𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍
— 𝒷𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓀 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉 —

     𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑 bubblegum-pink pencil skirt to appear presentable to her new friends; she looked stunning, as Embry relayed to her, but the blonde was entranced by a butterfly that laid upon a potted, dying blossom on the rotting balustrade of Emily Young's save haven. Though it was delicate, unknowing that it was the only remaining monarch in the winter season, her fingertips ached to touch it — perhaps it had stayed here, waiting for her. But she refuses her instincts, focusing only on the rotting wood that sways beneath her feet and Embry's hand that holds hers so gently, radiating with warmth and ensuring her steps. Behind her, Jacob clutches a platter of the cookies she had baked, sharing an emotion-filled glance with Laythe as the two decided a positive environment was the very thing the girl needed . . . and though they knew not of what the future held for Paul's behavior or his remote intentions, Serenity would never lose the three around her. And perhaps they, along with their requited love, would be enough to save her from the chaos that would inevitably come.

Embry admires her as she fondly observes the butterfly, but interrupts her thoughts when speaking softly. "Are you ready?" He would have mentioned Emily's scars — or how it irritated Sam to no end when an individual dared to gaze too long — but the boy knew that the blonde didn't need that information. She commended each and every soul she had met, and Emily Young would be no exception.

"I am a bit worried," Serenity grips his hand a little tighter, swaying in her position. "What if they don't like me?"

A frown graces Embry's lips as he ponders the thought; how could any being, no matter the circumstances, show feelings of antipathy towards such a kind girl? She was the sunlight to him, and he could imagine no one who would believe the opposite. "There isn't a person on this planet that has the ability to deny you," he assures her, his tone firm with certainty. "I have no doubt that they will love you as much as we do."

She smiled then, because Embry would never lie to her — so the moment when the door ahead of her opened, she no longer feared what the strangers would think of her. There was a charm that Serenity held within the palms of her soft hands, and she was entirely unaware to that fact alone. It made the blonde even more desirable to those that cherished her, but the boys around her were ambivalent of what the upcoming days would hold for Serenity if Paul were to imprint.

Emily Young's curious brown eyes settle on Serenity's slight frame, just before a knowing grin settles upon her glowing features. "I've waited such a long time to finally meet you," her voice is light, and fills the silent atmosphere with gentle anticipation. "You are a sight for sore eyes, Serenity Reagan."

Serenity's cheeks tinge a light shade of pink at the compliment, and she releases Embry's hand to pull Emily into an embrace. The russet-skinned girl is taken aback for a brief second, before she chuckles, wrapping her own arms around her new companion. "I haven't had a female friend since I came to the Reservation," the younger girl explains as she distances herself from Emily. "So excuse me for my actions."

Emily smelled like honey; of a long summer day in an orchard, surrounded by nature and its incessant beauty. Her raven hair falls past her shoulders and rests lightly against her chest, freckles highlight the apples of her cheeks. Three aging scars — almost like jagged claw indentations — disfigure the right side of her features, but don't subtract from her formidable and compelling beauty. Her aura emits affection, as if she blatantly espouses the girl without having to know the ways of her commiseration. Emily, much like Serenity, wears her longing heart on her sleeve for all of the world to adore. Looking between the two of them, Laythe nearly smiles at their apodeictic similarities, all the while establishing that the two of them would grow closer than he originally presumed.

"Come inside," Emily insists, gesturing to the vacant, dimly lit kitchen behind her. "Make yourself at home, the others should be back soon." In light of their absence, she had taken to the comforts of baking chocolate chip muffins and reading a novel in intervals. The vast space surrounding her seemed empty without the echoing voices of the shapeshifters that called themselves brothers, and she was nearly relieved to find that three of them, along with Serenity, had come to accompany her in the time of formidable stillness.

The cottage is warm, and Serenity realizes that it isn't due to the heat dispersing from the oven as Emily removes a batch of muffins. The cream walls are decorated with framed photographs of smiling teenagers, the scent of a burning vanilla candle lingering in the air. The surrounding ambience was relaxing as Embry leads her to a broad table, lowering her onto one of the many discrepant seats that border a cedar-carved table. Jacob places the dish of Serenity's cookies on the surface in front of her, and the girl removes the foil that hides them. "I made cookies this morning," Serenity informs the other girl, "and thought that maybe you and your friends would like to try them too. Aunt Marina doesn't digest gluten easily, and there is no way Laythe and I could eat them all."

Laythe pauses as he chews on a cookie that he had snatched, shaking his head at his cousin's denial. "I could singlehandedly devour all of these in a sitting," he informs Serenity.

"Just because you can doesn't mean you should," Jacob corrects him, taking a cookie of his own. "Save some for the rest of us, who are less fortunate."

Serenity giggles at their antics, gaging Emily's reaction as she, too, bites into one. "These are amazing!" She seems stunned by the ameliorated recipe, and the Reagan girl is pleased with her ability to recreate the very treat that her mother was renowned for. "I bake often, but I've never managed to perfect the ingredients."

"You can have a copy of the recipe," Serenity offers, delighted from the hums of satisfaction that they had all presented after tasting the sweet. "My mother used to make them for our neighbors on any special occasion, and I like to think she could've opened a bakery from her abilities."

As Emily prepares to thank Serenity for her kind proposal, her words are interrupted by the sudden voices of her fiancé and his companions. Embry consciously places his hand on Serenity's shoulder as they enter his line of vision — Paul shoves Jared Cameron with a laugh, oblivious to the fact that Emily has company and he will soon have to face them. Serenity stares at the shirtless Quileute boys with interest, finding the unnatural resemblance between them captivating. They share the same skin tone, bear the same tribal ink on their bicep, and their features hold the same mischievous glint as the three others by her side. But one is more conspicuous than the others, she realizes, as they barrel past the screen door and expectantly find her waiting glance. He is taller than the majority, and Serenity's countenance blushes with intimidation from the masculinity that his aura divaricates. The home's emanation changes in the moment that his eyes unintentionally meet hers; and slowly, but surely, Serenity no longer finds herself sinking into the cushion beneath her, nor does she notice Laythe's concerned gaze.

His heart nearly stopped beating in his chest in the second that his barren, chocolate eyes found her green ones. Time froze every surrounding thing, only letting up in the solitary moment that he realized what it meant. She was his soulmate, although he wanted nothing less. Perhaps it was the wind, Paul thought — or the beautiful sun that rested just beyond the horizon, and blushed the clouds with pastel colors of pink and orange that made everything else seem so vibrant. Or maybe it was her beach-wave hair that fell to her shoulders like effervescent rays of sunlight. Maybe it was her naturally flushed cheeks, or the freckles that dotted her button nose, or her eyes . . . her passionate, captivating eyes. They were emeralds crafted by the gentlest of hands, sparkling in the fluorescence of a morning sun like a fresh sheen of dew.  They were a cyan meadow filled with promising buds, or a forest of thistles at sunset. Within the earthy hues of her eyes lied her soul, with the kind of beauty that expanded a moment into a personal eternity, and a never-ending piece of heaven he wanted so desperately to be a part of. They reminded him of the green leaves on the trees at twilight that he loved to gaze upon, a delicate icing like that of his traditional sugar cookies, or the color of the soft spices that his mother once baked with. They practically begged him to get lost in them.

And he would have.

He would have stood in that very spot forever, admiring her ivory skin, or the way in which honey dripped from her sweet lips as she spoke. Or her flawless silhouette, which was adorned with a charming outfit that complimented her diminutive figure. But he had known that this very day was coming; the one in which he would imprint, only to realize that he would ruin her. He couldn't face the girl that had his heart in the palm of her hand, in the fear that he would break hers. And so he tore his eyes from hers, turned away from his family, and retired to the edge of the forest.

Serenity was confounded by the burning in her chest as the boy left the cottage, unsure of the cause. Although her every instinct urges otherwise, she remains in her seat, and smiles to the others before introducing herself. "I'm Serenity, it's nice to meet all of you."

She recognizes the eldest as he stares at the retreating figure of his brother, then averts his attention to the girl. "Sam Uley," he replies, placing an arm around Emily. "Laythe speaks of you often."

"Jared," another comments, holding out his hand for her to embrace. "The the dorks behind me are Quil and Seth, the least interesting of our acquaintances."

The two younger boys jump to their own offense, earning a giggle from Serenity as she looks back to Embry. "They're quite charming." But her eyes wander to the wooded area outside, and she searches for the boy who had left without an introduction.

"That was Paul," Embry tells her, a slight frown tugging at the ends of his lips. "Maybe you should go talk to him."

Laythe trembles on the opposite side of the table, breathing deeply as Sam narrows his eyes in warning. He was only moments away from exposing their secret, due to his worst fear becoming a reality — Paul had imprinted on the fragile girl that he considered a sister, which would inevitably ensure her doomed fate. Jacob mumbles to him in an attempt to settle his nerves, just as Serenity agrees with Embry's previous suggestion. "I will," she nods, standing from her seat. "I won't be long, so don't eat all of the cookies."

Embry laughs, despite his worry for Laythe's composure. "I refuse to make any promises."

Serenity makes her way outside, admiring the sunset as she limps to the clearing in which the boy had settled. Paul stiffens at the sounds of her muffled footsteps, his hands shaking as he lies them on the dark, dying tree beside him. She leaves a small distance between them as she chews her bottom lip, in an attempt to spare his privacy. "I'm Serenity," her voice is faint as she gazes longingly at his profile.

Paul's jaw clenches, and no response falls from his tight lips. He ignores the expression of melancholy that briefly falls over her features from deliberate disregard. Though his heart aches for her, he disdains any yearning emotion for her.

"I baked cookies," Serenity hesitates at her own endeavor, her voice restraining with each new words. "I'd love it if you would try one — my mother actually perfected the recipe, and—"

Paul's hardening eyes fall onto her own as he towers over the petite girl, clearly fueled with distaste. Serenity shrinks under his punitive glare, wrapping her arms around her waist as she takes a step away from him. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like some privacy," he practically growls, earning a wince from his frightened imprint. As the sky slowly fades with darkness, his inflamed features are more defined than they were in the daylight.

Her bottom lip trembles as she stutters, stumbling back to allow his valued space. "I — I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you, I just thought that maybe you'd want some company—"

He raises his eyebrows with a chuckle that holds no amusement, and points back to the cottage, "I don't care what they told you, I'm not interested. This—" he gestures to the nature around them, "means nothing to me. Fate made a damn mistake, because I know that I'd rather live a life of loneliness that spend an eternity with you."

His anger terrifies her, and she flinches from the sting his words inflict. Though Serenity is unsure of the meaning behind them, she can't help but rest her shoulder against a close tree as he disappears into the forest.

And for the first time, she realizes that she doesn't want to venture into to woods for whatever awaits her. She sniffles, and desperately wipes at her face as tears fall from her watering eyes. Paul frets as he trudges through the dark, knowing that he would never forget this moment; seeing the fear blossoming in her eyes, her figure cowering from the one she was destined for . . . but he would rather endure her hatred than break that pretty little heart of hers.

As Serenity sinks to the soil below and ruins her bubblegum skirt, Paul can hear her pained sobs, and wishes so desperately to turn around and assure her that he didn't mean the hurtful things he had said.

And, like the girl that the moon adored, the clouds, too, began to cry.

❝ i love this chapter, hands-down ❞