This is the continuation of Distance. And I'm guessing that it still isn't done yet ;)

This story is told from Paul's perspective and it was inspired by that adorable ginger, Ed Sheeran. Gosh to cuddle with him *sigh*... a girl can dream. Was listening to the entire album for the first time (Yes I know..what was I waiting for?) and I heard the song Sunburn, which happens to be the title of the story and I was hooked and the words started flowing. Listen to the album, it's awesome and I hope you enjoy the story. Once again, I'm not SM.

Sunburn

The sun hitting his face woke him, or maybe it was the warm body next to his, moving slightly in its slumber, that did the trick.

Whatever it was, he suddenly wished that it didn't.

His eyes opened and focused on the brown hair that was strewn across his arm.

His heart ached at the sight.

That's what had drawn him to her last night in the bar.

Long, brown hair with soft curls.

Just like hers.

It had been weeks since he had been home.

He was avoiding her and everything that reminded him of her.

Evidently he was doing a piss poor job of it because here he was lying in bed with a woman who looked remotely like the one he was running away from.

She had smiled shyly at him when he first approached her. Her eyes twinkling, reflecting the light in the room.

Brown eyes.

He was completely fucked.

They had talked for a while, mindless conversation that he hadn't paid much attention to, but she seemed to like it.

"Would you like to go somewhere more private?" he had asked.

She had agreed eagerly, and they left, her tiny hands gripping his arms tightly.

He didn't even know her name.

It didn't matter to him anyway.

She tried to kiss him, that was not going to happen.

This was only about sex, he had told her.

She had looked hurt but had shrugged and continued doing what she was doing.

His eyes closed on their own accord as she sank to her knees, her fingers deftly taking his burgeoning erection out. An erection he fought to keep because every time he looked at her and realized that she wasn't who he wanted to be with, it deflated.

With his eyes closed she was there. It was her that was on her knees in front of him, giving him pleasure.

If only he could keep his eyes closed all the time.

It hurt him.

Touching her, being inside her, being intimate with this woman who was not her.

His wolf howled piteously and clawed to get out at the grave injustice that was being committed to their imprint, even if she wasn't aware of it.

He was strong though, and he fought the wolf, kept him at bay and under control until he finally gave up and whined with every thrust, every brush of skin against skin.

And still it hurt.

He felt as though he were going to die, gasping for air, his throat closing over, the tightness in his chest, made him aware of how a person with asthma felt during an attack.

Luckily the woman writhing under him didn't seem to notice.

She was lost in a world of ecstasy while his world seemed to be crumbling around him.

When he rolled off of her, she wrapped her small frame around his much larger one and snuggled close.

He took a deep breath, his stomach in turmoil as her scent wafted into his sensitive nostrils.

Her scent was wrong.

She didn't smell like spring.

He had closed his eyes and drifted to sleep, racing to find the one face that tortured his soul, but it also soothed him.

Bella.

Now here he was, waking next to a poor substitute for her.

He needed to get out of there before she woke up, there was no way he could do pleasantries or whatever people did after sleeping with a random stranger. After easing from the bed and getting dressed he cast another glance at the bed, the brown curls taunting him again.

His gut reacted violently and he fled the room, barely making it to the cover of the trees before he was sick. He dry retched into the ground as the pain ate away at his insides. His wolf quiet and smug, almost as if he was glad for the suffering he was enduring.

Taking off the shirt he was wearing, he wiped his mouth and threw it to the ground in disgust. Striding into the forest, and making sure he was alone, he took of his pants and phased.

*Sunburn*

No sooner had his paws touched the earth, he was bombarded by his brothers. They were all talking at once and he growled at them. He didn't need their bullshit now.

Paul! Where've you been?

Sam's been going ape shit over your little disappearance.

Jake's gonna kick your furry ass all over La Push.

Seth, Embry and Quil were patrolling and they had felt him phase in.

He didn't feel like talking to anyone.

Fuck off.

Sam's gonna string you up by the balls man, Jared said with a laugh.

You imprinted on Bella Swan and then hightailed it outta here, Seth said, his young mind showing flashes of that night on the beach.

Paul almost lost his footing when Seth showed the memory of Bella crying after he had left.

Before he could reply another wolf phased in, Jared.

His best friend.

You look like shit, the wolf greeted.

Thanks, Paul said with a snort.

The rest of you phase out and head home. I've got it from here, Jared said.

He was the pack Beta, so the three younger wolves did as told and soon left Paul and Jared alone.

So, Bella Swan huh?, Jared began.

Paul growled, Leave it alone Jared.

How long? When did it happen? We all know it didn't happen that night on the beach.

Paul huffed and showed Jared the memory of when he imprinted.

Jesus, that long? How come we didn't know? Then again, he went on answering his own question, you've always been better at keeping your thoughts private. So what are you going to do about it?

Nothing.

And then he phased out, he had reached home.

Everything was almost the same as he'd left it.

Almost.

*Sunburn*

He pushed open his door, his chest heaving from the run. A breeze blew on his heated skin and with it came the smell.

Spring.

A fresh spring rain.

She had been here.

In his house.

Pain gripped him again and he gritted his teeth, trying to regain some semblance of control. Woodenly his feet propelled him inside the house, the scent lingering on every piece of the sparse furniture he had. His hand hovering over the back of his chairs, over the table, it all smelled like her.

His wolf was frothing at the mouth, salivating as the scent flooded their senses. The need to see her, to touch her, was almost unbearable. He moved towards his bedroom, bracing himself for what was to come.

The door was slightly ajar and for a minute he thought she was still there; waiting for him.

He gave the door a small shove, pushing it back to reveal an empty room.

No Bella there.

And his heart ached.

Her scent, however, was strongest here. She had been in his room longest. One of his T-shirts lay on the chair where he had left it, but there was something different about it now, now it smelled like her. She had touched it, had held it to her. Smelling him in it, maybe it had brought her a moment of peace. His hands reached out and snatched it up and his face buried in the soft material, a potpourri of her; her and saline.

She had been crying.

Because of him.

He felt a stab of pain encircle his heart at the thought of her hurting in any way.

The thought that he had failed her, weighed him down and he sunk to his knees next to the bed, and he felt the wetness on his own face before he realized he was crying.

She was his.

He was supposed to protect her, keep her warm and safe, from everything. Nothing was supposed to make her sad, not even him.

He was hers.

He understood that now.

All the while he'd been running away from things, trying to escape the inevitable. Everything was muddled, his thoughts had been a jumble, screaming in his head. A cacophony of confusion. He had longed for her, to hold her, to talk to her.

Really talk to her.

He had missed her.

He needed her beside him, where she belonged.

It was pure selfishness on his part, not once had he thought of the effect it would have on her. He had been afraid that he would taint her, he would destroy the purity she had within her. He thought he would burn her.

Sobs racked his body as he clutched the shirt close to him, releasing all the weeks of pain he had caused both her and himself. When he got himself together a few minutes later, his eyes landed on his bed.

The single sheet of paper seemed to burn itself into his corneas.

He clambered to his feet shakily and took the paper gingerly between his fingers, reading the words she had written. He devoured the words like a man who had just found an oasis after traveling miles across the desert without a drop of water.

Everything that he had just realized was written down on that sheet of paper.

She was his.

She accepted him for who he was.

She was made for him.

And he chased her away.

He was on his feet and running full-out without even noticing what was going on around him. All that was on his mind was that he had to find her, he had to find his Bella.

"Paul!" the voice registered in his mind as he came to an abrupt halt.

"Where is she Em?" he asked the woman standing in front of him, a look of pity on her face.

"She's not here," she said softly. "She left a while ago, and she hasn't been back since."

She was gone.

"Gone," he said, his voice cracking.

Emily shook her head, "No, not gone. Not yet."

His eyes met hers, the desperation she saw reflected there, nearly crippled her.

"You can fix this Paul," she went on after a moment. "Only you."

"She loves me," he said.

Emily nodded, "Yes."

"Even with my...even though she knows who I am."

"None of that matters to her Paul," Emily said with a smile. "She loves you."

"I have to go," he said, his hands tightening around the paper in his hand.

"Go get her," Emily whispered as she watched him lope of at an inhuman pace, much later as she retold Sam what had transpired, they both were wondering why he hadn't phased.

*Sunburn*

He had no idea how he got to her house without running into anyone. That would've been something to explain, but at the time he didn't care about that, his main focus was to get to her.

To see the face that haunted his every thought, be he asleep or wide awake.

To see the smile that warmed his entire being.

Luckily the chief was at work, but he could hear the hum of the television coming from inside alerted him to the fact that she was home.

He rang the doorbell, waiting impatiently as moths took root in his stomach, his mouth suddenly dry.

No one would ever believe the day that he, Paul Lahote, had been rendered dumbstruck at the thought of seeing a woman.

Hell, he was shaking in his skin, literally.

The wolf was agitated. Excitement ripping through him at the prospect of seeing their imprint, the need to be near her, had gone into hyper-drive.

He rang the doorbell again and he listened closely, waiting to hear her footfalls move towards the door.

A few seconds passed and then he heard them and his wolf howled within. They could smell her, and soon they would see her and they would both be at peace.

The door opened and there she was.

She had been crying again, her face was blotchy and her eyes were red rimmed.

And she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life.

The paper in his had rubbed against a scar he had gotten when he was six.

He had been sunburned and he had scratched the skin, only making it worse, and this spot in particular had gotten a scar.

Bella was like that sunburn.

No matter how much he tried to get rid of her, to erase her from his life, she was there. Scarring him, making a permanent mark on his soul, just as the sunburn had left.

He had thought that he would be the one to burn her, but was he ever wrong.

She had dealt the blow and it was a fatal one.

He was irrevocably hers, for all eternity.

Standing there looking down at her, a shy smile stole across his face, and he waited for her to say something.

"You," she whispered, her voice scratchy.

"I got your letter," he said, waving the paper in front of her face.

She nodded, her mouth slightly open, her eyes drinking in the sight of him.

"You're here," she said, her voice stronger this time.

His wolf was doing the happy wolf dance and he wanted to join in.

"I'm here."

"Where did you go?" she asked, tilting her head to one side.

He shook his head, flashes of the unknown woman coming unbidden to his mind, "It doesn't matter. I'm here now."

Bella nodded, "Here. With me."

"I missed you," he said.

"Did you?" she asked leaning against the door, and to the casual observer it would probably look as though she were leaning there coolly, but to his trained eye and maybe because of the imprint, he knew it was to keep her body from crashing to the floor in a pile of goo.

"We should talk," he said.

"Aren't we talking now?" she replied.

"I'd like to take you out," he stammered out.

Her eyes widened, those pools of milk chocolate, and she frowned.

"On a date?" she asked.

"Look," he said running a hand through his head, "I have no idea what I'm doing here, all I know is that I feel...everything for you."

"I feel the same," she said.

"And I think we owe it to ourselves to see where this could go, right?" he finished.

Her answering smile and the small leap she made into his arms, made him the happiest man on Earth.

I love you.

The words burned his throat, wanting to let her know how he felt, but he wanted to do this right. Yes, he accepted that they belonged together, but he wanted them to do things the way normal people did them. Go out on dates, get to know each other better, and all that other jazz, before they took the plunge and say those words aloud.

I love you.

He could see the unsaid phrase shouting back at him from her eyes, but she didn't say the words either.

Just being there, in each other's arms was enough for now. They'd go from here and see where the journey took them.

And as he held her body in his arms, letting her warmth seep into his bones, feeling the love emitting from her body, he knew one thing.

This was just the beginning.

A/N: Tadaaaaa! There you have it, the second installment of the Paul/Bella Saga. Hope you enjoyed. Hate it, love it? Let me know ~ Riney xoxo