𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

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┏━━━━⋆。゚☁︎。⋆☾ ゚。⋆━━━━┓

ENEMY LINES


AUGUSTINE REALLY HATED PAUL.

For the next couple of days following their last encounter, the young vampire would often return to the creek side, where she knew he'd most likely be, simply out of spite.

It was almost like a competition of who could anger the other one more, and as the days went on, she saw less and less of the other two wolves; Paul kept coming back. In a game Augustine dubbed 'who'll be the first to leave angry', the score settled on a 5 to 2 in her favour.

Seeing him fuming out in anger from small jabs was usually the highlight of her day, and it made returning to the creek even more addicting than it already was. Sometimes he would already be there, steadily waiting, or sometimes Augustine would arrive earlier than usual just to throw him off; on those kinds of days, she usually found herself victorious.

They were in the middle of a spat that afternoon, the overcast weather being truly symbolic of both the wolf and the vampire's feelings. She was actively trying to get her sixth win in a row, really wanted to make him seethe because in her mind, it was all in good fun; until it wasn't, hence the two losses that Augustine took throughout the week.

Those two days were the days she just itched to break the treaty, that's how angry she had felt. But, they usually settled for petty arguments and smug glances. 

"Do you even own any shirts? Seriously, is this the third time you've come here half naked?"

"You like looking at my chest, or something?" Oh, she could practically hear the smirk on his face.

"It's kinda hard not to look when you're flaunting your abs to the world, buddy."

Sometimes, he acted angry, sometimes insufferable, but on that gloomy afternoon, he settled on something else: blind aggravation.

He was already there when she had arrived, and she could practically see the steam that rolled off of him. It seemed as though he had arrived already quite angry, and Augustine made a mental note to leave sooner rather than later if things turned south.

Although he couldn't shift on the Cullens territory, there was nothing stopping him from coming over in his human body and starting a scrap. So, yes, she pushed him like she always did, but had started holding back only the slightest once Carlisle had informed her of the many treaty clauses.

Besides, she was supposed to meet back with the others in a little while for a game of baseball— with the addition of Bella Swan joining them.
She figured there was no better way to destress than argue with the shifter, but underestimated just how aggravated he was that afternoon.

"You spend a lot of time out here, always keeping tabs on me," she said, a fake smile plastered on her face as she stared at him from across the divide in the forest. "I'm super flattered, by the way."

Paul's lip curled up defensively. "Is being self-absorbed your only personality trait," he questioned aloud, tacking on a, "or are you just a plain old killer?"

The way he spit it out with such nonchalance had Augustine's face shuttering. Even despite his nonchalant question, she could see the fire swirling in his brown eyes and clicked her tongue against her cheek. "You don't know what you're talking about, dog," she snarled, secretly relishing in the twitch of his eye at the nickname.

But that didn't deter him as he pressed further. "How many people have you killed, August?"

A chill ran up her spine as he said her name, spoken with so much disdain that it made her stomach churn. She found that she didn't like that nickname when it came from him in such a tone; it reminded her of her mother. "It's Augustine, you tool," she snapped, masking her discomfort with anger. She wouldn't let him win, wouldn't let him see just how far he could really push her. "And I'm not a killer."

"I think you're lying to me."

Augustine's jaw locked, voice trapped in her throat as she stared at him. Of course she had lied to him; only those who needed to know actually knew about the horrific acts she had commit in Alaska, and Paul was certainly not one of those people. He just happened to hit the nail on the head with that question, and the ravenette was scrambling to cover it up.

The discomfort roared to life, her nails digging into her palms to ground herself. "I'm not a killer," she repeated, voice sounding significantly quieter than it did when she first starting pestering the older boy.

Paul was unhappy with that response, taking a taunting step towards the very edge of the creek on the reservation side of the woods. "C'mon, you can be honest with me; I won't tell a soul," but the smirk on his face told her otherwise.

It was one thing to call each other names, make little jabs that were so blindly petty— but Paul had no idea just how loaded his question was. He knew little to nothing about this girl aside from her name which he'd gotten from Sam, the older man hearing the other Cullens address her as such, so he figured everything was fair game.

"You're being mean," she mumbled, just low enough to be heard by the boy. She found she didn't like this game of theirs, suddenly, and cursed whatever higher power had paired the two of them up.

Rosalie was right; she just needed to outlive him, wait for a next one... if there even was such a thing, she thought bitterly.

His eyes narrowed in her direction. "You started it," he scoffed petulantly, and had he stomped his foot against the earth, Augustine would've thought he resembled a stubborn child.

"And now I'm ending it," she snapped, ignoring the way his face pinched in confusion for a beat. She did, however, watch as his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water before nothing came out.

Augustine had glanced at her watch, the time alerting her that she had three minutes to sprint back to the house and prepare for the baseball game that she would merely be a spectator in. Volleyball was her sport when she was a human, would've had a scholarship lined up in no time had she stayed human, and baseball was nothing like it. The rules were vastly different and so were the plays; thus, she had settled on keeping Esme company during the last two games she went to alongside the family.

Looking up from her watch, she noticed Paul's eyes tracking her movements. She wouldn't let him see her defeated; she would rather settle on a tied game than walk away with her chin wobbling despite how close she felt to doing so.

With a final look at the shifter, she gave him a wave and plastered on a convincing smile. "See you next time, wolfy."

The ravenette didn't wait to hear his response, simply darting back through the forest the same way she came, and prepared to supervise the Cullens baseball game.

And while she did so, she tried not to think about the fact that Bella would likely be spectating, too, given the aggressive nature of the games.

But she mentally noted that she should try to find a pair of nose plugs to dull her sense of smell. Yeah, that would work in the meantime.


⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆

[ wyn's note ]

prepare for a double update, you guys! next chapter of this double feature will actually be from paul's POV, just to shake things up a bit hehe

hope you guys are enjoying this thus far! and thanks for 400 reads :) all love xx!

𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑, paul lahote ✓Where stories live. Discover now