CATALINA, paul lahote

SAM ULEY's B&B

[ alternatively : still? ]

CATALINA SWAN HAD STAYED; OF COURSE SHE HAD. HER AND PAUL TUMBLING INTO SAM's spare room, arms wrapping around each other like they never had before - his face burying into her neck. He needed her, and she'd stay as long as he did. There were no glowing stars, no bedsheets that smelt so like him she sometimes would bury her face in the pillow a second longer as she woke (because most of the time she really, really didn't want to leave).

But it was them; in a way that they had never been before and it terrified Cata. Well and fucking truly terrified her.

She was scared; scared that he would resent her - scared he felt he had to love her because the spirits had chosen them to go together like a lucky dip of their names and their names only.

But none of that crossed her mind as the boy beside her woke with trembled gasps while the crescent moon hung in the sky, his hand searching for her in the darkness as he felt his throat choke up. She woke not soon after, pulling herself up, sleep blearing her eyes as she tried to squint through the black to understand what had woke her, his hand clutching at her shirt, at her skin while he tried to strangle a gasp.

She could've sworn he had said he name.

She worried for a second that he was phasing, a flash of fear crossing her face before she realised he wasn't shaking with anger - he was crying. He had phased a total of seven times before he had finally settled down for the night - every mention of vampires, every mention of his father, every goading dig Jared would give Cata.

But never aimed at her. Never at Cata.

Cata flicked the lamp on, eyebrows pulling together at the sight of the boy. The duvet had pooled around his waist, and he was almost shivering despite the warmth that radiated from him. He was crying. And he was gasping for breath like he had been held underwater.

"Paul." She murmured, scrambling up from where she lay when she realised what was happening, hands reaching out for his shoulders.

He jerked back almost in surprise. "Don't." His voice sounded weak, tears streaming down his cheeks as he hurried away from her touch. Her hand dropped onto the bed.

"What's wrong?" She asked, lifting herself so she was kneeling in front of him. "Do you need me to get you water?"

He shook his head, "I don't want to hurt you."

"Baby." Cata's voice cracked, lifting her hands to skim over his cheeks, her thumbs moving without really thinking to wipe the tears that had gathered into the crevices of his skin. "It wasn't your fault."