fan fic: Imprint
Okay, so I've never written a fanfic before, or anything close. I was pretty much just absorbed by Quil/Claire and all the possibilities. "Eclipse" SPOILERS, I guess...kinda. *shrugs*
He has always been here. My entire life he has always cared for me, protected me. Never faltering, never changing. Never changing. He has never aged a day, through my entire life he has always been a glorious sixteen.
He is my bestfriend and my guardian angel. He is my very own werewolf.
He doesn’t scare me, he never has. Even though he is a monstrous sized wolf when he transforms, his eyes stay the same. He is the same. His fur is soft and warm. He lays on the ground and I cuddle into his side. As I talk to him through the night I play with his gray hair, twirling it in my fingers. Though he can’t speak he responds with sounds in his throat and movements of his head. It’s our own language that no one else would understand.
--
When I was seven he saved my life for the first time. I was walking home from school, I had been with my friend Jenna but she lived several minutes closer to the La Push Elementary School than me, so I was then walking the last quarter mile home alone. My family lived on a back street in the woods. There was no sidewalk of course, so I tried to keep to the shoulder of the road, as I had been taught. I wasn’t paying attention to my feet at all, or the twisting road for that matter, I had my head bent and I was staring straight up into the sky, examining it and finding misshapen animals in the clouds. I remember finding one that looked like my cat, Roxanne, and I had thought that was funny. I suddenly tripped over a rock then and landed face down on the road. All I could think of was how my knees and hands burned. That was, until I heard the truck. It was coming around the turn fast and I was lying in the road. Before I had time to die I was in a pair of huge warm arms on the edge of the road. Safe. The truck sped past us, driving over the slab of road where I had been lying a second before.
“Claire,” he had said with intensity in his voice. I could only stare at him in shock, I couldn’t comprehend what had happened. He had then carried me home in his too-warm arms. I didn't tell Jenna about it the next day, I'm not sure why.
When I was thirteen I began to notice just how beautiful he was. He was muscled, huge, but not in the gross bodybuilder way, in the Superman way. At Thanksgiving he gave me a hug, our thousandth, probably, but it felt different.
Last year my father asked me if we were dating. His voice was protective but his eyes held a different emotion, like he knew something and he wasn’t saying it. I didn’t know how to answer him, it was all so new and different between us still.
--
I open my eyes and it isn’t quite as dark around me, the stars are gone, I must have fallen asleep. I am laying on the cold ground and his warmth isn’t around me. I sit up startled.
“Good morning.”
I turn around quickly, instantly comforted. He is back in his normal ‘form’ now, wearing a tight red t-shirt and jeans. He wraps his arms around me and I begin to warm.
“I love you, Claire.” he whispers in my ear. I smile and snuggle deeper into his arms.
“You know I love you, too, Quil. You are my werewolf.” He laughs softly and bends his head down to kiss me.
I thought it was longer... it filled up two notebooks pages =P. Okay, so thoughts? I just wrote this an hour ago, and this was honestly one of maybe 4 things I've written in the past 5 years that wasn't for school, so I don't know how I feel about my writing 'skills' at this point.
Is anyone else in love with this ship? Too bad we'll probably never see anything develop with it, though. *sigh*
He has always been here. My entire life he has always cared for me, protected me. Never faltering, never changing. Never changing. He has never aged a day, through my entire life he has always been a glorious sixteen.
He is my bestfriend and my guardian angel. He is my very own werewolf.
He doesn’t scare me, he never has. Even though he is a monstrous sized wolf when he transforms, his eyes stay the same. He is the same. His fur is soft and warm. He lays on the ground and I cuddle into his side. As I talk to him through the night I play with his gray hair, twirling it in my fingers. Though he can’t speak he responds with sounds in his throat and movements of his head. It’s our own language that no one else would understand.
--
When I was seven he saved my life for the first time. I was walking home from school, I had been with my friend Jenna but she lived several minutes closer to the La Push Elementary School than me, so I was then walking the last quarter mile home alone. My family lived on a back street in the woods. There was no sidewalk of course, so I tried to keep to the shoulder of the road, as I had been taught. I wasn’t paying attention to my feet at all, or the twisting road for that matter, I had my head bent and I was staring straight up into the sky, examining it and finding misshapen animals in the clouds. I remember finding one that looked like my cat, Roxanne, and I had thought that was funny. I suddenly tripped over a rock then and landed face down on the road. All I could think of was how my knees and hands burned. That was, until I heard the truck. It was coming around the turn fast and I was lying in the road. Before I had time to die I was in a pair of huge warm arms on the edge of the road. Safe. The truck sped past us, driving over the slab of road where I had been lying a second before.
“Claire,” he had said with intensity in his voice. I could only stare at him in shock, I couldn’t comprehend what had happened. He had then carried me home in his too-warm arms. I didn't tell Jenna about it the next day, I'm not sure why.
When I was thirteen I began to notice just how beautiful he was. He was muscled, huge, but not in the gross bodybuilder way, in the Superman way. At Thanksgiving he gave me a hug, our thousandth, probably, but it felt different.
Last year my father asked me if we were dating. His voice was protective but his eyes held a different emotion, like he knew something and he wasn’t saying it. I didn’t know how to answer him, it was all so new and different between us still.
--
I open my eyes and it isn’t quite as dark around me, the stars are gone, I must have fallen asleep. I am laying on the cold ground and his warmth isn’t around me. I sit up startled.
“Good morning.”
I turn around quickly, instantly comforted. He is back in his normal ‘form’ now, wearing a tight red t-shirt and jeans. He wraps his arms around me and I begin to warm.
“I love you, Claire.” he whispers in my ear. I smile and snuggle deeper into his arms.
“You know I love you, too, Quil. You are my werewolf.” He laughs softly and bends his head down to kiss me.
I thought it was longer... it filled up two notebooks pages =P. Okay, so thoughts? I just wrote this an hour ago, and this was honestly one of maybe 4 things I've written in the past 5 years that wasn't for school, so I don't know how I feel about my writing 'skills' at this point.
Is anyone else in love with this ship? Too bad we'll probably never see anything develop with it, though. *sigh*