Breathing is such a simple concept.
So why can't you seem to remember how to do it?
You feel like that was a short circuit in your brain or maybe you just had some kind of stroke because, at the moment, all you can think about is that sliver of tanned skin exposed in between Alex's shirt and jeans.
She had reached her arms above her head and stretched her entire body like she was some sort of cat.
It's entirely possible that you're drooling right now, but your mouth hasn't ever felt this dry.
You glance away from her, your cheeks burning and your mind still shut off.
And your eyes land on Justin.
He's staring at her too, his eyes on the same strip of skin that caused you to act more like a puppy than you were ordinarily comfortable with. His eyes are nearly black and one corner of his mouth is upturned in a hungry smirk.
He looks more like a wolf than you ever do.
You continue looking at him, trying to figure out why he has that expression on his face and trying to not think about the sliver of skin exposing your girlfriend's sharp hipbones and smooth stomach and flawless, golden skin.
You glanced away from her, some centuries old sense of propriety so ingrained in you that you can't properly enjoy the view your girlfriend unwittingly provided.
Justin never even blinks.
That was the first moment that you realized there was something else between the two of them. Before, it had seemed like any other relationship.
But now you were noticing inconsistencies.
Sometimes, Justin stared at Alex like he had never seen anything like her before in his life. He'd stand to close when they were working and look too long when she came downstairs all dressed up for a date with you.
She did it too. She would glance at him out of the corner of her eyes when you were talking to her and abandon whatever she was doing to argue with him. She'd always take his phone calls, even if you were in the middle of a date, and no matter how much she teased him, she would do anything that he asked, simply because he asked it.
Once you started to notice all these things, all these moments that were nothing more than evidence that your girlfriend was slipping away from you, you're slightly ashamed to say you began to act a little out of control.
You took her phone from her at the beginning of dates and turned it off, kissing her whenever she protested. You'd step between the two of them whenever they were looking at each other and you'd always say her name to regain her attention as soon as you noticed her glancing towards him.
You thought that you were being subtle about it, and certainly Alex and Justin were too busy missing each other to notice what you were doing, but Harper had begun to stare at you slightly suspiciously. You weren't sure what she was suspicious about, or what she thought you were doing, but she continued to glance at you whenever you did something to further separate Alex and Justin.
You wish you could say that you were horrified at what you were doing, that you thought it was wrong and that you never would have done it, if only you hadn't loved Alex so much.
But that isn't the truth.
The truth is that you loved Alex, but you were mostly jealous and hurt. You didn't want to be left for another man, let alone someone that she was related to.
You aren't really sure if they knew at that point. If they were aware about how their actions would be construed, about how the way they treated each other wasn't really normal.
But that didn't matter.
What mattered is that they did act differently.
What mattered is that they paid attention to each other, over everyone else.
What mattered is that they were in love.
And that was why you weren't horrified at your actions.
You were a werewolf. You were overly emotional and possessive and you loved Alex and she was supposed to be all yours. But then Justin ruined all of it.
So, no, you didn't feel bad.
Actually, you felt something else.
You felt vindicated.
You continued to occupy all of Alex's time, politely speaking with her mother in order to get invitations to family dinners and offering to help Jerry in the substation whenever Justin complained. You allowed Max to talk to you about his dreams of having a Werewolf Thanksgiving and you even spoke to Justin at the dinners you conned your way into.
And Alex was yours.
You know that possessiveness isn't necessarily an attractive trait. That in this day and age, women are their own people, not possessions for men to have.
But that didn't really concern you.
Much like your sense of what was proper and what was gentlemanly, the sense that women were there for you to marry had been inserted in your mind. As much as times have changed, you're still the same person. You still think the same way that you have for the past few centuries, and you still believe the same things.
You believe that women, while not possessions, should remain faithful without ever faltering in their devotions.
And that's just the way it is.
You think that people should respect other's relationships and that cheating is simply unacceptable, no matter the reason.
It doesn't matter that they weren't actually doing anything, that they weren't kissing or sleeping together or any other physical actions that occurred between two people in love, they were still in love.
And that wasn't okay.
Alex was supposed to love you.
And only you.
Things continued to get worse.
Your tactics for separating the two of them were no longer working and Harper had progressed to hissing every time she saw you, like some angry cat. Now Alex yelled if you took her phone and when you stepped between the two, they simply spoke around you.
You were losing what little control you had.
And it was driving you insane.
"FINE! Just leave me for him again! I don't care!" you screamed, your voice cracking when you say him.
"Excuse me? I'm not leaving you for anybody! I'm leaving you because you're a jealous jackass and I'm tired of defending all my actions to you!" she yells back, her voice twice as shill as yours and possibly even more furious. "AND because our date is over with!"
"Whatever. The only reason that you even dragged me on this date," you spit, the word dripping with scorn, "is because you wanted to get a present for Justin."
"That's not true! It's his birthday this weekend and I had to get a present for him so my parents didn't freak out on me. Kind of like you are right now!" she's still yelling, but it's slightly quieter than it was because she noticed that people passing the two of you were beginning to stop and stare.
"Right. Because all sisters buy their brothers four, extremely personal presents to please their parents." You snarl back at her, your hands clenched into angry fists and your eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. You're just so unbelievably furious at this entire situation.
"He's my Justin," she growls back, her eyes widening and her hand going to cover her mouth as soon as she registers her words and suddenly your just very, very tired.
You're tired of being angry, of wanting someone who doesn't want you back. You're tired of scheming and of doubting and of this whole ordeal.
"Mason," she whispers, the words muffled by the fingers that are still draped over her lips. Her eyes are full of shock and regret and terror and you just can't stand this anymore.
You've spent this entire time fighting for her, justifying your actions in your mind by telling yourself that she was yours, and that chivalry and honor demanded she stay that way.
But there was a flaw in your reasoning, one that you didn't see until now.
She wasn't yours.
She was Justin's, and everyone knew it.
You close your eyes against the surprise and remorse on her face and rub a hand over our face, trying to ignore the burn in the back of your eyes and the sharp pain pounding against your temples.
You remember dates full of art and laughter, a sliver of warm golden skin and smooth hipbones. You think about all the good times, a glowing red heart and how everything was before Juliet got too old and you turned into a wolf.
She did love you, at some point.
But then it faded away, replaced by something stronger, something all consuming that you simply couldn't compete with.
She wasn't yours to fight for.
You walk from the store without a glance back, leaving behind the girl that you fought too hard for and loved too much with regret in her eyes and Justin's presents in her hands.
It's a long time before you see them again, before you dare to enter New York City.
It's long enough that Max has all the family power and is creating new sandwiches in the substation that was given to him once Jerry and Teresa retired. They had retired to just outside of Manhattan, close enough to their children but far enough from the loudness of the city.
You meet with Max over coffee, his awe of your werewolf status not diminished over the years. He tells you that he hasn't settled down, that he was still looking for the right witch to love and he wasn't in any real hurry.
You smile at him and ask where they are.
He smiles back and gives you an address, his eyes full of questions but he doesn't ask a single one.
You arrive at a house in the suburbs on the opposite side of the city as the elder Russos, your heart pounding and your palms sweaty.
You sit in your car outside their house, two stories with a white picket fence and more than one dog. A cobblestone sidewalk leads to a welcome mat and a red front door, flowers blooming on both sides of the pathway and grass spreading out beyond that.
Alex comes out first, a thermos in one hand and a paint-smeared apron in the other, glasses on her face with her hair, threaded through with silver, pulled into a messy knot on top of her head.
She's as beautiful as she's always been.
She turns around to yell at someone, a smile lighting her eyes even as she screamed at someone named Brandon to hurry up.
A small child with dark brown hair and gleaming green eyes runs from the house, a blue backpack clutched in one hand while the other hand tried to stuff a mess of papers into the bag as he ran. Alex laughs at him and helps him put the papers in his bag, tousling his hair affectionately.
She yells again, this time for someone named Taylor, and a girl that looks about the same age as the boy sprints outside with a pink backpack already secure over her shoulders. She smiles at Alex and shoves the boy on her way to the car, sliding into the SUV as the boy chased her.
Justin strides from the house last, locking it behind him while juggling a briefcase a thermos and the car keys.
You can hear Alex's giggle all the way from the car as she strides over to him and presses a kiss to his lips, grabbing the keys and running to the car after shoving him, much as her daughter just did.
You close your eyes as the familiar jealousy and resentment begin to burn their way through your body, only reopening them when you hear a car start up.
When you open your eyes, they lock onto a pair of serious grey-green, Justin's eyes trained on you like they once were on Alex, although now they were filled with threat instead of lust.
You simply nod and start your car, pulling away from the curb and vowing to yourself to stay away from the Russos from now on.
The only reason you came was to prove something that you already knew.
She wasn't yours to fight for.
She was never yours to fight for.
All right. Someone requested a Mason POV, I don't remember who, but here you go. I hope it isn't OOC but I've only seen two or three episodes with Mason in them. So. Unbeta'd and written in about two hours, so apologies for any choppiness and/or grammatical errors.
If you read my other stories, then you know I ended my oneshot in Juliet's POV much the same way I did this one. It totally wasn't intentional, but I think it works out well as they were in pretty similar situations and had pretty similar personalities (at least in my opinion).
Anyways. Hope you enjoyed.
Disclaimed. Tell me your thoughts. Thanks for reading.