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I'll Teach You How To Love (Me)

Summary:
One of the werewolves imprints on a mysterious woman. He travels to the ends of the earth to find her, and then discovers he has an impossible task. He doesn't just have to convince her to love him. He has to convince her love exists at all.


Notes:
Right- this is a multi-chapter fic. I own nothing. It's in second person, so you can really pick a werewolf besides Jake, Quil, Sam, and Jared. In my mind, it's Embry, and that may be established later. Each chapter has a song which inspired it. I will provide links to the songs. You need to listen to them to get the right mood. I own nothing. REVIEW.


3. I Will Possess Your Heart

Rating 5/5   Word Count 716   Review this Chapter

“Sit down, kid,” she says colloquially. You take her up on the offer, your legs aching from the long walk up her rickety staircase. Your wide eyes dart around her apartment (she invited you in!) and take in every detail, because if she’s repulsed by your truth and commands you out of her life, you will always have this moment, these memories.

But always your gaze returns to her, never failing to adore the only thing in the world that matters to you. She is a miracle, every moment. That is a truth that resounds ever truer in you now that you’ve found her, you’ve found her.

You’ve succeeded. You know this triumph from talking to the others- from their memories.

The first time Quil made Claire laugh.

The day Emily agreed to marry Sam.

The look on Kim’s face when Jared said I love you for the first time.

Although they aren’t your own, they are your strongest memories. They pervade every thought with their passion. And now you have one to add, one success that will hopefully be followed by a hundred others. You have found her, and now you can add on to your triumphs in so many ways, because she is now within your grasp.

“So, you’re the creep with the posters.” I like the cadence of her voice, the gentle rhythm, almost teasing, soft, like poetry, like music, only without any grand intentions. It just is, and it fascinates me. I lose myself in the cadence of her speech. “Kid? I’m talkin’ to you. You got anything to say for yourself?”

“I’m not a stalker.”

“Coulda fooled me.”

She doesn’t seem angry, though, you like to think you would recognize that. No, she seems almost pleased, laughing, teasing. “Well, I saw you… a while ago. In the subway here in Seattle.”

“You’re the kid with… the big kid with the big friends, right?”

You grin. She remembers you! After all this time, that single moment you shared is still significant to her. It has been a memory for all these years. “That’s me.”

“That was six years ago,” she points out. And you shrug.

“Well… I got this feeling…” this is your chance. Your chance to tell her the vast and terrible truth. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

“That’s a mighty personal question, kid…”

“Please.”

She smirks. You lose your breath at the simple beauty of the expression, of her exquisite, perfect happiness. “No.”

You feel that word like a punch in your stomach. Then you can’t tell her. She’ll never believe you.

Worse, she continues, “I don’t believe in love, as a matter of fact.”

But I love you. The words hang there, unsaid, so poignant you’re almost sure she can hear them to. “Well… I guess… I guess there’s only one way to explain it.” Not the truth. She doesn’t trust you. She doesn’t know you. “I thought you were simply the most attractive person I’d ever seen in my life, and I wanted to see you again.” Strictly speaking, it’s the truth. She is the epitome of beauty. But of course the reality is so much more.

“Well, that’s flattering.” You try again to place her accent- not quite Southern, maybe a hint of it in the broad vowels and slurred nasal. And then she laughs, laughs outright, and all thought flees your mind at the simple perfection of it, ringing like a bell in your ears.

“I just… wow, I guess I’ve been looking for you for six years… So, not to be anticlimactic, but… wanna catch a movie sometime?” you ask, smiling wryly.

“No.” She softens this blow, though. “Like I said, I don’t believe in love, and I don’t date. But if you want to, you can hang here with me for a while.”

You can’t agree eagerly enough. As she stands to fetch drinks and food, she turns back, those rich eyes gazing into your heart, and says, “Hey, I never got your name, stalker.”

You stutter it out, lacking eloquence in the ferocity of her gaze.

She smiles at your incoherency and flounces away.