Pretty Boy: Paul Lahote Love Story

Cataclysm

Edited 7/9/22.

A/N: This chapter contains mild swearing, mentions of blood, implied sexual content, a mild panic attack, and vomiting. Viewer discretion is advised.

Also: We've reached the final arc of this story. After this chapter, there are nine more. And then it's done! So buckle up-- we're in the homestretch!

***

"I might've overindulged a bit these last few days," Marshall states while grabbing a pair of shades. "They're going to think I murdered someone while we were gone."

"I mean, it is your natural instinct. And since you aren't part of the coven anymore, you wouldn't necessarily need to keep abiding by their rules. I know you wouldn't actually kill someone for that, but still. I'm just saying." Paul shrugs, twiddling with a random strand of hair. "Maybe they'd react better to you feeding off strangers instead of feeding off me."

Chuckling, the vampire slides on his tinted glasses. The action effectively shields his scarlet irises.

Although his diet still mainly consists of forest animals, he's given himself the frequent opportunity of imbibing from a... particularly eager source.

Marshall's instinctual urges have been running around rampant—screaming at him to stake a claim on what's rightfully his. Incidentally, the same has been happening to Paul. Neither of them are sure if it's because of the way their relationship has been growing, or if it's because they've returned to the comfortable, intimate space of their own home after being gone for so long.

Either way, ever since the couple came back from their honeymoon, the wolf has grown more and more needy. He's found great pleasure in being his husband's occasional source of food. Smug gratification increases with each feeding session, Paul openly relishing at the knowledge that his blood is the most satisfying for his partner.

Marshall's ravenous desire to continuously fulfill the request—seeing as he's never been one to deny his lover—has led to the current situation happening with his eyes.

He's noticed how previously unhinged reactions toward blood have become more tame. Every indulging meal makes it easier for the vampire to stay lucid while in his most feral state.

At least, that's his justification for being a little more reckless than normal.

The honest yet comedic thought lingers as the couple walk into the Cullen household.

They're both hit by a distinct sweet coppery scent, along with Ness' creamy aroma and Jake's muted fragrance of dog. A pungent smell of cookies causes Marshall to have a fleeting thought about Emily, the two routinely making sweets together as a shared hobby.

His sneakers are gentle against hardwood stairs. A smooth railing is warm against his hand. The world is tinged in a darker complexion because of his glasses.

Having partially obstructed vision is rather annoying, but it's better than frightening anyone with such a drastic change in eye color.

Marshall peeks his head into the second floor family room. He's met with the sight of Renesmee, Jacob, Emmett, and Rosalie playing a dance game together. The others are sprinkled around the room on multiple couches as they watch the close scores climbing higher and higher. A familiar pop song is on, and Ness is huffing while giving her all in terms of her dancing.

Marshall immediately notices that his niece has gotten bigger.

She's taller. She's put on a little weight. The young girl closely resembles an eight year old—which is surprising since, last time they saw each other, Renesmee looked like she was five.