The Life and Times Of Quil
A series of one-shots about Quil's [AKA the best werewolf ever's] life.
Don't we all love Quil? *sigh* He's amazing...
2. My Girl
Rating 5/5 Word Count 895 Review this Chapter
The wind streaked through my long, chocolate brown hair, whipping around my face as I ran, pushing my muscles to the limit.
Yeah, being a werewolf definitely rocked. The speed, the strength, the family, not to mention the feeling that I was actually protecting my tribe.
Hey, Quil! Embry called to me. Come on, we’re all going over to Emily’s. She made some double dark chocolate fudge brownies!
My ears perked up. Emily made the best brownies in the history of ever. I turned and sprinted towards Sam’s house.
When the cheery house came into view, I phased and ran up the steps, hopping as I tried to pull on my shorts.
I burst into the kitchen, where five other La Push boys were crowded around the tiny table.
“Hey, leave some for me!” I complained as I pushed my way through the crowd, swiping 3 brownies from the plate that was being ravaged.
Seeing as how it was way too cramped to be in the kitchen, I scooted out into the living room.
I plopped down onto the couch, and was about to take a large bite when I noticed someone watching me.
I tore my gaze away from the delicacy in my hands to the tiny person sitting right next to me.
My jaw dropped, as did my double dark chocolate fudge brownies. The loud voices from the kitchen faded away. The world stopped. I saw her. My girl, my one.
“Hi!” said the little girl with a soft, high voice. Her light brown hair curled around her dimpled face.
She waved at me with her tiny hand, grinning at me with her chocolate covered mouth.
“Hi. What’s your name, sweetie?” I asked her.
“I’m Claire! I’m…” her face was furrowed in concentration. “Two years old! So who’re you?” Claire asked me.
“Me? I’m Quil.” I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her adorable face.
“Quilly! Quilly Quilly Quilly. You have a pretty name. Wanna be my best friend?” Claire asked me, her deep brown eyes shining with anticipation.
“Of course, Claire-bear! You’re very fun to be around.” I told her. I didn’t know why, but for some reason I was drawn to her.
In the next ten minutes, Claire had told me all about her life, and we had just started playing ‘hair salon’ when I heard snickering behind me.
I growled. “Excuse me, I’m busy.”
“Yeah, playing princess.” Paul smirked at me.
“Shut up! Quilly is my best friend, so you gots to leave him alone!” My little Claire defended me, her hands on her hips, like a miniature Emily.
“Hey, what’s going on in here?” Sam called as he walked in. Paul and I were both growling at each other, while Claire glared at Paul.
“Uh, Quil?” Sam asked me, looking at Claire and I. “Why have you been in here with Emily’s niece for so long?” His eyes widened. “You’re not some crazy pedophile, are you?”
“No!” I retorted. “I just like her. She’s a real sweetheart.” Sam looked at me for a minute.
“Come outside and phase.” He ordered me.
“No! Quilly needs to get his hair done!” Claire whined.
“It’s okay, sweetie. I’ll be back in a minute, okay?” I said, my voice soft. Once she nodded grudgingly, I walked outside and shed my shorts.
Sam phased right after me, and his thoughts bombarded me.
So, does it feel like the world revolves around her? Do you just want to be hers and only hers?
Um, I guess yeah. But why, Sam? I asked him, hoping to get some answers. Even while I was thinking this, the song My Girl was stuck in my head.
Because you just imprinted. He thought, with a tone of amazement. And stop singing!
What can make me feel this way? My girl (my girl, my girl), Talkin' 'bout my girl (my girl). Wait. WHAT?
I phased back and shook my head. “How? I mean, she’s only two!”
“How would I know? Anyways, we have to tell Emily. And I think we need to tell her parents about the whole wolf thing.”
“Why? Isn’t it supposed to be a secret?” I asked Sam, totally confused.
“If we don’t, they’ll probably call the cops on you for being around their child so much.” Sam said, sounding like it was obvious.
And I guess it was, I just wasn’t the smartest guy around
We walked inside. Sam went into the kitchen to tell Emily, while I went to Claire’s side.
“Claire-bear?” I started.
“What, Quilly?” her innocent voice asked.
“I think I’m going to be around a lot, because you're my girl." My heart swelled when a cute grin spread on her face.
“Quilly! That’s so cool! You're my boy.” She squealed. “Now, you need pretty hair.” Claire grabbed my hair and started pulling it into a messy ponytail.
I didn’t tell her that she was ripping my scalp apart, or that I would rather eat some food, or that I couldn’t wait until she was older so we could date and all.
No, I kept my mouth shut, grinning instead. Because she was my world, my all, my girl.
It may not be the standard picture of true love, but it was love, and it was definitely true.
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- 25 Mar 08
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