The idea for this came to me earlier today, and like most of my ideas, refused to go away till I wrote it down. I didn't want to babble on through a long one-shot, and so was inspired by lilabut and audreyii_fic's amazing drabbles. It was the perfect way to get this out quickly and less painfully than a long drawn-out one-shot.

I

"Let me know if you want me to come back, and I'll be here," I'd promised him.

The days brought silence, which I'd resignedly taken to mean stay away.

But I needed my sun to balance out the icy chill that had uncomfortably settled in my bones.

II

"Love you, Jacob."

"Love you more."

Those final words haunted me.

I needed to fix this or I'd be tormented forever.

III

As I approached the familiar red house, it appeared smaller, its color dimmed.

The truck's gears shifted up in speed and roared into the driveway as if it recognized its first home.

There was no answer when I knocked, but the handle turned in my hand easily and I let myself in.

Quiet echoed as I peered into the small front room and crept to the barren kitchen.

IV

The slightest sound caught my ears as I began to leave and close the front door behind me.

A sigh, a moan; indistinctly came from the closed bedroom door.

"Jake?" I slowly swung the door open.

V

Black shaggy hair fanned across his pillow.

Coppery hands gripped tightly onto slim hips undulating on his prone form.

"Mmmm, taxa. Libiti. So big, so good."

The girl whispered native words strewn together with familiar ones as she rocked on top of him.

His languid black eyes opened and quickly shone with panic as I ran from the house.

VI

I covered my ears at the predictable tapping at my window in the dark.

I had no right to feel cheated, but I did.

I wished I knew what I wanted from him. Whatever it was, I knew he would give it to me.

But he had already given away what I regrettably realized I wanted from him now.

VII

On the seventh night, I unlocked the latch and lit two candles.

White for the promise of innocence lost. Red for my heart and the hope for forgiveness.

He crept silently inside. Apologies whispered in quiet relief.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Sshhhhh.

VIII

Revenge gently stroked with tan fingertips into forgiveness, jealousy resolutely caressed to absolution.

Soft, warm kisses changed hurt to desire.

Tan hands contrasted against bared fair skin brought amazing clarity.

Rhythmic thrusts chased doubts away.

IX

A peace settled over me as the answers became clear.

Why are the simplest things so hard to see?

A/N: The Native American words were taken from a Quileute website. I changed the spelling on one of them, just to make it phonetically English.