𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑. paul lahote ✓

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐈𝐗

┏━━━━⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆☾ ﾟ｡⋆━━━━┓

HELLO AGAIN

AFTER BEING WELL ACQUAINTED WITH THE ENTIRE LAYOUT OF SAM'S PLACE, THANKS TO SETH, IT WAS TIME FOR AUGUSTINE TO HEAD HOME.

Only, the pair had been sat at the bottom of the Cullens driveway, talking, and neither seemed really hellbent on having Augustine exit the truck.

"I had fun," she told him, an honest ghost of a grin on her face. "Most fun I've had since the battle, really."

Paul's smile was wolfish. "Maybe we could— uh, hang out again sometime soon, then?"

The ravenette pretended to think it over before she gave him a nod. "I'd like that," she replied, and in a split second decision, she found herself reaching across the gearshift to press a quick kiss to the boy's cheek. Before she could even think about the consequences of it, she swung the car door open and stuttered out a, "have a good night."

Once she was inside, she was none the wiser to the crisis that Paul was having in the truck, the engine still running as his body was momentarily frozen. After literally picking his jaw up off the ground, he unleashed a small sigh before he put the truck into reverse, heading back where they had just come from.

And if his dad nosily asked why he was so flushed when he got home, all Terrance Lahote would receive would be a middle finger tossed in his direction.

⋆☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Augustine was having a crisis of her own the minute she stepped into the foyer of the home, evident from the way she was thumping her head against the wall. "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

Pulling herself from her stupor, she listened for any sign of anyone else being home. The sun was beginning to set, and judging by the faint glow of a lamp from the living room.

When she couldn't detect any of her family members scents, in fact, she couldn't smell anything at all. But when the floorboard creaked, she knew someone was in the home— she just didn't know who.

Venturing towards the living room, the golden light from the lamp guiding her, she looked around and found it to be empty. There were no impressions in the couch to signal someone had been there, the television was off, and again, no scent.

It was like the start of a bad horror movie, one with an opening jumpscare that came in the form of an all-too familiar voice.

"It's a crime to leave letters from the Volturi unanswered, topolina."

Instantly spinning around, she came face to face with her Italian pen pal, the vampire stood in the doorway she just walked through. Based on the way a dark mist was swirling around his hands, and the smirk on his face, she knew he was responsible for her lack of smell. "Not funny, Alec."

Alec Volturi's head tilted as he observed her for a moment, the mist disappeared as though it hadn't been there in the first place. Her missing sense came back to her and suddenly, all she could smell was the lingering scents of her family members and the potent one she identified as his.

"You haven't been returning my letters," he stated, and Augustine could see his jaw twitch in subtle annoyance. "Have you not been receiving them?"