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 EMMETT CONAN LOWELL // BIG BAD WOLF, // accepted 12/19/13
emmett conan lowell
 Posted: Aug 5 2015, 06:19 PM
Quote
89 POSTS
5'11"
He was supposed to be an angel but they took him from that light and turned him into something hungry, something that forgets what his hands are for when they aren’t shaking.
29
complicated
Heterosexual
Forest IS Offline
Big Bad Wolf



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emmett conan lowell
 Posted: Aug 11 2015, 08:42 PM
Quote
89 POSTS
5'11"
He was supposed to be an angel but they took him from that light and turned him into something hungry, something that forgets what his hands are for when they aren’t shaking.
29
complicated
Heterosexual
Forest IS Offline
Big Bad Wolf


TEMPLATES


LYRICS
a few lines of lyrics. - - -

DIALOGUE COLOR: #5A5A5A

POST HERE

??? words , tag , notes. , ♥ lauz


CODE
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<img src="http://placehold.it/280x150" width="280" />

<div style="width: 280px; text-align: center; font-family: metal mania; font-size: 42px; color: #b9b9b9; text-shadow: 1px 0px white, 3px 0px #5A5A5A; line-height: 100%">

LYRICS

</div><div style="width: 280px; font-family: arial; color: 5a5a5a; font-size: 6px; text-transform: uppercase; letter-spacing: 3px; line-height: 100%; text-align: justify;">

a few lines of lyrics. - - -

</div><br><div style="padding: 10px 30px 10px 30px; font-family: tahoma; color: 5a5a5a; font-size: 9px; text-align: justify; line-height: 90%; border-top: 10px solid #5a5a5a; border-bottom: 10px solid #5a5a5a;">

DIALOGUE COLOR: #5A5A5A<P>

POST HERE

</div></div></div><div style="width: 300px; font-family: arial; text-align: justify; letter-spacing: 2px; text-transform: uppercase; font-size: 7px; line-height: 100%">

??? words , tag , notes.

, <a href="http://z10.invisionfree.com/CAUTIONTOTHEWIND/index.php?showuser=677">&hearts; lauz</a></div></center>[/dohtml]

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emmett conan lowell
 Posted: Aug 11 2015, 08:46 PM
Quote
89 POSTS
5'11"
He was supposed to be an angel but they took him from that light and turned him into something hungry, something that forgets what his hands are for when they aren’t shaking.
29
complicated
Heterosexual
Forest IS Offline
Big Bad Wolf


AESTHETIC


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user posted image
PM
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emmett conan lowell
 Posted: Aug 26 2015, 12:52 AM
Quote
89 POSTS
5'11"
He was supposed to be an angel but they took him from that light and turned him into something hungry, something that forgets what his hands are for when they aren’t shaking.
29
complicated
Heterosexual
Forest IS Offline
Big Bad Wolf


DRABBLES

- - night terrors
Before the nightmare begins, everything is quiet, peaceful. Cadi is curled against Emmett’s chest, her forehead pressed into his shirt, and his chin is tilted down to rest against her head, his arm draped loosely around her waist. Both are sleeping soundly this way, comforted by each other’s warmth; when one moves, the other follows, becoming more and more tangled in each other as the hours tick by. His legs entwined with hers, fingers in her hair, her hands on his shirt. They are two halves joined together in peace, in the silent comfort that they find in each other, even in sleep.

But, for Emmett, it isn’t always enough to hold her close. He’s got demons in the depths of his soul, monsters that emerge in the dead of night when he can’t keep them in check, striking out with the most damaging weapons they have – the memories of his past. He can sweep them under the rug, shut them in closets, force them out of the light when he’s awake, especially when he’s standing in Cadi’s presence, but no matter how much he ignores them, they never go away. Despite every effort he makes, he cannot fight them constantly, and, when they do resurface, they do so with such ferocity that he is shaken to his very core.

His brow furrows as the memories first begin to replay in his mind, the anguish of mourning every member of his bloodline urging his mind into a frenzy of confusion. He used to feel anger too, but he doesn’t feel that now – just the fear, the boundless grief, the emptiness and loneliness that ruled his life then and still sometimes creeps into his mind despite Cadi’s loving comfort by his side. Perhaps if he’d had her then, he wouldn’t have fought as he had, wouldn’t have let his emotions swallow him whole and guide his actions as they did. Maybe he wouldn’t have become a monster. Maybe he wouldn’t have experienced such pain.

It had been so easy to destroy a young life, and sickness overwhelms him whenever he remembers the perverse joy that had filled his mind when he’d consumed her. Blood for blood, life for life, he’d begun to exact his revenge, and that had felt good. But no amount of joy could have made the pain he experienced worthwhile.

In the darkness of the bedroom, he rolls away from Cadi, a frown set deeply into his brow. Maybe it’s the chill that stretches over the place where she used to be that ushers him into the next portion of this horrible memory, dragging him viciously into the past and holding him there.

It’s then that the huntsman plunges his blade into Emmett’s chest, and his body convulses, breath catching in his throat. He can feel it in every fiber of his being; the knife drags down through his flesh, tearing through his muscles, and he’s trapped in the memory, every spark of agonizing pain igniting the atoms in his body, never mind that none of it is happening in reality, in this moment. That doesn’t matter because the pain is as real to him now as it was before, and he’s drowning in it. He’s lost the boundary between memory and the waking world, so when his eyes finally snap open he’s sure he’s dying – he can feel the stones in his belly, the blood pouring from his chest. In the past, he’d forced himself to bear the pain, fight through it to live another day, but he doesn’t have the strength for that now. He cries out in anguish, the sound tearing through his throat, back arching off the bed as the pain reverberates through every inch of his body. His eyes are wild and unfocused, and his breaths come in violent gasps as though his lungs are collapsing in his chest and he’s desperate for air. His fingers claw at the bedsheets, then once he’s cast them aside, they grasp at his shirt, and he forces himself into a half-seated position so he can tear it off over his head before falling back again. The fabric feels wet, and his frantic mind tells him it’s soaked in his blood – his chest is healed, the wound he is experiencing now just a thin red line, but it feels like he’s been cut in two, butchered like a slab of meat and left to die in agony.

“Emmett!”

He doesn’t hear Cadi when she first begins to speak, eyes wide as she takes in his panicked, agonized state – the twisted, nightmarish memory is still holding sway for now and he can’t feel anything else, can’t find his way out. It’s only when her hand finds his cheek and gently but firmly turns his head to her that he locates her, his unfocused, panicked gaze finding her face above him, terrified and desperate, before a fresh wave of pain leaves him shuddering, eyes squeezing shut. He’s drowning, coming up for only a moment before he plunges back into the pain.

“It’s okay, Emmett, you’re okay – shhhhh –“

He feels her hand on his chest next, resting over his racing heart, fingertips on his scar, and he begins to resurface again. “Come back to me,” she repeats over and over. “You’re okay, you’re safe. Come back to me.” The cells of his body are still screaming out, but he can see her now and he knows she’s safety and he latches onto that, clings for dear life. He can feel that the skin and muscles of his chest are intact, but that doesn’t make sense – he can feel that he’s been split in half and he knows he’s falling apart. There has to be evidence of this somewhere, anything more than a thin red scar.

He’s still gasping for air, hands shaking, but he needs to be closer to her. He can swallow this pain – he’s done it before – and he tries to do that now as he pushes himself stiffly into a sitting position before collapsing against her, his forehead pressing onto her shoulder. She wraps her arms around him instantly, one of her hands tangling into his hair, and he closes his eyes, pulling himself close to her, hands closing into fists on the back of her shirt. Her lips are against his ear now, and she’s still speaking steadily, repeating the same comforting words over and over. “Shhhhhh, I’m here, Emmett, I’m here – you’re safe, you’re with me – come back to me, come back to me.”

Her fingers are trailing up and down his spine, her voice soft in his ears. Her presence means relief and he pushes through the agony to hold onto that desperately until the pain and panic slowly begin to fade. His breathing begins to even out under her touch, and the old agony retreats into the past where it belongs, leaving him shaken and shivering in her arms, more vulnerable than ever. She continues to speak soothing words into his ear until, with a heavy sigh, he sags against her, silent for a moment before he moves just enough to press a kiss to her shoulder, hands slowly releasing their grip on her shirt, though they remain resting against her back. He feels as though a hurricane blew through him, tossing him around and battering him until exhaustion drips from every fiber of his being. Her fingers run through his hair before her hand finds his shoulder and she pushes him just far enough away from her to cradle his face in her palms. His head falls gently to one side, pressing into one of her hands, and she brushes the hair off his forehead so softly, as though he may shatter if she moves too quickly.

“Hey,” she says quietly, catching his gaze for a moment, but he doesn’t respond. His panic has rendered him mute, and though he can see the concern in her eyes, he can’t find the words to reassure her or to apologize for waking her in the middle of the night. Her fingers are trailing down the side of his face and his eyes flutter closed to better take in this feeling, to use it to fill the emptiness inside him, the space he used to be before the nightmare drained him of strength and energy. Her hand comes to rest against his cheek again, and she leans forward to gently pepper reassuring kisses across his face. Then, resting her forehead against his, she trails her fingertips down his scar, starting at the dip of his collarbone and following it down his chest. “It’s all over, Emmett. You’re safe. You’re with me,” she says, and he nods silently, swallowing back the doubts and fears that hover on his tongue now, his jaw tight.

She watches him silently for a minute then, how defeated he looks, how tired, how heavily the weight of his past hangs on his shoulders, even now that he’s begun the struggle to make peace with it, and she wishes she could help him somehow. But this seems to be all she can do for him now – she listens. She makes him smile. She holds him when he crumbles, and she brings him back when he loses himself. It’s more than he’s ever hoped for, more than he believes he deserves, and slowly, piece by piece, he’s coming back together. It’s a painfully slow process, and setbacks, both those in and out of his control, are frequent, but he is healing. The memories will always sting, but perhaps one day they won’t hold so much power over him.

“You’re exhausted,” she whispers, and it’s true – now that she’s managed to calm him, he’s barely keeping himself awake, desperate for restful sleep but scared to let himself drift away for fear of returning to the same nightmare. Still, she helped him put distance between himself and those memories for now, and he doesn’t have the strength to fight any longer. “Come on. Lie back,” she says, pushing him gently back into the pillows and pulling the covers over both of them. He buries his face in her neck and breathes her in, her cheek against his forehead and his arm looped tightly around her waist, and she trails her fingers down from his shoulder until her hand rests comfortably on his bicep. “I’ll keep you safe,” she whispers. She pauses, listening to his breathing for a moment. He’s already beginning to nod off, surrounded by her comforting warmth. “I love you. So much.”

He finds his voice long enough to reply in barely a whisper, “I love you too.”

Her thumb makes soothing circles on his arm as she waits for him to fall asleep. It doesn’t take long; in just a few minutes, he’s out again, snoring softly, his warm breath on her neck, and she presses one last kiss to his forehead, then lets herself fall back into sleep.





i'll crawl home to her - -
Emmett wandered into Cadi’s apartment at 2:30 in the morning after his shift at the club ended, letting himself in with the key she’d entrusted to him a few weeks before. He was exhausted; night had always been the time he’d felt most comfortable in the city, despite the looming shadows and figures of questionable intentions, and in the first few years he’d spent in New York, he’d formed a schedule of staying up late and waking up in the afternoon that allowed him to avoid the morning hours entirely. But things had changed for him in recent time in ways that he’d never expected, ways that threw off this routine he’d so carefully crafted. He’d been spending more and more time with Cadi, who was as much a morning person as he was a night owl, and while he wasn’t easy to drag out of bed before noon, he was willing to get up if it meant he got to see her. This, however, left him staying up late to work, and what it all boiled down to was one very tired wolf. And when that wolf got tired and had someone to care for, he got cuddly.

He’d fallen asleep beside her before. Once when they’d spent a lazy afternoon in the park, he’d nodded off in the warm sunlight, a smile on his lips, with Cadi’s fingers running through his hair. Another time on her couch during a movie, when she curled against his side and the overwhelming feeling of contentedness had drowned out the voices of the actors and ushered him out of consciousness. Then there were the times where he’d kept her out late and her head fell softly on his shoulder as the subway took them back to her apartment. He knew he could sleep perfectly well in his own apartment, shutting out the sounds of his obnoxious neighbors (with some effort), but somehow he didn’t want the solitude of his own space anymore. Before, he’d needed that solitary space, somewhere to run to where he could collect his thoughts, but more and more frequently, he found himself in her apartment, draped across her couch reading the newspaper or sitting at her kitchen table drinking coffee, watching her go about her daily activities with curiosity and affection. He found that the space around her was beginning to feel more like home than anywhere else had since the death of his pack, his family. He didn’t want to be alone anymore.

He slipped his shoes off at the door, then quietly made his way through her apartment, shrugging off his coat when he passed the couch and leaving the garment draped over the back of it. Then, treading lightly on the places he knew the floor creaked, he padded to her bedroom, trailing his fingers along the wall when he felt he might bump into something. She stirred, making a few incomprehensible and generally confused noises, only when he slipped into bed beside her, curling an arm around her waist. “Emmett?” she mumbled, speech slurred lazily, as he pressed a kiss to the back of her shoulder, letting her warm scent engulf him. “Hey,” he replied softly, nuzzling her neck and planting another kiss on the soft skin there.

“What time is it?”

His eyes flicked to the clock, which read 2:41 in angular, blue digits. “Very early. Go back to sleep.” He placed one more kiss on her temple, then fell back into the pillows, unable to keep a smile from gracing his lips as he made himself comfortable with his arm around her. Her fingers laced through his, gently tugging his arm closer, and for a moment Emmett wondered if he’d ever felt quite so content in his life…things had been different before the portal, before the end of his pack, and he’d been happy, but it wasn’t quite the same. This was something new, a feeling of warmth that spread through his chest when she was around. It was something he didn’t want to lose, something he’d hold on to for as long as he could.

With this in mind, he fell asleep.


At 6:00, Cadi’s alarm went off, its shrill shrieks filling the room and echoing painfully in Emmett’s sensitive ears. He groaned loudly, dramatically, as Cadi reached over to lazily slap at the alarm clock until it shut off and, for a moment, the peace of the morning was restored. She was already waking up, already had her eyes open and was clearly mentally working on the whole getting up thing, but Emmett was about as far from prepared to wake up as anyone could get. He stubbornly refused to open his eyes, clinging to the feeling of his limbs tangled with hers, and if Cadi hadn’t managed to hit the alarm button two seconds earlier, he would have pulled his pillow over his head. She stretched and rolled over in his arms to look at him, softly saying, “Good morning.”

The only response she got was another wordless groan, then, after a moment, his grip tightened around her, pulling her close against his chest and burying his face in her shoulder, not wanting to let her go – when he worked late and she got up early, they only really got to sleep together for a few precious hours, and that wasn’t nearly long enough in Emmett’s opinion. He wanted to stay beside her as long as possible, wanted to wake up rested and contented with his limbs tangled with hers and he wanted to be able to greet the day with her. But not at 6AM. Later – much later. For now he would much prefer for her to ignore all responsibilities and stay curled up beside him. But that was hardly fair. And, anyway, she had a routine to go through with, then a shop to open. Work to do.

Now, with his face against her shoulder, breath soft against her skin, he went still again, hoping his tightened grip on her would keep her from slipping away. She giggled at his lethargy, pressing a kiss to his forehead and briefly running her fingers through his hair before carefully wiggling her way free of his arms, untangling herself and leaving Emmett alone in the sheets, shivering when the air touched his skin in the places that had been warmed by her closeness. It was only then that Emmett grudgingly half-opened his eyes and turned over onto his back to follow her movements throughout the room as she began her morning routine, pulling workout clothes from a drawer and tying her messy blonde curls into a ponytail. A frown touched his features, his voice rough with sleep when he spoke. “What are you doing?”

“I do yoga in the mornings,” she replied softly. “It’s a great way to start the day and wake up.”

Emmett, who did not at all like waking up, continued to frown. Still, he kept himself as awake as he could, eyes fluttering shut every few moments as he fought exhaustion in favor of learning Cadi’s morning routine. It was only when she left the room for a few minutes that he dragged himself temporarily into full consciousness and slowly stood, following her into the living room. He hovered in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe and squinting in the light of the lamp she’d turned on, bleary-eyed and rumpled from head to toe. His hair was sticking up in all manners of ridiculous ways and his shoulders were slumped in exhaustion, arms crossed across his chest, watching her as she set up her yoga mat in the biggest open space in the living room. “You don’t have to get up,” she said, smiling as she took in his bedraggled figure. “You can stay as long as you want – I don’t mind.”

Warmth spread through Emmett’s chest at this, but he wasn’t awake or rested enough for this swell of happiness to register on his face just yet. He simply shook his head, a pensive frown on his face as he moved sluggishly into the room and unceremoniously threw himself onto the couch, stretching his shoulders and making himself comfortable on the cushions in a position that allowed him to watch what she was doing. “I want to learn your routine,” he replied. Cadi shook her head with a smile and took her place on her yoga mat, closing her eyes in an attempt to block out the feeling of being watched. Then she began her practice, moving slowly and smoothly from pose to pose as she usually did. After a few minutes, she stole a peek at Emmett out of the corner of her eye, another smile spreading across her face as she realized that he had fallen fast asleep on the couch. His head had fallen gently against the back of the couch, the frown he’d had on his face since he’d awoken ten minutes earlier gone now, smoothed out and peaceful.

He didn’t stir as Cadi finished her practice and put away her mat, nor did he awaken as she quietly tiptoed past the couch on her way to the bathroom, pausing briefly to leave a kiss on the top of his head.





- - i will use you as a warning sign
It takes a while for Emmett to admit his attachment to Cadi out loud, but, once he finally does, it seems only natural for the two of them to stay together. They’ve been just friends for what feels like a long time, but for most of that time it felt different, unlike any friendship either of them have ever experienced, though the label of “friends” is one that Emmett has cautiously learned to accept. Still, there’s something special about Cadi, something that makes him want to keep her close. It isn’t love yet – at least, Emmett hasn’t learned to regard it that way just yet – but he knows to follow his instincts and his instincts tell him Cadi is safety and that’s not something he wants to lose. He wants to hold on to her, be close to her, though with the roughness of his hands and the harshness of his personality he’s afraid he’ll hurt her, drag her down or hold her back from the good things she deserves in her life.

  Still, he knows how easy it is to fall. He’s done it before – viciously, violently, with snapping jaws and gore – but this – this is entirely different. This time, he doesn’t want to stop. He wants to lose himself in her.

  At first, he willingly surrenders control in what some people would call a moment of weakness. He agrees to be something more than just friends with Cadi, something that lets him entwine his fingers with hers when he needs an anchor. Something that lets him stand beside her with an arm possessively wrapped around her waist when they’re on the subway platform. Something that lets him cautiously press his lips to hers on her dark doorstep when he takes her home after an evening together. It’s selfish, really; he’s been starved of touch for years, and he’s drunk on the feeling of her skin against his, the sensation that drives away the loneliness and emptiness that ruled his life for so long. On a good day, she makes him feel whole, like somebody who is worth saving. Someone good. He wants so badly to be that person for her, to be the hero she seems to think he is when all the rest of the world is spewing hatred and screaming villain. She is the first person he’s met since the death of his pack who believed he could be something more than he already was, and he needs that.

  But that isn’t always enough.

  He spends the first three months halfway out the door. She’s happy, and he can see that, but he can’t help but feel like he’s forcing her head underwater. She’s used to a pleasant, bright life, but all he’s ever had is darkness and misfortune, and he feels like that follows him everywhere, even into her happy home. He hovers in her life like a dark cloud, constantly threatening storms and rain, and he can’t stand the thought that he’s bringing her down somehow. He looks at her sometimes, smiling beside him, and he thinks that this can’t possibly be what she really wants. She’s just too kind to turn him away, too sweet to risk hurting his feelings, and, knowing his past, she feels too bad for him to risk being added to his list of people who have disappointed him and denied him some brief moments of happiness. She tells him she’s happy, snuggles against him when they watch movies, runs to him when she has a bad day, but he hasn’t learned how to let go of his independence yet. He hasn’t learned how to let himself be wanted. He periodically disappears for several days on end without telling her where he’s going or how long he’ll be gone. He hesitates before touching her, asks her if she’s certain she wants him around for certain things, appears uncomfortable doing the most basic of couples things. He’s in a constant state of tension, constantly wondering if this was a good idea or if he should just give up, and though he never voices it, Cadi can feel that it’s there. She tries to be reassuring; she’s clear with what makes her happy and what she enjoys, she reaches for him when he seems to be holding back, and she tells him she cares when she can feel that he’s doubting it. But that isn’t enough to quell his insecurity.

  They decide to go out for dinner. She tangles her fingers with his as they walk to the restaurant, and he smiles down at her gratefully, if only a bit hesitantly. The restaurant is filled to the brim with people already, which makes Emmett even more uncomfortable and uncertain than before, but he doesn’t say anything. They’re told they can sit at the bar while they wait for a table to open up, so they sit for a while, and Emmett leaves for just a few minutes to go to the bathroom. When he comes back, someone else has taken his stool – a man who is now talking to Cadi, and she’s laughing at something he’s saying, head thrown back, the glowing smile that Emmett covets spread across her lips. His chest tightens, because this is the sort of happiness she should feel all the time, but it’s brought on by someone else, someone who is not him. He feels disheartened for a moment, eyes flicking subconsciously to the door, wondering if he slipped away now if she’d flow seamlessly into the arms of the man beside her. He thinks for a moment that this might be better anyhow, that she’s clearly amused by him and she should be happy like that always, but when his eyes land on the man beside her, he feels annoyance and possessiveness flare up in his chest. He can see it in the man’s eyes, the predatory look of someone fishing for company, the same look he sees in the eyes of the men who enter the club where he works. Looking for someone to keep for only the night, then desert in the morning. Maybe he's imagining it, but he doesn't give any thought to this possibility; Emmett practically growls as he approaches the two of them, his hand finding a place on the small of Cadi’s back without his usual hesitation – she’s his, and he won’t have some strange man thinking he can take her to bed tonight and break her heart in the morning. She turns into Emmett’s chest, smiling up at him, eyes still glittering with amusement, but he doesn’t see it – his heavy gaze is fixed on the man beside her, the man who took his place the moment he left. Something in Emmett feels savage, wild, as jealously rears its’ ugly head within him. “Back off,” he snarls, his fingers closing slightly over the back of Cadi’s jacket.

  The man stares in confusion. “Dude, we were just talking – “ he says, hands rising in a sort of surrender. He’s looking at Cadi, looking for someone to back him up on this, looking for someone to agree that Emmett’s crazy and overreacting. Cadi, however, hasn’t taken her eyes off Emmett – she looks bewildered, her doe eyes full of confusion and surprise. His name falls from her lips, but he hardly hears it. He’s locked in, focused, and the rest of the world has fallen away. “I see the way you’re looking at her,” he says. “Find someone else.”

  “What?!” Cadi’s surprise is wearing off and turning to anger. She pulls away from Emmett as much as she can, until her back is pressed against the edge of the bar. A frown is set deeply on her brow and there’s a light in her eyes now that Emmett’s rarely seen. She’s furious. The man chooses (wisely) to stay quiet, though he seems rightfully unnerved by how Emmett’s predatory gaze lingers on him for a moment before Cadi begins to speak again. “Jacob works at the rink with me. He teaches hockey after my lessons. He just got back from vacation with his wife and was telling me about it.”

  Emmett immediately beings to feel immensely stupid. Guilty. In an instant, he’s turned on his heel and is dodging his way through people and out the door, moving at a quick and steady pace. He can feel Cadi’s gaze on his back and he wonders if she’ll follow – he knows she does because a moment later he hears her apologizing profusely to her friend and promising to talk to him soon. He blocks out the rest, feeling like the walls are closing in on him and needing desperately to be somewhere where he can breathe. His pace doesn’t slow when he reaches the street, and he bumps shoulders with people heading toward the restaurant, hardly noticing the impact. He shoves his hands deep into his pockets, cursing himself for his stupidity. He saw her happy, and he selfishly stole that from her. She has every reason to hate him. She should hate him.

  “Emmett!”

  He can still hear the anger in her voice, but that doesn’t stop her from chasing after him. He doesn’t slow down, hasn’t yet found a place where his head doesn’t feel like it’s going to collapse. The hatred he feels for himself is renewed twice over, and his chest feels tight with his frustration, fists balled in his pockets until his knuckles are white. “Emmett, stop!” she shouts again, closer now. He can hear her running steps behind him, and he exhales heavily, knowing he’s in for a tongue lashing that he very much deserves. She comes up beside him, half-running and half-walking, trying to keep up with his steady but quick strides. “Can you slow down?” He doesn’t want to. He doesn’t know where he’s going exactly, but he doesn’t want to stop. Still, he knows he’s going to have to face her sooner or later, and he might as well take the force of her anger now. He tries to steel himself against it as best he can, setting his jaw and raising his chin in some sort of defiance as he finally turns his head to acknowledge her, letting his pace slow enough so she’s not running beside him anymore. “We need to talk,” she says, and he knows she’s right, but he doesn’t say anything. She huffs in frustration. “Let’s go back to my apartment. We can eat dinner and talk there.” They’re both hungry, which isn’t helping their short tempers, and they walk in silence the rest of the way to Cadi’s home.

  Emmett hovers in the living room, pacing, hands still buried in the pockets of his coat, fingernails biting into his palms enough to form red crescent dips in his skin, punishment for what he knows he’s done wrong. Cadi pulls off her coat and hangs it where it belongs before she turns to him, arms crossed across her chest. “What was all that about?” she asks simply.

  He doesn’t even know how to explain. He thought – he assumed…he’d been wrong. He’d let his insecurities swallow him whole, let his quick temper burn him up, and he shouldn’t have. He felt stupid. He let out a heavy breath. “I left for a few minutes, came back, and he was already there. I was gone for four minutes and some guy had taken my place. And you were –“ He doesn’t finish this thought. His hands leave his pockets to lace through his hair and clutch his head for a moment. He hasn’t stopped pacing; he feels trapped and it makes him uncomfortable. His skin feels too tight around his shoulders, his chest, his arms.

  “And I was what?” she prompts when the silence stretches between them for too long. His chest tightens further, and his next words burst from his lips louder and more forcefully than he intended.

  Happy. You were happy with him,” he replies, finding himself beside the kitchen table, hands clutching the back of one of the chairs. She stares at him, eyes wide, her mouth falling open in surprise, but he doesn’t meet her eyes, instead watching the way his hands have tightened around the wood of the chair. There’s silence that seems to last forever, stretching between them in a vast ocean of time. He takes a breath. He feels like he’s wound up tighter than a clock spring, but somehow in the silence he reaches some sort of resolve and he manages to find a moment of calm. His head falls forward and he stares at the ground for a few moments, his mouth pulling into a firm line, brow furrowing. Guilt overtakes him, and doubt even stronger than his anger forces its way into his heart. Suddenly the pulse that just moments before felt so strong in his chest is painful, and he struggles to breathe. “I don’t think I can do this,” he says, his voice somehow steady despite the crippling doubt and the dying embers of his anger cooling in his chest.

  “What?” Her voice is barely more than a whisper, and she suddenly seems so small and fragile where she stands nearby. His eyes wander over the flat wood surface of her dining table, his whitened knuckles, the floor, but he can’t bring himself to look at her. This was never where he was meant to be – he was never meant to know her, with her kind eyes and soft hands and open heart. He was never meant to walk the floors of her home or trail his fingers over her skin, never meant to call her his own. In his anger he’d forgotten that she wasn’t his at all – maybe he belongs to her but there is no other way around, for wolves with blood on their tongues were never meant to hold such sweet and gentle things as her.

  “I don’t think I can be this person for you,” he says again, this time stronger, each word defined and clear. “You deserve someone better who isn’t going to hurt you or leave you, and I can’t be that person. I don’t know how.” He stands straight again, releasing the chair, but still unable to meet her eyes as he speaks. He takes a few steps away from the table and her, gaze sliding over her belongings, her home. She’s a happy person, and he’s stolen that from her tonight because he let himself desire her smiles as his own possessions though she was never his to keep in the first place. He was at once so certain that she should be with someone else, anyone who would make her smile and laugh as she had earlier, but also so terrified to lose her to someone else that his anger eclipsed his rationality and he let it swallow him whole. He didn’t know what he thought he was doing, or where he thought this could go, how it would end. All the good things in his life had ended in heartbreak, and now he was sure this would too. Another disaster. Another failure. Another reason to lock himself away from the world.

  Emmett.” His name falls from her lips halfway to a sob, so full of sadness that he stops where he is and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. This has nothing to do with her, nothing to do with her friend in the bar, and everything to do with Emmett – his doubts, his fears. So often he pretends to be fearless, presenting himself as someone who has seen the world for what it really is and is no longer afraid, but the truth is that he’s terrified. He can’t stand to lose everything in his life again, can’t let himself be the monster he was once before – he lost his love and respect for himself when he swallowed little Red Ridinghood, and without this self-confidence he struggles to find reasons to allow himself to be happy. He has no value, no worth, and he doesn’t deserve to be cared for, doesn’t deserve the time and effort Cadi puts into caring for him. His heart is crippled and broken in his chest – there’s no reason she should want it.

  She takes this moment to approach him, slowly stepping around to face him. His eyes open, but his gaze finds a framed photo on the wall, still avoiding looking at her until she gently takes his face in her hands and carefully tilts his head so their eyes meet. Her thumbs stroke across his cheekbones as he gazes into her eyes. She’s hurt, but there’s some sort of determination in her gaze now as well. “You have to believe this can work,” she says softly but firmly, her hands falling to slide down his arms until their fingers meet and lace loosely together. “I know it’s not easy, but I know you and I care about you. You have to trust me.” She pauses, gaze turning sad. “I don’t want someone else. I’ve never cared about anyone the way I care about you, Emmett. You have to trust that I’ll always come back to you.”

  Trust is a difficult thing for someone who knows betrayal so well, but he trusts Cadi more than anyone. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a hard time believing what she says. Kind words, especially those of affection, are hard for him to accept, though he reciprocates her feelings completely. His fingers tighten around hers, and, with a heavy exhale, Emmett lets his head fall forward until his forehead gently presses against hers, his eyes closing. His heart aches in his chest – he wants this so badly, but it’s hard for him to believe it can be anything more than temporary, and his self-doubt and extensive list of fears makes it hard for him not to subconsciously sabotage everything they have.

  After a few moments of silence, one of his hands escapes hers to brush across her cheek and rest against the side of her neck. “I need to think,” he says softly, lifting his head to meet her eyes. There’s so much war in Emmett’s heart, between logic and the deeply ingrained belief that he will never be worth anything, and he often struggles to wrap his head around what exactly is going on and if he should let it happen or run to save them both. This is what he does when he disappears – he wars with himself, fights with the idea that every day his affection for her deepens, struggles to know if he should let himself care or steel himself against it. Cadi understands that he struggles – perhaps she doesn’t understand exactly how or exactly why, but she knows he needs time.

  “I know,” she says, taking a step into him and wrapping her arms around his waist. She presses her forehead into his shoulder, and, after a moment, she feels his arms around her, his fingers tangling loosely in the blonde curls at the base of her skull. She sways slightly, taking him gently back and forth with her, and he lets her rock him in soothing circles for a few minutes, breathing her in. Then, releasing her, he presses a soft kiss to her temple, the signal that he needs to go. She lets him go reluctantly, hands trailing around from his back to his sides as he slides from her grip and steps away toward the door. She watches him leave knowing that, though she isn’t entirely certain when she’ll see him again, he will be back. Despite all the struggles inside his head, he needs her, and he will always come back.






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emmett conan lowell
 Posted: Aug 28 2015, 10:12 PM
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He was supposed to be an angel but they took him from that light and turned him into something hungry, something that forgets what his hands are for when they aren’t shaking.
29
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"Here are your upturned hands.
Give them to him and watch how he prays
like he is learning his first words.
" [ x ]





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emmett conan lowell
 Posted: Sep 11 2015, 10:48 PM
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89 POSTS
5'11"
He was supposed to be an angel but they took him from that light and turned him into something hungry, something that forgets what his hands are for when they aren’t shaking.
29
complicated
Heterosexual
Forest IS Offline
Big Bad Wolf


OTM AWARDS

september 2015


male & relationship

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