Disclaimer: Not mine.
She doesn't have to look up. It's just going to be another sympathetic glance. She can hear it in the whiny way he's saying her name. She wonders why he doesn't just leave her alone. Is it really so hard to just let her be?
God, why won't he just say it?
She narrows her eyes and stares straight through him. It's not a lie, but it's not the truth either. Yes, he's sorry, but he has Emily because of it. And so, really, he's not sorry. He just picked up and left her. Was it really so easy?
"No, you're not."
He's not getting the words out. He's a coward. Figures. No wonder he never tried to break free from the stupid imprinting curse. He was comfortable, and she knows now that that's all he ever wanted. He knows Emily will never leave him, and so he's got it all sorted out. She wasn't even worth trying for.
I don't want you. She can feel those words at the tip of her tongue. I don't want you. I don't want you. I don't want you.
But he's too scared to say them.
They just don't get it. She doesn't care about their words and their attempts to make everything better. Why can't they just pretend that nothing ever happened like she's trying to? She may be lying to herself, but it doesn't seem to be fooling any of them.
Emily. Sweet, sweet Emily. Stole her boyfriend and is now trying to smooth everything out.
It's a repeat. The same thing over and over again. She's so damn sick of it. Like apologising is going to change everything. Apologising is going to make the past the past.
She's not sorry. Not really. She got Sam because of it.
"No, you're not."
She has the words stuck down somewhere in some deep dark corner that Sam doesn't know about. Because Emily isn't always sweet. Love blinds you to all flaws, so maybe it's a good thing that Leah's done with it all. Another lie.
He never loved you, she can feel at the tip of her tongue. He never loved you. He never loved you. He never loved you.
But she cares too much to say them.
Again. What is it this time, Embry? Another 'I'm sorry'? Another heartfelt attempt to mend things. What do you want? Why do you care? She leans on her elbow. She's just tired. So tired. Of lies, of hearts, of being broken. It never ends, does it?
"Stop being such a bitch."
There it's out. And this makes Leah sit up straighter. Makes her eyes widen. Makes her look at him, not through him. And she finds that she's not angry. She is a bitch. She knows it's what the pack has been wanting to say for a long, long time. And now he's finally telling her.
"Say it again."
This makes him blink. A crease forms between his dark eyebrows, and he stares at her suspiciously. He wants to say it again. It's almost tangible how much he wants to say it again. It's something that has been on his mind for far too long, bottled up and hidden behind things that were more important. But always there.
"Stop. Being. Such. A. Bitch. What do you want me to say? That Sam never wanted you? That Sam never loved you? Just get over it, Leah. Grow up."
The words come out in a rush and linger on his tongue afterwards. He's relishing getting it all out of him. And he's got his determined mask on. He's prepared for any firing back from the female werewolf in front of him. He's wrong.
"You're telling the truth."
It's a statement not a question, and an obvious one at that. He stares at her confused, his defence slips slightly, and she takes the time to voice out what she's been wanting to say for quite some time now.
"That's all I've wanted to hear. Just the truth."
He looks at her strangely, cocking his head to the side, and she's almost sure he's going to take it all back. That he's going to become a clone of the rest of them, but he doesn't. Instead he sits down next to her, the rough grass cutting into his palms as he places them down, not that he can feel that, of course. Nothing hurts when you're a werewolf.
"I'm here to please, aren't I?" He jokes, hard edge to his voice. She gazes at him with analytical eyes, then lays down on the grass, her back scraping the unkempt lawn.
"They aren't lying to you, Leah." He says, quietly, no more bitterness in his voice. He pulls his knees up to his chest and sits there, staring up into the blue sky.
"Really?" The skeptical tone in her voice makes him shake his head.
"You know, I feel sorry for you."
She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, poor little Leah. Her cousin ran off with her boyfriend. I don't need your pity, Call." It's said more harshly than she intended, but it's not something that she can contain. She's sick of people feeling sorry for her. She doesn't need another one.
"Not because of that," he shoots her an annoyed look. "The whole world doesn't revolve around you."
She watches the clouds past, not saying a word. This is one of the things that she always liked about Embry. If there was anything to like about him in the first place. He tells things like they are. Doesn't sugarcoat anything. Some people find that kind of thing unnerving, but it's something that she's always admired about him. He's still an idiot either way, but that's one of the things that she appreciates about him.
He continues. "I feel sorry for you because when it comes down to it, it's all a defence mechanism."
She sits up abruptly, "What?"
"This whole blocking everyone else out and making yourself seem superior to everyone else around you. You're not the only with feelings, Leah. Sam and Emily, they have them to. You need to learn to get over yourself, and to stop bombarding the pack with images of you and Sam together. You're not doing yourself any favours."
"Oh yeah, Embry." She remarks, furiously. "Because it's just that easy to forget about it all. To forget everything that the both of us had. Don't talk to me about things that you have no experience in, Call."
"I'm not saying that you need to forget those memories." He says, more calmly, throwing a handful of green grass into the air. "I'm just saying that you need to stop blaming everyone for something they had no control over. And you need to stop being so paranoid all the time. I hear it in your thoughts sometimes. How you think Sam and Emily are lying to you when they apologise. Seriously? Do you think that if Sam had any control whatsoever on this whole imprint thing he wouldn't change everything? He wouldn't make you his imprint? He loves you, Leah, but this whole imprint thing, well, it's an impossible situation. The other person never wins."
It's only then that she realises just how sad he looks. Devastated, even. He plucks more grass from the ground, rather angrily, and tosses it into the air where the wind blows it away.
Leah knows that she's treading on thin ice with the next question, but even so, how was it that she'd never picked up on it before?
"Who was she?" There's a hint of curiosity in her voice, but not enough to scare him away. She's not taunting him. How could she? Not if he's in the same position she's in at the moment. Even she, with all her harsh words and hard looks, isn't that cruel.
"Does it even matter now?" He sounds lost, and not like the confident, honest Embry Call that she's used to.
"How come...?" She doesn't know if he'll even answer her. If there's any point in her asking, so maybe she shouldn't. Maybe she should just forget about this whole incident, and then the two of them can go back to how it was before their secret, little heart to heart. But he's finishing her words before she can pretend that she wasn't asking, and he forces her to hold onto them.
"How come you never knew? How come the pack didn't know? Clearwater, just because you can't keep a secret, doesn't mean I can't. It's not really something that I wanted people acknowledging. I'm just better at hiding it than most people."
"I'm sorry." The words are out before they even compute in her mind. She's just said those two words that she hates people saying to her. She's just said them, and she's meant them. She expects him to snort, to give her some rude retort about how much of a hypocrite she is. Hell, she wouldn't be surprised if he got up and just walked away from her. But he doesn't. He doesn't even look angry, like she would have been, just empty.
"I know." He replies, no hidden agenda in his voice. Just understanding. And she can't understand how he can be so calm about it all when she feels like there's a time bomb ticking in her chest, ready to explode at any second.
"It just hurts, you know." She says in a small voice, because this is the closest to breaking down she's ever gotten. This is the only time she's ever let her wall down. It's the scariest thing in the world, she thinks, but it just might be worth it. If someone understands then at least you have someone there to share the burden.
"Yeah." He whispers, and it's all he needs to say. It's enough, because they both have something in common, they both know what it's like to feel damaged. But at least they have one another.
They lie there, backs on the grass, without saying a word. It's a peaceful silence. They don't need words and consolations. Just the quiet environment of their surroundings. It's something the both have been striving for, something they both need.
If only because it makes them feel a little less alone in the world.
If only because it makes them feel a little less empty.
A/N: I don't know where my inspiration has come from, but I've decided on finishing all of my unfinished oneshots. My first Embry/Leah. Heehee. I despise the end in this one, but it was tougher than I thought it was going to be. Initially, I had no idea whatsoever on how I was going to end it. But I got there, I guess. I would love some reviews! Please?