Chapter Text
“It doesn’t matter what I say, does it?” Paul stands in front of you , in the too small kitchen area of the too small apartment he lived in with a few of his friends. The place was quiet now , it’s just you and Paul here at the moment, the others went out for the night. You weren’t feeling up to it even though they invited you; you got into a huge fight with your boyfriend for the eighth time this month. Lately things between you and him had been very rocky and a lot of it had to do with your friendship with Paul.
“Of course it matters Paul. I just-“ you cross your arms in frustration not knowing how to accurately express your emotions. Today was bad enough with your boyfriend and now Paul wanted to argue.
“Then why don’t you listen to me! Why don’t you leave that fucking loser? I’m so tired of him, he is always angry with you and now you’re catching him flirting with other women?” His tone raises and he stands ramrod straight , talking animatedly with anger and desperation. Paul never ever understood your attraction to your boyfriend. Not in a physical sense but personality wise. He was the antithesis to the type of guy you always said you wanted. He was judgemental, hot headed, loud, impatient, and now? He’s working his way to adding ‘cheater’ to that list.
You think back to earlier tonight when you were out with him at a club. The night was going really well and you were having a good time, until you had to use the bathroom. When you returned you saw your boyfriend standing with another girl, and not just in a friendly passive way. He was so close to her leaning down and whispering something in her ear making her giggle. Her hand on his chest and a stupid smile on his face. When you saw his tongue slip out to lick at her ear lobe you turned and left, and came here.
You always came here when things were going south in your relationship. Paul always knew what to say, he was always comforting and supportive but tonight something was different. He wasn’t being his usual self, his patience had run out entirely and now he was forcing you to see your relationship the way he sees your relationship. He was sugar coating nothing and he wouldn’t make excuses for your boyfriend anymore; he wouldn’t coddle your feelings anymore. He’s tired of this.
“Leave him (y/n)”
You stand there wordlessly for a moment, your mouth opening and then closing again. You sigh averting your eyes from Paul.
“I love him Paul” your halfhearted words echo through the apartment, voice sounding defeated.
“Well he doesn’t love you.”
Paul’s response was instant and biting and cut just as deeply as he intended it to. When your eyes meet his there is a fire simmering in the air between you, he’s no doubt hoping you’ll argue that fact so he can spout off all the reasons he has for saying that.
And he’s right and that’s what sucks. People who love you don’t yell at you , they don’t call you names, they don’t blame you for things that aren’t your fault, they don’t make you feel overlooked, and they certainly don’t flirt with other people. You feel your face heat because you’re fucking embarrassed, you feel pathetic. You’re not sure if it’s the circumstances or if it’s the fact that you’ve never heard those words from someone else’s mouth but for some reason ‘well he doesn’t love you’ hits you like a train. It strikes right through you because you thought you were doing so well at covering the scrapes and bruises of your tumultuous relationship. You thought you talked your boyfriend up enough to everyone. swearing up and down he’s perfect and you’re happy together.
Hot tears burn a path down your cheek and before you can even realize you’re crying Paul is there; his hand on your back pulling you into him. You've known for a while that your relationship had hit a dead end and was going nowhere. He'd never ask you to move in , he'd never ask you to marry him, it would be fights and arguments and pretending to get along forever.. until he found someone better..
Paul’s warm hands holding you , supporting you in the perfect places, the small of your back and his other hand behind your head fingers tangled in your hair pressing you into him. He hates when you cry, it hurts him to see you sad; he just can’t take it.
“Schatz, don’t cry” he whispers , his soft lips brush against your temple and you breathe in his cooling scent. He smells like clean laundry and mint tea and it wraps around you like a blanket.
The two of you stand there in the silent kitchen, bodies naturally beginning to sway as you embrace.
“Don’t cry” he repeats , even quieter, gentler now like he’s afraid he may shatter you. Your tears are soaking into his shirt , your makeup is no doubt streaking down your face and you suddenly feel completely exhausted.
“Live here with me, move in.”
His words take your breath away. Your head pulls away from his chest and you look at him wide eyed, tear stained cheeks , nose running.
“What?” The words juts from your lips slicked with salted tears, pushing through what feels like a bundle of sticks lodged in your throat. Paul’s eyes scan your face , his mouth quirking up in a sweet smile. His devastating smile.
Did he just offer to move you in? Your own boyfriend had never even entertained the idea of you moving in with him , never even jokingly. Paul was dead serious.
“Live with me , Ja?” His thumb stroked a tear from your cheek as he gazed at you like you were the sun. The only point of warmth in the universe. He was lost in space and you were the light guiding his way.
“But- this place is already too small with you , Christoph and Flake… let alone adding me”
Paul shrugs , not a problem.
“We can figure it out sweetheart” his hands gently caress your face , he hasn’t taken his eyes from you. You feel so safe and protected here. The frustration, tension and anxiety has long melted from your body laying in a pool on the floor somewhere. Paul made everything better, he did this every time. Every time you’re frustrated or sad or overwhelmed , Paul takes it from you. Lifting it from your shoulders and carrying it himself. Just his smile could melt the coldest days from your soul. You now understand how people could become reliant on things like drugs and alcohol.
Paul was a living drug, your physical shot of tequila, a warm cup of tea, your favorite sweater. A comfort. A safe space. A home.
“You don’t have to answer now, for now let’s rest” he’s fingers release your hair, letting his feather light touch fall down your back. He presses the small of your back guiding you to his bedroom.
“Lay down” a voice of liquid slips from his lips , his fingers interlace with yours , palm warm.
“Is this ok?” He asks as you lower yourself onto his bed, he grabs his comforter pulling it up over your body, tucking you in.
You can’t seem to form words , you’re feeling such a strange mix of emotions right now. Paul’s room is dark and cozy, posters of films he loves and bands that inspire him strewn across the walls. His pillow smells like him, that cool mint scent and it’s drawing you closer to sleep. Paul’s body is sitting next to you rubbing your back soothingly.
“Think about it Ja? living with me…”
Your eyes flutter closed and you nod your agreement.