I got out of bed and dawdled into the kitchen slash lounge slash dining area. It must have been some really early hour of the morning, but surprisingly, people were up. I guessed the nature of the boys' job wouldn't make it abnormal for them to be up and around at all hours of the day. Emily was awake too. She was in the kitchen, whipping up some breakfast no doubt.

"Alright you kids," she warned, "Your shift is starting now, so you better head out soon, before Jacob comes in here to get you himself."

There were a few groans and sighs as the boys filed out the front door, one by one, none of whom were looking too excited. Quil quickly pecked my forehead before following out behind the rest of them happily. I popped myself up on to the kitchen bench, while Emily moved around her workspace.

"Oh hi, Claire. I didn't know you were awake," she greeted.

"Yeah, thought I'd come and say hello. We haven't really talked since I got here. I've been quite…occupied. Sorry."

She smiled. "No, it's fine. I understand. Trust me, I understand. It's a lot to deal with but I'm glad it all worked out. You made the right decision."

The right decision.

Little did she know it wasn't me who made it. It was fate's meddling in my business. Sending voices through my head, and assaulting my dreams with Quil had acted as a catalyst to get me to where I was now. There was never a decision. It was already decided.

"Thanks," I told her anyway, "I just hope Quil doesn't get too sick of driving back and forth to Seattle to see me."

She laughed at this before speaking. "Oh, he won't. I haven't seen that boy so alive in a long time. He'll do it gladly. You've really brought him back to life, Claire. Thank you."

I contemplated for a second, before speaking again.

"Emily?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

She was still bent into the fridge as we spoke, so I couldn't see her initial reaction when I continued.

"What is supposed to happen with Quil and I now?"

I heard the jumbling of fridge items stop, and her head popped back up over the door.

"Oh," she responded, "Well…that's really up to you and Quil to decide."

I sighed. "But Quil won't decide. He wants me to, and I don't know how I feel about just forcing him into something I'm not even sure of myself."

Her forehead creased a little, and she didn't say anything.

"Did Sam make you decide? Is that how you're together now? You chose this?" I asked, curiously.

"No…it was different for Sam and I. We never had to…decide what role he would take up. I was already an adult when we met. There was never any…rearrangement of boundaries."

Great.

"It's up to you and Quil. I'm sure you'll figure it out, Claire. One way or another, you'll see. There'll be some sort of sign."

I wanted to roll my eyes.

A sign.

I had become so used to the idea of just putting clues together and finding my answer that way. I guess I'd been hoping for some cryptic, philosophical epiphany to overcome me again. But I guess fate can only lead you so far, and at some point it has to take a holiday and let you do some of the work.

--

Daylight was slowly approaching and I went back to my room to lie on my bed. I'd really messed up my sleeping patterns since I got here.

After a few quiet and peaceful minutes, I was beginning to drift when I heard a tapping at my window that kindly scared the life out of me. I hadn't drawn the curtain open since I got here. It was thin enough to see whether it was night or day behind it, so I never really bothered to open or close it. Before I even reached it though, I could hear the window somehow slide open from the outside and Quil's body was climbing through, into my room.

"Quil, what are you doing? I have a door, you know."

He smiled and took a seat on my bed, after pulling the curtains apart – almost blinding me with the outside light.

"Just wanted to say hi."

"Hi," I chirped.

He laughed. He was so happy. Glowing even.

"Aren't you supposed to be on patrol right now?"

"Yeah, but I stole away quickly to come and see you. Not much going on today. Vampires aren't really in season, you know?"

He smiled again, seeming to find his joke amusing.

I didn't like the way he talked about the vampires so casually. The way they had been described in stories here told me that vampires were not something to joke about. Even just sitting here thinking about him getting hurt had me clasping my hand over my chest, subconsciously testing to see if I could actually feel my heart breaking.

"Claire? You okay?" he asked, concerned now.

"What if something happens to you? What if the vampires–"

"–They won't," he interrupted, automatically.

"But how can you know that for sure?" I asked, doubtful.

"I can take care of myself. We can take care of ourselves. As a pack, we're too strong for any vampires to hurt. Trust me."

And with that simple reassurance, I did.

With imprinting, comes some inbuilt glitch that makes you trust the other person whole-heartedly, with or without reason. I believed him now. I knew if he said the vampires wouldn't hurt him, then they wouldn't. But the thought of him hurting in any capacity, even if not at the fault of a vampire had me concerned again. I remembered the pained expression he wore during our talks earlier, and how much it hurt me in return.

His hurt would always be my hurt. His happiness would always be my happiness. I understood imprinting now, completely.

He was still sitting on the bed watching me now. Waiting for me to say something, like he always did.

Waiting for me to rearrange my thoughts.

Waiting for me to calm down after always snapping stubbornly at him.

Waiting for me to understand the mechanics behind phasing into a werewolf.

Waiting all those years for me to come back and find him.

Waiting for me to decide what we were.

And patiently, at that.

He was patient and kind, while I was impatient and stubborn.

He truly was my other half.

I knew it then, I didn't need a sign. I didn't need fate to tell me what choice to make. It didn't matter anymore. I wanted to be with Quil. To really be with Quil. I could see clearly now that we were equal like I wanted. He thought imprinting was about him taking care of me. But after seeing him only ten minutes ago in the kitchen, he was already back here climbing through my window. He needed me as much as I needed him. Hopeless, beautiful boy.

I looked at him now, and I could see him. Not Quil, but the boy from my dreams that had never left me. The voice that had saved me. The hallucinations that followed me, even when I wanted to escape them. They were always there. Quil would always be there. I didn't need a signal anymore. I didn't need any fateful sign sent from a higher being, telling me what to decide. Quil was literally, my dreams come true. What more could I ask for?

I smiled at the boy from my dreams, still sitting patiently waiting for me to say something.

I didn't speak this time.

Instead, I leaned in and climbed into his lap, testing his resistance. When he didn't flinch, I slowly curled my hands around his neck and pulled myself in to kiss him. I didn't know if this was what he wanted, but if it wasn't then it was too bad for him because this is what I wanted and as his imprint, he had to do as I said. He would just have to get used to it.

I could feel him smiling against my lips now, so I surmised he didn't mind at all. Which was good, because I was beginning to really enjoy myself. Suddenly, imprinting seemed like a lot more fun and a lot less stress.

It was an intensely passionate and desperate kiss; all the emotions of his that had left with me years ago, I was giving back to him in return. I felt his arms wrap around my back as he pulled me in closer to his body, burning me against his skin. Our lips gradually parted, and he let out a slow and heavy breath. We sat with our foreheads leaning against one another for a moment, and then he smiled and talked against my lips.

"So.. I take it you've decided what you want me to be then?"

I smiled in return at his smugness. "I think I'll keep you as my butler."

He laughed at this and softly kissed me again, then took me into his embrace.

My head sat over his shoulder as we hugged, and that's when I saw it.

Looking out the open window, it was plain and clear.

Sitting at this angle, the forest outside the window was the exact image I had painted on my canvas.

From the trees, to the shadows, to even the moss growing on the three rocks to the left of the forest floor. The multiple shades of green paint I had blended, impeccably matched the leaves and vines that hung off the identically positioned branches. The color of the sky was so bright—rare to penetrate through a forest—but it was there, the blinding light shining through the forest trees. Exactly the same strange way I had painted it.

The window frame perfectly squared the edges of my canvas.

It was my forest painting, come to life, and I would only have only recognized it by sitting in this position.

I knew it then. There was my sign.

Fate was reassuring me that I belonged here,

in Quil's arms.

-

The End.

-