Pretty Boy: Paul Lahote Love Story

Severance

Edited 6/9/22.

A/N: This chapter contains swearing.

***

Marshall is fiddling with one of his acoustic guitars when he hears the front door open downstairs. Edward's scent reappears. Quiet voices shuffle between one another in response to his presence. Random noises from plucked guitar strings become louder in an attempt at drowning out any conversation. It'd be great to not deal with any more drama tonight.

Bella's birthday was a complete disaster. Incessant fighting while she was getting stitched up only made things worse. The house continued to feel stagnant even after she left.

Overall, the night has just been a total clusterfuck.

Marshall finds his fingers moving in a sluggish manner. He isn't paying attention to the notes he's plucking; and his guitar makes random noises against the silence of his loft. Dissonant sounds help keep him occupied.

He knows that someone in the family is going to confront him at some point. Both for not doing more to help Bella, and for not deescalating the tense situation between his coven mates.

Since he's one of the physically older members of the family, it's expected of him to be a voice of reason in big situations. That's how it was when they confronted Laurent's coven. And that's how it's expected to stay—because that's how it's been for years.

Now that Marshall's decided to put his foot down about what's expected of him versus what he actually wants to do, rifts are becoming larger and larger. They're probably only going to continue doing so with the way issues have been developing.

Annoyed thoughts are interrupted by his phone going off. A tired gaze falls to the device sitting face down on the cushion beside him. He places the mahogany colored instrument onto the floor, leaning it against the sofa. The phone is grabbed with a single hand. A short text message is met with a frown.

Rose:

Could you come downstairs? There are some things we need to discuss as a family.

Marshall doesn't bother sending a reply. He tosses the device down onto a random cushion before rising to his feet. He slides on his black house slippers with the pointed cat ears on them.

His pace is slow and lazy. Tension coming from downstairs can be felt clear as day. It makes him not want to go, but he knows if he doesn't then someone will just come upstairs to get him.

His jaw clenches. Arched eyebrows furrow. Both hands are pulled into tight fists in the large single pocket of a hoodie too big to be his own.

Descending the first floor staircase, Marshall comes face to face with his family's hard expressions. They've chosen to stand around the room rather than sit on any designated furniture pieces. Edward is facing outside through one of the large tinted windows making up the front wall. Carlisle is standing in the center of the room with his body stiff as a board. Everyone else is huddled in a small group a few feet away. Marshall stays near the staircase after stepping off of the last platform.

"...What's this about?"

"What happened tonight with Bella was... unfortunate, to say the least. It could've ended a lot worse than it did. She could've been killed." Edward continues speaking with his back turned. "...I've come to the realization that it was a mistake for me to fall in love with her. Us being here is only going to continue to cause problems. So the family has decided it's time for us to leave Forks."

Marshall's eyes widen. "Excuse me? And when did 'the family' decide this- because I certainly didn't."

"Marshall," Carlisle chimes in, "you witnessed first hand the extent of Bella's injuries. She could've gotten hurt worse than she was. Edward's right- her being around us is detrimental to both her safety and ours. We all could've had a slip up tonight. On top of that, people at the hospital are starting to notice that I'm not aging. It would be in everyone's best interest if we left. We're a family and-"