? DISCONTINUED ? Between the Perennial Blooms || Paul Lahote

Forty | Geranium

Quil smirked. "Don't have a middle name."

Bailey huffed. "Well, Quil Ateara the fifth, I'll say it again! You're being the absolute biggest baby I've ever met!"

Bemused, Quil crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!" Bailey echoed, pouting in such a precious way that Quil finally understood Paul's incessant need to baby her like he so often did. She's so pure, Quil remarked to himself, unable to take her seriously when she was so short and the furthest thing from intimidating anyone could ever possibly hope to be. She's so kind-hearted. So gentle. She needs to be protected at all costs. And as if the thought was a vow of binding magic, Quil could've sworn he heard the sound of his wolf howl in the back of his mind as it tethered him to it.

"You're- you're acting like a three year old who can't get over the fact that someone stole his favorite toy and, quite frankly, I'm sick of it! I forgive you — I'll say it a millions time if that's what it takes to- to make you believe me! And I don't blame you, I never did, and I'll say that a million times if it's what it takes to make you stop blaming yourself! And I love you Quil, you're one of my best friends, and so I would really appreciate it if you would- would stop walking around with that upset frown on your face that makes you look like a kicked puppy because I don't like seeing you sad, and when you're sad, I'm sad, and all I wanna be right now is happy!"

"Bailey-Wren..." Quil chuckled wryly, impressed, though slightly taken aback, by her rant. "You're way too good for this world."

Blushing from both aggravation and flattery, Bailey huffed at his clear dismissal of her words and pouted like a grump. "Yeah, well," she replied haughtily. "If you think so, then I think the same about you, too."

Snorting, Quil tugged on her curly ponytail that only grew poofier with each gust of wind. He pulled her back into his side and began walking once again, leading her down the shopping strip all the while replaying her words in his head. Though he didn't acknowledge them the way he knew she had wanted him to, it didn't mean he had heard her any less. In a way only a best friend could be, he was proud of her. The girl he met in Jacob's garage all those months ago had been so shy, so sweet, so soft-spoken, yet here she now stood unafraid to rip him a new one in the charming, lovable way only someone like her could manage to pull off all the while glaring at him with such vigor that had she not been two feet taller and less baby-faced, he might have actually felt intimidated. Nevertheless, he understood her — and in turn, she, him — and though what had taken place between them was tragic, there was no denying that it had also made them closer. They were best friends, friends connected through scars no one else would ever share, and she loved him enough to forgive him without question, and she loved him enough to speak up in a way she'd never really had the courage to before, and he loved her enough to let her do both.

So, "Thank you," he eventually told her. "Thank you for saying all that."

"You're welcome." Bailey smiled.

Then as the two of them proceeded to scour the Port Angeles shopping center until Bailey found Bella the perfect representation of her unconditional love for her, Quil grew light under the knowledge that, even if it had taken him some time to realize it, the reason she had forgiven him so easily was because she felt for him that same love she felt for her sister. And Quil had always wanted that, had always dreamed of having another sibling to fill the hole in his heart that longed for someone to quell the loneliness when his mom was gone and his grandpa out, but had given up on the idea long ago.

Now though, looking at the little golden haired girl with the wide cerulean eyes huddled close on that cold Spring Sunday in the end of May, Quil realized that, without even asking, he had gained exactly what he'd been wishing for his entire lonely life: