CHAPTER SEVEN:
THE FULL NAME

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THERE WAS SOMETHING STRANGELY peaceful about being outside at 10pm. An odd kind of silence had blanketed La Push, the cold air biting yet comforting against Maggie's skin. Sitting on the beach, the moonlight shining soft against the smooth surface of the water broken only by the tiniest of waves, she could almost forget the dark red eyes that haunted her dreams, joined by the newest addition of two unfamiliar yet recognisable faces. Like old friends she couldn't remember the name of, they lingered in every thought. Only Maggie was certain they were not her friends.

It was stupid of her to be out alone. Maggie knew that, no matter how peaceful it was. If anyone got up to check on her while she was gone — something she knew they did even if they never addressed it — they'd panic at the sight of her empty bed with the sheets thrown around like someone had dragged her away. They wouldn't stop to notice the absence of her shoes or Scooby. They'd just see that fragile little Maggie had disappeared and nothing good could ever come from that. She hated it sometimes, no matter how much she loved them, that nothing was the same anymore because of her. They didn't know that, of course, but her counsellor did.

Breathing out a sigh, Maggie glanced down at the dog perched on her lap, tongue hanging from the side of his mouth as he stared at the water with longing eyes. Maggie kept a tight hold on his leash, her other hand scratching the top of his head.

"Aunty Wren would kill me if I let you swim, Scooby," she chuckled to him, lips quirking in amusement when Scooby seemed to understand her and frowned. "Sorry, buddy, maybe next time."

"You have a habit of talking to yourself, Sullivan?"

Maggie swore then and there that her heart fell out of her chest. For the fifteen minutes she'd sat there, Maggie was sure she was alone. But without her noticing, he'd snuck up behind her, standing atop the sand dunes with raised eyebrows.

"Paul," she whined, both in annoyance and relief. "You scared me, dude, not cool."

Paul smirked, eyes flaring in amusement, before he hopped down from his place above her to toe the sand beside her with hesitance. "Should you be alone out here this late?"

"I'm not alone," she rolled her eyes. A rare tiny smile tugged at her lips as she gestured down to Scooby, who was growling lowly as he stared up at Paul with cautious yet curious eyes. "And you're one to talk. I don't see you here with anyone."

After a moment of contemplation, he sat down beside her, his close proximity showering her with heat to fight away the cold. His skin was practically a furnace with just a few inches between them, neither comfortable nor uncomfortable for Maggie, who just raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Instead, she watched them, the way his face remained impassive but his eyes glinted bright, far too knowing yet brimming with mischief.

"I'm coming home from work. What's your excuse?"

Work. The word echoed over and over in her head like a broken record. Maggie tried and failed to smother an amused and disbelieving chuckle, to which Paul frowned almost defensively before she smiled and looked down at Scooby again. He'd gone quiet when he noticed how relaxed Maggie seemed around this strange man, his tail wagging as he returned her look with happiness.

"Scooby loves his late night walks."

It wasn't really a lie. Scooby did love to go on his walks no matter the hour of the day, but it wasn't the truth either. Paul took one look at her, at the way her hair sat in a complete mess on her head, at her plaid pyjama pants and oversized grey Scooby Doo shirt he'd seen on her brother on more than one occasion, and he knew. Still, he didn't say anything, looking down at Scooby with a rare display of a smile.

"You said his name was Scooby," he said, smile morphing into a smirk when he glanced down at the cartoon illustration on her top. "I'm guessing you're a fan of Scooby Doo, then."

"No, I hate it," she deadpanned, frowning as if his words didn't make any sense. She giggled a moment later, a grin replacing the grim line she'd forced her lips into, and scratched at Scooby ears as if to reassure him she didn't mean it. "Don't worry, I was lying, buddy."

Paul sniggered and looked away from her. It seemed to occur to him, then, that this was the first time he'd spoken to the infamous Maggie Sullivan since he imprinted on her where he wasn't protecting her from blood-sucking demons. Technically, he'd only gone over to her to make sure they didn't come rushing out of the woods to attack her, but there was nothing heavy in the air this time around. Instead, he found himself looking at her like he couldn't quite believe she was real.

Weeks had passed since he imprinted but Paul hadn't found it in him to seek a proper conversation with her before then. Don't get him wrong, he had frequent discussions — more like arguments, if he was being honest — with Sam and Jared about it. But the thought of approaching her so soon after he phased with anger burning hot in his veins... well, frankly, it scared the shit out of him. It still did, but sitting there with just her and the ocean wasn't so bad.

For a moment, he could almost pretend that he was a normal boy at the beach with a pretty girl at his side, oblivious to the dark side of their world, a side he knew all too well. He had a feeling Maggie did too, but he certainly wasn't going to ask her about it. The thought of her knowing about vampires, about him, was another thing that set him on edge. If what she said was true, then Maggie watched a vampire kill her mother. She lost more than one loved one at the hands of a monster. How would she look at him if she knew what he did?

"Paul," her name on his tongue had him snapping out of his thoughts, her arm brushing against his feeling iron-hot. Paul was a walking ray of sunshine (ironic, considering he was anything but) yet the feeling of her skin, smooth and warm from his heat, could set the world on fire. "Paul, you okay?"

He liked how she said his name. The thought had him swallowing thickly, and he croaked out a weak 'I'm fine.' Nothing like the Paul Lahote who used to swagger around school with charm oozing from his every word.

Paul cursed himself as her eyes flashed with confusion but she didn't say anything, just turning out to look at the water, her hands continuing to run through Scooby's fur. "My family will kill me if they find out I'm gone. Wait, scratch that, Zeke will kill me when he finds out."

"You didn't tell them you were taking Scooby for a walk?" he chuckled, a light edge of mockery to his voice as he brought up her previous lie. "Maggie Sullivan, I never took you as the rebellious type."

Taking herself by surprise, Maggie smirked at him. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Lahote."

Immediately, her cheeks bloomed pink at the brave words, but she didn't waver as she met his gaze head on, finding surprise and intrigue staring back at her.

"I've noticed," he drawled, finding satisfaction and solace in her blush. He glanced down at his watch. 11pm. "It's late."

Maggie glanced at her own watch and winced. Dead, she was so dead. "I should probably go."

She didn't want to move. It took her by surprise but she enjoyed talking to Paul, no matter how fleeting the exchange might've been. The thought of heading home, leaving the beach and him behind, had disappointment settling in her stomach like acid. It was a new feeling. A strange one. Maggie wasn't sure yet if she liked it.

"Let me walk you home," Paul said. In the blink of an eye, he was standing and dusting sand off his jean shorts. He offered her a hand to help her up but the familiarity of his words had her pausing for a second. A flash of fiery hair, red eyes, quiet streets as Paul walked her right up to her door and waited for her to be in the safety of her house before he left. "Maggie, you good?"

She smiled, pushing the odd memory away, and accepted his offer with the hand that wasn't holding Scooby's leash. His skin was hot against hers, radiating heat like someone who'd just stepped out of a boiling shower, but Maggie didn't pull away until she was properly situated on her feet and had adjusted Scooby's lead. "Thanks."

"No problem," he muttered, and again, there was that weak edge to his voice that had Maggie raising an eyebrow. He quickly covered it with a cough, shoving his hands into his pockets and taking off down the beach with a glance back to see if she was following him. "Let's go, before Zeke comes and kills us both."

She hurried after him, Scooby leaping happily through the sand like a kid on a sugar high. He quickly surpassed Paul, tugging at his leash with longing. Maggie huffed, holding on sternly in a rare act of authority. "Calm down, boy."

Paul chuckled at her, reaching down to scratch Scooby's head as the dog slowed to a trot by his legs, huffing and puffing in both displeasure and exhaustion from his momentary sprint. Nothing else was said as Paul walked her home, the air still holding that strange quiet edge that swallowed Maggie whole. She knew the moment she stepped through the front door back into the familiar confines of her home, that the peace settled in her chest would fade. It wasn't that she didn't love her home, but there were nights where Maggie couldn't help feeling suffocated by it.

"This is me," she muttered as she paused outside the gate, eyes darting over the yard briefly before she turned away. She didn't have to say it, Paul had been there before, but she needed something to break the silence between them.

She spared another glance back at her house. The windows were dark so no one seemed to be awake, and the four cars parked in the drive looked like they hadn't been moved for hours, meaning no one had gone looking for her. Maybe, she'd get away with her late night escapade, but Maggie didn't like her odds.

"Nice car," Paul said back, eyes locked on her beloved yellow beetle.

"Thanks." She wore a proud smile on her face as she glanced over at the vehicle. Then she looked at Paul, who was already staring back at her curiously. "My siblings got it for my birthday."

"It was last week, right?" he asked, and she nodded. "Well, happy belated birthday."

There was a sudden flicker of light behind them, a brief flash of her porch light. On and off, on and off. Maggie's eyes widened in horror but she was the only one who understood what it meant.

When Dakota and Vera first started going on dates, Zeke tried to play the big brother role despite literally being years younger than Vera and separated from Dakota by several minutes. Whenever they'd come home and linger outside for what he deemed to be too long, he'd mess with the porch lights until they came inside, fuming from both embarrassment and annoyance. The fact it was happening with Paul meant that Zeke had seen them together and his big brother mode had been activated.

"I should go," she sighed as the lights flickered again. Paul still didn't seem to get what it meant, which Maggie thanked her lucky stars for as she mustered up a smile. "Thanks for tonight, Paul, it was nice."

Oh, god, did that sound wrong? Maggie was starting to think she had a blushing problem, as her face had bloomed pink again under Paul's amused gaze. He saved her the embarrassment of pointing it out, though, simply shrugging like it was no big deal. "I'll see you around, Maggie. Tell Zeke I said hi."

At his words, Maggie shot a frantic look over her shoulder, spotting her brother standing in the now open doorway with his arms crossed in a pathetic attempt to seem menacing. A mortified squeak got caught in her throat but Paul didn't seem to hear it as he backed away, sending a nod in Zeke's general direction before muttering one last goodbye to Maggie and walking away.

"What time do you call this, young lady?" Zeke demanded as she made her way up the porch steps with her eyes narrowed into a glare.

"Don't start, Ezekiel," she groaned and shoved past him to get inside. She couldn't believe he had done that. Now, she knew how Vera and Dakota had felt, and she was far from amused.

"Don't Ezekiel me," he gasped, pausing before he added on, "Margaret."

Maggie heaved a heavy sigh. She was never going to hear the end of this.