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Being Her

A series of one-shots in Claire's perspective throughout the series For Her.

Um, will not go in any order. they come as i get bored enough to write them. PSSSTTT if you want a new story, go review with her!

38. Blame

Rating 0/5   Word Count 562   Review this Chapter

I could hardly breathe. A declaration like that… so intense, so unexpected. He is still looking at me, his eyes warm and gentle and kind, a tiny smile on his lips.

I return it.

“This is delicious, by the way,” he adds. I take another bite. It’s not bad, no. Of course, Quil has a bizarrely strong reaction to all food. He loves it all, pretty much unconditionally. Werewolf metabolism- all the guys do it.

“Thank you.”

He continues eating, probably consuming six times as much food as I can in half as much time. I do also. After a minute, I break the silence.

“Quil? Just so you know? I can’t wait to go to college. It’s scaring me, sure, but I can’t wait to be with you.”

It costs me a lot to say. More than I would have expected, to simply admit the truth—that I want to be with him.

I know he’s making a sacrifice, waiting for me to leave, as if he hasn’t waited enough already. Fourteen years he’s been waiting, and now there’s even longer… and I’m not sure I’ll be able to, even then, to do what I should for him.

“Neither can I,” he answers with a smile, and I can feel my arms yearning to wrap around him, even across the table.

“I love you, Quil,” I say, and I can feel the words warm me. It’s amazingly, resoundingly, heart-breakingly true. I love him.

“I love you, Claire. So much.”

I look at him and I can see in his eyes that those words are not enough, that he really does adore me.

I smile.

I feel oddly safe with this, more than I would have expected. I know I can count on him now. He will not break my heart. He will never leave me. He would die before he would hurt me.

I trust him. I trust him to love me, and to be mine, and to touch me… someday. Not right now, obviously, but soon. Soon, I’ll be brave enough, and I know when I am he’ll be waiting.

He must be pretty good at that by now. After all, I’ve kept him waiting for a long, long time, years and years of loneliness while for some reason expecting me.

He interrupts my thoughts. “Claire? Can I ask you something?”

I grin. “That depends.”

“On what?”

My smile turns into a laugh. “On what it is, smartie.”

“Oh, right.”

I laugh again at the expression of humiliation on his face. “No, whatever you want. One unconditional answer.”

“All right.” I watch his chest rise and fall with a deep, shuddering breath. “Claire, I know you probably don’t want to think about this, much less say it, much less to me. But I need to know. And I understand if you don’t want to answer. But… I have to know. It’s up to you if you want to answer but…”

I think I know where he’s going with this. I interrupt the nervousness we both feel. “Quil, if you don’t spit it out I’m going to smack you.”

“Claire… what happened… I have to know. I know it’s my fault but… do you blame me for it?”