𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐀 ¥ 𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

☹︎𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐄☹︎

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄: ☹︎𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐄☹︎

𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐲, when Bella Swan heads out with a single thing in mind she does it without question. She was a driver. She put her mind to something and saw it through (when she forced herself off her lazy ass to get it done). If she wanted cake, she'd bake it. Had to get her homework done, she'd get it done (though she never really wanted to do her homework). If she wanted to lay around on her lazy ass chugging soda and stuffing her cheeks with Nacho cheese flavoured Doritos (the superior flavour, she will die on this hill), she will. If she was willing to drive her fat ass down to La Push to get her hands on the most tantalizing ooey-gooey pecan chocolate skillet cookie the size of her fucking head with vanilla ice cream to top it, you bet your fucking ass she would.

In theory...

In practice, in fûcking practice, Ted had betrayed her and broken down a mile after crossing into La Push. Her POS truck just had to break down.

In practice the universe hated her.

In practice, Bella began to hysterically cry.

Fuck you testosterone!

Banging her fist against the wheel, she sobbed into her palms. "I just wanted a big fucking cookie! Is that too much to fucking ask for!" She raged, looking up at the stained roof.

She punched the steering wheel again, "Why did you do this to me, Ted? Huh?" She asked the truck. "I thought we were friends, you know. You're the only dude who hadn't pissed me off today," she continued to babble through her tears. "You were doing so well, then had to pull this shit," another punch to the wheel, her knuckle popped painfully and she winced and sobbed loudly.

Laying her head against her tree she cried to herself lamenting her pathetic existence as her uterus screamed at her for not getting herself pregnant after all the hard work it had done to welcome a fertilized egg.

"I just wanted a fûcking cookie."

A knock on her window had her screeching and flinching violently away from the sound. "What the Fûck?!"

She turned and made eye contact with a vaguely familiar face.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," his voice was low gravel, his eyes a deep dark brown, he was tall, Quileute. Bella tried to place his face as she rolled her window down slightly. "You're kind of blocking the way, Swan."

Bella blinked at the man for a moment sniffling slightly as she studied his face silently. "Sam?" The name rolled off her tongue before she could truly place it. "Sam Uley."

The man smiled but it looked foreign on his bronze face especially when his nostrils flared and his stare darkened. "Are you okay?"

Bella felt her lips start to tremble and Sam's eyes widened in horror. "No," she cried, shaking her head, fat wet tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'm not okay!"