Author's Note: I can see what's happening here, you can't believe I've updated again so fast. Well, guess what? Neither can I. It's truly a miracle. Most likely to never happen again.
Trigger Warning: Panic attack!
It truly was a shame.
Paul wanted nothing more than to savor every inch of Bella in the way she deserved — taking his time to trace all available skin with his mouth until he knew all the dips and crevices intimately. And the way she looked, so debauched and overworked, as though Paul had brought her to her very limit, served as the biggest encouragement possible for him to cross all boundaries she thought she had. Paul had never considered virgins to be particularly exciting — quite the opposite, he would much rather be with a woman who knew exactly what she was doing — but Bella triggered something in him that made him hungry for more.
Lying there, spent and sweaty, Bella probably couldn't even imagine all the other stuff he had yet to show her, or how much he wanted to work her body until another orgasm felt physically impossible. It was...sweet. Bella was sweet.
Had Paul ever been with a sweet girl in his life?
"Your father is about to arrive," he informed, dropping his body next to hers on the bed.
Bella snapped out of her haze. "What? No, no, no," she said, jumping off the bed and moving to grab some clothes, he imagined.
"Yep, about to turn the street," Paul confirmed while he considered if the Chief had good enough eye-sight to see the cum wetting his mouth and chin. If would be a shame to wipe it away. Hmm. Maybe he would risk it.
Bella didn't share his peace of spirit. She opened several drawers before pulling a flowy dress over her head, smoothing it over and over again, as though she had no idea what she was doing. "I haven't even thought about dinner," she mumbled, taking a deep breath before turning to face him. "Is okay, you can go. I understand."
"What?"
"Well, my father is coming home. Aren't you, like, going to jump from the window and disappear into the night? Wouldn't want him to catch you here, in my room," Bella explained, confused.
Paul could hear Charlie parking his car in front of the house as he answered: "Bella, my bike is downstairs. I'm pretty sure your father has seen it already. I can go if you want to, but I don't have to. Not like I'm gonna leave you alone, anyway."
"What should I do, then?" She asked in a hurry when the door opened. "Introduce you?"
Paul couldn't help but laugh. "He knows me, kid. You don't have to introduce me."
"But you-I mean…"
"Calm down, Bella. It's fine, okay?" Paul tried to comfort her, moving to sit at the edge of the bed, closer to her.
"Bella! I'm home," Charlie called out, already walking up the stairs.
"Great, great," Bella whispered underneath her breath, before saying louder. "In here, dad!"
Honestly, it was a true twist of fate that he had ended up with a teenager for an imprint.
Charlie opened the door, eyes zooming in on him right away. Maybe he should've cleaned himself while he could, after all.
"Paul! How you doing, son?" He asked, stepping into to the room to shake his hand. "How's Ana?"
"I'm good, sir, thanks." Paul shook his hand. "Ana is still the same. You know how she is: too much work and not enough sleep."
"I do. That woman is a saint, I'll tell you," Charlie said, turning to face Bella. "Hey, Bella-" Suddenly, Charlie frowned, eyes going up and down Bella's body. "Is that a... dress?" He asked, clearly perplexed.
Bella's cheeks flushed instantly, her hands smoothing the fabric over. "Yes. I can wear a dress," she said, and Paul tried to remember if he had ever seen her wearing a dress before, even on Jacob's memories.
"You can, but you never do." Charlie raised an eyebrow. Paul could see the amusement shining in his eyes, even though Bella probably couldn't, too caught up in her embarrassment.
"I do… Sometimes," she protested, although why she was wasting her time was still a mystery. Bella turned to him. "I can wear dresses, right? I look okay in dresses. What do you think?"
Wait, was that some kind of trick question? Paul turned to Charlie for help, afraid of answering the wrong thing when the truce between him and his mate was still so fragile. The Chief was the epitome of unhelpful, however, because the man was also looking at him, waiting for his answer, a small smile gracing his lips beneath the mustache.
Ah, fuck that shit. Paul turned back to Bella, whose expression was beginning to sour once again. "I-Are you asking me what I think? I don't really care, Bella," he said, shrugging. Better to go with the truth. "Wear whatever. You don't strike me as a dress kind of girl, though."
Honestly, one of those days they would have to sit down and have a serious conversation about the relationship she had with the bloodsucker, 'cause it just wasn't normal, the responses she gave to some of the shit Paul said. As he spoke, her expression cleared from the displeasure from before, but quickly shifted into a look of confusion that had bo place being there from such an innocent question.
"You don't care?" Bella asked, mentioning the dress with her hands. "A dress, Paul. Isn't it, like, feminine?"
"Bella, please. I don't know. It seems impractical to wear it with the amount of falling down you do," Paul pointed out, beyond done with that conversation.
When Bella opened her mouth to speak again, Charlie came to the rescue. Approval was clear in his eyes when he looked at Paul. "Give the man a break, Bella. And he's right, just wear your normal clothes, alright?" Charlie turned to him. "Are you staying for pizza?"
Bella sent an apologetic look in her father's way. "I was going to make dinner, but-"
Charlie waved her off, though. Paul could almost smell the happiness coming from him at the prospect of pizza. "It's fine. You gotta let me have some pizza once in a while, Bella."
Paul smiled. "I could go for some pizza. What time is it? The Mets are playing today at seven."
"Ugh, not you, too. Please tell me you're not a baseball fan," Bella pleaded, and she seemed to be trying to roll her eyes.
"Don't hate 'cause you're a klutz," he said, ruffling the hair on her head.
Charlie laughed. "We'll get you into sports, yet. We have half an hour. I'll take a quick shower, could you-"
"I'll order the pizza, it's fine," Paul waved the protest on the Chief's lips away. "Better than whatever vegetable crap Bella would choose."
"Now you're just being an ass for no reason. For your information, I love bacon just as much as you do."
"I doubt you can like bacon as much as I do, kid," Paul said, already going for the door. "Impossible."
"Well, as long as someone orders the pizza, I'm good. I need that shower now," Charlie said, turning to the bathroom after one more careful look at Bella to study her appearance. The man wasn't a police chief for nothing — Paul could see the calculating expression he was hiding behind the smile hanging on his lips.
"Wait!" Bella called, going after Paul down the stairs. "I can order the pizza. This is my house, Paul. What if you like pineapple as a topping?"
"I'm a wolf, Bella," Paul reasoned. "I like meat on top of meat."
He already had the phone in his hand when she stated: "No olives, Paul. I'm serious. I'll not eat pizza with olives."
"Who doesn't like olives? That's ridiculous," Paul said, shocked. "Bella, olives. One doesn't order pepperoni pizza without olives."
"No! No olives. Even if you pick them off later the taste won't go away," Bella said, trying to reach for the phone. "You have to let me order."
"Now that I know you're insane, how can I? You'll just ask for broccoli or some disgusting shit on it."
"Pizza is important. I want onions, alright? Lots of onions. Like, extra, extra onion. Otherwise, it isn't worth it," she proclaimed, making the sprinkle gesture with her hands, as though she was making the pizza right then and there.
Paul might have to reconsider the choice of the spirits. "Your taste in pizza is so wrong I won't even waste my time. I'll just order one weird one for you and leave the normal one for me and Charlie."
That was the moment she tried to backtrack. "What? No, you don't have to. I mean, I won't eat all that much anyway-"
"Can't hear you," Paul ignored, dialing and placing the phone in his ear. "Hey, good night. I would like to order two large pizzas."
The game had just ended. There were cans of beer and a coke on the table surrounding the empty boxes of pizza — Paul had to eat half of Bella's, in the end. It was mostly onion with some semblance of pizza, but he persevered in an effort to keep Bella eating. He had been glad to see her having several slices as he tried to explain the rules of baseball to her.
As soon as the whistle announced the end of the game, though, Bella jumped up and nearly ran to the bathroom. Paul held back a smile at her clumsy form as she went up the stairs. He probably shouldn't tell her that he could hear he peeing from where he was. No need to further the embarrassment.
"I suppose I have you to thank for Bella's recent mood swings, hun?" Charlie asked, taking a sip of his beer.
Mood swings? "Why would you think that?"
"Don't get started with me, son. Your name has come up once or twice around here for the past month."
Paul didn't have much time, otherwise, he would have questioned Charlie about what it was that Bella had said about him. However, for the time being, if Bella had already spoken about him before, then he would just roll with it. Her mental health was more important than his curiosity. "How is she?" He asked, hoping to convey with his eyes the true meaning of the question.
The Chief's expression darkened. He considered Paul for a second — perhaps trying to judge his motives for asking after Bella. "She spent months as a zombie, doing nothing, staring at the walls and waking up during the nights from constant nightmares. When Jacob started to come around, it was a relief. I could see the light returning to her eyes. Bella began to eat again and look… happy. Then Jacob got sick, disappeared, and she started to crash all over again. This playfulness you're seeing here... It's a recent development."
Paul couldn't exactly explain the imprint to Charlie, now, could he? There was no good way to explain the sudden change in Bella's behavior, even because he wasn't sure how much of it was due to her starting to hang out with Jake at the Rez again, and how much was the imprint influencing her. He needed more information, though.
"Bella seems… lost. She hasn't spoken much about her nightmares to me."
"She's always been a loner. I thought it was her personality — Renee claimed Bella was born an old soul. I don't know how much of that is due to the separation, however," Charlie explained, a strong sadness clinging to him. "She didn't have the best examples in the world in how to deal with breakups and moving on afterward. She wants to deal with all on her own, never asking for help. When the nightmares began, she would cry in shame for waking me up... It's tough, and I don't think she's anywhere near okay, but she has been sleeping through the night now."
Paul wanted to ask so many things, wanted to press about the nightmares and the things she said while asleep, but he could hear the sound of the door opening upstairs and the noise of Bella's footsteps, so he kept his mouth closed and, instead, rested his hand on Charlie's shoulder before adding: "It's not your fault. She'll pull through. We just gotta do what we can."
He wasn't sure whether he believed the words he said. Bella would pull through only if she wanted to. There was a lot she hadn't spoken to anyone, and that had to be eating at her insides, but he could hardly force her to open up to him when he had been such an asshole lately. He would just have to follow his own advice and be there for her.
Paul fished in his pocket for his key, knowing he had already pushed his luck with the Chief for the day. He wasn't sure why the man hadn't freaked out about him being in Bella's room alone with her, but he had the feeling Charlie was grateful to see Bella behaving like an average teen for once, and was willing to let it slide for the time being. That's why, when Bella reached the last step, he got up.
"I should go," he informed the room at large. "Thank you for having me."
His mate's heart instantly accelerated. "You're going? Already?"
"Yeah," Paul confirmed, locking eyes with her and trying to convey his message. "It's a school night for you and Charlie has to work in the morning. I'm also covering a friend's class tomorrow, so..."
Her expression cleared when she noticed Charlie's questioning stare, but her heart wouldn't slow down inside her chest, and Paul could smell the nervousness and panic coming off of her. Clearly, his attempt at calming her down had been a failure. Giving up on the crypt signals, he turned to face the man beside him.
Who, in turn, was already standing next to him, his hand extended for a handshake. "It was nice having someone around here who knows the game. And who appreciates a good meat's lovers. Send my regards to Ana, will you?"
"Yes, sir. You got it," he said, releasing his hand and looking at the door before sliding his glance back at his mate. "Bella, want to see me out?"
She seemed to snap out of a daydream, widening her eyes. "Yes, sure. Let's go," she said, forcing the steps forward.
"You be careful on that bike, son. I don't want to see an accident with your name on it," Charlie warned, a stern look on his face.
Paul tried to be sincere without being condescending when he promised to be careful. There would never be an accident with his name on it, but Bella's father had no way of knowing that.
"Are you okay?" He asked once they were outside. He leaned against his bike, observing Bella's face.
She had her arms crossed over her chest. "That depends. Are you planning on disappearing again?"
"Bella, I-Not right now, okay?" Paul tried to calm her down. "Your father is waiting for you in the living room. Look, I'll just go call one of the boys to take my bike home, and I'll come back to you, alright? Thirty minutes tops. We'll talk about this. Leave your window opened."
She didn't believe him — it was clear on her face that she was preparing for another disappearing act on his part. She said nothing about it, though. Bella nodded in agreement. "Fine."
Paul considered trying to be more convincing of his return but figured he might as well prove it by going as fast as he could to spare her the uncertainty. So, he nodded back, putting his helmet on and climbing on top of his bike before driving away.
It ended up taking him much longer than thirty minutes.
It seemed only logical to take the time he had as Charlie went about his nightly routine to do things properly. So, instead of rushing back, Paul shifted for a minute, asking Embry to watch over Bella's house until he returned before making his way home in his bike, taking the time to go over everything that had happened between him and Bella and process what he thought of all of it. It felt good. Being with Bella felt brilliant — but he had more than his own feelings to consider in that situation.
In fact, for the first time, Paul needed to consider his steps carefully. Bella wasn't in a good mental place — she wouldn't be okay with a long night of fumble between the sheets and no morning after. She needed attention, and care, and patience, and encouragement, and understanding, and stability… all these things — things that Paul wished he could provide —, and they weren't qualities Paul ever associated with himself before.
So he went home. Paul rode home, allowing the dark thoughts to come and go inside his head, as he juggled around the possibility of failure, of not being enough, of losing Bella, of losing himself along the way. In his human form, where his thoughts were his — and his alone — Paul allowed the handle of the bike to tremble slightly in his hands as the ruminations took control of his brain, making everything seem more daunting and unbearable.
Paul dropped his bike in front of his house, ignoring Jared's heartbeat coming from his bed — pretending he didn't want it, that he could deal with his imprint without needing to let his aggression loose on his brother —, and shifted to his wolf form, running the way back to Bella. He tuned out Embry's thoughts, singing the national anthem over and over again in his head as he tried to keep his insecurities from pouring over the flimsy barrier of his mind, and, in turn, his pack mate pretended it worked, singing the words alongside him, even as his worry and pity echoed in the deepest layers.
The pity became more understandable, however, when he arrived at the Swan residence, once again in his two legs as he jumped to Bella's bedroom window, and saw her lying in her bed, eyes glazed over as she hugged her middle with both arms and gasped for breath.
"Bella, hey!" Paul called, unsure whether he should approach her or give her space. "What do you need? Breathe, Bella!"
She raised her eyes to him, a wide look of surprise in them. "You-You're here."
A surge of regret curled into his heart, as he watched his mate's surprise. He was such an idiot. He knew Bella had abandonment issues. "Yes, sure, of course. I said we would talk; I told you I'd be back. I'm here."
Bella was trying to uncurl from her position, shame clinging to her as Paul came near her bed and crunched beside her. "I wasn't-," she gasped in between irregular breaths.
Paul laid a hand on her shoulder halting her moves. "Just breathe, alright? I won't go anywhere. We can talk later."
"I can't breathe. Why can't I breathe?"
Paul didn't know, and it was terrifying to see her struggling to inhale the oxygen she desperately needed. "You can, kid. There's nothing preventing you from breathing normally, you just have to calm down first. Tell me what to do. How can I help? Bella…"
"Don't leave," she pleaded, and her eyes were filled with unshed tears. "I'm sorry-I'm so sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry for Bella. The fuck? I'm the idiot here, remember?" Paul rushed to say.
His mind was reeling. Paul had lived many gruesome situations that would haunt his dreams until the day he died, but seeing Bella breaking down in front of him and not being able to do anything to help was easily the worst feeling he had ever experienced. The bond was tightening inside his chest and, soon, Paul was in severe pain — almost as though he was being given an insight of Bella's sensations.
Without thinking, he manhandled Bella into his lap, placing her entire body curled in the middle of his legs and her head resting in his chest. He wrapped his long arms around her body, squeezing as tight as he dared, in an effort to hold the pieces of her together by mere will force.
"Shit, Bella. Please, breathe," he begged when minutes went by and her breathing would not stabilize. He rested his forehead against hers. "Breathe with me."
And he forced his body to take deep breaths, inhaling slowly and exhaling even slower, allowing the air to mingle with the one coming from Bella. The warm puffs of air coming from her bothered his senses, and the smell of panic clung heavy all over them, muffling all other scents in the room, which drove his wolf wild, but Paul refused to fail again.
After an eternity, her chest began to rise and fall alongside his. Bella sagged in his arms. "I'm good. I-I'm good," she whispered, sounding exhausted.
"No, you're not," Paul contradicted, still in shock. He wasn't likely to ever forget that experience. "You're not good. I'm not good. This… We have to speak about this."
When she opened her mouth, he added. "Not now. Rest — try to catch some sleep. I'll stay with you. But, kid, you gotta speak to me about this. You can't keep having panic attacks on your own, hoping they'll go away on their own."
"I thought I was having a good day today," she said, in a broken voice.
Paul slid his eyes to the ceiling so she couldn't see the way they shut close at her words. Fuck if her words didn't crush his spirits like a boot did a tiny ant.
What had he done?
