Leah did not know much about her imprint, other than the fact that she was insufferably stubborn and so beautiful that she was painful to look at.
It was the tiny things about Rosalie Hale that made her stomach twist uncomfortably.
The way she moved her hands when she spoke never failed to make Leah smile. Something about her stony visage and blunt nature reminded Leah of herself and her dead father.
Rosalie was so... familiar.
It was terrifying.
Thus, Leah distanced herself.
She limited their time together until they only met on weekends, in the dead of night. They would barely speak to one another. Choosing instead to sit in silence while the ties that bound them loosened with every passing minute.
When Rosalie would eventually disappear into the forest, Leah always stayed for a while, inhaling the scent of lavender she left behind.
And somehow she knew, whether it be through the bond or just hopeful thinking, that when Rosalie Hale left, she never went far.
This was their silent treaty, their vow of casual longing.
Until, one day, Rosalie broke it.
"You barely look at me. Why?"
"What?"
"You heard me."
Leah turned even farther away, choosing to keep her eyes on the full moon instead.
"You sound a little conceited, don't you think? Do you expect me to stare at you 24/7 like everyone else?"
"People stare at you, too. You're just too busy brooding to notice," Rosalie said, not falling for her argumentative words.
"I stare at you often."
Leah glanced at her then, but still avoided her eyes as if they would turn her to stone.
"All of this silence is exhausting. We both want to know each other. We both want to be closer. How can we do that if you're afraid to look me in the eyes?"
"I am not afraid," Leah said, scowling.
Yet, when two cold fingers grasped her chin, she flinched like a beaten animal.
Deep, distrusting brown eyes burned into Rosalie's, promising harm if she did not remove her hand, but she ignored it.
"There. It's not so bad, is it?"
Leah opened her mouth to say something spiteful and insulting, but something else came out.
"I'm not into girls."
The chuckle that Rosalie released made her blush with embarrassment.
"First of all, I'm a woman. Second of all, I know that's only half true," she said.
"I heard about your fiancé and I'm sorry for what happened."
Once again, Leah turned away from her and back to the moon, but not for long.
Now that she'd been invited to look into her imprint's intense, molten gold eyes, she was quickly beginning to feel at home in them.
Rosalie touched her again, and she did not flinch this time. It was soft and gentle. It meant nothing and everything all at once.
The blonde leaned into her shoulder and spoke more softly than she ever had before.
And then she was gone.
In a dream Leah would never mention, Rosalie kissed her under the full moon rather than vanishing into the night.
Her words echoed in Leah's ear.
"I'm not him, but I'll mean something to you."