I Never Meant to Start a War

It was until the sun rose and attempted desperately to peak through the thick gray rainclouds that either of us made another sound. Paul sighed almost silently as he ran his fingers rhythmically through my hair, his breath touching the top of my head. His other arm, tucked around me, tightened slightly.

“I have to stop by Sam and Emily’s place this morning,” he told me, “just to check in. I would invite you, but you should stay here, get some sleep. You look tired.”

I shrugged and held on tighter. He chuckled before disentangling himself from our embrace, kissing me softly on the nose before he moved out of the room, down the hall. The bedroom door seemed to close behind him at around the same time the front door did, showing how much of a rush he was in. I waited a moment.

And then I slid out of bed, traded the sweatpants for my jeans, and started after him.

I wandered through the house a little slower this time, taking in the hallway around me. Pictures of solitude photography hung on the industrial-gray walls in between spaces for the doors, showing the spirit of Carrie in a whole. The silence of the house felt odd to me since I was used to an empty house, but this time I knew that there were two other sleeping bodies inside. I slipped down the stairs, carefully treading on the hardwood.

Hesitating uneasily in the front hall, I opened the door.

The crisp air of an early La Push morning slid around me casually, a slightly humid pressing on my skin with the potential threat of rain. I pushed the sleeves up on my shirt as I hurried down the street, knowing that it was about a ten minute walk to Sam Uley’s house. I needed to make it there faster than that.

I made it there in seven.

I came to a slow walk as I neared the house, holding my breath even though they would probably easily catch my scent or hear my footfalls instead. There wasn’t much sound coming from the small wooden house to begin with so I suppose my fear came with that eerie silence. I came closer.

I hadn’t necessarily been invited, so I didn’t really want to walk in. I wanted to hear what they really hated about me. Some part of my mind wanted to torture myself.

Nothing was said for a long moment. I took a step to near the porch.

The television suddenly silenced. “Spit it out, Paul!” came the exasperated voice of Jacob Black. “What’s up with the creepy smile?”

“It’s not creepy,” Paul’s voice objected.

A snort slipped through someone’s lips, and then came an anticipated silence.

“Okay, fine.” I could hear the smile even in Paul’s voice—I felt my cheeks blush. “Well,” the werewolf I loved started, “my imprint broke it off with the bloodsucker.”

I didn’t know how many wolves could have been in there at such an early hour, but the feeling of pure surprise made it seem like a million. Someone suddenly let their breath out, like they had been holding it in.

“Wait, what? Really?” Sam asked into the stunned silence. Paul had to have nodded.

The wolves morphed into gossip queens.

“How?” a voice chimed, sounding shocked.

“So is that why the leech was at the line the other day?” another asked, one I partially recognized. I do believe that he is one of Paul’s good friends . . . Jared? I felt a little guilty that I didn’t know, but it was probably with good reason—they didn’t really trust me.

Sam replied to Jared, “That must have been when he found out.”

“I still don’t understand why you’re slap-happy,” the first voice said thoughtfully, and if I had to picture him I would have pictured him staring appraisingly at Paul, trying to analyze him. I wondered what he looked like, if one of his friends could read that easily into his face.

His following tone suggested that he shrugged. “She picked me, Embry. You wouldn’t understand.”

Jacob still hadn’t said a word.

An unfamiliar voice came out of nowhere. “Do you really think it’s going to be that easy, Paul?” it asked in a scoff. “She’s a leech-loving bitch. How can you be sure that she’s not just playing you?”

It felt like a nail rammed into my heart as Paul lurched to his feet.

“Don’t you dare say that about my imprint!” he boomed. I heard the constant movement of Emily in the kitchen stop as the wolves froze as well. “I am happy! Finally fucking happy! I don’t care what you think about her and I don’t care if she leads me on, because you don’t understand what it’s like to know your imprint is there, even if it’s only for a couple of hours. You just don’t! She’s my imprint! My perfect girl picked me, so stop acting like you can convince me out of the imprint and just get over the fact that Marie’s not fucking going anywhere!”

Paul’s anger might have been escalated because of the way his supernatural power kicked in, but I wasn’t any less angry. I curved my hands into fists and started toward the door, my face more than likely flushed, my expression probably showing every through flashing through my head. Right as I had almost-silently reached the porch, one of the voices I hadn’t recognized spoke up.

“Just be careful,” they cautioned.

“After all,” I said from the doorway, “I am a leech-loving bitch.”

All heads snapped to me, and all faces went surprisingly pale. Sam Uley, who I assumed was Jared, and one I didn’t recognize sat on the couch, while Jacob Black leaned against the wall facing me, his face a mask of shock. Another sat in a chair, his hands clenching the arms. Paul stood in the middle of the room, frozen with his hands clenched, his face slowly falling as the blood completely drained from his face. I couldn’t even tell if they were breathing, too caught up in the horror that they were caught talking about me to know quite what to say.

I felt my eyes flash.

Jacob’s face was the only one to change, going from surprise to scary-calm.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice flat as his eyes strayed down. I looked down, confused, until I saw the thick ring of purple bruise around my hand, exposed by the rolled up sleeves. I felt myself turn green as I quickly slapped my other hand around it. But I think that only outlined how perfectly it fit the print of a hand.

Paul started to shake.

They all knew what it was, they had to. They knew enough that I had left Jasper and he had come to the border to try and fight for me and that I had to go home during all of this happening. They had to know that a vampire would be strong enough to do this. And Paul wasn’t too ashamed to look at me.

They knew it was Jasper.

“Vampires are strong,” I whispered vulnerably as I tugged down the sleeves of the shirt, watching how easily my problem completely disappeared under the fabric. If only it was always that easy for me. But this bruise would heal.

Would everything else?

I reached up and rubbed my face, my exhaustion choosing this one moment to catch up with me. I slowly took a deep breath and let it out, opening my eyes and looking around at the faces watching me, feeling the pressure on my eyes from just keeping them open. Fighting back my tiredness, I searched for the words I could say.

As they watched me in silence, I finally sighed.

“I’m a person,” I began. “So are each of you. And people make mistakes. Mine was that I trusted the wrong people; yours is that you don’t trust anyone outside at all.” I shrugged, smiling slightly. “And that’s alright. I don’t mind.”

I sent them a small smile before I turned around and walked away; the perfect metaphor.

~*~

I came to a stop outside of my empty house, slumping forward and resting my forehead on the steering wheel for a long moment. The cold leather felt a little sticky against my skin as I just sat in the car and breathed, squeezing my eyes together. In that long moment where I just sat there and let myself think, I didn’t seem to remember in time the reasons why I had left home in the first place.

The second I walked into the house I presumed as empty, I was met with coal black eyes.