You looked me in the eye; and told me that you're not lying.
Chapter 3 up! This one is kinda fluffy but this is probably the only time I get to write fluffy- to be precise, this is the only chapter that is fluffy in this whole chapter fic. I had to slot in some fluffiness somewhere or it wouldn't had really worked out anyway. So here it goes, leave a kiss if you love it!
“Might as well let go, you can't take back what you've done, so find a new lifestyle, a new reason to smile.”-God is a DJ, Pink.
Once upon a time, a girl who held her middle finger in the air proudly met a boy. The boy was a sensitive creature, sometimes unintentionally stubborn, and really, the girl truly hated him. She hated him with every fiber of her being.
At this point of time, the girl telling the story would pause, and later continue, irony evident in her voice.
“Did I mention the part that she fell head over her damn sneakers for him?”
One and a half year later:
They fell into a routine somehow.
He has a job at a dingy garage up town; spending the days under cars, wiping his coarse fingers on dirty rags and using his wrenches to replace another hubcap or a tire. It’s monotonous, repetitive, but every single bill contributed to their rent.
The apartment was a three room affair, a nightmare for claustrophobics. Right across their apartment was a rather popular pub; and even at the dead of the night, you could hear the high pitched squeals of drunken girls and the clinking of beer glasses.
Leah wore a hairnet to work, and he often teased her about it. She slaved behind the counter, flipping pancakes that resembled cardboard and squirting whipped cream that tasted like synthetic crap. But hey, as she often pointed out, it brought back money for the rent.
It started out as a normal day that particular Thursday.
Jacob Black woke up to the smells of roasting coffee beans. Smiling to himself, he got out of bed, kicking off the tangled sheets as he pulled on a plain black shirt and Bermudas, his work attire a far cry from a business suit.
Bustling down to the kitchen, he feels his breath catch in his throat.
Leah Clearwater, roasting coffee beans in a loose shirt and her underwear, long black hair a tangled mess, her fingers slim and delicate as she threw three sugar cubes into her cup of coffee.
She has never looked so beautiful to him, and he wonders how it would feel for him to slip his arms around her tiny waist and just hold her. Some rational part of his brain immediately reminds him of Bella, a reflex whenever he thought of Leah in that way. But somehow, he was struggled to remember the colour of Bella’s eyes. They were brown, he thought through the cloud of fog, sort of like mud brown, he supposed.
“Hey, I have coffee.” She says, turning around to meet his eyes, -chlorine green and coal black molding for a minute- “Black, just the way you like it.” She adds, picking up a piece of bacon straight from the frying pan and plopping it into her mouth.
“Thanks.” He manages, his throat seemingly dry as he forced himself to sit, allowing the coffee to scald his tongue as punishment. He never really thought of Leah in that way before- but these few months; with just the two of them, sharing the same goddamn bed; well, could you blame him?
”Going for work now.” Jacob mumbles through gulps of his coffee as he cramps his feet into his tight sneakers, scrambling to make it through the door as he tried to force the image of them together out of his mind.
“Kay, bye.” She yells through a mouth full of bacon as he jabs the lift button, allowing himself to sigh in relief as the lift descends.
“What the hell.” He curses as he bangs his head against the concrete surface of the lift, the revelation startling him- but he knew; was unfortunately true.
Somewhere along the line, he had fallen in love with Leah Clearwater.
A few hours after that damned morning:
Jacob Black prided himself on being completely focused during his work hours. He prided himself on being able to fix every single car shoved to him in a matter of minutes; or if the problem was slightly more serious; hours.
And it was somewhere in between fixing the red Volvo and the lime green Beetle that she just had to come along.
“Hey.” She says, scooting beside him. “What the hell-“He cursed, an unfamiliar blush settling on his face, “Why are you here?” He sputtered, thinking about how stupid he must have looked then.
“I finished early today, and since it’s kind of boring at home, plus you’re taking nigh shift today, so it makes sense for me to come and visit.” She says nochantly, shrugging her bare shoulders.
“I’m working.” He mumbles incoherently through clenched teeth, and Leah’s confused expression proved that his speech sounded like gibberish to her.
He suppressed a loud groan. How was he supposed to tell her that he couldn’t concentrate; not with her around; not in this small, confined space; where he could feel her elbow brushing against his ribs; where he could see her tanned, bare shoulders due to that damned sun dress she was wearing.
“Never mind.” He grumbles as he storms out from under the car; feeling like a child throwing a tantrum all over again.
“Wait a second- Are you mad at me?”
He presses his lips together.
“Are you serious? Seriously?” A burst of laughter spills from her as she slaps her thigh and clutches her stomach, laughing like a child again.
“Don’t come to my damn workplace wearing that.” He growls, his temper getting the better of him as he flings his wrench back into his toolbox and slams it shut with a note of finality.
“Hey,” She crouches over to where he’s seated, fingers trembling to lock his toolbox properly, “Are you okay?” She’s talking in that soft voice again, and he feels his resistance slipping as he meets her chlorine green eyes; they shimmered, like waves lapping against the rim of a swimming pool.
He tucks a loose lock of hair behind her ears; and he hears her catch her breath. With trembling, fumbling, fingers, he takes her small face in his hands and slots his lips against hers.
He expects resistance, or maybe some sort of a protest, but the only thing she does is press her palms against his chest as the kiss deepens, and somewhere at the back of his mind, he tries valiantly to remember the colour of Bella’s hair.
He comes up with nothing.
“Might as well let go, you can't take back what you've done, so find a new lifestyle, a new reason to smile.”-God is a DJ, Pink.
Once upon a time, a girl who held her middle finger in the air proudly met a boy. The boy was a sensitive creature, sometimes unintentionally stubborn, and really, the girl truly hated him. She hated him with every fiber of her being.
At this point of time, the girl telling the story would pause, and later continue, irony evident in her voice.
“Did I mention the part that she fell head over her damn sneakers for him?”
One and a half year later:
They fell into a routine somehow.
He has a job at a dingy garage up town; spending the days under cars, wiping his coarse fingers on dirty rags and using his wrenches to replace another hubcap or a tire. It’s monotonous, repetitive, but every single bill contributed to their rent.
The apartment was a three room affair, a nightmare for claustrophobics. Right across their apartment was a rather popular pub; and even at the dead of the night, you could hear the high pitched squeals of drunken girls and the clinking of beer glasses.
Leah wore a hairnet to work, and he often teased her about it. She slaved behind the counter, flipping pancakes that resembled cardboard and squirting whipped cream that tasted like synthetic crap. But hey, as she often pointed out, it brought back money for the rent.
It started out as a normal day that particular Thursday.
Jacob Black woke up to the smells of roasting coffee beans. Smiling to himself, he got out of bed, kicking off the tangled sheets as he pulled on a plain black shirt and Bermudas, his work attire a far cry from a business suit.
Bustling down to the kitchen, he feels his breath catch in his throat.
Leah Clearwater, roasting coffee beans in a loose shirt and her underwear, long black hair a tangled mess, her fingers slim and delicate as she threw three sugar cubes into her cup of coffee.
She has never looked so beautiful to him, and he wonders how it would feel for him to slip his arms around her tiny waist and just hold her. Some rational part of his brain immediately reminds him of Bella, a reflex whenever he thought of Leah in that way. But somehow, he was struggled to remember the colour of Bella’s eyes. They were brown, he thought through the cloud of fog, sort of like mud brown, he supposed.
“Hey, I have coffee.” She says, turning around to meet his eyes, -chlorine green and coal black molding for a minute- “Black, just the way you like it.” She adds, picking up a piece of bacon straight from the frying pan and plopping it into her mouth.
“Thanks.” He manages, his throat seemingly dry as he forced himself to sit, allowing the coffee to scald his tongue as punishment. He never really thought of Leah in that way before- but these few months; with just the two of them, sharing the same goddamn bed; well, could you blame him?
”Going for work now.” Jacob mumbles through gulps of his coffee as he cramps his feet into his tight sneakers, scrambling to make it through the door as he tried to force the image of them together out of his mind.
“Kay, bye.” She yells through a mouth full of bacon as he jabs the lift button, allowing himself to sigh in relief as the lift descends.
“What the hell.” He curses as he bangs his head against the concrete surface of the lift, the revelation startling him- but he knew; was unfortunately true.
Somewhere along the line, he had fallen in love with Leah Clearwater.
A few hours after that damned morning:
Jacob Black prided himself on being completely focused during his work hours. He prided himself on being able to fix every single car shoved to him in a matter of minutes; or if the problem was slightly more serious; hours.
And it was somewhere in between fixing the red Volvo and the lime green Beetle that she just had to come along.
“Hey.” She says, scooting beside him. “What the hell-“He cursed, an unfamiliar blush settling on his face, “Why are you here?” He sputtered, thinking about how stupid he must have looked then.
“I finished early today, and since it’s kind of boring at home, plus you’re taking nigh shift today, so it makes sense for me to come and visit.” She says nochantly, shrugging her bare shoulders.
“I’m working.” He mumbles incoherently through clenched teeth, and Leah’s confused expression proved that his speech sounded like gibberish to her.
He suppressed a loud groan. How was he supposed to tell her that he couldn’t concentrate; not with her around; not in this small, confined space; where he could feel her elbow brushing against his ribs; where he could see her tanned, bare shoulders due to that damned sun dress she was wearing.
“Never mind.” He grumbles as he storms out from under the car; feeling like a child throwing a tantrum all over again.
“Wait a second- Are you mad at me?”
He presses his lips together.
“Are you serious? Seriously?” A burst of laughter spills from her as she slaps her thigh and clutches her stomach, laughing like a child again.
“Don’t come to my damn workplace wearing that.” He growls, his temper getting the better of him as he flings his wrench back into his toolbox and slams it shut with a note of finality.
“Hey,” She crouches over to where he’s seated, fingers trembling to lock his toolbox properly, “Are you okay?” She’s talking in that soft voice again, and he feels his resistance slipping as he meets her chlorine green eyes; they shimmered, like waves lapping against the rim of a swimming pool.
He tucks a loose lock of hair behind her ears; and he hears her catch her breath. With trembling, fumbling, fingers, he takes her small face in his hands and slots his lips against hers.
He expects resistance, or maybe some sort of a protest, but the only thing she does is press her palms against his chest as the kiss deepens, and somewhere at the back of his mind, he tries valiantly to remember the colour of Bella’s hair.
He comes up with nothing.