This is the interlude chapter from Dear Diary, and will begin our snippets with Quil. I'm reposting it here for convenience sake.
I hope to have more of Quil up soon, but I'm having trouble getting this site to accept new documents.
She is my light and my joy. Everything that ties me to the world is wrapped up in her. Her laughter is a balm that can soothe any pain; her tears can shred my soul. My only purpose is to be what she needs, however she needs me.
That is how I've always felt, from the moment I saw her. The pack understood. How could they not when we share the same mind so much of the time? They could see for themselves that this was no romantic love. Jacob said that it's like gravity. I guess that's as close as any explanation could get.
For the longest time my love for her was pure and untainted by desire. Her dimpled smile was enough of a reward for any action, and I wanted nothing more from her than to be allowed to be around her and cherish her.
Now though... Now it's different. Of course I noticed her growing and changing. Subconsciously I was constantly adjusting myself to fit her needs - to care for her, be her brother, her friend, her confidant. I know that deep inside I hoped that one day, when she was fully grown, that she might choose to accept me as her partner, as her lover. In the future, not now. Now she is innocent. I try to pretend and fool myself into thinking that nothing has changed, and she still sees me as the goofy guy who will do nearly anything to make her laugh. But it's not working.
I know just when it changed for me - when I couldn't ignore it anymore. We were in the living room, rolling around on the floor because I'd made some teasing comment. I remember feeling mildly surprised at the look that crossed her face before she broke into a wicked grin and launched herself at me, promising revenge. I put up a good fake fight, but eventually let her win. It was no fun if I won all the time. And as she straddled me, poking me and calling me a sissy, it hit me and all the air was sucked out of the room.
I wanted her. Desperately. I wanted to keep her there, right where she was, her body on mine. So I did the only thing I could do: I put her off me and left as soon as I reasonably could after that, and I ran. I phased and I ran, my paws pounding the ground as I tried to pound the longing out of my heart.
The pack knew immediately, of course. As soon as my mind joined theirs they knew it all. We have no secrets, no matter how much we might want to. They saw my shame, but they didn't judge me. They couldn't, not when they saw the compulsion that drove me. It's inescapable, not that I would want to change it if I could. She has been a part of me for far too long for me to even consider changing it now.
I stayed away, knowing it was hurting her for me to be gone, but I couldn't face her. I had to gain control of my emotions so I could be around her and touch her without losing myself and doing or saying something I would regret. She is still a child, even if her body looks more womanly every day. I could not risk hurting her like that.
And now... now she's crying and telling me that I'm driving her crazy. And Emily is telling me that she's falling in love with me. But she's too young! She's only just turned 14. As much as I want her I can't expose her to the scorn that society would heap upon us if I let myself love her now. I want that more than anything, but I have no choice but to wait.
It's a special kind of torture, being around someone like that. Limiting your touches to friendly gestures while the fantasies run wild in your head. It's a torture I will gladly undergo for her sake.
I will tell her what I am. I used to fear that telling her would send her running for the hills. I've put it off for nearly two years now, stealing what time I can with her. Emily assures me that knowing will bring her relief. I hope she's right, because I can't avoid it any longer.