{Laughter}

She loved the sound of his laughter. He laughed so loudly, so often, that one could be sure of his mood simply by listening to it. She loved how it filled the room whenever any of the pack made a joke, or even when they were just fooling around. Whenever he laughed, she knew that everything would be right with the world, that it was okay to breathe again.

Unlike her own, his laughter was always filled with warmth, with care. Out of everything that made him the man that she loved: his tall stature, russet skin, shaggy black hair, it was his booming laugh that distinguished him from the rest of the mutant wolves. To her, they all paled in comparison.

There were times when she hated that laughter. When it rang out around the half-vampire, Renesmee, g-d, she hated it. When it was heard just for that brat, she nearly exploded into a wolf, every single goddamned time. She had lost far too much clothing that way, with him laughing about it every time, teasing her, then snuggling up to her warm body minutes later. There was never any laughter when she mentioned his young imprint. He would always become completely serious, his face screwed up in a picture of thought before assuring her that he would never leave. That he would only love her. That he would try to forget the little girl. She wouldn't believe him until it happened.

She wanted the laughter she loved to continue; she wanted it to grow. And although she loved his laughter, she loved him enough forget about him and let him spend the rest of his life with Nessie. Running to Canada seemed like a good option.

**

He hated the sound of her laughter. It was cold, malicious, and most always at someone's expense. Too much pain and heartbreak had warped her laughter, once happy and filled with love, into a signal of misfortune. He hated how it could cause a room to go quiet with a sound, how it filled the area with an awkward silence. Because if she laughed, the whole pack knew they were in trouble.

The opposite of his own laughter, her laughter's sole purpose was to keep others away and to hold them at a chilly distance. He hated that most of the time, he and Sam had somehow caused her painful laugh. What bothered him the most was that they had both hurt her in the same way.

When it was just the two of them, alpha and beta, he loved her laughter. Because when they were alone, her laughter changed to a musical, happy laugh. When the two werewolves disregarded all that was happening around them, she acted truly happy with the laughter to match it. Whenever he would make a lewd comment or unexpectedly kiss her, he loved watching her reaction, the laughter before the routine practice of smacking him. They would lay in his bed together at night, talking about the future. He swore he wouldn't leave her; she would laugh. Though they were obviously alone, it would be not the happy laughter that escaped her lips, but the malicious kind that he hated. Whenever she laughed like that, he must have done something wrong, displeased her in some way. Therefore, he resolved to always be with her, to protect the laughter that he loved and to keep away the laughter he hated. After all, he couldn't have her running off to Canada, could he?

So, I finally wrote a Twilight story. Sorry. But uh, I like reviews! For the record, I used to be Sayuri_Princess, but now I'm Shedim. So, still me. Yeah.