Between the Perennial Blooms || Paul Lahote

Forty Three | Dahlia

"[...] You've never seen a bruised god, they can only be broken. But I can break and I can heal, like no god can. My rage is more real than a god's anger. And it is more worthy of worship."
—e.r. | 'holy, anger, bruised'

• • •

It was nearly one in the morning by the time Bailey and Bella returned home. Jacob, Quil, and Embry had left as soon as they'd volunteered themselves to fight in the upcoming battle ahead and, after eventually coaxing Bailey out from her hiding place in the downstairs bathroom with the aid of Jasper's gift and Alice's soft words of reassurance, the two Swan sisters had been ushered into the backseat of Edward's car and sped off into the night. He'd driven fast, seemingly haste in his effort to return them to the one place they felt safe despite the violation they suffered at knowing a vampire had been in their bedrooms trifling through their things, and had driven most of the way in heavy silence. He was worried — that much was obvious if the deep furrow between his brows proved any indication — and even as he kept a watchful eye scanning the surroundings in front of him, his gaze still somehow found its way back to the two girls sat eerily still in the reflection of the rear view mirror.

Bella looked sick to her stomach as she stared down at the floorboard beneath her feet. Her complexion was paler than normal and her features pinched, and as she fiddled with her fingers nervously in her lap, she dared not once look up at her boyfriend staring just as worriedly from his place behind the steering wheel.

Bailey on the other hand, stared blankly out of the window with red-rimmed eyes. Her sniffles filled the otherwise tense atmosphere in the vehicle as well as the constant high-pitched ping! of her cellphone signaling yet other of Paul's incoming texts, and though she knew it was rude of her not to reply, she couldn't find the willpower to do anything but stare out at the blur of trees through the glass pane as the car passed them by. She knew Paul was worried for her — knew he was heartbroken by the thought of her crying alone in the bathroom while he stood miles away pacing the floor while whispering words of consolation that simply wouldn't register until he was whispering them in person. He was scared, terrified of the idea that one of the very things he was born to protect his tribe from was now after his Imprint too, and she knew he wouldn't appreciated her cyber silence. Nevertheless, she still didn't reply; and as Edward put the car in park the moment he reached the driveway, Bailey wasn't surprised to see Paul waiting impatiently for her on their white front porch.

"You weren't answering my texts," he greeted the moment she stepped out of the back seat.

Bailey didn't say anything, perhaps knowing that if she did, her voice would only crack, yet as she simply stood there staring at him with a heart heavy with sorrow, she felt her bottom lip begin to tremble for the second time that night. She didn't want to cry — not so soon after she had finally stopped — but yet, in spite of her best efforts, the universe seemed to be conspiring against her. She was so upset; so worried out of her mind that she just couldn't help it. In one moment she was standing there looking at him.

In the next she was crying into his chest.

"W-Why do they want me?" She sobbed, fingers curled into the waistband of his cargo shorts as her tears dripped down the hot skin of his bare chest. "What could they possibly want with me? I'm nothing!" She wailed, heart-wrenching wheezes escaping the narrow airway of her ever tightening throat. "I'm no one!"

"I don't know." He told her, face twisted as held her to him tightly. His head shook with despair. "I don't know."

"It's gonna be okay Bailey," Bella tried to console from just in front of the car. From her vantage point, she missed the way Paul's body froze at the sound of her voice, but as Edward stood right beside her, he heard the brewing thoughts in the Quileute boy's head as if he was shouting them clear as day. "It's all gonna be okay."