And if it's bad now, Leah thinks, watching Jacob braid Renesmee's hair with his too big, too clumsy, too careful, too loving hands, what will it be like in a few months or a few years or whenever she looks like she's seventeen even though she's really seven, and Leah never was all that clear on how this whole half-vampire thing worked really, and wouldn't it be wrong (but what does wrong even mean anyway?) in a few moths or a few years when he touched her and she touched him and Leah doesn't know which of those is worse, the him-touching or the her-touching and she can't think about it but she can't do anything but think about it.
And Jacob wonders why she hardly ever transforms anymore.
Because it's not only that, what he'd hear in her thoughts.
What she would hear in his would be a thousand times worse.
It was bad enough to hear Sam think about Emily.
And the things in her imagination are horrible enough as it is.
She doesn't need this.
a/n: Yes. I have written Twilight fanfic. It is true. I should probably go curl up in a nice pleasant cave and die now. I really never thought I would. I blame meeker004 and her AMAZING stories, which almost totally inspired this. Also, that one chapter in Naomi and Ely's No-Kiss List where it's boy-Robin and it's like five pages and it's all one sentence. Stellar. Awesome book, too. Y'all should check it out. After you review this.