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LIFE OF A BENCHWARMER
THE CULLENS MOVED FAST AND WITH INTENT WHEN NIGHT FELL.
Carlisle's plan was simple; Alice and Jasper were going to drive Bella somewhere safe while the others were going to throw the tracker off his course. Only, the others meant everyone but Augustine, who whined petulantly when the blond man told her.
"You're benching me? At a time like this? That's so not fair!"
He only turned to her with a sympathetic look on his face. "You're still too young for this sort of thing," he told her, handing Esme a piece of Bella's clothing as he spoke. He gently caressed the top of her head as he said, "it's for your own benefit, Augustine."
Before she could even scoff out a reply, the coven was dispersing within the second. At least Emmett had the decency to look sad that she wasn't joining them, squeezing her shoulder in solidarity before eventually darting out of the garage.
Standing alone, Augustine couldn't help but wrap her arms around herself as she stared at the opened garage door. It was only when the main light turned off with a click that she began moving back into the home, shoulders hunched and in absolutely no mood for a puzzle.
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Hours came and gone before she even got word of what was happening, Augustine's eyes glued to the clock that ticked forward painfully slow. Her phone buzzed to life in the pocket of the hoodie she was wearing, an oversized one that she found in Emmett's closet.
And speaking of, it was the boy himself whose caller ID was splayed on the screen. She couldn't help but answer it eagerly, "give me an update dude, I'm dying here."
There was a sigh on the other end of the line, one that sent the young girl sinking further into the couch she was curled up on. "The tracker changed his course... we're headed up to Phoenix," he told the car, and the familiar hum of Rosalie's car speeding in the background was a testament to that. "I'll update you when I can, Aug, but—"
"Save Bella first, then talk later," she interrupted him, "I'll hold down the fort here, don't worry."
Only, the minute she disconnected the call, the quietness of being home alone was just getting a bit much for her.
Even when she had been human, she couldn't stand being by herself; she'd even been left for dead last year, was about to die alone until Carmen bit her before her heart gave its final beat. She was lucky she hadn't woke up alone, then, too.
The brunette was eager to find something to occupy her mind away from the impending doom that was bound to befall upon Bella Swan, so she managed to find her sketchbook and some spare pencil crayons that Esme always kept in the kitchen. Packing the supplies into a small bag, she took one last glance at the home before practically flinging herself out the back door.
Then, she was off in the direction of the creek; because if she was going to be alone, she'd at least be alone in a spot that gave her comfort— no matter how much she tried to deny it at this point.
However, the first thing she noticed when she arrived was a figure slouched against a tree stump, their head hanging low. They evidently hadn't noticed her arrival, but she was quick to catch onto their agonizingly familiar scent: it was Paul.
Rather than start a squabble, something that those two had grown accustomed to, she mustered up a little politeness before she made her presence known. "What're you doing out so late?"
She saw the boy's head snap up in alert, obvious fatigue crossing his face before his eyes widened in recognition. It seemed as though he also wanted to take a different approach to their conversation, based on the way he only sat upright when he saw her. This Paul was very different from the one she'd seen just the day before.
"Couldn't sleep," he said simply, little emotion in his voice. "Why are you out so late?"
The ravenette tested her luck as she gave him a wild grin. "Was home alone... but I'm perfectly rested though." Her grin dropped at the deadpanned yet bothered look he tossed her way, and she knew he had to have been oblivious to the joking nature of her sentence. Instantly, she seemed to clutch her bag tighter, offering a small, "sorry— I won't bug you."
With that, she walked herself over to a looking tree, propping her back against it as she unloaded her supplies. The sketchbook was handled with care while the pencil crayons seemed to explode around her, littering the forest ground around her.
When she flipped to a new page, she could practically feel the shifter's gaze on her. Even as the minutes passed and it began to annoy her, she didn't say a word; he looked pitiful, too tired for his own good, so as much as she liked making him angry, she was not cruel. Plus, after the fiasco during baseball, she really didn't have the energy to fight.
Augustine only snapped away from her sketching when she heard his voice pipe up after a few silent minutes, sounding much closer than before. "You like to draw?"
She spotted him easily, leaning against a difference tree that seemed closer to the edge of the creek— though she'd never point it out because there was a part of her, the small yet really juvenile part that still trusted in the mate bond, that didn't want to jeopardize such a calm moment between the two. That part of her ended up winning when she found herself responding. "Oh totally; I think I was an artist in a past life."
He let out a barely there laugh, so short she would've missed it had her focus been anywhere other than him. "What do you usually draw?"
Her lips parted to give a response, but a wave of insecurity flashed over her. Was he just entertaining her to rile her up, was he asking to make fun of her? But, even she couldn't ignore the earnest nature of his posture across the treaty line, leaned towards her with unwavering attention.
So, she just shrugged and offered a quick, "anything, really."
"Like what?" he pried. "What are you drawing right now?"
Eyes flickering to the open page before her, a set of eyes stared back at her. And though she had yet to colour them in their usual shade of dark green, these were eyes she had seen for as long as she could remember— but, they were also eyes she hadn't seen since before she became a creature of the night. "Just my brother," came her short response.
Augustine had no idea what had gotten into him; maybe it was the obvious lack of sleep or a paranormal possession of some kind, but he was being uncharacteristically polite. He'd never bothered asking her questions like this before, much less talking civilly with her.
Paul hummed. "What's his name?"
Yet as much as that part of her liked this change, the part of her that had been present the day he had outright rejected her suddenly reared to life. So, for the rest of the night, her responses were kept short.
"Mason."
And she promptly left out the part where just as though she was named after the month of August, the eldest Dubois sibling was named after the month of May.
Because she wouldn't let him in that easily, no matter how much her very soul wanted her to.
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[ wyn's note ]
wattpad needs to fix their formatting asap cause girl... ruining the vibe smh
august's been benched (and the real reason why will shock you in the future) ;) and what are the chances these two always run into each other? almost like the creek calls to them both? bizarre idk....
LOL thanks you guys for over 2K reads! actually insane, hope you guys enjoyed this little filler-ish chap. augustine's real conflicted but do we blame her???? cause mr hothead didn't have the greatest first impression (or second.. or even third tbh).
till next time x