𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍
— 𝓌𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 —

𝐏𝐀𝐔𝐋 𝐋𝐀𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒 that fate, in the kindest of terms, is a bitch. His stiff figure lies alongside the silhouette of his imprint as they stare at the blue sky that swirls with fluffy clouds, creating a mirage that radiates with the illusion that the world is lenient. But if one looks beyond the false insistence, they can find that the shapeshifter is more true than he knows, because fate enjoys its sweet little instances of deceit. And at this moment, his destiny is unfolding with the torture he knew would one day haunt him. If only he had continued ignoring Serenity's existence, maybe she would have lived the rest of her life safely. Could this be his fault? Perhaps karma was finally reaching the boy, due to his years of inflicting pain upon others because of his own bubbling anger.

For now, these seconds of silence are all that they have: the calm before the storm. The following morning, Paul will be faced with a coven of newborn vampires that have vile intentions, following a fiery-haired bloodsucker in search of Isabella Swan. But while he is away, Serenity will have no distractions from their troubled reality. How could he save the girl from her own thoughts? The truth, although brutal, was simple . . . he couldn't.

"How will I tell Marina and Laythe?" Serenity attempts to hide the fear that dwindles within her tone, but her imprint recognizes it all too easily. "I don't know how I will live with myself if I hurt them, they have been through far too much already."

Paul Lahote's throat burns with bitterness, how could she possibly think about them while she is the one undergoing pain? "And so have you," his features soften as his sienna eyes find her pale countenance, "they will understand. This isn't your fault, don't let the weight fall on your shoulders."

Despite his calming words and good intentions, the Reagan girl can not deny her own feelings: guilt. If only she had spoken up earlier, her condition wouldn't have progressed so quickly. "Everything was falling into place," her gentle words seem as though they might shatter at any moment, taking her fragile heart along with them. "I was foolish to let my guard down."

If she were to voice her thoughts aloud, she was sure Paul would be unable to handle them. Serenity Reagan still waits every sleepless night for her parents to say goodbye, just one last time. Her chest hurts with every burning second at the loss of her family; she sees them everywhere and looks for them in everything. She is falling apart at the seams of her own stitching, bursting from the soft cushion of diversions that temporarily avert her attention. The perfect destruction is finally tearing her apart, demanding that she look at the problematic world she has hidden from for months. Her mother and father were never coming back, the moon could not speak, and hope for her future was pointless -- how could her imagination provide her with such soft lies, killing her slowly?

Paul pulls her body to his, embracing his soulmate and weaving his fingers through her smooth hair. "I will be there every step of the way. There has to be a way out of this, and I promise we'll find it. This is just the beginning, my sweet girl, and there is so much more waiting for us." He tries to ignore the searing heat that makes his heart melt so painfully.

But he doesn't cry . . . because he's sure if Serenity finds his tears, that she, too, will fear that there is nothing more they can do.

Their enclasp ends all too soon, however, when Serenity decides that she can no longer contain the secrets that claw at her skin, begging to be released. Though her breath is wavering as she tugs her frail body away from Paul's, her voice tries to convince the nature around them that she has yet to break. "We should go back. I need to tell my family before my symptoms grow worse. And perhaps there is still hope for me, Paul Lahote -- don't frown while there is so much to hope for."

Her gentle words are enough to soothe his frantic nerves as he rises to his feet with a curt nod. "I'm not sure how I'll be able to leave when we get back, sweetheart." As he lifts the girl into his grasp, his hand finds the spot in which the hem of her shirt has risen once again. There, his warm fingers massage her exposed skin and a smirk tugs at his sculpted lips. "You know, you could leave the balcony doors open tonight and I could pay a visit--"

"Paul," she scolds, her cheeks staining a candy apple red from his suggestion.

"I was joking," Paul chuckles, biting his lip as he glances down at her, "partially. Have I mentioned that you look beautiful?"

She can imagine running away with him, finding a cottage in the middle of an abandoned forest and calling it their home until the world pulls her back to reality. Would she be able to ignore the looming condition that threatens her life? Yes, Serenity Reagan is more sure of this than anything else -- the rest can fall away, if only for a moment, as her last bit of time is spent being held by him. He can give her forever . . . even if her forever is cut far too short.

Paul, too, can imagine their future: Serenity ascending a petal-covered aisle, adorned in a white lace that only accentuates her beauty, and a veil draped along her features. They can find infinity together, wherever it resides, and keep it for themselves because his imprint deserves much more than just an infinite life. And so he will love her, far longer than forever.

Is that this emotion he is feeling? Love? Could he already be falling into her, without ever noticing? Maybe loving Serenity Reagan is more effortless than he could have dreamed, all because she wears her golden heart upon her sleeve. And if his thoughts are true, Paul can easily confirm that being in love with this girl is the best thing that could ever happen to him.

"You are far too charming," she finally responds as they reach the Reagan property. But how could they have arrived so quickly? It felt like only moments ago, the boy was carrying her away from the cliff view that she couldn't quite remember. As her hazel eyes fall upon her cousin's approaching figure, her limbs go numb with anticipation.

Laythe grins at the unofficial couple, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his old cargo shorts. "I hope the two of you had fun, but not too much--"

"I have something to tell you."

Despite the fact that Serenity needs to be alone with her cousin and aunt while revealing her deepest secret, she frets the moment in which Paul Lahote leaves her behind . . . because now, after facing the truth, she is unsure if she will remember him again.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

The sofa seems uncomfortable when the blonde girl sinks into its cream-colored cushions, and the ambience of the parlor is more dim than it had been only minutes ago. The hesitance that radiates from Serenity Reagan affects the atmosphere of their chalet, bringing it into a dormant state of gloom and dread. The way in which Marina looks to her only makes her throat sore, and she loses her words within a sharp intake of breath.

"I haven't been completely honest with you lately, and I'm beyond sorry for that." Serenity's palms grow damp with sweat, and her fingers begin to shake. And when Marina notices her niece's slight posture shift, her lips part in expectancy.

"We all have our secrets," Marina leans forward, placing a careful hand upon Serenity's knee, "so don't be afraid to finally let those burdens fall from your chest, dear." Laythe, frozen in place, can not shake the fear that embraces his heart with a cold, demanding grip.

The girl grasps Marina's hand as if her life depends on it, blinking through tears that might not cease once they begin to fall. "I'm starting to forget things, even though it started out small . . . I misplaced objects in the beginning, but it turned to migraines and not recognizing my surroundings . . . since the accident, my memories have been fading quicker than before. At the drive-in theater with Paul, I realized the severity of it all," she covers her mouth to contain a choked sob, "how long do I have until everything is gone? Until I look at the two of you, and all I see are strangers staring back at me?"

Though her pause is short, it builds up to her final words that make Laythe Reagan storm from the home in anger, tearing the cotton shirt from his chest as he disappears into the forest.

"How long do I have until it wins . . . and takes me with it?"

On the day in which Marina Reagan lost the love of her life, she hoped that for the sake of her own heart, she would never again feel the type of pain that burned her alive each and every day thereafter. But now, with a crying teenager in her grasp that fears her time on earth is nearly up, the woman finds it again -- the relentless hurt, the stinging that pulsates throughout her chest. How could she survive the additional grief? How could she live without her?

Serenity, the daughter she wished for.

And while Marina blindly grasps for any strand of hope through the seemingly dark room around them, Serenity visualizes the future she will not receive; one that thrives on laughter and love, that has no sorrow or mourning. A life that provides her with endless sunlight, one that begins as a fairytale, and ends as such. An open field of wildflowers just beyond a balustrade guarded with vines, all leading to a villa that protects those who thrive near it. If magic truly existed, perhaps she could hold this possibility in the palm of her hands, and choose for herself . . . would she change her fate if she had the opporunity?

No -- because as her mother would remind her, everything takes place for a reason. The earth provides a balance: for every bad occassion, a better one arises somewhere around the world. In this moment, somewhere she can not see, someone is living their life happily -- with a child, maybe, on a ranch with rolling hills that overlook pastures and a southern wrap-around porch that entertains their small family under the evening sky. That person, wrapped within the arms of their lover, smiling as a gentle breeze caresses their face, has all the time in the world.

Serenity Reagan envies that person.

Although the moon is not yet in sight, the girl can feel its presence when a familiar russett-skinned boy steps into the parlor, regretting that he ever left her behind in the first place. Though she needed privacy with her family, Paul Lahote could clearly see that his imprint was hurting beyond comparison. This time, Paul thinks as he hears the girl's quiet sobs, he will not let her go . . . not when this time could be the last.

But when he finds the eyes of Marina Reagan, he understands that he is needed elsewhere.

As Laythe shifts back to his aching skin as he reaches, he tosses his cargo shorts to the rotting soil below his bare feet. The rocks overlooking La Push Beach are jagged, and slice away at the flesh of his heels -- if he thinks hard enough, the affliction is better than feeling the emptiness that had rested there before. The eternal pit of nothing that began unfolding only minutes ago, the absolute oblivion that replaced every emotion he had ever felt. With a tense jaw, he grinds his teeth and backs away to place a firm hand upon the nearest tree. His fingernails dig deep into the bark as he shoves the pain away, the fear of the unknown.

"I can't do this," he murmurs under his breath. "I can't fucking do this." Using every ounce of force in his body, he pulls the tree from its grounded rooting, and slams it down with a strength that shakes the earth. Laythe runs his dirty hands through his hair, and yells until his lungs begin to burn in desperation.

"Hey," Paul is behind him now, a gentle hand falling onto the shoulder of his brother, "I know, Laythe. I know." He will hold it together now, if only for the well-being of his friend -- the Lahote boy, too, could tear the earth apart for what it has done to his imprint.

"It isn't fair," he cries, his voice trembling with each new word, "she deserves so much more than just this."

They stay there, embraced by the warm arms of silence, even after the sun finally sets beyond the horizon. The following day would come soon, but neither shapeshifter would acknowledge the small provocation; did any of this matter anymore?

But there are far more truths in the world, further than that of life's meaning. A self-evident concept such as time does not consider individuals as it continues -- they are only moments, seconds, and fragments in the story of everything. And though time will surely not remember the name of Serenity Reagan or what she makes of herself as it resumes the way it has for generations, those around her will never forget something as important as the life she has been living. Because as much as Paul Lahote hates to admit it, she only has so much time.

But time, at least in his eyes, time will have no choice but to remember her.

Serenity Reagan saved Paul Lahote: a task that even the moon herself believed was impossible, until a petite blonde made the Quileute Reservation her home and changed the lives of everyone who lived there.

❝ the next chapter will be the last for
book one. i'm beyond excited for book two
(which will still be in this book) and
what comes next in the story :) ❞