Author's note: Hope you all like it.

Summary: I stare up at the starry skies, and I see his face. I overhear the winds whisper his name. I see his smile and hear his laugher and I feel my soul awaken. Why? Had the narrow line my life once followed finally make a turn? If so, I hope it follows him wherever he goes, because he has somehow not only stolen my heart, but he had awakened my soul.

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Warnings: Sex scene, because I haven't written one in quite a while.

Where the Lines Overlap

The sound was that of grinding tires, screeching as they tore down the street, or so it seemed. It was actually just the alarm clock buzzing in my damned ear, but it sounded like brakes grinding together in an epic indignation.

I winced, groaning irately. I blindly groped for the contraption until finally I felt it under my palm and smashed it. It silenced immediately, but the dizziness and sharp buzzing that palpitated in my head refused to seize.

This damn job is going to be the death of me. It was six in the morning, and during the winter seasons, going out into the morning air meant frostbite up the ass. But I couldn't entirely blame my job. I loved working under my music director and interning while aspiring to become a world-renowned musical engineer; or producer for short.

Edward Cullen was a wonderful musical composer and producer, and I was more than honored to be chosen to work under him, but this waking up at six in the morning every day to set up and study equipment was a bit much, especially with this hangover hammering against my skull. It made me ponder if it was all actually worth it, because not only did I have to get up at inhumane hours, but I was also alone in that huge building. Well not exactly alone. Some crew members were there to help me set up and tell me what was what and where it all goes, but still, they never struck up a conversation. Instead it was always work; their minds always on how big their paycheck was this week or the next. Damned bores.

But as I mentioned, I couldn't proclaim that my work was liable for my hung-over state. It was more so because of my insufferable cousin, Paul, who had his birthday party last night and decided to spike my drink when I wasn't looking. I only remembered because right before I took that final sip before my arrival into drunken bliss, he had smacked me hard on the back and said, "Now aren't you happy I gave your drink a little 'umph'?" But I had already drunk the last sip and I was gone. What I did after that point was beyond my knowing or comprehension.

I should've never gone…he's what's going to be the end of me, going along with his crap. Although I couldn't help it at times, especially since Paul and I are cousins on an entirely different level. I was convinced that there are no other cousins that could compare to the relationship Paul and I had, not one could even come close. I knew him since I was born, literally. He was standing, or so I've told, right beside the bed as soon as I had been smacked on the ass by the doctor and given to my mother.

I had done everything with Paul. We went to the same schools throughout our entire lives—except college because he refused to go, but despite that fact he's still doing pretty well for himself with his soon-to-be fiancée, Rachel Black. We had liked the same girls, when I thought I was interested in them, which reminds me that we even experimented at the same times as we went through the stages of questioning our own sexualities, and in that time we even liked the same guys.

There were only three real distinct differences between him and me. 1.) He had hit a growth spurt that was unbelievable and left him at a height of about 6"3 or 6"5, while when I hit mine it left me at 5"10. 2.) His build was far bigger than mine. He had the body of a statue and the tautness of a building, where I was more so lean and lithe, but was still quite shaped myself. 3.) He had found out that after experimenting for so long he wasn't actually wasn't all that interested in guys, while I…well I was. I held on to my attraction for men.

He was three years older than I was, and since he had turned twenty-one yesterday he had been ecstatic and unbearably persistent that he made the night of his twenty-first birthday the most epic nights he had ever lived, and this declaration was made six months before his birthday was even going to happen. But to say the night was nothing less than epic was the truth. It was indeed, the shit! He had it at the city's most popular night club that had five floors and a bar on each one, and he made sure that they reserved the top floor for his event.

The night started young, but ended…I don't know when it ended. I wasn't even sure how I got home last night. But even though I didn't drink much, but he managed to spiked my glass when I wasn't looking, and I was now sporting a damned annoying hangover that was kicking my ass to and from the Netherlands of Hell, the party was nothing short of the best I've ever been to—and I've been to a lot of parties, especially having Paul as a cousin that lived next door to me for seventeen years before finally I got away from him and my parents and rented an apartment with the money from my internship a few months ago. But life with Paul was always fun. There was never a dull moment with him around. Without him I just don't know how I would've turned out.

I groaned again as I languidly tossed my covers aside, and standing I cupped my throbbing head in my hands to try and appease the inevitable migraine that formed. I failed, and heaved a demurred sigh before stalking carefully to the bathroom. I fell against the sink as soon as I stepped onto the porcelain tiles, and I noted that my arms ached terribly when I caught myself, and I hissed.

I looked down at my bare arms, and my eyes widened at the scars that ran across my skin on either limb. "What the hell…?" I thought aloud, and I then noted just then that my shoulders were hurting. I looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was more disheveled than my usual bedhead. I looked over my face and my brows furrowed as my eyes focused in on the reddish-black markings that nearly completely devoured my neck. What the hell happened last night? I thought. I sighed and ran a hand through my messy dark tresses as I speculated the markings pulsing over my skin before turning to the shower.

I stopped. In my peripheral, as I turned away from the mirror, I saw another contusion discoloring the skin on my shoulder from my reflection. I turned my head back to the mirror with my back facing it and I felt my breath catch in my chest, while my mouth hung open and eyes widened as I surveyed the scratches and bruises that blemished across my back and shoulders.

"What the hell is this?" I gaped. I touched the scars, tracing them, noticing that some were more tender than others. What did I do last night? I discerned another hickey on my back, this one having teeth prints around it, and my eyes widened as I stood stunned. …Or rather what or who for that matter, did me…? I measured the colorations and bruises that marred my body, and began to wonder what kind of human could do such a thing as to place these hideous claims over me, biting to the point where the imprints of his…or her teeth were still embedded into my skin the next day.

I conclude that it had to have been the work of an animal. I don't own an pet…was I mulled by some stray dog? If that's the case, then I must've tried to walk home…well at least I was rational enough not to drink and drive, but that meant that I car was still at the club…I hummed thoughtfully before realizing the thought that just popped into my head. …What the hell is wrong with me? I wasn't fucking raped by some goddamn stray! If that were the case I think I would be dead…or rather I would prefer to be.

I heaved a perplexed sigh. Fuck it. I finally thought and left it at that. Someone just got by with a free pass…I'll be sure to get tested later this week…and then I went to prepare for work, noticing while doing so that I had a sort of subtle stagger in my step. This won't due, I scowled myself. I can't show up to work like this…I'll just have to fake it until I make it. And I finished prepping myself before leaving.

X:~/~:X

I weaved through cars speedily after I had gone to pick me up a cup of coffee to try and subdue the unnecessarily painful ache pounding against my brain. I parked in an unoccupied space when I was outside my building, reasoning with myself the entire way that: since I still had my car, then I didn't walk home last night, which means I couldn't have possibly been mulled, raped or violated in any way by some stray mutt. But silently I wished I had left my car at the club, the purring of the engine resounding and emanating a roar in my head. I couldn't have been happier to have been at work and able to finaly escape from it, and turn it off.

I stepped out of the car and went into the building through the back door as I usually did, made a few turns this way and that, murmuring amiable 'hellos' to everyone I saw before approaching the locker room and depositing my things into it. I only opted to don my beige leather jacket and red and black scarf—that hid the embarrassing markings—realizing some time ago that it tended to be cold inside the building this early when the heat was turned off.

For once I was grateful to the winter weather, because I was permitted to wear my scarf to hide the hickeys, not to mention that it was incredibly warm also. But I reveled the cotton material from around me and grabbed the key hanging around my neck that opened the door to the studio.

"Hey..." I jumped a mile high as I reflexively snatched the key from around my neck, snapping the string it was attached to and hurriedly I rewrapped the scarf around my naked skin. I turned to the figure, noticing the God of my dreams standing not even ten feet away. "…Seth, right?"

This man was glorious. His name was Jacob something. I never learned his last name, but he was outstanding, and gorgeous in every aspect of the word. He was the epitome of my own personal perfection, embodying everything my heart desired—at least when it came to appearances. He was tall, nearly as tall as Paul if not taller. He was built similarly as my cousin, his shoulders a little less or more broader. He had small but brilliant brown eyes, short cropped hair and a smile that melted everything in my body. If sex appeal had an inventor, then it had to have been this man's idea, because he was appealing in every way imaginable; wet, dry, sweaty, wet, especially wet. The thoughts had me recalling my summer internship just a few months prior; his bare chest glisteing with sweaty, his hair and shirts soaked when he would pour a bottle of water over his head and roughlyrun his hands through his wet hair. The thoughts had my member twitching. The things I would do to you...

"…uh…so does the silence count as a yes?…no?…maybe?…" I noticed him staring at me. I could stare at him staring at me for the rest of life. "…okay…" He dralwed. "...never mind then..."

"Huh."

He laughed a husky laugh that sent shivers to my groin. He shook his head. "I was just saying good morning." He turned to his locker and started taking things off and putting things away inside it.

"Oh…good morning." I said, and stood their dumbly, half expecting more conversation, but I knew how the workers were, so why I expected it, I don't even know. But right as I was about to walk passed he did speak.

"So, how'd he enjoy the party last night?" He asked, a mischievousness saturating his tone as his head was buried in his locker. I could hear the smirk playing across his face. But I paid no mind, only wondering how he knew I went to a party yesterday. I hadn't told anyone...

"…Umm…fine, but how did you know I was at a party last night?" I asked skeptical as I tried to abate my inner turmoil. Oh my GOD!...was he stalking me? I tried to calm myself. He's sexy but still…that's not hot, not at all.

"Because...I was there too." He answered, looking around his still opened locker, and staring at me with his brows furrowed. "You don't remember me?" I shook my head, and the furrow of his brows deepened. "How could you not after—"

"I mean, well where, were you?" I interjected, rudely. "There were like five floors in the club I went to…Are you even sure we were at the same place?"

"Yeah," he laughed and my body tingled. "I'm positive we were…Extravaganza, right?" I nodded. "I was on the fifth floor with Paul and Rachel." My eyes broadened slightly, and I took a subtle step back.

"How do you know my cousin and his girl friend?" I asked shocked. How much of my life does he know about? He laughed again and I was certain I moaned out loud from how shudders hit my body in waves, sending erotic messages to my groin each time.

"Well considering the fact that your cousin is about to propose to my sister, then I better have gotten to know him a bit beforehand. Had to make sure he was good enough." He grinned. "He's crazy, but he checks out…plus she's crazy about him."

Wait what? I got lost somewhere in the middle. "…sister…Rachel?" He nodded and smiled. "Rachel Black?...she's your sister? Like blood sister…not just you've known her all your life and you two are just close."

He laughed again. Damn it he's going to stop laughing, or so help me GOD! I willing jump him right now! "Yeah. She's my actual sister. One hundred percent blood sister…you didn't know that?" I shook my head as my eyes grew larger. So it's…Jacob…Black? I thought. "…well I'm guessing neither of them really talk much about me then, eh? I guess that's expected since judging from yesterday they couldn't seem to get their tongues out of each other's mouths long enough to form a sentence." He chuckled.

Damn it!

"I met you yesterday…" He continued, and my shock was replaced with disbelief. I've known him for nearly a year…what the hell does he mean he met me yesterday? "…well officially anyways. But you seemed to have forgotten me, so... I'm Jacob Black. It's nice to meet you…" His hand protruded out to me and I took it tentatively.

"…Seth…Clearwater…" I answered as though I was unsure of myself.

"You sure?" He teased, and I nodded my head as I watched him smile at me again. I think I counted four, or five. I don't know, but they were all breathtaking. Then I watched as he took his hand back from mine after giving it a soft shake. "…sorry about not introducing myself earlier…we would've avoided all of this, but you know, work and all the other crap sort of tied me up from meeting, greeting, and dining you properly."

"Oh…it's o—you say what?...Dining?"

"If you don't mind." I stood in a stupor, still stupidly confused. "I still haven't figured out what silence means...so is that a yes?...no?...you'll think about it?..."

"…Oh, uh…well…I mean, I don't really know…well…uh…" I heard him laugh at me wholeheartedly, and I was certain that my face had turned a dark shade of pink. What the hell am I saying?

"Hey, Seth!" I blinked from my musing, and looked around Jacob's huge frame, noting Quil standing irately in the doorway, staring daggers through me, and I took a step back as a bone chilling shiver raced up and back down my spine. "For the last time you little pipsqueak, you're the only one that has a key to the studio this earlier. And I have been waiting for you out by the door for god knows how long, so I'm just going to ask: were you planning on coming to open the damn door anytime soon?"

My face scrunched as I winced from the hammering in my head. It had finally begun to somewhat subside before Quil started his shouting, and it came back and attacked with a vengeance I hadn't known it had against me. I looked back up at Jacob who had turned and was now staring at Quil. "S-sorry." I murmured before hearing Quil enter another tirade.

"God damn it!" He growled, turning around to walk away. "I go through this with you nearly every goddamn day…just hurry up!" Then I heard Jacob's chesty laughter before he turned around to me.

"Wow. He's not a morning person, is he?" I smiled.

"I guess not, but I really should get going and go setup before Mr. Cullen gets in." I stated as I moved around him, and I could feel his eyes on me as I walked away, and for some reason it felt good to know he was watching me leave.

"Hey!" He called, and I turned to him. "I never got an answer."

Oh yeah. "…umm, sure, why not." His smile, I concluded, was addictive, and I can't help but offer him a smile in return.

"Tonight…Give me the address later, and I'll swing by and pick you up. Sound good?" I giggled. I didn't know I knew how, but apparently after staring into his eyes for so long, a gaitey feeling started to bubble in my stomach, and it finally came up and pressed past my lips, and I giggled. "…cute." I heard him whisper, and I quickly silence myself before clearing my throat.

"…sounds good." I replied, but couldn't resist the smile that crept upon my face afterwards. I turned back after shortly remembering I still had duties to attend to before Mr. Cullen came in at eight, and I disappeared up the vestibule after cutting the corner and a few more until I reached the studio room and saw Quil still fuming, and I couldn't suppress my laughs as I watched his scowling face.

He was always like this in the morning, but he was a really nice guy after he had his coffee I noticed. In addition, he would teach me about the equipment when Mr. Cullen wasn't around, and he was a damned good teach. He just goes a little nuts in the morning, that's all.

"What?" He glared, and I shook my head.

"Nothing." I smiled, and opened the studio.

I don't know how long this story is going to be, but it was only supposed to be a one-shot that turned into something more. So it's probably going to be a short story; four or five chapters. But the chapters won't have names since this was ought to be a one-shot.

But tell me what you think, okay?