003. Madness and Honey

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Paul was confused. And angry. And also wanted nothing more than to see Saskia. His imprint. He had checked the cafe more than twice a day in hopes of catching her there. It was Wednesday now, three days since he had found her in the forest. He was itching to see her, he was on his seventh visit to the cafe that day. The bell rang as he entered again, the ringing starting to become annoying as of how often he had heard it the last few days. Paul's eyes immediately went to the counter and scoured the length of it in the hopes of spotting some platinum blonde hair tied up neatly and attached to her pretty head. Christ, he was already consumed by her.

"She works Fridays and weekends, sweetheart"

Paul snapped his head to the left where an older woman was cleaning the tables, his train of thought interrupted as she spoke softly to him.

"Sorry?" He asked, not having heard her the first time due to the image of Saskia invading his mind.

"Saskia, she only works Fridays and weekends." She politely told him, standing up straight and holding a hand on her hip as she watched his cheeks heat in embarrassment. He could see her name badge now, Ria, it read. "That is who you've been looking for these past days, haven't you?"

"Yes- I, Sorry, uhm... Thank you" Paul stumbled over his words, his ears heating up after she had just called him out. He sighed, putting his head down as he tried as best he could to show little disappointment.

"She's such a lovely person, such a shame what happened to her mother. That poor girl, so troubled." Ria mumbled, a sympathetic look on her face as she thought of her favourite employee. Paul frowned. His stomach hurt and his chest ached at just the thought of his imprint feeling so much pain. "You better treat that girl right, young man." She said sternly, a pointed look on her face.

"No we- we're not, I'm not-" He stopped mid-sentence. "I will, thank you, Ria" Paul smiled gently and walked out the door, his stomach bundled with nerves. Frustration crept up his veins, anger coursing through him. He felt so angry, angry at the world, how cruel it had been to his poor girl.

She's not yours. That voice nagged him, slapping him with reality, Saskia wasn't his, no matter how right it seemed, he couldn't have her yet. The realisation irked him, he shook. And ran. Ran into the forest, into his wolf form, and weaved through the trees, freeing himself from the brutality of the world.






The Cullens had left, no note, no email, no text, no phone call. Nothing, they had up and left Forks, and if Saskia felt insane before she had no idea what she was feeling now. Her head was a mess. It was Friday, she was working as usual, but the cafe felt so empty with no Alice and her tea and no Rosalie with her black coffee. The order had been disrupted again. Just to make things worse, Jake was still ignoring her. He'd run off with Bella Swan, of course. Sas couldn't help but be bitter, her best friend taken by someone else. Absolutely smitten with the mysterious girl. She also felt jealous that Jake was so obviously in love with her, at one point in her life from the ages of ten to twelve, Saskia had a crush on Jacob Black. It was bound to happen, they had been friends so long and she had watched him grow into a boy, a boy she thought was going to marry one day. Though that soon fizzled out as she grew older and learned that no matter what age, boys were lying, dirty creatures.

That thought didn't stop her from admiring boys though, like now as Paul Lahote entered the cafe at his usual time, she couldn't help but let her eyes wonder over the tall boy. Nineteen, tall and broad. His white shirt fit him snug, tighter than it would have only a month ago. Although she couldn't complain as she caught sight of his biceps, strong and would surely crush her frail frame without breaking a sweat. Although it was late September and starting to become cold, she saw no sight of a jacket with him, his tan skin on display and deliciously mouthwatering. He was at the counter by the time she had stopped gawking, looking down at her with a gentle smile. His eyes were a dark storm as they seemed to stare through her. She knew he was an angry boy, but she saw nothing but smooth and sweet. Chocolate.

Road of the Lonely Ones ✸ Paul LahoteOnde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora