On how to find your way home | SethxOC | Post Breaking Dawn - Second Chapter
Read it also on: - FF.net - AO3 - Wattpad
Masterpost - find all the chapters: here
_______________________
Prologue: tumblr post - FF.net - AO3 - Wattpad
First Chapter - ONE: tumblr post - FF.net - AO3 - Wattpad
Third Chapter - THREE:- tumblr post - FF.net - AO3 - Wattpad
Fourth Chapter - Four: - tumblr post - FF.net - AO3 - Wattpad
For a better experience, read Cordelia’s POV listening to this: Hurricane – Fleurie.
TWO
Phasing has always been more of a gift for me rather than a curse, as any other member of the pack considers it to be. Being able to shift into a horse-size wolf and living the nature with a freedom no human can ever experience is a blessing. I have this strange feeling of liberation when I merge with my wolf spirit, I feel more myself than in human form, and every time I am upset or I need to find my inner balance, he is there for me. My wolf helped me when my father passed away, when I couldn’t pass the entrance test for Med school in Seattle, and he is helping me now not to think about the fact that I will never meet the love of my (eternal) life. Well, almost helping right now.
“Kid, you should stop being so blue. You are still young and have all the life ahead of you! Come on! Where is the always positive and smiling kid we all know you are?”
“Dead, Jared, like my expectation for a romantic relationship in the near future.” I answer, knowing exactly that I will receive a fist right in the face for being too sad if I don’t stop right now.
I hear an annoyed whine from the dark grey wolf.
The both of us phase back and get dressed before entering Emily’s and Sam’s house, where we find a laughing Claire and a tired Sam, who seems to be forced to sit on the floor and have tea with a unicorn, a teddy bear, and a stuffed wolf, whose fur is dark chocolate as Quil’s.
As always, the dining table is full of food. Poor Emily, forced to feed a bunch of overly muscled grown childish wolves. But if you ask her, she says that she is happy to take care of all of us.
Liar!
“Jared, could you please entertain Claire so Seth and Sam can set the backyard for tonight’s party?” She asks sweetly.
“Party?”, Jared and I both ask at the same time.
“Yes, it’s the last day of the holidays and Billy wanted to introduce us to his niece. Remember?” She goes on while stirring her famous Mexican chili.
“Yes, totally…” I reply trying to cover the fact that I, and also Jared, completely forgot about it.
“How the hell could you two forget?! I reminded you of tonight every single day, for an entire week!” Sam shouts, signing me to follow him in the backyard.
I just snort in reply, miming an “I dunno”. This week has been absolute hell, I have had so many online classes that I completely forgot about everything else. How could I remember that we were throwing a party if I even forgot to patrol?
***
Cordelia’s POV
It has been a hell of a week. A couple of nights ago, I had a complete mental breakdown, and for a brief moment, I thought about going back to New York. Grandpa’s house needed more work than I could have ever imagined. No one has been living here since Grandpa and Grandma passed away, so when I arrived, everything was either covered in multiples inches of dust or consumed by time.
I spent days cleaning and trying to fix the few things I could fix. Being a 17 years old spoiled brat who doesn’t even know how to change a lightbulb was not helpful at all and, at some point, I had to reach for help. I asked Billy - who asked Jacob and some of his friends, of course.
Calling my father was not an option.
So, by the end of the week, I had my new house completely fixed. The rooftop didn’t leak anymore, the floors were brand new, the walls were redecorated, and the furniture… well, it took me all my knowledge from the tv programs about house renovation and redecoration I watched in New York to fix, scratch, screw and repaint everything.
At least now it does not seem like a haunted house anymore.
The worst part of all this? The memories.
One of the reasons I have tried to renovate all the furniture and don’t throw it away is the fact that everything reminds me of my family back in the days when we were happy. All the time spent in the kitchen with Grandma, trying to help her cooking; all the days spent curled up on Grandpa’s lap while he was sitting on his yellow armchair, near the small library, watching the pouring rain falling on the deep dark green trees surrounding the little house. I remember the Christmas nights, the smell of freshly-cooked gingerbread cookies, the small Christmas tree under which I used to sit with Jake, Rachel and Rebecca, and all our cousins; the summer nights, when we used to come back from the lake, all tired and still wet from swimming all day. I remember Grandma walking towards us with her homemade lemonade and lemon tarts, which I still can’t emulate despite having inherited her cookbook with all the old family’s recipes.
Useless to say: I have spent all my nights crying, curled up in a fetal position on the master bedroom’s bed.
Because of my father's stubbornness and unjustified hate towards me and my mom, we were forced to leave La Push when I was 8 years old, and from that moment I didn’t see my family so much. My mother managed to find a job only in New York, and we were too poor to travel back and forth from and to La Push. I couldn’t live the last years of my Grandparents’ lives with them, but I called them every single day. I have spent so much time on the phone with them, sometimes sacrificing my social life and homework, but I didn’t care. And when one night, mom came into my room and told me they were gone, I couldn’t believe her. I spoke with them on the phone just a few hours back and neither in my worst nightmares could I have ever imagined that that would have been the last time. I still miss them. A huge part of me disappeared with them that day, and while still in tears, I made a promise to my beloved grandparents and our Gods: one day, I would come back home to the land I belonged, and I would live a happy life where I was supposed to have had one since I was born. And as I was closing my eyes, exhausted from crying all night, I made a second promise, this time to myself only: to not forgive him, for all the pain I was going through was his fault.
Three years ago, the night my grandparents died together in their sleep was the same night of my “accident” and since then my life completely changed, I completely changed. Little did I knew that moving back to La Push would have been the worst but the best choice of my life.
The ringing of my home phone wakes me up with a start, I look around and I am still in the bathtub, hair not washed yet, and the clock that’s ticking 5 p.m.
I quickly get out of the tub, grabbing a towel and wrapping myself in it. I try to run as fast as I can to the phone in the kitchen, thanking the Gods that the house is small and has just one floor.
“Hi, Cordelia speaking!”
“Hey, it’s me, Uncle Billy. I just called to remind you that Jake and Rachel are going to pick you up at 6:00. Is it ok for you?”
“Yes! Yes… Sure! Perfectly fine!” I answer with a squeaky voice, knowing that I will never be ready for that time.
“You’re late, aren’t ya?” Uncle Billy laughs heartily. “Like mother, like daughter”.
“Yeah… Among all the things I could inherit form her, being always late is what I got. But I’ll be ready, Uncle Billy.”
“Oh well, I hope so, otherwise you’ll stay home, kid! See you later!” He hangs up before I can say something else. Same old Uncle Billy.
I slightly shake my head while grinning, and I jog into the bathroom to finish preparing myself hopefully on time.
A triple knock on the door wakes me up from my daydreaming – for the hundredth time – and while I finish putting on my gold circle earrings, I rush to open the door, to find a beautiful Rachel waiting on the porch.
She looks at me with wide eyes, and a warm and sweet smile starts appearing on her face. We haven’t seen each other since I moved.
“Oh, Cordelia!” I hear her say in a whisper while she rushes towards the door and hugs me tight. “Hi Rachel!”, I reply returning the hug. I immediately get carried back in time: we used to see each other every day when she would come to my old house and babysit me while mom was working. She has always acted so maternal with me, maybe because she knew that what was happening between mom and Archibald was hurting me – almost traumatizing me.
“Look at you, all grown up! And you are so beautiful, you look like your mom!” She says, gently taking my hands and taking a few steps back to have a full view of my figure. I do the same. Although we have spent so many years apart and time obviously has passed, she still looks the same. She is absolutely stunning, with her long, thick, black hair pulled into a fishtail braid, only a few strands of hair falling and framing her heart-shaped face. Her eyes are as I remembered: full of life, almost electric. Rachel was a hurricane when we were younger, and something tells me that she has not changed at all.
“Not as beautiful as you. Look at your dress, it suits you so well!” And it is true. She is wearing one of those girly chiffon dresses tight at the waist, barely covering her knee, with an off-the-shoulder top ruffled all along the collarbone, colored of a dark and warm yellow that enhances her russet skin.
A honk suddenly comes from the still-running-car in the street.
Rachel snorts and turns, facing the car. “You know how rude you’re acting right, Jake!?” She almost screams, having in reply just another honk, this time longer.
I grin at the sight of the little scene.
“Let’s go, otherwise I have to commit a fratricide”, Rachel continues rolling her eyes, and she starts walking towards the car.
I nod, running inside, turning off all the lights, and finally getting in the car.
“Hi, Jake, long time no see!”, I tease him, snickering, knowing that we have been seeing each other every day for this entire week. He, Colin – who I discovered is my cousin – Brady, and Paul were in charge of fixing all the things I wasn’t able to take care of, and every day they tried to convince me that the house was so messed up that it would have been easier to take it down and rebuild it again.
“Hi Cordelia, house still up I see. Congrats!” he replies, speeding up towards our destination.
During this week, Jacob and I had the time to reconnect with each other. He didn’t even remember me, nor he knew what had happened. We were not so close when we were children, he used to play always with his friends. He knew I existed and that of course his father had one sister who lived in another State, but that’s all. I have told him just the minimum amount of things, so he could connect the dots. I avoided all the details, which were known only by Uncle Billy, Rachel and her twin Rebecca, and our grandparents.
After a quick car ride, full of laughs, we arrive at a two-story characteristic La Push house, all built in dark wood. From the sliding front door, made of clear glass, I can see that many people are already inside, laughing and enjoying themselves.
I start to feel nervous. I don’t know how many people in the Rez are aware of what happened to me and mom, and I surely don’t want to explain anything to anyone. Moreover, my guts are telling me that something is going to happen. Something bad, I guess hopelessly.
Jake and Rachel get quickly out of the car. I take advantage of these few seconds alone to take a deep breath, maybe two, and blocking my shaking hands. Why am I so nervous? I have been dreaming about this day for nine years.
What if they don’t want me here? What if I don’t fit in? What if I have to go back to New York for some strange reason? What if they hate me because of what happened?
A knock on the windows awakens me from my negative and oppressive thoughts.
I hurry outside the car, hiding my shaking hands behind my back. My heart suddenly starts racing and I can feel my throat becoming sore.
Jake and Rachel open the front door, letting me enter first. I try to hide what is becoming a real panic attack. I feel my cheeks becoming warmer and warmer and I hope no one is watching.
“Hi! We brought a guest!” They say in unison, making everyone in the room staring at the three of us.
I gulp, trying to smile naturally and not resemble a psycho.
I wave to everyone present in the room, noticing that other people are coming from the backyard. I can tell my cheeks are burning, so they all can see that I am blushing, or better on fire.
“Everyone, this is Cordelia. Cordelia, this is… well, a huge and chaotic family”. Says Jacob, introducing me and gently pushing me away from the front door, towards the crowd.
All the guests wave to me or greet me and they start coming near me to introduce themselves.
“Hi Cordelia, it’s so nice to finally meet you. Billy couldn’t speak about anything else but you in the last month. I am Sam Uley, and this is my wife Emily.” A man with copper skin and cropped black hair, fully native and full of muscles introduces himself and his wife, whose gracious face is half covered in deep scars. Still, she is absolutely gorgeous, she’s almost glowing. Both of them gently smile at me.
“Hi! It’s so nice to meet both of you!” I reply, with a similar smile. After them, everyone starts introducing themselves. I find myself surrounded by smiles and kind eyes. They were all so welcoming and, as Jacob said a few minutes later, really chaotic.
While introducing me to other people, Billy takes me to the backyard, where more other people were waiting for their turn to see the freak from New York.
I can see a forty years old woman with full native traits, like Billy’s, and dark brown eyes approaching me. She stretches out a hand, covered in many ethnic rings.
“Hi, I am Sue Clearwater, and these are my daughter Leah and my son Seth!” She kindly greets me while shaking my hand and getting near me to give me a slight and kind hug.
Next to her, the other two very-tall figures are standing.
“Hi, I’m Leah, nice to meet you”. The girl says. She looks exactly like Rachel and – what is her name? Oh right! – Emily and she is as gorgeous as them. Her short hair framing her diamond shape face makes her beautiful like a model from those fancy fashion magazines.
“Nice to meet you!” I reply, looking in her eyes and smiling again.
“And I am Seth, I was really curious to know you!” The boy says in a husky voice, chuckling, making me giggle and forcing me to take my eyes from his sister and looking at him.
The very moment our eyes meet, something inside me changes, I can literally feel a click in my stomach. It’s a feeling I can hardly describe with words. Those eyes remind me of something I have already seen, they are so dark, so deep and it seems like they are fathoming every inch of my soul. I can’t take my eyes off him, I keep staring at him, scared by these sudden emotions, but at the same time ecstatic, like I am looking at something I was searching for my entire life. I feel like hundreds, millions of steel strings are tying me to him, to those eyes in which I want to be lost forever. I blush, immediately, and my heart starts racing so quickly I think I am going to faint in front of him.
All the bad feelings that were hunting me few seconds before completely disappeared, they vanished like the void I have always felt in my chest for 9 years, and all I want to do now is never leave is side. I feel home. That is all I can think.
I look in his eyes, and I feel home. I keep wondering where I have seen them, they look familiar.
“Hi… I’m-I’m sorry…” I bubble, holding the hand he had previously stretched out for me and gently shaking it. It was warm, almost burning, but I found it comforting.
“Uhm…Ha-Have we ever met before?” I say in a low and soft voice. I don’t want all the others to hear, I feel like this should be an intimate moment between me and this gangly boy who makes me strangely feel so alive and so in peace with the universe.
He keeps staring at me, with his wide and liquid dark brown eyes. On his face I can read the same emotions I am feeling right now, or better I know that he feels exactly what I am feeling and vice versa. I feel connected to him physically and emotionally, and I find myself depending on his words or actions. I am waiting for him, to speak, to move. I suddenly want to hear his voice again.
After a few other moments of silence, he smiles at me, a loving and precious smile that makes my heart skip a beat.
All I want is him, all I can think about is him.
In less than a second, Seth Clearwater has become my everything.