asked Leah. Before Leah could respond, Kim then added, "Wait, was that Paul out there?"

Leah nodded excitedly. "Yeah. He's back. I can't even fucking believe it." And neither can my heart.

"Well, what's going on?" Kim asked again. "Because you didn't have to pull me into the bathroom like you're crazy to tell me that."

"Okay," Leah said, trying to organize her frantic thoughts. "If I don't go to your place tonight, please don't be mad."

"I won't be mad," Kim assured her, "but why wouldn't you come over?" Then she caught herself. Her round, pink lips formed an o. "Oh, I see."

Leah nodded again. "Yeah."

"What are you doing in here hiding from him, then?"

"I—I don't even know."

"You could be out there getting it right now," Kim said.

"Kim, my head is spinning. This is just all so much, all at once."

"It really is. Well, do you know if you're gonna go soon?"

"I don't even know," Leah said again. "I think I'm just assuming things, but he hasn't been answering my questions. All we've done is danced."

"If it comes down to it," Kim said, "I'll tell my mom you went to Emily's place. And your mom won't ask, but if she does, you're still at Emily's."

"Thanks, girl," Leah said.

"It's no problem. Just be safe, okay?"

"Mm-hm."

"And meanwhile, I'll be doing extra-virginal things for compensation."

As if you're not gonna pop pills and make out with your cheer friends the second Prom is over. Leah grinned. "Thanks."

Kim gave a fierce smile. "Now go get him."

With interlaced fingers, Leah and Paul returned to the dance floor.

Even as she was already five-foot-eight and would remain that height for the rest of her days, she couldn't help but notice how much taller he had gotten. When he'd left, he had been her height, and now he had to have been at least six-foot-one. And everything else about him had grown up. His jaw was more defined, and his body was less lanky. He had some stubble growing along his chin, which made him look a lot older, too, but when she looked in his deep brown eyes, she saw a glint of the same kid she had grown up with. The same kid whose bicycle handlebars she used to ride up and down the rez, and the same kid whose arm she would lean on when they took long bus trips to Port Angeles to catch a movie.

The retrograde was over, and life was moving on as it should despite the changes.

They danced to a slower song with a pulsating bass line. Leah didn't know the song, but she made a mental note to listen to it again when she returned to Earth. For now, she was going to brave.

Close and tight, Paul whispered sweet nothings into Leah's ears, and she giggled into his neck when she wasn't being brave and peppering soft kisses on it.

"I missed you, Leah," he told her. "And I love you. God, I love you."

And with that, she truly thought she was going to melt into a puddle at his feet. There was no room for questions, for doubts, or for uncertainties.

"I missed you, too, Paul," she said. "More than you would ever fucking believe. And I love you—I love you so much."

"C'mere." His voice was rough, but his kisses were soft and sweet upon her lips. Painfully slow, too.

Leah had kissed Tom Anderson a thousand times, but none of them had felt like Paul. Paul Lahote knew how to kiss. He knew how to love. The fact that he did it well made all the difference between him and any other boy Leah had known.

She moaned against Paul's lips, and he couldn't hear it, but he felt it.

"I've got a hotel room in town," he said.

"Yeah?"

"Wanna get out of here?"

"There's nothing I'd rather do."

Paul now drove an amazing, peculiar lemon of a pimp mobile that he liked to call a car. Clanks and shitty brakes and all, it got him and Leah to the hotel he was staying at for the weekend, in downtown Forks. She wanted to ask him when he'd move back to La Push, but she didn't. With Paul, she always tried to focus on the now.

Upon entering the hotel room, shutting the door, and flicking on the light, Leah stepped out of her sandals and Paul put his hands on her back, unzipping her white dress as he kissed her. She put her hands in his soft hair with not much to grab. She could tell he had gotten a fresh haircut.

Paul eagerly tugged down her dress, letting it fall to her ankles. She stepped out of the pile of clothes and continued to hold him as they walked backwards to the bed. She sat down and he remained standing up as he started to undo his tie.

She scooted back against the headboard and laid on her back with her left leg crossed over her right. She watched Paul undress before her, and his eyes didn't leave her body; he took in all of her. Her white bra and panties only made her tan skin glow even more, and her body was a masterpiece. Her soft curves were more beautiful than anything he'd ever seen. The only thing he could think about was where he would put his mouth first once he got her naked.

She tensed up when she caught a glimpse of his abs after he unbuttoned and took off his shirt. Paul had definitely grown up—there was no denying it. His muscles rippled as he undid his belt buckle and slowly tugged down his pants. He was in nothing but his gray boxers, and she liked the view, but she couldn't shake the fact that she was just so nervous.

She looked down at her brown thighs, and then brought her gaze up to look up at him again, and all he did was ask, "What're your legs crossed for?"

She uncrossed and widened her legs, and he confidently found his place between them as he kissed her neck. He ran his hands through her hair, which ended just past her collarbones. She shivered when his fingertips ran along her jaw.

"You cut your hair," he observed.

"I did."

"I like it."

His fingers traced down her body as hers remained timidly in his hair, and she shivered as his mouth moved from her throat to her chest. He moved awfully slow and her toes curled against the comforter the closer he got to her breasts.

They didn't break the gaze they had for each other as she stopped thinking and finally took off her bra. She didn't know why she had taken so long—it made her feel kind of stupid. What was she so afraid of?

He took her in, kissing at her breasts as she tried to stay calm, but she couldn't feel herself opening up just yet. Leah was surrounded entirely by Paul, and everything was red with him, so she didn't have a choice. It wasn't that she didn't want him, but she wanted to know him and know that he was truly real and this wasn't some dream.

At the same time, she was afraid to discover the changes. She didn't need to know and she wasn't sure if she wanted to know anymore, even if it would be right.

He said to be cool. The nerve.

"I don't know how yet," she said.

He stopped kissing her and looked up with wide eyes. "Are you a virgin?"

She shook her head. "No. You?"

"Nope."

"So why does it matter?" she wondered.

"It matters because your nerves are going through the roof, Lee."

She sat up against the headboard and he followed her. In the dim light of the hotel room, she could see him perfectly. He was almost the same, but it was the almost aspect that killed her more than anything.

"I feel like I don't even know you anymore," she admitted.

He smirked, and she was fully convinced he was the same person he had been so long ago. "You know me better than anybody."

Leah folded in on herself, bringing her arms close to cover her bare breasts, which didn't really help. "You're not doing me any favors smirking at me like that," she told Paul. "How do I know you're being real?"

His face was serious. "If I don't know anything else, I know that I love you, Leah," he told her. Then he ran his tongue over his lip slowly, thoughtfully. He bit his lip and the way he released it made her want to forget how peculiar their situation was. Everything about him oozed sexy. It was almost too much, so she looked down.

He put his finger underneath her chin and gently brought her gaze up. "And that's the truth," he added.

When she peeked into his eyes, she got a glimpse of his soul. He was crazy, but he wasn't lying. His love for her was real. It was true and it was real and she didn't feel the need to worry anymore.

He took her soft hands and laced them to his rough ones. Her thumb traced the scar on the back of his hand, where his father had cut him with a broken beer bottle. She remembered that night, one of many nights, when Paul had ran to her house and sought safety in her because he loved her and he trusted her.

He was as real now as he had been back then. If she didn't know anything else, she knew that.

She felt tears well up in her eyes and she shut them tight. It was the first sense of non-angry emotion she had felt in a long time. Angry girl used to be all she was, but now she knew she was capable of more. Her lip quivered and he closed the space between them to kiss her. Her bare torso pressed against his, and her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him in closer and locking him in just like she always wanted. She wished she could lock him up inside her heart forever, but this was a good alternative. For now.

Everything but his lips was hard against her, and she unlaced one of her hands to touch him, which practically stung him. He shifted and freed both of his hands to explore her body in ways that nobody had before—she had been so undiscovered before him.

Leah laid back down onto the bed and he resumed, moving his lips down to her breasts while his hands stayed busy. Her body shifted and flexed with every move he made, responding accordingly. She whimpered whenever he touched her just the right way. She couldn't afford to be cool anymore. How could she ever remain calm in the presence of someone as luminescent as Paul?

He moved his mouth further down her body with his fingers carefully placed on her inner thighs. He looked up to see a work of art. Leah Clearwater was just too damn beautiful and she was his. The best thing about it was that he was hers, too. Finally.

Together, they didn't have to worry about pretenses or secrets used to hide their emotions.

They were as real as can be.

Alone, Leah felt her emptiest at two in the morning. With Paul, she didn't feel devoid in the least bit. Full and awake, she created shapes against the planes of his stomach and chest with her finger, focused on everything and nothing. He played with her unruly brown hair and nothing was wrong. Nothing hurt and she didn't feel blue anymore. Everything in her world was a beautiful lilac.

When they breathed together, Leah could feel herself truly breathing for the first time in a long time.

She didn't have to worry anymore.

She didn't have to worry about him coming to school with bruises, and she didn't have to worry about him never coming home at all. She didn't have to live in the fear of worrying about him anymore because she knew now that he was okay. He hadn't told her, but she just knew it. He didn't have as many bruises or dark circles under his eyes like he used to. Paul being okay made Leah okay, too.

"I need a cigarette," was what he told her that morning.

"So you smoke now?"

He started to get up and she followed. He reached into a box on the floor and then made his way to the bathroom and turned on the shower, closing the door behind him.

"And you're gonna take a shower," she murmured. "I don't get you, Paul."

He closed the shower curtain and sat on bathroom counter. She sat on the edge of the tub, feeling the heat from the shower against her bare back.

Paul took out two cigarettes and handed Leah one of them. Mindlessly, she stuck it in her mouth like she had smoked before—like, really smoked, not just when she was feeling edgy with Emily back when they were twelve and ended up burning their fingertips—and he lit it like a pro with his lighter.

"The shower's on so the smoke alarm doesn't go off," he explained. "The room's not ventilated well, so the steam in here carries the smoke off."

He relaxed on the counter, leaning his head back against the mirror as he smoked. Once she got past the embarrassing coughing part, she could relax, too. The two of them, completely naked, smoked in near-silence as the shower continued to run.

Leah gazed up at Paul as he tilted his head back and let the smoke slowly swirl out of his mouth. She was captivated by his every move. Everything around her was Paul, just as it ought to be. He was a living, breathing, smoking image of pure film noir. It was his essence that dizzied her, not the smoke or the steam. Either that or she was starving. She felt that more prominently.

"I'm hungry," she said.

He nodded. "Me, too," he replied. "Coffee shop?"

She nodded back.

"Let's roll out," he told her.

Paul took her out to Port Angeles, and Leah appreciated the gesture. She didn't want to be anywhere near the sharks in the central part of the badlands. She didn't want to share Paul; she wanted his presence to be undiscovered with the exception of her own knowledge because he was too damn special and he was hers. Everything on him was Leah, Leah, Leah.

Even though it wasn't as much of a coffee shop as it was a diner, Port Angeles' very best was still open when Leah and Paul walked in. The place never closed, but Leah hadn't known that. Prior to experiencing Paul in every aspect, it was like she hadn't known anything.

Leah, wearing her Prom dress under his leather jacket, slid into a booth seat and Paul slid in right next to her, wearing what he had worn to Prom (minus the tie). Leaning in and putting her hand on his cheek, she kissed his jawline, as light as a feather.

"What are you gonna get?" Paul wondered.

She kept her mouth on his jaw. "Probably pancakes. And grits."

He laughed an airy chuckle. "Okay, we both know that we can't get decent grits around here."

"You'd be surprised," she said with pursed lips.

"Are you trying to tell me that Forks knows something about some grits?"

She wiggled her eyebrows. "I guess we'll have to wait and see."

"So where have you been?" Leah asked Paul as soon as the waitress set their plates down.

"Everywhere and nowhere," Paul told her.

She began to pour maple syrup all over her plate. "Quit playing with me. You're not that deep."

"I lived in Sequim, back when I was in juvie," Paul said as he took a bite of bacon. "That lasted about a month. They got me treatment for my anger and ADHD, like with therapy and meds. I'm a lot better now. Then I went to Tacoma to live with my mom. Got an assload of family over there."

"Well, you know Mexicans," Leah interjected.

"You already know."

"Brush up on your Spanish a little?"

He smiled. "Sí."

"What'd you do in Tacoma?"

"Finished high school my junior year. Couldn't stand the assholes there. You know how people like to joke that La Push is ghetto? It ain't. Tacoma is the real shit, especially where I was. I busted my ass so I could get my credits and get outta that bitch-ass school with those bitch-ass people as soon as possible. I also spent a little time in California during the summers. My mom sent me to see more family in Santa Ana."

He could be ambitious when he had to be. "Then why didn't you ever visit here on your own?" she asked. Not like I've been here the entire time or anything.

"I was broke as a joke," he said.

"I would've helped."

"You're broke as a joke, too."

"I still would've helped."

"I'm not supposed to be seeing my dad," he added. "I'm not supposed to be anywhere near him, either."

"Oh."

"I'm not so broke now, though," he said casually as he put ketchup all over his scrambled eggs. Leah thought it was disgusting.

"How so?"

"Been getting business all over the place."

"Please don't tell me that shit," she said, shaking her head. "'Cause that's the same stupid shit Quil was doing and then he disappeared."

"Nah, not like that. Not drugs. More like cars."

"Like that's better. You're fucking crazy."

He smirked. "You like your guys insane."

"You could say that."

"You're paying for those grits," Leah said, pointing out the untouched bowl on the table. "You should at least try them first."

"We should go at the same time," he replied.

She smiled devilishly. "You scared?"

"Are you?"

They picked up their spoons and each put a small amount of grits on them. After counting down from three, they tried the food at the same time. The grits were as atrocious as Paul expected them to be. He chewed slowly, trying not to spit them out. Leah remained mostly mature and wrinkled her nose as she swallowed.

"Sorry about that," she told him.

"It's cool," Paul said. "Not all of us are blessed with good taste."

"I guess that explains why I'm so into you, right?" Leah asked playfully. Paul was just her taste.

"You could say that."

A/N: You guys will probably hate me for the next chapter, but this one was cute, right? I need to work on my fluff, though. This was crazy-hard to write. It's easier to write breakups... or someone dying. Or something.

Feedback is always appreciated. And I love my trusty three readers who like to review, but where are the rest of y'all?

Best,

HS