Little thing I was compelled to write. Leah as seen through Sam's eyes.
Deep down, he's glad he imprinted on someone else.
Emily is sweet, mild, domestic. He has tied her to a lifetime in La Push, and she doesn't mind. He never could have forgiven himself for doing the same to Leah.
Leah is fire. She can spread her warmth or burn everything in her path. Back in simpler, summer days, she would spin. With her arms stretched out wide to her sides and head bent back to the sky, she would spin in circles in the dewy grass until she was so dizzy he had to catch her to keep her from falling to the ground. She would gaze up at him with wide innocent eyes and a shy smile, beautiful, but her face was never so lovely as it was when she twirled freely, around and around.
She is a different kind of fire now. She pushes and pulls and leaves nothing but ashes in her wake. And yet… He looks in her angry, blazing eyes and knows that someday she won't love him anymore (this should bring him relief, but it doesn't).
She thinks he imprinted on Emily because the fates have deemed her not enough for him.
But he knows better.
(He never deserved her. And anyone in that town with half a brain knows it, too.)
Leah will stop loving him someday. And then she will leave. She'll blaze through other towns, other cities, other countries, the whole damn world. He will rot in La Push. But it's alright, Emily doesn't mind.
He knows fire can't be contained forever. Eventually one must extinguish it completely.
Or let it burn free.