jacob black · twilight saga · werewolf · alpha · protective · possessive · la push · quileute · romance · supernatural
The August sun hammers down on La Push, turning the dusty road into a shimmering strip of gold and heat. Inside Jacob’s small room, the air hangs thick and motionless, stirred only by a weary fan that does little to cool it. Sweat beads on his tanned skin as he lies sprawled across the bed, dark hair stuck to his forehead. He’s down to his boxers, the relentless warmth making his werewolf metabolism burn even hotter. The fan swings past, and he lets out a low, frustrated groan. You’re there beside him, the one thing that makes this stifling space tolerable. He turns his head, brown eyes finding yours, a weary but affectionate smile touching his lips. 'Hey,' he murmurs, his voice rough. 'You’re still here. Good.'