Chapter 7: Control

We walked through the forest back to Paul's car hand-in-hand. Our conversation flowed easily—spending time with him was as easy as breathing.

"Today was wonderful," I said. "Thank you for taking me there."

"You don't need to thank me," he said, squeezing my hand.

"It was nice, just relaxing in the forest," I said. "I'm so used to running through the woods while I travel or hunt."

"You really love travelling, don't you?" he asked.

I chuckled. "It's the only way I can—"

"Help me!"

I froze, hearing the desperate plea for help west of us. I met Paul's eyes with a bewildered look on my face.

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"I'm hurt! Can anyone hear me?!"

Paul's eyes widened at me. "I heard that."

We both took off in the direction of the voice calling for help. I stopped running well before Paul did, the scent of the man's blood hitting me like a wrecking ball. Paul approached the man who was lying on the ground and clutching his shin; a bicycle had toppled over nearby next to him. From where I was standing, I could see that his injury was severe—it was a fracture so bad that the bone was sticking out and there was blood pooling beneath him.

Venom pooled in my mouth and my throat felt like it had been set ablaze as I inhaled again, his blood smelling like the most savoury meal that was just being presented on a platter to me. I took a few small steps forward, eyes fixated on the blood oozing out of his wound.

I barely heard the words of comfort Paul was telling the man as he tried to keep him calm to help him, nor did I hear his urgent call to the paramedics.

My mind was whirling with plans.

I knew the exact way to fracture his neck to make it look like he'd broken it in his fall off of his bike. I knew the exact angle at which I could throw him off a nearby cliff to make it look like he'd slipped and fallen while rock climbing. I knew exactly how to impale him on a far too sharp tree bough to make it look like he'd hit a tree in the impact of his fall.

All I had to do was shove Paul out of my way and latch onto the man's leg. I could practically feel his blood pouring down my throat and easing the burning in it.

"Natalie, I need your help with this," Paul said urgently, snapping me out of my reverie.

Paul hadn't turned and I didn't dare move. In his haste to help the injured man, he hadn't realized how severely the man's injury was affecting me. If I took one step closer to the injured man, I wouldn't be able to control myself. I locked my limbs into place and cut off my air supply so I wouldn't have to smell his blood anymore.

"Natalie, come on," Paul said, finally turning to look at me.

He met my eyes and I watched as the realization dawned on him, looking between the injured man and me. He quickly pulled off his shirt and balled it up, instructing the man on the ground to hold it against the wound to try and control the bleeding before standing up and jogging over to me.

"Can you get back to my car?"

I nodded tightly, not trusting my voice or my ability to continue to hold my breath if I spoke.

"I will meet you there," he promised, handing me his car keys. "I'm going to wait here with him until the paramedics come and then we'll get out of here, okay?"

I nodded again and he pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. I threw one last look at the injured man before jogging out of his line of sight and then bolting off at my top speed to Paul's car.

I sat in the passenger seat of the car, taking deep breaths and trying to calm myself down. It had been more than a decade since I'd had a drop of human blood and I'd been doing incredibly well with my self control.

It was never presented to me on a shiny platter like that.

I never would have wanted Paul to see me like that. He had no way of knowing just how close I'd been to spiralling into a frenzy of bloodlust and draining that man of all of his blood. He had no way of knowing just how close I was to ruining decades worth of work I'd put in to control myself.

I'd never touched a drop of human blood prior to meeting Will. When I'd been captured by the Volturi, they'd brought me humans to feed off of and I'd refused every time, yet it was Will who'd convinced me to try it.

Just once, he'd said, flashing his million-watt smile at me. He'd wanted his last time drinking it to be my first and last.

…but then I hadn't wanted to stop.

As I sat alone in Paul's car, the face of every single person that I'd ever killed flashed through my mind. Their looks of pure terror as they realized what was happening to them would be forever burned into my mind and I'd never forgive myself for letting it get as bad as it had.

I heard the blaring of a siren nearby and I knew I only had a few moments to prepare myself before Paul returned. I was incredibly tempted to run off before he arrived back to the car to avoid talking to him about what had happened.

I was ashamed of myself.

Our day together had been perfect and it was ruined in an instant. One little accident had completely destroyed everything.

Would he ever see me the same way again?

I heard his heart thudding in his chest as he approached the car. I glanced up as he emerged from the trees and had to look away immediately, scared of what I'd see in his eyes if I looked into them for too long.

He was silent as he slid into the driver's seat and started the car, beginning to drive the route back to La Push. After ten minutes of silence between us, I couldn't take it anymore.

"What did you say to him?" I asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"Which part?" he asked. I couldn't figure out how he was feeling from his tone.

"When I left," I said. "How did you explain me not helping you?"

"I told him blood made you squeamish," he said.

"Is he going to be okay?"

"The paramedics said he'll be fine," he confirmed. "Are…are you okay?"

"Define 'okay'," I said hollowly. "I…I'm sorry that I couldn't help you."

"You have nothing to apologize for."

"Paul, I almost—"

"Almost," he repeated, cutting me off. "I could tell from the look on your face how close you were to losing control—I could feel it. But…you stopped it from happening. You stayed in control."

"I don't think you realize just how close I was," I whispered. "I…I already had about a hundred plans in my head on the best way to make it look like an accident."

"How long has it been?" he asked gently.

"Fifteen years."

"So you drank human blood for forty years before giving it up?" he asked. "I'm even more impressed with you in that case."

"I…I didn't always drink human blood," I admitted quietly. "When I was first turned I drank strictly animal blood. But then…"

"But then…?" he prompted.

"Somebody convinced me to try it," I said tightly, not wanting to go into details about my ex-boyfriend with him. "And it was…better than how I'd ever imagined it so I just…didn't stop for a long time."

"What made you stop?"

"I realized what I'd become," I said, trying not to think of the painful memories. "I started to hate the monster that I saw when I looked in the mirror and I knew I had to change."

"I'm proud of you," he said quietly.

"You don't need to say that to make me feel better."

"I'm not," he said, reaching over and grasping my hand. "This connection we share? I could feel how close to losing control you were. I could feel how badly your throat was burning. Honestly, I'm surprised that you didn't drink from him—I know I would've if my throat felt like that."

"What would you have done if I had lost control?" I asked, fearing the answer.

He squeezed my hand. "I wouldn't have let it happen."

"I don't know if you would've been able to stop me," I whispered. "I'm sorry I ruined our day."

"You didn't ruin anything," he said.

"I'm a monster."

"No, you aren't," he argued. "You can't help what you are and you've done a phenomenal job at keeping yourself in control. Today was just a small hurdle and you overcame it."

I was quiet. No matter what he said to make me feel better, I'd still feel like shit about it. After all these years, I shouldn't have reacted the way I had to a little bit of blood. I'd thought I had a good hold on my self control and today made me realize how little control I actually held.

Paul's firm hand on mine made me feel a tiny bit better. At least one of us was feeling okay about what had happened.

"Do you want to hang out at my place for a bit?" he asked as we approached La Push. "Jared's not gonna be there—he's spending the night at his girlfriend, Kim's, place."

"Sure," I said halfheartedly. Part of me just wanted to curl up in a little ball and hide from the world, but spending time with Paul made me feel better. He parked in the parking lot of his apartment building and as we exited the car, instead of holding my hand he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, holding me close to him.

We got into the elevator and began our ascent to his apartment and I was grateful that no other residents in his building got in our way. I wasn't sure how well I'd be able to handle being in a confined space with another human at the moment.

After today, I was completely unsure of how my self control would be. Part of me felt ridiculous—my lapse in control was only because of how severely the man in the forest was bleeding.

But at the same time, I couldn't be sure. I'd come so close to draining that man, even though I'd just hunted a few days ago.

We got off the elevator on the fourth floor and Paul led me to apartment forty-seven. Despite how upset I was, a smile quirked at my lips.

"Forty-seven, huh?" I asked. He looked down at me and raised a brow. "I was born in 1947."

"What a coincidence," he said, unlocking his door. "I should warn you—this is probably nothing compared to the Cullens' house."

He opened the door and we stepped inside. It was larger than I'd expected it to be; the living room had a large, comfortable looking couch facing a television with an oak coffee table between them. To the left was the kitchen which had a small table with four chairs around it, along with the standard fridge, freezer, and stove. He also had a microwave and coffee maker on the granite counter.

To the right of the kitchen was a long hallway where I could I only assume his and Jared's bedrooms and bathroom were.

Immediately, I felt more at ease in his apartment than I did at the Cullens' house. I'd spent majority of my vampiric life in tiny apartments—I was much more in my element here. He pulled me over to the couch and sat down with me, wrapping his arms tight around me. I rested my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes, mind reeling with what had happened today.

"You're still thinking about it, aren't you?" he murmured.

"Hard not to," I muttered.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked gently.

"Not really," I admitted.

"How can I make you feel better?"

"Distract me."

He tilted my head up to his and pressed his lips against mine. A rush of warmth flowed through my entire body as our mouths connected and for a little while, I was able to forget about the nightmarish turn our day had taken.