𝐦𝐚𝐞

“i missed you," you say drunkenly as you lightly close your eyes.

he doesn't answer straight away. he takes your hand from his jaw and turns it over slowly, and presses his lips to your palm, holding them there for just a moment longer than necessary.

then he lowers your hand and rests it on your thigh, his fingers loose over yours.

“it's only been a couple of hours, love."

“i know."

“i missed you too." he shifts into gear, eyes moving to the road. “let's get you to bed."

you sigh and let your head tip back against the seat. you glance at your boyfriend again for just a second before turning to the window and looking up at the nighttime sky.

“thank you for coming to get me."

“always." he doesn't look away from the road. “how was your night?"

you let out another sigh. “it was fine. kiera’s a bitch though,” you say bluntly.

paul laughs out loud. “baby, you can’t say that about your best friend”

“i can, actually. it's one of the perks." you pick at a loose thread on your dress. “and it's accurate. there's no other word for someone who leaves their best friend with a group of people she barely knows to go off with some guy." you pause. “who was ugly, by the way. genuinely."

he's still smiling when he glances over at you, but the smile settles into something quieter when he sees your face. you're still turned toward the window. to anyone else you'd just look a bit pissed off. but paul can tell.

“i’m sorry she left you on your own," he says, carefully. “you must've felt pretty lonely."

you shrug.

the lights ahead shift to red and he slows to a stop, using the moment to look at you properly. the glitter on your eyelids, the eyeliner faintly smudged at the outer corners, the lipstick worn down to a ghost of itself. he thinks you look beautiful. so beautiful that it actually makes him ache a little.

“you okay?" he says, very softly.

“yeah. honestly it’s not a big deal, we can talk about it later.”

he holds the look for a moment longer, even though you're not meeting it. then the light goes green, and he faces the road again, and he reaches over and finds your hand.

you don't speak for the rest of the drive. it’s only fifteen minutes, and it’s a comfortable silence.

the moment you're through the front door of your flat you're making a beeline for the bathroom with as much urgency as your aching feet and the general state of you will allow. which is not, objectively, very fast. you've needed the toilet for the better part of an hour and have been quietly suffering through it.

behind you, you can hear paul settling the flat for the night. the deadbolt sliding home. the soft clink of your keys on the hook. the hanging of his coat, then yours, which you'd left in a rush on the floor. the kitchen and living room lights off.

then, after a moment, footsteps.

the bathroom door, which you'd left ajar without thinking, opens a few inches, and he leans against the frame with a smile on his face.

you roll your eyes, but can’t help the smile and blushing of your cheeks that follow. “what? i’m on the toilet."

“i know. i just thought you might need a hand getting ready for bed."

“i am ready for bed."

“you're going to wake up tomorrow and be furious with me."

“i won't."

“you'll have mascara on the pillow and you'll be wearing that dress and you'll look at me like it's my fault."

you stare at him. he stares back. the flat is very quiet.

you sigh through your nose, stand up and flush the toilet. “fine," you say. “if I have to."

you're smiling though. you can't help it. and honestly, if you were being truthful with yourself, you want nothing more than to sit on the cold bathroom counter while your boyfriend takes your makeup off and talks quietly and kisses your face between swipes of a cotton pad. to be looked after.

paul would be lying too if he said he didn’t enjoy taking care of you like that.

“right." he pushes off the doorframe. “wash your hands, then up on the counter. i’ll get your pyjamas."

you do exactly that, hopping up onto the counter with considerably less grace than intended. by the time you've settled, paul is already back, pyjamas tucked under his arm. he hands them over, then reaches past you to open the cupboard above the mirror.

“which one, the oil one?"

“yeah, oil first. then the regular one after."

he grabs both without further comment and sets them on the counter beside you. he pumps the oil cleanser into his palm, rubs his hands together once, then places them on your face.

he's rougher than you'd like. probably muscle memory from how he scrubs his own face in the shower. 

“ow-“ you say, much louder than necessary.

“sorry," he's absolutely holding in a laugh. “sorry."

his hands slow down. he starts again, gentler this time. working in small circles at your temples, across your cheekbones, careful around your eyes. you let your eyes close. the bathroom is warm and paul’s so close to you, you can smell his cologne and the must he’s worked up over the day. 

you hear and feel a buzz, which you quickly realise is your phone. you're surprised you still have your phone, let alone that it made it home with you. you become slightly more alert, but it’s not enough to make you open your eyes.

“who's that,” you say sleepily.

paul rinses his hands, wrings out a damp cloth, and glances at the screen. he sees a new crack running across the corner. it’s small, but noticeable (alas, not to your drunk self. he says nothing and reminds himself to mention it tomorrow).

kiera - the notification reads, bright against the dark screen.

heyy sorry i lost you tonight are you home safe? had the best night xx

“who is it?" you say again.

“kiera." he starts wiping the cleanser from your face in slow strokes. “asking if you got home safe."

you let out a small hum.

he looks at you for a moment. then reaches for the second cleanser.

“she does this a lot, doesn't she."

one eye opens. “don't."

“hey - eyes closed. and i’m not doing anything."

you comply.

“yeah," you say eventually. “she does."

he doesn't push it. he finishes in silence, and when he's done he tilts your chin up with two fingers so you can look at him, which you do once your eyes are open.

”there you are," he says.

you smile without meaning to.

he doesn't move his hand. “you okay?"

you're tired, and his hand is warm, and all you want is to be horizontal with his arms around you. deflecting would be easier. quicker. “it's not a big deal," you say.

“in the grand scheme of things, maybe not." his thumb moves slightly against your jaw. “but you're upset. so it's a big deal to you."

the bathroom is very quiet.

“since i moved in with you," you start, then stop. “it's like she’s - i don't know. avoiding me. i know I'm further away now, i know that's part of it. but it was never like this before." you pause. “and even tonight, when we were actually together, it felt like she couldn't wait to not be."

you glance up at him to check you haven't lost him somewhere in all of this. you haven't. his eyes, as tired as yours, are steady on your face. listening in the way he always does.

“and I keep thinking I must've done something,” you say. “said something. i don't know."

“you haven't."

“you don't know that."

“maybe not.” he says. “but you need to talk to her, love. properly."

you look at your phone on the counter. the screen has gone dark.

“not tonight," paul says.

“no," you agree. “not tonight."

you sigh, feeling some relief.

“my feet hurt,” you say trying to lighten the mood, but you mean it too.

paul smiles. “they’ll hurt less when you're lying down.”

“give me a hug first,” you say with a pout.

he pulls you in without a word. it’s an all-consuming type of hug. your face finds the curve of his neck and you stay there, breathing in his warmth and familiarity. 

you pull back just enough to bring your face level with his.

“kiss too, please."

he kisses you softly. your hands travel slowly across his chest and find their way around his neck. his arms stay around your waist.

you pull away gradually. hesitantly.

“thanks," you say, still close. “i love you."

“i love you too." a breath, then, barely above a whisper: “you should probably brush your teeth before coming to bed, by the way."

you give him a look. he smiles. you playfully push him away, using this to push yourself off the bathroom counter, and watch him leave, laughing quietly, towards the bedroom.

you stand there for a second in the sudden quiet of him being gone, smiling at nothing in particular.

you change into your pyjamas. then you reach for your toothbrush.

by the time you pad through to the bedroom he's already on his side, lamp still on, hoodie off, book open. (paul hates reading when he's tired. you both know he's just waiting up for you.)

“this doesn’t feel real,” you said, your voice tinged with awe as you glanced up at the laundry fluttering on balconies.

paul looked over at you, a loving smile playing on his lips. “you’ve said that every ten minutes since we got here.”

“well, it still doesn’t!” you shot back, bumping his shoulder lightly. “it's unlike anything i've ever seen before. how am i supposed to stop talking about it?”

he laughed, gently letting go of your hand so he could grab your waist and pull you even closer as you both wandered down the uneven path. “i like it when you ramble. means you’re happy.”

you felt your face suddenly get hot. “i'm not just happy. i’m...i don’t know. full.” you gestured around. “this place, this trip, being here with you - it’s everything.”

paul stopped walking and turned to face you, his blue eyes warm and soft as they searched your face. “you’re everything.” he said, and you swore you could actually feel your heart swell.

you wrapped your hands around paul's neck as he leaned down, brushing his lips against yours in a passionate series of pecks and one longer kiss that you both fought for control over. as you both realised your very public environment, you pulled back. you couldn’t help but smile as you rested your forehead against his.

“alright, lover boy,” you teased, though your voice was thick with affection. you stepped away from him and paused in front of a charming doorway painted a faded blue with potted geraniums clustered at its base. with a pout and a few bats of your eyelashes, you then said, "can you take a picture of me?"

rolling his eyes but unable to suppress his smile, paul raised the camera and pointed it at you.

you leaned against the blue door, tilting your head slightly as you brushed your hair back. paul snapped a few shots, then lowered the camera, his expression softening.

“alright, one more,” he said. “but don’t pose this time.”

“i wasn’t posing!”

“you definitely were,” he teased, lifting the camera again. “just laugh or something.”

you huffed a laugh at his instructions, and in that moment, he took a photo that he would never forget; your head was tilted back slightly, sunlight was on your face, and your eyes crinkled with happiness - he was unsure if he'd ever seen you look so beautiful.

when you realised paul had stopped taking photos and was now staring intensely at his camera, you ran forward and playfully smacked his arm. “let me see, babe.”

paul handed over the camera with a grin. as you scrolled through the pictures, you smile widened. “okay, these are actually really good. you’re getting better.”

“fuck off,” he said with a laugh, sliding an arm around your waist and pulling you close.

the two of you walked further down the street, but after a while decided to pause on a set of wide, sun-warmed stone steps to take a break from wandering. paul was in front of you, resting his elbows on his knees as he scrolled through his phone.

without a word, you picked up paul's camera that was still in your possession and adjusted the lens. the light hit him just right, illuminating the soft lines of his roman profile, his hair ruffled slightly from the breeze. you snapped a photo, then another, the sound of the shutter drawing his attention.

paul tilted his head at you and laughed. “you’re supposed to be taking pictures of the scenery, not me.”

“you’re part of the scenery,” you said cheekily, snapping another.

"alright give me back my camera - i'm starving, lets get some lunch." paul said, playfully snatching his camera out of your hand as he rose from his seat. he placed the camera back around his neck as he gave you his hand to help you rise from your own seat.

the radio was on, as usual, and was playing quietly in the background. the sizzling of eggs and mushrooms on the frying pan quickly overpowered the vocals of a song you couldn't quite recognise.

the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the last remnants of the lavender incense that you burned before going to bed last night. this was the first thing paul smelt when he came through the door, with a slight slam and vibration alerting you to turn around. it was then that the smell of breakfast hit him. beads of sweat trickled down his thick, slightly quivered brows - evidence of his long run through the park.

"morning, love," you greeted him, your voice barely coming through the bustle of the kitchen.

paul, still catching his breath, offered a contented smile. his eyes, however, showcased a hunger not satiated by the run alone. you smiled, looking into his eyes before turning back to the stove to gently stir the almost ready mushrooms.

paul approached you and you could feel his eyes on the back of your head. the smile on your face, still present, grew even wider as you felt his larger, sweaty presence lurking over you, taking a deep inhale of the aroma coming from the pan.

"smells amazing," paul murmured, his nose now pressing gently into the curls of your hair. his voice felt like a gentle caress against what was now the morning quiet, with all other sounds falling into the background, leaving only the intimate space you both shared.

"i aim to please - especially hungry runners." you replied, a teasing glint in your eyes.

though his chest was already lightly touching your back, a magnetic pull seemingly drew the two of you even closer together. paul's arms encircled your waist, and you quickly turned the stove off, for you had expected to be distracted now that you were in the arms of your lover.

“thank you.” paul whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to the nape of your neck, making you all flustered and warm inside.

as the aroma of the now finished breakfast continued to fill the air, you turned around in paul's arms to face him. your eyes met first in a silent exchange, then you tilted you head up so your lips could meet - a fusion of passion, the sweet taste of morning, and the slightly salty taste of his sweat.

your soft fingers traced gentle patterns on paul's ever so damp chest as the two of you embraced each other, savoring the rare, quiet morning together. with your busy 9-to-5 job and paul’s demanding acting schedule, moments like this didn’t come often. but with paul on a short break and you having taken a few days off, you were determined to make the most of it. the kiss deepened as the pair of you smiled into it and slowly swayed to the melody in the background.

“you stink, paul.” you whisper after he hesitantly breaks the kiss, both of you bursting into a soft laughter.

“fuck off,” he says playfully, his arms still around your waist. “how about i eat the beautiful breakfast you made me first, and then we can both get in the shower?”

“well i’m not gonna say no to that.” you say as you raise one of your hands and begin admiring his bearded chin.