I SINCERLY APOLOGISE FOR THE WAIT.

I have excuses, ahem: it was my birthday. (11th Dec. I'm 18 now. Yay!) then it was Xmas. I went away. Plus I'm lazy.

Pick your favourite. :D. Anyway, so here it is! The epilogue. Viva la Quil. ENJOY! I'll ramble on more at the end, but for now, READ ON! HOPE YOU LOIKE IT! X

This story is dedicated to EIMEAR and JEN. Just 'cause they loved it so much. And because I love them. LOVE YE XXX

Epilogue: Mr Forever

Quil's POV

Claire.

That one word meant everything to me.

It summed up the whole meaning of my existence.

It was everything.

She was everything.

I couldn't live without her.

I couldn't breathe without her.

Every moment I was apart from her, I drove myself crazy thinking about her.

Was she OK? Was she in a good mood? Or was she grumpy and bitchy? What was she doing? Was she talking to anyone? What was she talking about? What was she thinking about? Did she think about me? What would she say if I called her? Did she want me to call her?

You see? Crazy.

Crazy about her.

I loved her with every inch of my heart, soul, existence.

I loved that irritated face she made when someone messed up her hair.

I loved that face she made when she was annoyed at me, the way her eyes narrowed and she looked like she would love nothing more than to choke me with her two hands, and I loved the way her anger visibly faded when I smiled at her.

I loved that dazed look on her face when she stared at my bare chest.

I loved that blush that tinged her cheeks when she was embarrassed.

I loved the sound of her laugh.

I loved the way she rolled her eyes when I said something that she thought was stupid or ridiculous.

I loved her smile, and the evil glint in her eyes when she called me names.

I loved it when the light caught her hair just the right way, and it almost turned the exact colour of my eyes, my fur.

I loved the way she wrinkled her nose and frowned when she was confused.

I loved the sulky tone of her voice when she didn't get her way.

I loved the feeling of her lips against mine, moving with mine, the taste of her lip balm.

I loved how fast her heart began to beat when I stood too close to her.

I could have all the time in the world, and it still wouldn't be enough to list all the things I loved about Claire.

I even loved her name. I loved how it sounded when I said it out loud. Sometimes I said it too many times when I was talking to her, more than was necessary. My head always turned when I heard her name, on the TV, on the radio… even though it wasn't my Claire, my head still turned. My heart still jumped.

I would do absolutely anything for that girl. If there was something she was too afraid to do, I would do it for her. If there was something that would hurt her, I would stand in its way. If I had to give up my own life so that she would live, I would do it.

And I was prepared to do it. I was prepared to leave the earth, just so she could keep her place in it.

I would die for that girl. For my girl.

For my Claire.

Because she was mine. Mine. No one else's.

Not that jerk-off Aaron's, or any of the complete morons she had ever gone out with. I had hated them all, with a passion, every single one of them. They weren't good enough for her, and they didn't treat her the way she was supposed to be treated.

I had to let her have boyfriends when she was younger, because she was too young to have me. But I let her know how much I disapproved of them, and they never lasted long anyway. I just hated knowing that she was with other guys, kissing other guys, sharing private jokes with other guys, holding hands with other guys, and all I wanted to do was be with her and kiss her and share private jokes with her and hold her hand. Because it was me, and it was her, and it was us, and we were meant to be.

But I had to wait. Wait until she was ready to find out everything. I had decided, when she was two years old, to wait until she was eighteen to find everything out. It was an adult age, and she'd be mature enough to handle it all. I was going to break it to her gently, piece by piece, the whole story. But then her father screwed up all my careful planning.

It had been months ago now, but I still couldn't believe Ryan had almost told her everything against my wishes. He had even agreed with me that eighteen was a suitable age to tell her. I shuddered to imagine how Claire would have reacted, if I had arrived at the house too late to stop the phone call. I couldn't bear to imagine her anger, or worse, her fear. That was what scared me the most. That she'd be frightened of me.

At least Ryan hadn't told her that I was a wolf. I would have travelled thousands of miles just to break his neck for him. I had had my speech planned out in my head for sixteen years, and that fool nearly wrecked everything for me. I did everything for Claire; it wasn't to make things easier for me, it wasn't to ease my conscience in any way - it was for Claire. I thought he understood that, but clearly, no. The look in her eyes as I snatched the phone away from her almost stopped my heart. She looked so unsure.

But she had surprised me, yet again. She hadn't expected it, so she just needed time to think about it all. There was no reaction. Just surprise.

So I gave her time, but every second tortured me. She knew I was in love with her, and it killed me that she had to think about it. I knew I couldn't rush her into any decisions, because that would be the worst thing that I could possibly do. She'd be then forced to decide on a path that she wasn't completely sure of, and it could end up backfiring on both of us. She had needed to be completely sure. And I wanted to do it right, and give her that time and space.

But it didn't stop me from going crazy. I lay awake at night with my hands over my face, telling myself it wouldn't be a good idea to climb through her window, just to see her. I wished on a regular basis that she would just suddenly proclaim her love for me, and that she was sick of thinking. I had always prided myself on being patient, because let's face it; I had been the epitome of patience for almost sixteen years. But I was desperate for her to decide.

Telling her everything was tougher than I thought it was going to be. She stared at me, confusion, anger, disbelief in her eyes, and I waited for her to jump up and run out of the door. And she did. I let her go, because my mind was blank, and I didn't know what I could do to convince her.

But I knew she'd come back. I loved her, and I knew she knew that, and I hoped, that maybe she had fallen in love with me, too. I thought she was going to need a lot more convincing when she did eventually return, because she was being difficult and awkward and bossy, but then she just kissed me, and every thought flew out of my head and I realised, that after all that time, she was finally mine, mine to have, mine to keep, mine to love unconditionally without any reason. Elation was too weak a word to describe how I felt at that second.

I never let her go again.

Of course, it wasn't perfect, or easy, and mistakes were made, but Claire and I made it through. Things that were meant to be always worked themselves out in the end.

Ever since the day I had almost lost her, she's barely left my sight. I wasn't going to make the same mistakes again. I realised that she was way more important to me than anything, and that she came before my responsibilities to the pack, and I didn't care what the other guys made of that. I had chosen them over her once before, and it nearly resulted in consequences I don't even want to think were possibilities. I would always choose her, now. Without her, nothing else mattered to me anymore. Nothing else would be worth it without her.

So it has been six months. I've been living with her for six months, and I thought I would know all her routines by now, but she still surprises me every day.

We argue every day too. I've heard that's healthy for a couple, and if that's the case then Claire and I are as healthy as freaking horses. Our arguments are always stupid, and somehow it's always my fault. But you know, I find them quite funny. They're especially hilarious during Claire's… er… "time of the month", when she freaks out over the TV being turned up too loud or my snoring or how I never put the toilet seat down. Or how I use up all her shampoo.

They're mainly ridiculous arguments. For example.

"Quil. Why is the window open?"

"Because you opened it."

"I did not open it."

"Yeah you did, because it wasn't me."

"It obviously was, because I think I would remember opening it, and I don't, so technically that means you opened it, and I want to offer my congratulations. You've frozen the entire house."

"Ooh-er. Well, if we're getting technical, then let me just say that technically you're wrong and I'm right, because technically why the hell would I bother opening the window, because if I wanted air I'd go outside. Technically."

"Technically you're an asshole."

"Technically you hate admitting you're wrong, and I bet you remember opening the window now and everything and just won't admit it."

"Shut up."

"Why should I?"

"Because you're annoying me. Just shut up. No one opened the window, then."

"Stop trying to compromise. You opened the window - I won't take half the blame!"

"Oh, just shut up, Quil!"

"Fine. You started it, just so you know."

"Well, you opened the goddamn window, so technically you started it."

"Technically-"

"Shut up!"

And I just laughed and shut the stupid window and hugged her until she wasn't cold anymore.

Six months ago, I had envisioned the two of us living together, and I really liked what I had imagined. Just the two of us, spending time alone, able to forget about the world and other people and just be with each other.

I was naïve to think that Embry would ever just go away.

But I certainly didn't really expect the rest of them.

My house had become party freaking central. Embry, who was now sharing a house with Paul and Jacob, came over every day, just to wind up Claire and drive me completely mental. Paul came over too, with a six pack of beer, which Embry usually ended up drinking. He usually cooked the food, which was handy, since I detested that kitchen and Claire was the worst cook I had ever encountered in my entire life, and I had suffered through those scrambled eggs Embry decided to make one day when we were fourteen. Gag. And plus, no one could make southern fried chicken like Paul. Jacob also joined us, since he and Claire had really seemed to hit it off, and he usually loitered around the house making jokes.

Then there was Seth and Leah, who liked to "pop in" every now and then. Claire and Leah were always yapping away to each other about girl stuff, and Seth was usually a laugh to have around too. It wasn't too terrible, but the constant company did annoy me sometimes. All I wanted to do was be with Claire. But I didn't really complain much, because I got to be with her anyway, and I loved how witty she was, and some of the insults she could come out with were pure gold.

It was sort of great, because Claire had been kept quite separate from the pack until recently, and now the two most important things in my life were existing together. Claire had made friends with them all. Everyone got along. When I woke up in the mornings, I got to see Claire. I didn't have to wake up and hear Embry's voice and travel all the way to her house, because she was there when I opened my eyes. Then usually my best friends would come around, and it was awesome.

"Quil? Are you awake?"

Her voice pulled me out of my thoughts, and I opened my eyes. I had been awake for ages, but I couldn't bear to wake her up, and I had gotten lost somewhere in my thoughts while I waited for her to awaken. She was lying on her side, facing me, her eyes open and sleepy, her hair all over the place.

"Yeah," I said hoarsely, smiling at her.

"I knew it," she sighed. "You weren't snoring like a bloody chainsaw, as usual."

I chuckled, and my hand reached over to hers, and intertwined our fingers.

"Ever so pleasant in the mornings, as usual," I said.

"Oh, shut up," she grumbled. "We're only awake two minutes and already you've annoyed me."

"Talented, that's me," I snickered.

"Exceptionally," she agreed, rolling her eyes.

There was a silence, in which we just gazed at each other. I could stare at her all day and not get bored. A blush began to rise in her cheeks as I continued to gaze at her without speaking.

"Stop staring at me," she said, ducking her head and breaking my gaze.

"I can't help it. There's nothing else that I would rather stare at."

"What about your reflection? God knows you stare at that enough as it is."

I grinned. "I can't help that, either," I joked.

She mumbled something which sounded a lot like "egomaniac", and I laughed.

"Don't call me names," I said, snaking my arm around her and dragging her closer to me.

"Don't tell me what to do," she huffed, trying and failing to resist me. I kissed her, and she just melted in my arms. I loved that.

"It's your turn to make breakfast," I reminded her, when we eventually pulled away. Ha. That would get her back for calling me an egomaniac.

She made a face. "No," she whined. "Can't we just wait until Paul gets here?"

"No," I grinned. "Woman make food for hungry man," I growled, in a caveman voice.

I could see her trying not to laugh. "Quil, don't make me…" she whinged.

Aw, crap. I couldn't stand it when she pleaded with me, and she knew it.

"Fine," I said exasperatedly, and rolled out of the warm bed to face the blasted kitchen. "Cereal it is."

It was the only thing I could master without setting something on fire.

"Yummy," Claire scoffed. "Why can't you be like other boyfriends, who cook fry ups and the like for their girlfriends?"

I snorted. "And what other boyfriends would they be?"

"Jared, for example," she said, as though it was very obvious. "Kim told me he cooks her like a three course meal every day."

I snorted again. "Sure he does."

"You're just jealous. You'd burn water."

"Whatever, Marco Pierre White," I said sarcastically, sticking my tongue out at her. Mature, I know.

"Humph," she said, and rolled her eyes. "I never claimed to be a culinary genius."

"Neither did I."

She was stuck for a comeback, and I grinned and winked at her, just to be annoying. I left the bedroom and walked down the hall, stretching my arms and letting my fingers trail along the ceiling. This was just a typical Saturday morning for us. During the week, things were different, though not by much.

Claire had graduated from school, and she was now working in the shop behind my house. I told her she didn't have to, but she insisted. She wanted to earn her own money, she said, and have her own independence, and something to do until she decided whether or not she wanted to go to college. She changed her mind everyday, and I couldn't keep up with her. I knew eventually that she would make up her mind as to what she wanted to do, and I knew she'd probably surprise me, as usual.

She emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later, dressed in a pair of jeans and one of my shirts. I grinned at her. She had no idea how good she looked in my shirt. I was almost jealous. I didn't look half as good in that shirt, and I knew I was really, really good looking.

I served breakfast, complete with bowl and spoon and milk. She sat down on the chair, curling one leg up underneath her and dangling the other. I sat opposite her, pushing a glass of juice in her direction and pouring water out of the tap for myself. We remained in a comfortable silence, and I found myself wondering how long we could have alone before one of the freaking guys decided to join us.

"You know, I'm thinking of getting a tattoo," Claire said, and my head snapped up to look at her. She surprised me every goddamn day.

"Why?" I demanded, disapprovingly.

She was affronted. "Because I want one," she said, in a well, duh voice, rolling her eyes.

"Why?" I demanded again. "You'll have it for life - it will be just like a horrible, ugly stain that you won't be able to get rid of."

"Just like you, I suppose," she grumbled, and I grinned widely.

"Exactly. Even when you're old and wrinkly, it will always be there. And so will I."

Claire made a face at the thought of getting old and wrinkly, and shrugged. "I still want a tattoo. You only live once, that's what I say."

"Well, what are you going to get?" I asked, resigned. Maybe I could successfully talk her out of it when someone showed her a needle. There was no point in arguing with her when she had her mind made up. I took a gulp of water, rolling my eyes.

"I'm going to get a penis tattooed across my forehead, I think," she said.

Water sprayed everywhere, and I started choking.

"What?" I gasped, shocked.

She snorted at me, snickering and laughing. I recovered quickly, wiping water off my chin.

"You're freaking ridiculous," I told her.

"And you believed me," she giggled. "What does that make you?"

"I didn't believe you," I said indignantly. I hadn't. Not really.

"Sure," she said sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes again at her, and then an idea occurred to me. I grinned at her again.

"Are you going to get my name?" I asked slyly, giving her an exaggerated wink.

"Oh, yes, I'm going to get the word 'Quil' tattooed across every surface of my entire body," she announced, sarcastic again.

"I wouldn't mind that," I teased, grinning.

"I'm sure you wouldn't," she snorted. "I'd be like a big 'Quil' beacon. What a boost for your ego that would be."

I laughed, and she smiled reluctantly.

"I don't know what I'm going to get. I haven't decided yet. Maybe something like a rose or a butterfly…"

"Oh, that's boring," I cut her off, waving my hand. "Everyone has stuff like roses and butterflies."

"OK, fine, Mr Know All," she said, affronted again. "What would you get if you were getting a tattoo?"

"That's easy," I shrugged. "Your name."

She smiled. "Really?"

"No. I'd get Embry's name."

She rolled her eyes. "Good luck with that, then."

"Thank you. Good luck with your penis."

"Thanks."

There was a moment of silence, and we just dissolved into laughter. We really were ridiculous sometimes.

The phone started ringing. Claire got up and picked it up off of the counter, still laughing.

"Hello? Oh, hey, Mom."

I rolled my eyes, and she made a face at me. Her mother had taken to ringing the house everyday, usually at completely erratic times.

"No, nothing. Yeah, fine. No, I didn't," Claire was saying, playing with her spoon. She paused, and I knew I would easily be able to hear what her mother was telling her on the end of the line, but I didn't listen out for it. I did try to give her whatever privacy I could. I watched her facial expressions, and tried to discern for myself what was going on.

"You're not serious?" Claire gasped incredulously, suddenly. I frowned. I really hadn't a clue what was happening. The rest of the phone conversation wasn't that helpful, and I raised my eyebrows when she finally got off the phone.

"What was that about?" I asked.

"Denise is pregnant," she announced, still looking vaguely incredulous.

"Wow," I said.

"Yeah," she replied, exhaling loudly.

"You're going to be an aunt," I pointed out, and her eyes widened.

"I'm too young to be an aunt, surely."

"Well, Jack is too young to be an uncle, really, but there you go."

She shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."

"So, I guess this means that Ned the Imaginary Husband mightn't be so imaginary after all," I grinned.

Claire snorted. "Two words, Quil. Artificial insemination."

I started laughing, and she joined in reluctantly.

"Or it could be the immaculate conception, who knows, like," she giggled.

"You're totally ridiculous," I told her. "Poor Ned."

"Poor Ned if he exists. I have yet to see proof."

"What is it with you and the need for proof?"

"I don't know," she said, throwing her arms in the air. "I'm just not convinced."

I stood up and wrapped my arms around her, still chuckling, and kissed the top of her head.

"Is it just me or is everyone popping out babies?" Claire added, resting her head on my shoulder.

"It's just you," I assured her. "Why?" I asked slyly, and she stiffened at my tone of voice. "Are you liking the idea of popping out some babies?"

She made a choking sound, somewhere between a laugh and a snort. "God, no," she said. "No babies. Ever."

"Ever?" I asked, pulling back to stare at her. She didn't want kids? But… I'd been picturing her as the mother of my kids for a while now…

"Well, not ever," she retracted, eyeing the expression on my face. "Just not now. I can't stand the idea of kids now, but that doesn't mean things won't change…"

I was reassured somewhat. She was eighteen. I could hardly expect her to be thinking of having kids now. Stupid Quil. I didn't want to freak her out, simply because I had been thinking about this for a lot longer than she had.

"OK," I said, and hugged her again.

"And anyway," she said, a slightly hesitant tone to her voice, which made me curious, "just because we're not going to have kids right now doesn't mean that… eh… we can't, er, find out, er, what it's like to, eh, try…"

"Are you trying to tell me something," I asked, a grin spreading across my face. I had a fair idea of what she was trying to tell me. I pulled away once again to look at her; her face was bright red, and she looked like she wanted to dart immediately from the room.

"I… forget it-" she began, but I kissed her, and shut her up.

She was frozen for a half a second, before her hands gripped my shoulders and she kissed me back.

Ever since she'd moved in, I'd noticed things. Every time I stood too close to her, she got all jumpy and made some excuse to move away from me. Even when we were sitting together on the couch, watching a horror film, she was always fidgety, and seemed hyperaware of me. It was like I made her nervous, which was ridiculous, and quite funny.

Yet whenever I kissed her, she more or less attacked me.

I held back a laugh when she used all her strength to push me backwards, and I stumbled over my own feet and fell back against the counter.

She was the only one who could make me stumble over my own feet.

Her arms wound around my neck and she pressed herself closer to me, and then everything flew out of my head. My hands crept up her back and tangled in the ends of her hair, and she shivered. I smiled against her mouth, at the little things I did that affected her.

"BITCHES!"

I pulled away, groaning in exasperation. I was going to kill Embry. I looked down at Claire, who was flushed and dazed and murderous, too.

"WHERE ARE YE?"

"In here!" I called, unable to keep the annoyance from my voice. Claire moved away from me a little, but I put my arm around her waist to stop her from going very far. A moment later, Embry strolled into the room.

"HELLO!" he boomed, and Claire exhaled loudly.

"What?" I snapped, a bit too aggressively.

"Ooh, what's with you?" Embry said, putting his hands on his hips and raising his eyebrows. "Did I interrupt something? Sorry…"

"What do you want, Embry?" Claire sighed.

"You guys," he answered, grinning. "Come on, we're all going to the beach."

"The beach?" she asked.

"Yep. It's as hot as Megan Fox out there. So let's go!" he said enthusiastically, and bounded from the room.

I smiled at Claire. "Beach?" I inquired.

"Sure," she shrugged. "I'll get my bikini."

Her bikini?

"DO YOU GUYS HAVE ANY SUNSCREEN? I'LL FRY LIKE A TOMATO, OTHERWISE!"

The sun beat down on us; it was the hottest day of the year by far, for Forks, anyway. It was the middle of the summer, but it hadn't really felt like it until now. It was like the entire population was at La Push First Beach, sunbathing by stereos, playing volleyball, paddling and splashing each other in the sea. I was sprawled out in the sand next to Claire, enjoying the pleasant warmth, listening to Claire and her grumbling.

She wasn't used to hot weather, and she had stripped down to a bikini top and shorts, and I was trying not to make it obvious that I was checking her out. The heat was making her irritable, and I was her favourite person to torment with complaints. Of course, this was all rather amusing to me.

"Can't believe you let Embry use up all the sunscreen… if my skin starts peeling off tomorrow I'm coming after him. I swear to God…"

"Take it up with Embry," I said lazily. "I didn't let him do anything - I did nothing wrong."

She glared at me over the top of her sunglasses. "Knowing you, you probably stole some yourself. How come you don't have a giant mole for a head yet?"

"The sun doesn't bother me that much," I sniggered.

"Yeah, well, if I find out you've been using my sunscreen, something will be bothering you, believe me," she huffed, laying back down on her towel.

"Was that your way of threatening me?" I asked, grinning.

"Yes. Consider yourself threatened."

"OK," I laughed, closing my eyes. She was something else. I was suddenly sprayed with what felt like half the ocean, and my eyes flew open. Claire shrieked.

"Embry, what the-"

"My bad!" he said loudly, running his fingers through his soaking wet hair and shaking his head again. I rolled my eyes as I was consequently sprayed with more water. He and Paul and Jacob had been having a water fight in the sea - much to the delight of some girls sitting around watching.

"Embry, I swear - do you want a dent in your face?" Claire yelled, brushing the flecks of water off her skin. Ug.

"Cool your head, spitfire," Embry retorted. "It's just water."

Claire grumbled a load of profanities under her breath, which made me grin.

"Phew!" Embry exclaimed, throwing himself down in the sand next to me. "It's roasting today. I'm sweating like a paedophile in a crèche."

Claire sat up and glared at him in outrage.

"Embry! That is the nastiest thing I have ever heard in my life! Don't say shit like that, for God's sake!"

"Sorry," Embry said, holding up his hands in surrender. "It's just an expression."

"I have an expression for you," Claire sniffed. "Go to hell, or I'll send you there myself."

"I don't that's an expression, love," Embry patronised. "That sounded to me like a threat."

"She's been threatening everyone today," I interjected, grinning and waggling my eyebrows at her. She just glared murderously at us.

"I am not in the mood," she stated, and lay back down, folding her arms across her chest. Ung. I had to look away.

She was trying to torment me, by wearing that blasted bikini top. I'd never seen her in one before; there was never usually any cause for bikinis in Forks. Until today. Gah.

I sat up and looked out at the waves. Paul and Jacob were running out of the sea, water cascading off of them, wearing only soaking wet cut-offs, the girls watching practically falling over themselves in excitement. That made me grin. We were used to female attention, but the only female I ever cared about attention from was Claire. It made my day to catch her staring bug-eyed at me whenever I took my shirt off.

Paul and Jacob greeted us as they approached, and Embry sat up eagerly.

"Hey, Paul! Do your David Hasselhoff impression!"

Even Claire sat up to watch, and we all laughed as Paul began running in exaggerated slow motion, grinning and winking. I had to admit, it was very cool.

Jacob sat down next to Claire, and she sighed as she found herself sprayed with drops of water again.

"Hot today, huh, Claire?" he commented, smiling at her.

"You think?" she said moodily, brushing her hair off her shoulders.

Jacob raised his eyebrows at me amusedly, and I just rolled my eyes. We were used to Claire and her sarcasm and her moods by now. It was a rare occasion when they ever bothered anybody. They never bothered me; I always thought they were quite funny.

The day passed in pretty much the same way. The five of us just enjoyed the heat, talking about weekend plans and the people we knew, and reliving memories.

"Remember the time Claire got drunk…" Embry boomed at one point, grinning hugely. I started laughing.

Claire hid her face in her hands. "Shut up."

"All I seem to remember is you spending the whole night talking about willies," Embry sniggered.

"I did not, you utter asshole," Claire snapped, glaring at him through her fingers.

"Oh, so is that why you want a penis tattoo on your forehead?" I asked innocently, grinning at her.

All heads turned to stare at her interestingly.

"You're getting a tattoo?" Paul asked.

"You're getting a penis tattoo?" Jacob asked.

"You're getting a penis tattoo on your forehead?" Embry half-shouted.

"I'm moving out," Claire said, glaring at me.

"You know, I was right to worry about what you two talk about when you're alone," Embry said, shaking his head.

"Shut your face."

We all laughed, and Claire continued to blush as Embry launched into an exaggerated version of the story.

I was quiet, mostly, thinking of what could happen in the future. I planned on spending it with Claire, every second of it. And as for the marriage and kids… that could all come later.

I did have my proposal already planned out.

I was amazing like that.

I was going to propose here, on the beach. We spent most of our time here when she was little, building sandcastles and exploring the caves, and as years went on, this was our favourite haunt for walking and just hanging out together. It was perfect.

And I was going to have everyone she knew there. Yes, even Embry, to no doubt wreck the moment. But I wouldn't be without him, either. And I'd ask her family, too, because she was on good terms with her sister and father and his family now, and it would be a way of bringing everyone together.

I planned on proposing on her twenty-first birthday, because any time after that would just be stupid. Her twenty-first was going to be unforgettable, I'd make sure of that.

And there would be flowers and doves.

And a Mariachi band.

I could not wait to see her face.

See how amazing I am? I have it all thought out.

Until then, I was just planning on living.

Claire was my entire life, and I was dedicated to keeping her safe, keeping her happy, keeping her all to myself.

I looked over at my beautiful girl, and she smiled at me.

Hot damn, I was one lucky guy.

One really, really good looking, lucky guy.

XD

First off: THANK YOU SO FREAKING MUCH FOR THE REVIEWS! I tried to thank everyone, if you didn't find yourself thanked, consider yourself thanked now! They were seriously amazing and funny and random and I'm a little sad that I won't hear from a lot of you again - but just be happy in the knowledge that I think you all rock.

SEQUEL NEWS! Right. I was bugged by various people to write a sequel. So I brainstormed. Nothing seemed to work, and I decided not to force out a story. Then it hit me. I've already started writing it. Get ready for... A SPIN OFF. EMBRY STYLE.

Totally. It'll be the same Embry from this, same Quil and Claire and Paul and Jacob - same everyone. It'll just be Embry's imprinting story. So that should be fun. I hope I'll hear from most of you again when I eventually get it posted!

OK, well... so that's all. Oh, I saw the film, finally... I loved it, actually. I mean, of course it was no book, but did anyone really expect that? I was afraid they were gonna make a balls of Twilight, but for what it was, it rocked. Rob Pattinson is hot. Ug. But Emmett, or Kellan, made that film for me. He's just scrumptious. Maybe I'm biased, I just love Emmett to pieces. He's just my type... anyway. I'm so buying that movie when it comes out on DVD. Too right.

Well, thank you so much for reading my story, which I so did not expect to do as well as it has, thank you for the THOUSAND REVIEWS, HOLY HELL, THAT WAS UNREAL! To all my fabulous reviewers, each and every one of you has made it so worth it. Thank you again for reading the randomness that comes out of my head.

Now, off you go and write me a big long review. You know you want to.

LOTS OF LOVE! x x x Lea :D x x x