A/N: I don't own Twilight. So now that that's out of the way, here is chapter 47. I really enjoyed writing this. I've also been LOVING you guys' reviews. It's really good to read what you guys think. It reminds me that I'm not in this alone. So keep doing your thing. This chapter is kind of important and a little explicit, as a head's (lol) up. Enjoy.

XLVII.

i like it when you come in
and take up all the space in my mind

At 9:35pm on New Year's Eve, Leah woke up to the shrill of her doorbell ringing.

A while ago, she wouldn't have wanted to admit to being this lame, but she was too tired these days. Not necessarily depressed, though. She was just tired because of her job. But the doorbell kept going off, and she knew that whoever was ringing wouldn't leave her alone until she answered, no matter how tired she was.

She groaned chucked her pillow away from her head, heading to the front door. The doorbell was about to break by the time she swung the door open. In front of her stood Jacob Black.

Braless and annoyed, she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned into the door frame. "Do you have any idea what time it is?" she asked him.

"Um, do you?" he asked in return.

"Humor me."

"It's nine thirty-seven and you're home alone on New Year's Eve," he said.

"I'm pretty sure Seth's here."

"Nah, he's over at Emily and Sam's house with everyone else. You should go."

"Will you be there?" she asked.

"I always leave New Year's parties by ten," he replied (and she wasn't sure if he was serious), "but yeah, I'm going. We all miss you."

"Yeah-fucking-right," she said. She began to close the door. "I'm going back to sleep."

"C'mon, Lee," he said, putting his foot in the doorway. "That's the saddest thing I've heard in my entire life."

"Okay, well, I'm sad." She didn't know why he was trying so damn hard with her. Why couldn't he just leave her alone like everyone else did? He didn't know her. He didn't know anything about her. What was her happiness (or the lack thereof) to him? Charity? It was pathetic and out of balance.

He just gave her a look. A That's bullshit look, because it really was bullshit.

Then she just gave up. She went to her couch and pulled on the same old blue hoodie she'd worn on the way home from work that day, and then she slipped on some flip-flops over her tall white socks. The look was completed by her party-ready, ratty gray sweatpants.

"I'm not staying long," she said when she finally looked at Jacob again, heading to his waiting car.

"Me neither," he said, not knowing if he meant it or not.

They drove all of two minutes to Emily and Sam's house, where Leah could hear the loud trap music bumping from almost a block away. When Leah counted everybody including herself and her brother, there was only a group of ten people. Everybody only had nine other people they kind of liked around here—how loud could they possibly be?

Leah entered the house, and she realized she hated everybody she'd ever known.

It wasn't even ten o'clock and everybody was fucking wasted. Emily was drunkenly trying to reason over something with Sam, Quil was grinding all over Kim, Embry just passed a blunt to Seth, and Jacob was already downing a can of beer. Oh, and Bella and Paul were standing in the kitchen, doing shots and having the time of their lives. Leah felt sick, anyway, but nothing made her sicker than that sight.

Jacob approached her with a beer, and she let it sit in her hand for a moment. She realized that things couldn't get much worse. She could either leave now and feel like an idiot, or she could wait to feel like an idiot until the morning. She picked the latter option.

Bella threw her head back and downed the shot that Paul had made for her like a pro. She didn't chase it with any lime; she was far past all that now. When she slammed down the glass onto the tall counter of Emily's kitchen, she just started laughing. Paul laughed with her for no reason.

"You're too much damn fun," he said, pulling her in tight by the waist.

She put her hands up behind his neck. "What, did you think something different when I was texting you for the last three weeks?"

He came in really close, his mouth by her ear. His voice was sexy and slow. "I always heard you were a freak, but..."

She giggled into his throat. "Talk is cheap," she said. Then she brought her lips up to his mouth and kissed him hard. She almost drew blood as she tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth. "I got something special just for you," she added.

He didn't feel a thing—he was too fucked up to even think straight. All he saw was Bella's hair, and then he looked past her and saw Leah on the couch with Jacob, their bodies close. They each had a beer in their hands and were just talking, but it looked pretty serious. He had his hand on Leah's knee.

The house suddenly felt a whole lot smaller. Paul was too drunk to figure out why.

So instead, he put his hands and mind all over Bella. She had no idea that Leah and Jacob were here, anyway.

"Hey, let's get out of here," he whispered to Bella. "Show me what you can do."

In Sam and Emily's bedroom, all that Paul could see of Bella was through the dim lighting of the crack in the doorway. Her long, brown hair flowed down her back, and she struggled to find a hair band to tie it all back. She checked both of her wrists, and then the breast pocket of her flannel.

"Shit," she whispered.

"Don't worry about it," Paul whispered, sitting back on the bed. Then he started to help Bella out of her flannel, but she quickly finished that by herself and was only in her bra.

Paul got the memo and quickly undid the front of his jeans. Bella went to her knees between his legs and ran one of her hands along his abs underneath his t-shirt and the other along his crotch.

Paul breathed sharply as Bella went down on him, and he made sure all of her hair was back the entire time. She was such a sight as she moved her lips up and down against him. She made it look like performance art. She knew just what she was doing. He watched her bob her head over him and from what he saw, she looked like heaven. Pure heaven.

And even better, she wasn't a quitter.

When he was finished, he hoisted Bella up so she was straddling him, and as they fell back onto the bed, he pulled off her leggings and hot pink thong in one clumsy, tipsy motion. Then he shifted her so that she was on her back, and he slid down until his head was between her legs.

She had her hands in his hair as he began to kiss the inside of her thighs. When his tongue entered her, a low moan rose from her throat.

He looked up, put his index finger to his lips as if to shush her, and went back to business.

As Paul worked his mouth through her, she translated all the noises she wanted to make into fingernail digs into his shoulders. She could have sworn she was cutting into him, but he didn't seem to be complaining. Her head was somewhere in the clouds. Where the hell had Paul Lahote and his skillful tongue been all her life? She'd always known of him as a sweet talker, but he was more. He was always more. He was so talented that she wanted to cry.

He got her off rather quickly, but she didn't mind. When she got off the bed, she scrambled along the floor to find her underwear and leggings. Paul stood up, pulling his jeans back up.

She couldn't find her thong, so she just put on her leggings and carried on with her life. Bella left the bedroom first after momentarily fussing with her hair, and Paul waited a moment. He took a step forward and realized he was standing on Bella's thong, so he just grabbed it and shoved it in his pocket. Then, after about a minute had passed, he exited the bedroom, heading towards the living room.

The party was still jumping when Paul entered the living room, zipping up his jeans. He looked around the area, his vision somewhat blurry, and he couldn't find Leah. He couldn't find Jacob, either. The house just kept shrinking.

So he found Bella on the couch with Quil, lighting a blunt. It had to be only ten-fifteen—Paul was just getting started.

Leah sat on the front porch with Jacob, and while the air was freezing, she felt warm in his arms. All she remembered doing was drinking beer, but she had to be crossfaded since Quil had managed to hot box the entire house.

Leah and Jacob were silent, except for the sound of their breathing. She didn't know why she'd fallen into him so fast, but at the same time, she wouldn't let herself admit it. Maybe this was just it—coexistence. Because even though they'd known of each other and didn't particularly like each other, they still had a bond. Maybe that was just the way things went.

Coexistence, she thought, is nice.

And suddenly, she didn't regret coming with him all that much.

She took another swig of her can of beer and turned away from Jacob. She looked back at the window next to the front door. Everybody she'd ever known—all nine people—were in there. Nine bonds, nine relationships, from as close as her and Kim to as far as her and Quil. Leah had never understood that; while she and Kim were somewhat similar, Leah hated Quil, but Kim and Quil also got along. It didn't make sense.

It was like Bella and Paul, too. Leah used to think she got along with Paul, and she now somewhat got along with Bella, but now, at this very moment in time, Bella and Paul were sharing a blunt on the couch. Paul had his arm wrapped around Bella's waist, with one hand secure on her hip.

Leah wanted to turn back around to Jacob and merely stay away, but that didn't work on her. She was awful at distracting herself. It took Jacob to get her back.

"They're both assholes, anyway," he said to her. And she knew that he was just being spiteful.

And she knew that he was right.

Leah felt her heart sink into her stomach, but before she could do anything about it, Jacob brought his firm hand up to her jaw and kissed her softly, slowly. He kept his tongue and hands to himself, and for a second, Leah forgot who she was and forgot who he was and forgot all about the other eight people in the house.

Then the second was over.

She pulled away. "I'm done," she said. She started to get up, forgetting that she was drunk as shit and high as hell, and stumbled back into Jacob's arms.

"Let go of me," she told him, trying to get back up. But he helped her to her feet and down the steps of the porch. When she was down on the dirt driveway, she pushed him away.

"Lee, where are you going?" she asked.

"I'm too fucking old for this shit," she said, starting to walk away, her flip-flops scraping against the frozen dirt.

He still followed her. "What do you mean?"

"Just leave me alone."

He caught up to her and grabbed her arm, pulling her back.

She turned around. "Leave me the fuck alone, Jake!" she yelled.

"Could you at least tell me what's wrong?" he demanded.

"I don't owe you anything," she said. "You don't fucking know me. You don't know shit about me, and maybe I don't, either, but I'm not gonna find it here. I'm too old for this kind of shit, so leave me alone."

His voice was quiet as he still held onto her arm. "You're gonna regret this," he said.

She got really close to him, and the words came out like acid.

"You just worry about yourself."

Then she walked away. He didn't follow her, but she sort of wished he would.

Jacob went back into the house and got yet another can of beer from the fridge. Sam was leaned up against the counter. He looked at Jacob with a serious face.

"What?" Jacob sneered.

"I think you're good, man."

"Fuck outta here." Jacob opened the can and returned to the living room.

When Quil got up from the couch, Jacob took his place. He sat next to Paul, who sat next to Bella. They were as coupled up as earlier, maybe even closer. His hand was on the inside of her thigh now.

"What up, Jake?" Paul asked, turning to him. His breath hit Jacob like a ton of bricks, not because it was that bad, but it was wildly familiar.

"You smell like pussy," Jacob replied.

Paul paused for a moment and then started cracking up. Then he hit the blunt again, the smoke swirling from a crack in the corner of his mouth. Then he passed it to Jacob. "Lighten up," he said, "it's New Year's."

It was actually only a little after ten thirty, but Jacob wasn't going to say anything.

The last hour and twenty-nine minutes of the year passed by in a blur, but then it was 11:59 and everybody was gathered around the TV, watching the Space Needle about to release thousands of fireworks. Emily started the countdown at fifty-nine seconds, and by the last five seconds, everybody in the house, down the block, in the county started screaming. Jacob was screaming inside his head, too.

"Five!" Leah should be here.

"Four!" She never should have gone home.

"Three!" Paul and Bella are traitors, but what's new?

"Two!" I'm gonna throw up.

"One!" I should have gone home, too.

Happy fucking New Year to me.

Then the house was truly celebrating. Embry popped more bottles and Quil lit another blunt. Paul and Bella started making out in the middle of the room like the world revolved around them, and Jacob awkwardly looked away, turning out to be right in front of Kim.

They spoke at the same time.

"My breath smells," Jacob said.

"I'm gay as hell," Kim said.

Jesus, Jacob thought. Do I suck that bad?

He turned again and met eyes with Bella, who leaned in and gave him a hug and a chaste kiss on the cheek. She swung like they were old friends. "Happy New Year, Jake," she said.

"Sure, sure," he said, breathing her in. She reeked of alcohol and weed and Paul, Paul, Paul. "You, too."

Jacob was home by 12:05. He should have just stuck with tradition and gone home two hours ago.

A/N: Tell me how you feel.

Thanks as always,

HS