IT DIDN'T TAKE long for Lena to recover from her back injury. A few weeks of sleeping with six hundred pillows and not being allowed to shift later, and she was as good as new. The first thing she did? Went to Bella's house.

"As your Maid of Honour, is is my honour," She smirked as she stood in front of Bella, who was sat on her bed, "to help with the planning of this thing. When are you getting married?"

"August 13th." The human replied, smiling.

Lena stopped in her tracks, eyes wide, "Bella, that's in...two weeks!"

Bella shrugged, "We've basically got it all planned. We're having it in the woods near their house, we'll have a band, invites are out already. It's pretty much done."

She deflated. All that time that she'd been in her coma, recovering after she'd woken up...the wedding was already planned? "So, what do I get to do?"

"Well, the best part, obviously." Bella grinned, "You get to buy the flowers."

"Oh yeah." Lena drawled, "The best part. Sure. What a joke."

"Lee, I really am sorry." Her friend said, patting her back when she took a seat beside her, "We wanted to have it as soon as possible, and we didn't want to stress you out...you were recovering."

"I get it." She nodded, "I'm still bummed that I don't get to do anything, though."

"I mean..." Bella spoke, "You could take the invitations to the rez? I was gonna do it, but they like you more and it's something to do..."

"Yeah, okay." Lena smiled, "Gives me a good excuse to see everybody since I've been banned from all pack meetings until further notice."

"Why?" She asked, brows furrowed.

"They don't want to stress me out." She smiled softly, "I'll be back in soon enough, though."

"Yeah you will." Bella smiled, reaching to her bedside cabinet and pulling out a wad of envelopes, "They're all there."

She took them from her and sent her a mock-salute, "I will deliver these to the best of my ability, boss!"

Bella giggled, "Don't mess around! Just get them out!"

Lena left Bella's, shoving the invitations into her bag (gently, of course) and hopping on her skateboard. It took a while for her to convince Teddy that she could ride it without ripping her back open again, but eventually he relented. It didn't help just how often she seemed to fall off the thing.

Her first stop was The Clearwater residence, and she hopped up the front steps and knocked on the door with a grin on her face. Soon, the door opened and Leah stood there with wide eyes, "Lena?"

"Mail." She said, holding the invitations for their family out to her, "To Bella's wedding."

"Right." Leah nodded, "That's really happening now?"

"In two weeks." Lena replied, "Better buy yourself a pretty dress."

"Lena!"

The girl in question peeked over Leah's shoulder with a smile, watching Seth run down the stairs. He tripped over the last step, but his grin didn't falter as he pushed his way in front of his sister and gave Lena a massive hug.

"Hey, Seth." She smiled, wrapping her arms around him, "How ya doing?"

"I'm doing great!" He grinned, "What are you doing here? Not that I'm complaining, I love you, but it's just weird because you didn't call—"

"Just delivering mail." She held up the pile in her hands, "Invitations to Bella's wedding. You gonna come?"

"Yeah!" He smiled, "Totally!"

"Good." She pointed the envelopes in his face, "You owe me a dance, got it?"

"Got it." He nodded.

Lena turned to the older girl, "You too, understand?"

"Yes ma'am." Leah replied with a smirk.

"Okay, I can't stay, got these to deliver." She continued, backing away from the siblings, "Talk to you later!"

She heard a chorus of 'bye Lena's behind her as she left and skated down the road. Summer was blooming in Forks and LaPush, and the sun beat down on her as she rode through the neighbourhoods, passing out invitations to those who were invited. Swear formed on her brow and down her back, and she was breathless by the time she got to the Lahote household.

In all honesty, she had only thought of Paul in passing since she was released from the hospital. Did it sting that he didn't bother to visit her? Yeah. Especially since she'd confessed her love for him and then immediately followed that up by passing out from extreme blood loss, meaning he'd probably only expressed his love for her because he thought she was going to die and wanted her to die a happy woman. That's what she likes to say, anyway. Rebecca thinks a little differently.

"He's just a little pussy who's too afraid to come to terms with his own feelings like a real person."

She adored her friend, truly, but her whole shtick with 'Paulena', as she had dubbed it, was starting to get old. Frankly, Lena was sick and tired of hearing about the boy who hadn't even dropped her a message after her death experience.

She wasn't going to get hung up over it, though. So she shouldered her bag and walked confidently up to the door, raising her fist in five quick knocks. She waited, fiddling with the invitation and listening out for the footsteps that rang from inside. Eventually, the door opened, and she was greeted by the friendly smile of Terrance Lahote.

"Lena!" He exclaimed, grinning wide, "Long time no see. Are you good?"

Apparently she'd underestimated just how hot the July sun was, because Paul's dad was looking at her like she was ready to go back to the hospital. She waved a hand, "Fine, just hot. I come with mail."

She waved the invitation in the man's face, and he took it from her, looking it over. He looked back up at her, "Do you wanna come in? For a quick glass of water?"

She really did look like hell, and felt like it too, so she nodded and stepped into the cool air conditioning of the Lahote house. She took a seat at the table whilst Lawrence filled up two glasses before passing one to her and taking a seat across from her.

"How've you been? How's your back?"

Unlike his insolent fool of a son, Lawrence had actually checked in on her when she had awoken from her coma and even after she was cleared to go back home. She appreciated it greatly, but every time her inbox filled with messages from him, it was a painful reminder of the lack of messages from Paul. It made her upset, and a little annoyed, if she was being honest.

Hey, I'm here, aren't I? She thought, her eyes drifting to the stairs.

"Is Paul here?" She asked the man.

He smiled and nodded, "Yeah, should be upstairs. You'll know which one it is."

She returned the gesture and headed up there, taking her water with her. She sipped it casually as she wandered the hall, looking for the door that would lead to Paul's room. She found it, sighing at the 'no girls allowed' sign that was on the door. It was frayed and very clearly old, but he still had it up, which was kind of a red flag.

"I have terrible taste in men." She muttered to herself, using her free hand to open the door and push it to. "Paul?" She asked, not yet looking in the room out of fear (you can guess what of).

When all she got in reply was silence so she pushed the door further and took a peek inside. It was dark, the blinds pulled shut, but she squinted and caught sight of a mound on the bed. She stepped in the room, careful to avoid the random pieces of clothing that dotted the floor. Her gaze wandered from the carpet to the road sign that hung over his bed and the camouflage blanket that rested on his desk chair–she'd seen him bring it to the pack movie nights sometimes and always thought it was very Paul, her suspicions were confirmed when she saw how it blended in with the rest of his decor.

On his desk was a closed laptop, some scattered papers and a few empty glasses. Her eyes landed on a board that was leaning against the wall just behind the scattered items, an array of photos pinned to it. Her eyes adjusted to the dark, and she shamefully analysed the pictures Paul had. She didn't peg him as the sentimental type.

There were old photos; ones of him and his dad, him and Jared when they were young and had just joined the pack. There were also some fairly new ones; ones of the whole pack, ones that she'd taken. There were photos from the occasional days at school where the Lahote boy didn't hate everything about life, and pictures of them all at graduation. There was a pile of printed photos that he hadn't gotten the chance to hang up yet, and she put her glass of water down and shamelessly picked it up to finger through it.

These pictures were the most recent: ones taken right before her accident. Pictures the pack took when Sam had upped their meetings in preparation for the fight, this caused the pack to have more sleepovers in the man's living room and therefore a collection of photos stacked up generously. Paul had printed them all, even the ones he wasn't in. Pictures of Jared and Leah, Quil and Jake, Embry and herself. She wondered why he had a stack of photos that he wasn't in sat on his deck, but couldn't question it further due to the sound of rustling behind her.

She put the photos back where she'd found them and took her water in her hand once again, walking over to the bed where Paul had turned over, making his face visible above the sheets. Big mistake on his part, really.

He felt the cold first, the blistering freeze that doused his entire face and head. He sat up quickly, gasping for air and wiping the water from his eyes. He looked up to a smirking Lena standing above him, empty glass in hand.

"What the hell?" He asked, "What are you–why did you–?"

"That's for ghosting me." She said firmly, putting her glass down on his bedside table, "Where the hell have you been, man?"

"What?"

"Dude, I almost died." She spoke, eyes narrowed into slits, "A 'get well soon' would've been nice."

He caught his breath, using an old t-shirt to wipe the water from his face and chest. Staring up at the girl who stood over him, he frowned, "I didn't want to crowd you."

"Bullshit."

She didn't look mad, not really. Just annoyed, but not annoyed in the way she used to get with him. A little peeved off, but she wasn't going to punch him again. He sat up further, wiping his tired eyes, "Right. Sorry. I just..."

"What?" She asked.

"I didn't want to see you like that." He murmured, "Also, I...didn't want to overwhelm you. You know, because..."

She sighed, "Paul, has anyone ever told you how profoundly stupid you are?"

"You, many times." He deadpanned.

She leaned down to him, "Take the hint, man,"

Then she left, and Paul was alone in his dark room once again, wet and confused. But then she turned and put her head back through the doorway, "And take the stupid sign off your door!"

Then she was gone. For real, this time.

Paul did in fact take the sign from his door–because it was old and childish, not because he was embarrassed by Lena seeing it (although that doesn't explain why he also cleared his floor on the off chance she might come back)–and was in the process of throwing it out when a police cruiser strolled by and slowed in front of his garage. The window opened, and Theodore Parkinson grinned at him from the driver's seat.

"Paul!" He exclaimed, "Good to see you, haven't heard about you in a while."

"Ah, well you know..." He trailed off, brows creasing, "Heard about me?"

"Yeah." Teddy chuckled, "Lena drones on about the pack all the time. She loves you guys."

"Even me?" Paul chuckled, "Me and Lena haven't exactly had the best relationship over the months. We became friends and then she almost died."

"Still," Teddy said, "she was pretty glad to finally be friends with you. She'd been looking for a pack for a while, it would've been torture for one of them to hate her guts and make it all shitty."

"Yeah, I guess." He replied, "I'm glad to be friends with her, too."

"Good to know." The man nodded, a peculiar look on his face, "See you 'round, Paul."

"Uh, Mr Parkinson." He nodded awkwardly, watching him drive off.

"You've been invited to Bella and Edward's wedding." His dad's voice spoke from behind him.

Paul turned to face him, looking down at the invitation in his hand, "Where'd you get that?"

"Lena dropped it off." Lawrence replied, "Didn't she go up and see you?"

"Yeah, but..."

"You didn't ask her why she was there at all?"

Paul pursed his lips, "She threw a glass of water on me."

"Deserved." The man nodded, "Does this mean you'll stop avoiding her now?"

"Well, yeah." He nodded, eyes wide, "Who knows what she'll throw at me next."

Paul's dad chuckled, the two walking back up to the front door. "Maybe you should ask her to be your plus-one."

His brows creased, "She's the Maid of Honour, dad, I'm pretty sure she's already going."

The man laughed, shaking his head, "I meant it more in a date kinda way."

"Oh."

The two didn't say anything else after that. Paul thought on it...

Maybe I should ask her. It couldn't hurt.

— mills speaks!

little short chap, kind of a filler, some cute paulena moments.

the next one will be a little more juicy, methinks.

also i wrote this during my history class bc???

xoxo comment and vote