T H E  W I N D  W A S cool, and it made Santana's skin tingle in the new found temperature. Despite having Paul's sweater on, it couldn't stop the nagging of the chill hitting her short-clad legs. It didn't help that she was on the roof of Paul's home, either. He begged and pleaded until he eventually talked her into coming up. Her best friends radiating heat barely reached her, but she moved closer to him and intertwined her hand with his, and swung her legs over him. Her body swivelled sideways and she rested her head on his shoulder. Paul's heart burned at the thought of her. He loved her, more than he'd ever admit to anybody, and it was killing him.

Her eyes drooped in the late hours of the night. The stars in the sky called to her, begging her to sleep, but she just couldn't bear to close her eyes. She didn't want to miss a minute with the boy next to her. Paul's free hand reached over and rested his hand on her leg. The temperature of his skin, hot enough he should be dead, warmed her slightly. She relaxed against him and looked out to the forest. The tops of the trees danced in the air. Leaves rustled and the call of animals on the reserve sounded through the quietness. The steel of the roof creaked under the two lightly, making Santana jump every now and again. The night wasn't perfect, but it was something very close.

"You've taken everything that happened this weekend pretty well," Paul laughed. "I've got to say, I'm impressed." He complimented. Santana cheeks tinted crimson and her lips turned upwards into a smile.

"I guess things were a little bit easier because all of my friends were involved." She reasoned.

"That's usually when people run." Paul sighed and let go of her hand. Instead, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into him a little closer.

"How could I ever run from you guys?" Santana retorted immediately, almost appalled at the thought. "You are my life. Without you all, I don't... I'd have nothing. You're my family." Her stomach churned at her words and she looked down at his hand on her leg. "It didn't scare me off, if anything it made me feel closer to you. You all trusted me with such a huge secret, such a big part of your life." She trailed off, letting her words ring in the vacant air.

"Well, the condition was that we could only tell our imprints. They're basically apart of the pack." He explained. Santana's eyebrows furrowed.

"But Bella isn't an-"

"No, she's not. But I kind of gave everybody no other choice." He removed his hand from her leg and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I wish I could control myself better. I've always had bad anger issues, but now it means so much more." He paused and looked out at the tree line. "I could've hurt you today. I never could've lived with myself if I had." He laughed to himself, void of humour.

"But you didn't," Santana reminded him. "I'm fine, Paul. There's no point on thinking about it if it never happened. In the time I've known you, you've only lost your temper once. That's not bad." She reasoned with him but he refused to listen.

"It's impossible not to think about. We haven't spoken for that long. Once every month or so is almost twelve a year. If we spend the rest of our lives together, that's a long time. Twelve times however many years. That's just more chances of you getting hurt. And that's just an average." He did his math aloud.

"Then we can learn to control it better if it bothers you that much. I know what I'm getting into, Paul. I wouldn't have it any other way. You're my best friend. Well, my soulmate apparently. I'm not leaving now." She stated, firmly.

"Are you sure you know?" He muttered. "Emily said the same thing. Sam lost it for a second, and he can never take that back. He had to live with that for the rest of his life. He could have hurt her so much worse-"

"But he didn't." She cut him off. "You can't live your life in fear of what tomorrow could bring. You just have to ride things out the way they are and take everything a step at a time. Learning to cope and deal with the inevitable is a part of life. We were meant for this Paul. We were meant to be together. Don't you think it's a bit foolish that you're scared to be around me when we were born to be together?" Her voice was soft and her words hit him deep in his heart. His head turned to look at her. He had nothing to reply with. Speech failed him.

Instead, he leaned over and grabbed her face in his hands, and kissed her. It was slow, and meaningful, and he savoured every minute. She kissed back just as enthusiastically, and her whole body tingled with excitement. There was no fireworks, or anything like that. Things just felt right. Being with Paul felt right to her. But at the same time, a looming sense of fear drooped over her head, and she had to force herself to pull away. "Paul—"

"I know, I'm sorry." He said, his voice low. His head was still ignited at the raw emotion he'd been feeling just seconds before, but he realized that maybe it was too soon for her. Her eyes fluttered open and shut, and she didn't say anything. Her exhales were visible in the cool air as she took deep, calming breaths.

"I just... I don't want to ruin what we have. I don't like changing. You're my best friend, I really just don't want anything to happen that could break that apart." She confessed, and his stomach dropped. He knew things weren't like that, but maybe she hadn't grasped the fact that nothing could drive him away from her. She was his bane, his kryptonite. He was there for the rest of her life unless she asked him away. "It's not fair to you. I'm sorry, I know I'm being unfair. I keep leading you on and this isn't because I don't care for you. You're the most important thing to me right now, but emotionally, I'm not in that place. Jacob messed with my head, and I'm not running right, now. I can't force you to deal with my problems. Just let me get over them myself, and then things will be different, I swear." She begged, and he nodded, gently.

"You don't owe me an explanation, Tana. You can't help the way you feel. I shouldn't have done that, and I'm sorry I put you in an uncomfortable situation. Just know that I'm here. I'll wait as long as you need." Her heart broke at his words. She was full of remorse and guilt that she couldn't feel the way she so badly wanted to feel about him. Deep down, she knew it wouldn't fix anything. She'd always be one step behind him, and it was killing her.

The wind seemed to fill the emptiness. Neither half of the pair wanted to say anything. The stars sparkled and the moon cast a hue over the two as they sat, wordless. Paul got over himself quickly, although still slightly upset, he realized it would do no good to pride a grudge over something she couldn't control. Besides, she didn't say she'd never feel the same for him. Time is something everybody needs, but only the comfortable are willing to admit it. He glanced at her and saw she was staring at the woods. His heart sped again, and he cursed himself for having such strong feelings. She must have caught him looking through the corner of her eye, because she looked over and met his stare. Her eyes held sympathy, but not by itself. Adoration. She had no idea what she would do without him. He was her friend, her shoulder to cry on, her literal soulmate.

"I didn't want to make things awkward." Remorse filled Paul's tone. Santana just shook her head and smiled.

"Not awkward, just intense." She said, honestly. Paul sighed and went to stand, to jump down, but Santana reached out and grabbed his hand. "Don't. Please, stay." She nearly begged. He couldn't handle refusing her, and he relaxed back into the steel of the roof. His father, just below them, asleep, would kill him if he knew he was up here. He was fine with Santana staying, which was a shock to him. He seemed to like her more than he liked his own son. That hurt him to think about, but an understanding was met. Santana was extraordinary. There was no way Paul could ever come close to her in a standing. He didn't even want to.

Despite Santana saying the kiss was okay, he still felt out of place. Almost like he changed the demeanour of the whole relationship. She didn't seem too bothered, but the memory was beating on his brain like a drum. It almost made him sick to his stomach. He desperately wanted to know what she was thinking—how she truly felt. Wolf telepathy would have come in handy at that moment. Then again, maybe he didn't want to know. After all, sometimes a mystery is better than a known answer.

So there they sat atop his roof in the early hours of a Sunday morning. Both at such peace in each other presence, but also in unspoken chaos at the thought of it. Neither spoke in fear of error, and neither spoke in fear of breaking the peace. Instead, hand in hand, they suffered soundlessly. The reservation never seemed so eerie. An imprint and imprintee were lost in translation, both feeling similar but so different simultaneously. As the wolf cries, the lover waits. As the lover cries, the wolf rampages. As the wolf rampages, the lover reprimands. As the wolf protects, the lover falls in love and lust. So endearing, and so sickening all the same.