IMPORTANT

Hey guys. Long time no see, eh?

I realized a few hours ago that someone I know on FanFiction has actually used a few ideas in Wild Child and Untouched in their own stories.

I read them then compared them to my own - it isn't downright copying, but comparing them it's pretty damn obvious that mine have been copied.

Don't worry - i'm not going to stop updating 'cos of it.

It just hurts a bit, that's all.

I'm not going to name names - you know who you are, so please, at least change it.

ANYWAY!

I'm back, baby! And updating!

Here's an extra long chapter to make up for the time

Enjoy

xx

I stretched to my right, wincing as the familiar strain shot through my left side. Taking a deep breath I allowed myself to – literally – feel the burn, and then righted myself to an upright position. A wave of nausea hit me, and I cradled my head in my hands, wishing for it to go away.

Ever since that night with Paul at the club, and I realized I liked him more than I first thought. I've been getting these headaches. Whenever I'm around him they ease away, but when I avoid him they return with a vengeance. I refuse to believe they are even remotely connected.

And in the meantime, I suffer.

Everyone's been acting so weird these past couple of weeks. Even if I'm going for a run, Jacob or Embry or sometimes even Leah with run with me, claiming they need the exercise. At school I'm walked to every class, and even going to work they hang about at the cafe for a few hours, which is really annoying as I have to sneak out the back. I told the people working there that my dad was a high class businessman, and he had his henchmen follow me around. They were surprisingly helpful and after a few weeks banned Jacob from entering the shop.

Ha. Life is sweet.

Sighing, I get up and go outside, heading to the garage. My bike needed a clean.

Everyone around me is so tense. Usually I eat alone now, eating in my room. The whole group of people come along to Emily's nearly every night; scarfing down food then making me head upstairs so they can 'talk'. It's so strange.

Paul and I have been making small chit chat since then. It's mostly riling each other up; but I have noticed – tell anyone else and I'll kill you – that I feel just that little bit better talking to him.

"I think it's awesome you've got your own bike." Paul's voice floated from behind me. I jumped; unaware of the fact he'd entered the garage while I'd been deep in thought. I was crouched over my baby (the bike, not an infant human, you retards) trying to clean the bloody footrests.

"Eh. It's decent." I grinned at him before leaning over my bike again, my face flushing red.

You. Idiot. You just smiled at him like some preppy cheerleader doing an advertisement for white teeth. I can hear the slogan....

And thaaaat's flashy!

"What's flashy?"

I jump, looking up to meet dark eyes. "None of your business, dog."

He smirks, seemingly pleased with himself. "If I'm the dog, does that make you my bitch?"

"Drop dead."

"After you, dear."

"Go drown in a puddle."

"Ladies first!"

"Go eat Jake's cooking!"

"Urgh." I heard him dry retch before weakly admitting defeat. "You win that round."

"Of course. I'm fabulous." I attempt to wipe my hands on the dishrag I'd bought in earlier. So far I've managed to get grease all over my hands as well as dirt.

Fuck a duck sideways with a bent spoon!

"I need to use soap for this." I brush past Paul in the small garage, rolling my eyes. "Come on, loser."

I pirouette to the front door then moonwalk to the kitchen, snorting as Paul attempted to copy my awesome moves. "You suck at dancing."

"I do not!"

I smirked, squirting soap onto my hands. "Yeah, you kinda do."

"I don't!" He snarled. Oooh. Someone's angry.

"Nah, that pretty much proves it. You can't. Epic fail. Name a dance you can do."

I dried my hands before turning to face him, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

His face was red as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times but no words came out.

"Ha. I knew it." I smiled smugly as I darted past him, heading for the living room. There was silence after me, making my clear victory known.

"Ballroom dancing!"

I jerk to a halt, spinning on my heel to face him. "What?"

Paul looked so embarrassed; his face was stained a permanent red. "I…Emily made us take lessons for her wedding." He muttered at the floor. "The guy said I was good…"

I took pity. "I'm sure you are. I just took in your size and thought you were too big to be graceful."

I realized how bad those words were the instant I said them. Paul knew this, and leered suggestively at me. "Oh, you think I'm too big to handle myself?"

"It's not the size honey; it's how you use it. And judging by that fail of a moonwalk; you ain't got no skill, bruva!"

We were both in hysterics when Jared entered the house, his voice booming loudly. "Code Red!"

I watched as Paul transformed, the smile sliding off my face. The mirth faded from his eyes as he straightened up, his mouth pressing into a thin line instead of the open mouthed laughing he was doing a second ago.

I didn't understand.

"Code Red? What do you mean, Code Red?"

Jared realized I was there and his eyes widened. "Why aren't you at Sue's?" He demanded with his voice going strangely hysterical.

"My bike was dirty, so I stayed to clean it." I frowned at his worry. "Jared, what…"

"You idiot!" Jared snarled at Paul. He actually punched Paul hard in the shoulder, making him stagger back. "He's in the fucking reservation, while you're staying here, playing with engines? You moron!"

"I just wanted some time with her, okay?" Paul roared back, shaking and trembling and snarling back.

I was frozen, staring at the two. "Um….guys..?"

Their gazes snapped to me; two dark pairs of anxiety and anger. They looked back at each other before coming to a silent agreement. I'll never know how they did it.

"Louise, you have to stay here." Jared was at the front door in a second, scanning the area. "It's really important; you have to stay here."

"Do you think he'll come here?"

"Nah. Too many scents."

"You're right." Paul took me by the hand and pushed me upstairs to the bathroom, sitting me on the toilet. "Listen to me, Lou." He took my face in his burning hands, his eyes searing mine. "Whatever you hear, do not leave this bathroom. Stay here. Don't make a sound. We'll be back soon."

"Paul?" Okay. I'm a tough girl. I can handle buff men with knives or psycho killers with guns. But with the way they were talking, it sounded like…like there was a monster out there.

I was scared. And it showed in my voice. His hard face softened, and he leaned down and pressed his lips to my forehead, the heat calming me – if only for a second.

"Stay safe, Lou." He whispered. And then he was gone, the bathroom door slamming closed. "Lock it!" He called, and I heard him bounding down the stairs and out the front door, locking it afterwards.

A silence fell over the house.

My legs felt like jelly as I got up and locked the bathroom door, my hands shaking like mad. I curled up on the toilet seat and put my head on my knees, listening to the oppressive silence that pressed down on my ears.

I waited.

And waited some more.

I couldn't tell what time it was; the bathroom light didn't give me any clues. So I sat there for a couple of hours, slowly but surely drifting off to sleep.

A crash sounded in the house, jerking me awake.

I stared, terrified, at the door. Sometime during my nap, my legs had slid to the floor while my head had been resting on the ceramic tiles behind be. I stood up, scrambling to put my back against the wall, facing the door.

Something was moving downstairs, scrambling furniture and banging into walls. My heard thundered in my ears as I took shallow breaths, my throat closed up in fear. The thing downstairs stopped. I held my breath, waiting anxiously.

It was quiet.

Would I be clichéd if I added the phrase 'too quiet'?

I released the breath I'd been holding, sighing softly. Still no sound. I shook off my death grip of the towel hanger and took a hesitant step forward, still listening. No sound.

Huh. Maybe it went away.

….you know, that's always the sort of clichéd line you'd hear in a horror movie right before the monster attacks.

I'd barely finished thinking that when a hand smashed through the door, reached down and crunched the lock in one go; crushing it up and letting it fall to the ground in dust. The door swung open, and the most horrifying person stood at the entrance, staring unblinkingly at me.

If this was the face of a monster, I wouldn't believe it apart from two things. It was an alabaster pale man with the most striking features; his tall frame owning the doorway. His clothes were rugged, but nonetheless fit him well. He wore no shoes, but his feet looked strangely clean.

If I hadn't of seen him punch through a door and crunch metal up with his hand, I still would have balked.

His eyes were a bright red; reminding me of those poppies to celebrate Australia Day.

I knew this guy wasn't human.

You would have screamed, too.

The scream hadn't even finished going past my lips before his hand was there, crushing my face. I struggled, eyes wide and heart in my throat as he leaned forward, showing white teeth.

Somewhere in the depths of my mind, I noted he looked like a shark.

My hands scrambled behind me, looking for a weapon, any weapon. Ironically, my hand sank in a tub of bath salts.

Oh, how lovely. I was going to die with my hand smelling of lavender.

He suddenly snarled, releasing my face and snatching up my arms, dragging me out of the bathroom. My right arm had shot through the air and was held in front of his face as he yanked my legs through the bathroom door. It happened in seconds, and my hand released the bath salts as part of the original momentum.

They landed on his face; in his eyes and mouth. He snarled viciously, spitting out the melted grains and shoved me backwards – down the stairs. I managed to turn as the walls blurred on either side of me, and barely let out a small squeak before I hit the floor at the bottom, skidding and twisting and rolling (more like tumbling) over and over again until I hit the opposite wall. I stayed motionless for a minute, my whole being in shock.

Both of my wrists already had purple hand shaped bruises with my right wrist looking funny – a bit too far back for normal. I could feel warm liquid gushing from my smashed nose and all over the wall and floor. My knees were stiff with the left kneecap feeling distinctly loose. My jaw hurt; pain lacing through it every time I opened my mouth.

A roar thundered in my ears before a cold hand grabbed my hair and dragged me forward, swinging me into the air and letting go. I flew briefly before smashing into something glass above the fireplace, tumbling over the mantelpiece and landing with a cry on the floor.

I hurt so much. My body was in so much agony, I want to die, someone, kill me…!

Apparently, the monster could read minds as he lifted me up with one hand, slamming me against the fireplace mantelpiece. Ow.

His eyes fixated on the flowing blood, his mouth opening as he panted. I felt a sneeze coming and couldn't hold it in; nosebleeds make me sneeze. And so I did. All over his face. An extra blood clot dribbled from my nose, sliding down my chin.

He growled and darted forward; licking the blood clot off with his cold tongue. I froze in horror.

What kind of monster is this?

He kept lapping the blood off my face and neck; making small growls of satisfaction. He did it so quickly his head was a blur, and as I opened my mouth to scream his tongue swept past my lips, getting the blood off them too. I clamped my mouth shut again. With growing realization I realized where he was staring, and why.

There was no more blood on my skin save the blood coming from my nose. Which was the source.

I stiffened, staring at him in blatent disgust and fear.

He wasn't going to. No. That…that's disgusting, immoral….just please, no.

But he did.

Leaning forward he closed his mouth around my nostrils and sucked, scooping the blood directly into his mouth. I screamed and struggled, my whole mind and body recoiling in disgust.

God no, please, EW! Oh fuck, please no!

He sucked harder and to my horror I felt my lungs constrict. Fuck no! I opened my mouth, letting air back into my lungs.

He slammed my mouth shut with his other hand and kept sucking my blood out through my nose.

I struggled harder, screaming and fighting and crying, the hot tears running down my face. I was getting so dizzy; you know that horrible constricting feeling in your chest and head when you hold your breath? Like that, except worse. My eyes rolled back in my head as darkness overtook me, my heart beating wildly like bird wings in my ears.

Thud-a-thud-a-thud-a-thud-a-thud-a-thud-a-thud-a-thud.

With my failing heart and shortening breath, I wrenched my jaw free and yanked my nose from his mouth, wheezing into his face. "Drop dead."

He snapped in response.

Behind him, the front door exploded clean off its hinges and spun halfway up the stairs, sliding down and jamming the bottom steps.

Enormous wolves entered the house; snarling, vicious teeth snapping, fur on end and burning eyes taking everything in. Whoa; I've gone crazy from blood loss. The monster let go off me. I hadn't even hit the floor by the time he had lunged forward, hands wide. I landed face first and stayed there, fighting to get my breath back. My nose wasn't bleeding, and I wished to holy heaven it would start again. My heart slowed down as I stayed there, immobile on the ground.

I heard the wolves fighting with the monster; occasionally a paw or a foot would thunder by my ear before sliding away. I heard the monster cry a shrill scream before the sound of plaster breaking and wallpaper ripping reached my ears. Howls went up in the room as I heard the wolves give chase, leaving me on the floor. But two stayed. I think.

Wait…why am I hearing Paul's voice?

"Louise…oh fuck, Louise? Can you hear me? Baby, answer me, please…"

I felt his hands gently cradle my head, trembling above my scalp.

"Don't move her, Paul!" Huh. That's Seth. "Her spine could be damaged."

Paul howled. My insides froze at the raw pain in his crying voice. "She'll be okay." He snapped fiercely. "She'll be fine."

"Paul – we can't move her until Carlisle gets here. I'll get her a blanket."

"What if she's…?"

I heard a smack. "Paul, use your senses for fucks sake, she's breathing and her heartbeat's strong."

I gave a soft sigh, meaning to laugh but having no strength. I felt Paul's hand on my face; gently, ever so gently, turning so my nose wasn't smashed against the floor. I had my left cheek against the laminate floor. Although my eyes were too sore to open, I knew he was right next to me, keeping me warm and safe.

"Lou."

For some reason, my eyelids fluttered, and as my eyes opened slowly he brushed away the hair from my face.

"Louise." He breathed in relief. "I'm here, you're safe. Help is coming."

I blinked slowly. My jaw was in too much pain to move.

"Oh god…" Paul stared at me. "Louise, can you move?"

I only blinked slowly.

"Blink one for yes and two for no."

I wasn't paralyzed – that I knew. But I was in too much pain to move. So I blinked twice.

He pressed his lips to my cheek, his tears running over my face in hot rivulets. "Help is coming." He whispered, stroking my cheek. "You'll be fine. You're safe."

With him stroking my cheek, I closed my eyes and fell into a gentle sleep.

I give you permission to flame me for not updating so long

(drops to the floor and worships computer)

Please! Take this as a peace offering!