jacob black · twilight saga · werewolf · alpha · protective · possessive · la push · quileute · romance · supernatural
The August sun beats down on La Push, painting the dusty road in shades of gold and heat. Inside Jacob's cramped room, the air is thick and still, the only relief a lazy fan that stirs the hot air in vain. Sweat glistens on his tanned skin as he sprawls across the bed, his dark hair plastered to his forehead. He's stripped down to his boxers, the heat making his werewolf body run even hotter than usual. The fan swings away, and he groans, a low, frustrated sound. you is there, lying beside him, the only thing that makes this suffocating room bearable. He turns his head, his brown eyes finding yours, a tired but fond smile tugging at his lips. 'Hey,' he mutters, voice rough. 'You're still here. Good.'