"SORT OF BEAUTIFUL CHALLENGE" Entry

Between Hate & Love

CurtainEater

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DISCLAIMER: Twilight characters and related likeness owned by Stephenie Meyer, Little Brown Publishing. No profits have been received in the production of this piece.

"LEAH!"

I ignore the shout as it echoes through the woods behind me. I can hear Jacob sprinting to catch up, and I pick up my pace. Tears blur my vision, but I refuse to let that slow me down.

"Leah, stop!"

Jake's voice is commanding and furious. I can't obey it, though. He'll just have to catch me if he wants to discuss what just transpired, the lies I just told, the hurt I just caused him. My heart surges in my chest. How could I have said it?

I tear through the trees with absolute abandon. Branches whip across my cheeks; I stumble blindly over roots and fallen limbs; there's blood on my arm where I scraped it against a tree. I'm a mess. A broken, sobbing mess. This is just one more reason to stay away from him.

His voice has faded into the distance, but I don't stop. I'm foolish enough to believe, for a few freeing minutes, that he doesn't have any idea where I'm headed. And then I burst free of the trees, gasping, tears rolling down my face—and there he is, standing with his arms crossed over his bare chest (why does he have to be half-naked all the time?) as though he's been waiting for me for hours.

I could slap myself. He must have taken the shortcut; that's why his voice disappeared in the woods. I might be faster than him, but he knows these woods better than anyone else in La Push.

And he knows me better.

I consider running again. The thought has only just crossed my mind, but he already knows what I'm thinking. In two furious steps he's in front of me. He grabs me roughly by my upper arm and yanks me into to the tiny abandoned cabin we used to play in. Once I am over the threshold and the door is slammed shut he releases me, and I stumble into the wall. Before I can catch my breath, he's shouting.

"What the fuck is your problem, Leah? You chew me out for god knows what, avoid me for weeks, and then you go and act like I'm the one who's out of line?!"

I cling to the wall like it's my lifeline, hating myself for being so weak, so afraid of him and of the anger that I provoked. I know he's hurt more than anything, and it makes my chest ache to think that I caused him pain.

"Jake, please…" I whisper against the wall.

"Please what, Leah?" he yells. "Please stop shouting? Please leave you alone? Please don't be angry? Well, fuck all of that! I'm not leaving this goddamn room until you 'fess up and tell me what the hell is going on with you!"

More tears slip from my eyes, and I choke back a sob.

"I didn't mean it, Jake," I whisper.

He is so silent for a moment I wonder if he's even breathing.

"You meant it," he finally says, his voice hard.

"No!" I gasp, twisting around automatically. "No, Jake, no, I didn't, I swear I didn't! I don't hate you! I was just angry, they were just stupid words! I couldn't ever hate you!"

"They weren't just words, Leah!" he snarls, taking a step forward and greatly diminishing the distance that separates us. "It wasn't just something you said!"

"Yes, it was! I didn't—"

"No, it wasn't!" Jake shouts. "It was in your eyes, Leah, glaring back at me. You didn't even need to say the words, you could have just looked at me and I would have seen it!"

I immediately open my mouth to negate this, but I'm lost for words. Because he's right. I really had meant it. At that time, in that moment back in the woods, I had truly hated Jacob Black.

"So tell me, Leah, tell me what the fuck I did to make you hate me so goddamn much!"

But I am floored. I don't know what to do, what to say. Because I don't hate him. I love him. But how do I explain the thin line between hate and love? My mouth hangs open uselessly as I stare up into his fiery eyes. If I told him, everything would be over. Our friendship, our seemingly unbreakable bond that had existed since we were two. I can't give that up. Even if I can't have him in the way I wish I could, I still need him as my best friend.

"I'm sorry, Jacob," I whisper. More tears gather in my eyes, and I blink them away. "I'm so sorry."

"Sorry's not fucking good enough, Leah!" he snaps. "Not this time."

He turns away from me and makes for the door.

"Jake, please!" I beg, catching his wrist before he can go. "Please, tell me what you want!"

He rips his hand from my grip and spins back around, his face so furious I'm staggered.

"God damn it, Leah!" And his hands slam into the wall on either side of my head, trapping me. "You know what I want!"

I'm shaking now, tears slipping freely down my face.

"I—I don't know—"

"I want you!" he explodes, cutting me off. "I've always wanted you!"

They were the words I'd been waiting to hear my whole life, the ones I'd imagined him saying so many times in so many different ways, the ones I'd forced myself to believe he would never utter. And now they hang in the air between us, fresh off of his lips, begging to be heard.

And all I can think about is getting the hell out of that room.

"I have to go," I say faintly, but the words are barely out of my mouth when his hands curl around my arms, holding me firmly in place.

"You're not leaving until you hear me out."

"Jacob—"

"No! You've been running away from me for the past three weeks, and I'm done trying to catch you!" he says heatedly. As if to reinforce this statement, his hands tighten around my arms and I can feel the wall digging into my back as he pushes me against it.

I hesitate and then nod once, but I don't relax my muscles, still tensed to run.

"I hate this, Leah," he says. His voice is calm now, but there's an undercurrent of his previous fury still wavering through. "I hate that I have to force you to listen to me, to talk to me. I hate that you haven't even glanced at me once in the past few weeks."

I don't tell him this is a lie, that I'm watching him every second that he's near. Except for right now.

"Leah," he whispers my name. His hands slide slowly up my arms, over my shoulders, my neck…he cups my face, angling it up towards his. "Look at me."

I can't do it.

"Look at me," he nearly growls, and a shiver I can't explain runs down my spine.

I raise my eyes, wet with tears, and look into his hard, fiery ones.

"How do I undo whatever it is I did to you?" he asks. "How do I make things right again?"

I can't understand how we arrived at this place. Everything is suddenly backwards. Why is he asking me what he did wrong when I'm the one who's screwed everything up? How could the tables have turned so quickly?

"Jacob, I can't do this—"

I try to turn away from him, duck under his arm, but he's too strong for me. He pulls me back brusquely, and shoves me against the wall again; his hands return to either side of my neck, cupping my face tightly and forcing me to meet his blazing eyes. When he speaks, his voice is rough with emotion and each word seems to take a great deal out of him.

"Stop. Running. Away. From. Me."

And then his mouth is on mine, and he's kissing me like I've never been kissed in my life—passionately, urgently, almost violently. Fire courses through my veins, heating my skin where he touches it. I can't think; he's all there is, and I find myself moving my lips hard against his, my fingers entangled in the messy locks of his hair.

His hands are everywhere; in my hair, on my face, my sides, my hips, my back, recklessly touching every part of me they can, almost as if making sure I am all there. My back hits the wall again, and my body is pressed up against his so fully I can feel the muscles in his stomach tighten as I wrap my legs around his waist. He pushes his body against mine, hard, and I break away, gasping.

"Tell me to stop," he growls into my mouth. I shake my head, my face brushing against his.

"Don't stop," I pant, and he kisses me hungrily again. My lips burn when he slides his mouth away and trails kisses across my jaw, down my neck, over my shoulder. He pushes me harder against the wall, and I tilt my head back as his lips wander feverishly across my collarbone, up my throat and over my chin until he catches my mouth against his once more.

His hands slip beneath the hem of my shirt, and I tighten my legs around him as his fingers explore the bare, heated skin of my stomach, my back, my ribs—

"Jake!"

The voice floats in from outside, and we freeze, Jacob's hands warm against my skin and our lips still pressed firmly together.

"Leah!"

If I had a voice I would shriek at the proximity of Seth's shout. As it is, I can hardly breathe, let alone make a sound. Jake groans and his head falls down onto my shoulder as if in defeat. I struggle frantically against him, pushing on his shoulders, trying to free myself from our revealing embrace.

"Jake? Leah! C'mon, you two!" Seth's footsteps draw closer.

"Jake, please," I plead, my voice barely a whisper.

Jacob raises his head, meets my hysterical eyes with an unreadable expression and finally allows me to remove my legs from around his waist. My back slides a few inches down the wall, and my feet hit the floor; I stumble a little, but Jake steadies me, his eyes still glued to my face.

"Jacob!" Seth shouts. "Where the hell are you?" he grumbles.

My hands shake fiercely as I attempt to make myself look decent. When had Jake unbuttoned half of my shirt? Is my hair as noticeably haggard as his?

"Leah…" he murmurs; I can't look at him. "Leah, calm down."

His hands grip mine, pulling them away from my shirt before I can accidentally rip a button off. He finishes doing the rest of them up with ease. Before I can even begin to fix my hair, he's combing his fingers through it for me, rearranging it back to the way it had been before. How can he be so calm?

"Leah? Jake?"

The door to the cabin cracks open and Seth peeks his head in, looking around. I immediately duck out from beneath Jacob's hands and shuffle as far away from him as the tiny space will allow.

"There you are!" Seth sounds relieved, and he opens the door wider, stepping inside. I can't meet his eyes for fear that he'll see the image of what just transpired glistening in mine.

"Seth, what are you doing here?" Jacob asks, a little more harshly than is entirely necessary.

"Looking for Leah," Seth says reproachfully. He addresses me now. "You seemed really upset, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Seth," I say, but my voice is hoarse and I'm sure the leaves and twigs stuck in my hair don't do anything to help my case. "You need to go home, it's getting late."

Seth's eyes fall to my arm, and I remember the cut that I got earlier. Then he looks at Jacob.

"Did you hurt her?" His voice only quavers a little bit.

Jake's eyes widen.

"Excuse me?"

"Seth, don't be ridiculous, he didn't hurt me," I say.

"I'm not being ridiculous," Seth says defiantly. "I saw how angry he was back in the woods before you both took off."

"Look here, Seth—"

"Jake, don't," I say, not meeting his eyes. "Seth, go home. I'll meet you there."

But Seth ignores me and glances over Jacob's disheveled form again; his eyes narrow into suspicious slits.

"What were you two doing anyways?" he asks, looking back and forth between us.

"Snogging like nobody's business until you so rudely interrupted," Jake says coldly before I can reply.

Seth's jaw drops. I'm quite sure my own expression mirrors his.

"Jacob!" I hiss.

"You're welcome to stick around and watch the rest of the show if you like, kid," he continues without hesitation. "I dunno if you'd much like watching your big sis get groped, though."

Seth's eyes widen in shock, and he opens and closes his mouth, clearly at a loss for words. I shut my eyes tightly and pinch the bridge of my nose, an anxious reaction. I can't bear looking at the expression on my little brother's face right now.

"Seth, go home!" I say through clenched teeth. "Right now."

Apparently he doesn't need to be told again because I hear the sounds of stumbling feet and a door scraping shut. When I open my eyes finally, he's gone and I'm once again left alone with a moody—still shirtless—Jacob Black. I turn on him, too furious to even think about being embarrassed.

"What the fuck was that?" I grind out.

Jacob's face seems melded into a permanent glare now.

"He didn't even knock," he says childishly.

"Oh, for Christ's sake!" I burst out. "He was looking for me, he was worried about me!"

"You're seventeen years old, Leah, you can take care of yourself."

"He's my brother!" I shout. "You don't say things like that to my brother!"

"He'll survive."

My only response to this is to scream in frustration and storm out of the cabin into the fading daylight. The sun, although low in the sky, still burns my eyes after the darkness of the cabin, but I ignore the pain and push through the trees.

"God damn it, Leah, wait a second!"

He's on my heels already.

"Get away from me!" I snap.

"Would you just stop for one minute?"

"Quit chasing me everywhere and just leave me alone!"

"No, god damn it!" he says roughly and he grabs my arm and pulls me around to face him. His fingers are digging into my bicep so hard I can feel my heartbeat beneath them, and his face is so close I'm almost afraid to breathe.

"What are you so afraid of, Leah?"

"I—I'm not afraid, I'm ticked off," I say as evenly as I can.

"Liar," he says immediately.

"You were talking about groping me in front of my brother!" I say, my anger reemerging as quickly as it had dissipated.

He laughs softly, surprising me.

"Any other day and you would have found that hilarious, you know," he says. His hands slide to my waist and draw me closer. I don't push him away, partly because I can't move and partly because…well, I don't want to.

"On any other day, you wouldn't have actually acted on it," I say shakily, trying to maintain the resentment in my voice and failing miserably. He smirks.

"You're not mad at me, Leah," he says confidently.

A stab of annoyance breaks through the spell his touch has cast over me, and I push him away with difficulty.

"Don't tell me what I feel," I say irritably, but his smirk only widens.

"You know, Leah," he says, stepping towards me again. Would the guy ever give up? "You're sort of beautiful when you're all riled up about something."

My breath catches. Did he just call me beautiful? In all the years I'd known him—essentially my entire life—Jacob black had never once uttered those words before. I try to play it off like I'm not completely bowled over.

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" I ask, taking a tiny step back from him.

"I thought it was a pretty good one myself," he says, still advancing slowly on me.

"Not really," I say offhandedly.

"Oh?" he raises his eyebrows.

"Nope," I say, and I nearly curse as my back hits a tree and I'm forced to stop. "I'm only sort of beautiful? What kind of compliment is that?"

"Well," he says softy, coming to a stop mere inches from me. "Aren't we nitpicky tonight?"

He leans in, but a surge of panic rises up in my chest, and I put my hands on his chest to stop him. It works, but feeling my hands pressed against his bare chest also causes a lot of problems for my hormones.

"What are you doing?" I ask stupidly.

He sighs.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"Trying to kiss me again," I say.

"Well done," he says sarcastically, and he leans in again.

"Why?" I blurt out before his lips can touch mine, and he stops, looking frustrated.

"Didn't we already go over this?" he asks.

"No."

"Well, that's just not true."

"Refresh my memory," I say.

"I think that's what I'm trying to do," he says pointedly. "But you're making it impressively difficult."

"Jacob…" I sigh.

"Leah," he mimics me.

"I don't get it, Jake," I say, looking away from his big brown eyes. "A few minutes ago, you were madder than I'd ever seen you and now you're trying to seduce me in the woods…"

He raises his eyebrows.

"And this is a problem…why?" he asks.

"Because! This isn't how I—how I always…pictured it," I say, embarrassed by the blush that creeps into my cheeks. "I just…I can't be sure if this is all some stupid passion of the moment thing or—or if you really…"

I trail off, unsure of how to phrase it. Love is too strong a word for this fragile moment, but like doesn't seem sufficient enough taking into account how long we've known each other.

"Leah Nicole Clearwater," he says, his eyes wide. "You don't honestly think I'd ruin our friendship just to…to…do inappropriate things to you?"

I don't look at him, completely ashamed of myself. Of course he wouldn't do something like that. How could I even think it?

"I'm sorry," I say unevenly. "I didn't mean…I just—I've wanted this…I've wanted you for so long, it just—it seems too good to be true I guess. As corny as that sounds."

I hear him sigh again, but I still can't meet his eyes.

"You are so fucking stupid sometimes, you know that?" he says, but his voice is amused instead of angry. "Am I really gonna have to force you to look at me again?"

I stare at the ground for another long moment before finally raising my eyes to his. He smirks and brushes a few leaves from my hair. I almost laugh, but I can't seem to find the breath.

"You ready to stop running away from me now?" he asks.

I hesitate for only a second before I nod, a small smile forming on my lips. He needs no other confirmation than that, and he leans forward, capturing my mouth against his once more. This time the kiss is slow, gentle but still brimming with excitement. When finally he pulls away, I can't keep the smile off my face, and he grins back at me.

"Of course, I shouldn't worry about you running away. You couldn't outrun me if you tried," he says.

I raise my eyebrows.

"Oh, you think so, huh?" I ask, and before he can reply I'm off, sprinting through the woods.

"Hey, that's cheating!" he yells after me, but I just laugh and keep on running, exhilarated by the events of the past hour and the feeling of the wind running through my hair. I can hear him racing behind me, and I slow down the tiniest bit so he can reach me because now…now I want him to catch me.

And hold onto me forever.