Hearts woven in threads || Paul Lahote x Fem!Reader
A/N: English is not my native language, so I apologize in advance for any typos. I hope you enjoy!
masterlist || Hearts woven in threads
The morning light came in gently through the room, and the tranquility of a lazy Sunday seemed to invite a few more minutes of sleep. But the cell phone next to the bed vibrated insistently, making you wake up earlier than you wanted. You looked at the screen, seeing Paul's name.
- You know, I always thought you were the detached type with the girls you kiss. - your voice was muffled by the pillow, dragged by sleep.
On the other side, a short laugh echoed. Paul didn't seem worried about the time. He wasn't in a hurry.
- Really? And what made you change your mind? - his voice was relaxed, as if he was having fun with the direction of the conversation, and you could almost visualize the smile he probably had on his face.
You sighed, your head still heavy from sleep, but the tone of his voice made the environment lighter.
- I don't know, maybe the fact that you call me at this time is a sign of that.
Paul laughed again, the lowest laugh, but still full of contagious fun. He didn't answer immediately, but you could feel his smile on the other side of the line.
- Yeah, maybe I have my reasons. - he said, now with a softness that was starting to penetrate the tone of the conversation. Something between provocation and sincerity, but still floating in this gray area that you were creating.
The silence between you extended for a comfortable moment, as if you were both getting used to the new dynamic that was forming.
- I didn't want to wake you up... - he continued, his voice now calmer. - But I couldn't resist.
You smiled, a little disconcerted, not knowing whether or not you should give importance to what he was implying.
- I know... it wasn't hard to notice. - he replied, the joke still present, but with a lightness that made it clear that things between you were changing. - Shouldn't you be sleeping now? - You turn in bed, trying to disguise the fact that you weren't so sleepy anymore.
- Yes, probably... - he replied, a short pause in the air, before the relaxed tone returned. - So, are you going to show up at Emily's house later?
You still didn't understand very well what he wanted, but you answer lightly, without wanting to complicate the moment.
- No, not today... I need to prepare for a test and help my mother with some things.
There was a brief silence, and you knew he had been a little disappointed, but you didn't want to touch it directly.
You then preferred to deviate to a new question, as if you wanted to prolong the conversation, keep the moment. There was something about you that you didn't want to end so quickly.
- Aren't you tired? I mean, he spent the whole night patrolling, didn't he?
Paul smiled unintentionally at your question, and you realized: he realized that you cared about him.
- I'm tired, but not sleepy. - he replied, the tone of voice revealing something softer, a silent sincerity that he didn't even try to hide.
Somehow, the conversation extended for another hour, sliding between trivial subjects and small provocations. Until, at a certain moment, you let go, almost without thinking:
- Paul, I think you should really sleep now.
He laughed low on the other side of the line, as if he was already waiting for you to say that.
- Maybe you're right... - he replied, although he didn't seem very convinced.
As soon as the call ended, his eyes landed on the ceiling. For a moment, you found yourself thinking about the conversation in a way that left you slightly disconcerted with yourself. It was no big deal... right?
You frowned, trying to ward off that sensation before it settled in for good. Better not think so much. With a sigh, he threw the covers to the side and forced himself to get out of bed.
The house was still quiet when you got to the kitchen, but the smell of fresh coffee indicated that your mother was already awake. She was sitting at the table, flipping through some magazine, and raised her eyes when she saw you come in.
- Wow, are you awake at this time on a Sunday? - she teased, raising an eyebrow.
You shrugged, still a little sleepy, and went straight to the coffee maker.
- Paul called me. - he let go without thinking, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
When he turned back to the table, he didn't notice the little smile his mother tried to disguise before turning her eyes to the magazine.
- Ah... I got it. - that's all she said, and you, distracted, didn't pay much attention.
- So, what exactly do you want me to help you today?
She took a sip of the coffee before answering:
- No big deal, I just need to look for something in Port Angeles.
The road to Port Angeles was familiar, and the journey passed without haste, filled with casual conversations. His mother asked about his studies, commented on some random news from the neighborhood, but without pressure.
When they arrived, she parked and took the keys out of the ignition.
- Wait here. It won't take long.
You waved, without questioning much, and stayed in the car, taking advantage of the time to review the summary of the subject you needed to study.
A few minutes passed, and you looked up from the leaf absently. It was then that he noticed the scene on the other side of the shop window next door.
Inside, three girls were together. Two of them seemed excited, trying on dresses and talking to each other, while the third was sitting, holding a book on her lap and watching everything with a neutral expression.
His gaze stayed there for a few moments, not for any specific reason, just for the curiosity to observe the dynamics between them. The girl on the couch didn't seem exactly bored, but something about her made it look like she was in a place where she didn't fit completely.
Eventually, she closed the book and left the store alone. You followed your way along the sidewalk without even realizing that you were doing it, until you were distracted by the sound of the door closing.
When he looked to the side, he saw his mother coming back—and carrying a cardboard box.
Before she could answer, a muffled meoas came from inside the box.
- Mom, you're kidding me.
She smiled, clearly having fun with her reaction.
- Did you adopt a cat without telling me?!
- Technically, yes. - she said, opening the door and placing the box carefully in the back seat. - But I knew that if I told you before, you would complain.
She laughed, turning around the car.
- And dad always said no.
This time, his mother didn't answer immediately. The break was short, but full of meaning.
- Yeah. - she said, anyway. - But now there's no one else to say no, right?
You looked at her from the corner, trying to understand what was behind that sudden decision.
She smiled sideways, starting the car.
- It was because I wanted to. - he answered simply. - But maybe there's also some of that. I think I just felt it was time.
You sighed, knowing that you were already starting to accept the idea.
- If this cat disappears with my shoes, it's your fault.
- Noted. - she said, laughing. - Now, do you want to see his face or are you going to keep pretending you didn't like the surprise?
You hesitated for a second, but soon opened the tab of the box. A pair of wide eyes stared at you, and a small pink snout moted when the puppy meowed softly.
Her mother smiled, satisfied.
- You loved it, didn't you? - she asked, excited.
You tried not to give in, but the little smile that appeared on the corner of your lips gave you up.
- He's cute. - he admitted, running his fingers through the soft hair while the puppy closed his eyes, purring softly. - What's his name?
His mother tilted her head, thoughtful.
- I haven't chosen yet. Any suggestions?
You watched the kitten for a moment, noticing his big and attentive eyes, in the soft coat that shivered slightly under his touch. He seemed smart, but he also had a kind of quiet, almost mysterious way.
That afternoon passed at a lazy pace, the soft sound of the rain hitting the window filled the room with a quiet background. You were lying in bed, the headphones in your ear playing low music, the open book in front of you, but your attention was not completely on it.
Oliver slept on his chest, shrunken in a position that made his small body look even smaller. The white coat was interrupted by black spots scattered around the body, one of them covering one of his ears and part of his face, which gave him an almost naughty expression even while sleeping. The paws were bent under him, and the chest went up and down at a slow and steady pace. You watched for a few seconds, finding it funny in the way he looked like a little bun there, completely surrendered to sleep.
Without thinking too much, he took his cell phone and framed the scene. His face didn't appear in the photo, only the open book, the soft blanket on his legs and Oliver spread comfortably. The soft light of the room and the grayish tone of the day outside made the image even more welcoming.
You typed a message just below:
"Apparently, we have a cat now."
A few minutes later, the cell phone screen lit up with Paul's answer.
"I don't think he'll like me very much."
You frowned for a moment before understanding what he meant. Your smile appeared almost without you noticing.
"Don't be so pessimistic."
The answer didn't come right away, and you imagined he was laughing on the other side. With one last look at Oliver, who was still sleeping carefree, you turned your attention to the book.
The rest of the day went unhurriedly, but deep down, a silent expectation accumulated without you wanting to admit it. You tried to keep your mind busy - you studied, helped your mother with some tasks, spent some time reading, with Oliver sleeping on your lap as if he had been there for years.
The thin rain that came and went throughout the afternoon made the weather even more dragged, making it seem that time did not pass. But he passed. And when the night came, you realized you were waiting for something.
Maybe it was just an impression. Maybe it was just that persistent idea in your head, even if you tried to ignore it.
You entered the shower, letting the hot water run down your shoulders, relaxing the tense muscles. The steam filled the bathroom, bringing a momentary feeling of comfort, muffling all other thoughts. For a few minutes, it seemed easy to turn off the mind.
But as soon as he left, his hair still damp and his skin warm by the steam, he saw the light of his cell phone flashing on the bed screen.
His heart jumped a little for no apparent reason. When you picked up your cell phone, you unlocked the screen and saw the message.
"Do you want to go for a walk?"
You sat on the edge of the bed, still with the towel wrapped around your body, and stared at the message for a moment. Maybe hoping your heart would slow down. Maybe trying to understand why, suddenly, answering that seemed to require a second more consideration.
But just a second. Because the answer was already clear in your mind.
The answer came almost instantly.
You felt a small smile appear without realizing it. You could imagine him on the other side, sending the message without hesitation, probably already taking the car keys. As if he already knew you would say yes.
"I'll pick you up there."
The simple confirmation made your chest warm in a way that you didn't want to analyze too much.
You tried to get ready quickly, but your hair was still wet when you left the bathroom, and the rush didn't help. He ran the towel through the strands while walking around the room, looking for something to wear.
But his head wasn't exactly working clearly now.
He turned the dryer, running his fingers through the wires to speed up the process. You didn't want to go out with wet hair on the cold night, but at the same time, you knew that Paul wouldn't take long to arrive. He hadn't said an exact time, but something told you that he was already coming.
The thought brought a strange cold to his stomach.
He finished drying his hair as best he could, leaving it a little messy, but natural. Then, she put on the warm sweater, skirt and sneakers, took a coat from the armchair and left the room.
In the hallway, her mother appeared at the door of her room, watching her haste with curiosity.
- Are you leaving at this time?
- Paul is coming to pick me up. - You answered without thinking too much, too busy closing the zipper of the coat to notice the casual way it sounded.
She tilted her head slightly, analyzing her answer before a small smile appeared on the corner of her lips.
- Nothing. - She shook her head, holding her little smile. - I'm just watching.
You rolled your eyes, but before you could answer, the sound of an engine parking outside caught your attention.
His heart jumped a little for no apparent reason.
- Bye, mom. - You hurried to the door before she could make any additional comments.
- Take care. - She said, still amused.
The cold air of the night enveloped you as soon as you left, making you pull your coat instinctively against your body. The sharp wind made your muscles contract slightly, and only then did you realize that the choice of skirt might not have been so smart. But now it was too late to regret it.
You went down the few steps of the balcony and headed towards the car, your sneakers touching the wet floor of the sidewalk while trying to ignore the chills that ran through your skin.
It was only when he looked up that he noticed Paul watching you.
He was there, relaxed in the driver's seat, but the gaze fixed on you made the cold of the night seem like an insignificant detail.
As soon as he slid to the car seat, the icy leather touched the exposed skin of his legs, making you shiver slightly. You pulled your coat closer to your body while Paul started the engine, and it was at that moment that you noticed the subtle smile forming on his face.
- What's wrong? - you asked, casting a corner look.
He shrugged, still with that calm air.
- I just found the choice of skirt interesting for a night like this.
You sighed, letting your head touch the bench.
- Yeah, I already realized that it wasn't the best choice. But I also didn't have much time to look for something else.
Paul let out a low laugh, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel.
- Looking forward to seeing me? - He cast a quick look in your direction before turning his attention to the road. - Good to know.
You rolled your eyes, but the little smile that pulled your lips gave you. The car followed the already known streets, and even without him saying it directly, you began to realize that the destination was the beach.
You pulled the sleeve of the sweater over your hands and gave Paul a suspicious look.
- Please tell me you won't make me get out of the car in this cold.
He smiled from the corner, clearly already expecting this reaction.
- That was the idea. But, considering your choice of clothes... - He shrugged. - We can stay in the car, if you want.
The truth was that you wanted it. Not because the cold wind outside didn't seem inviting at all, but because the heat inside the car and his presence next to you seemed enough.
Paul parked the car near the edge of the parking lot, where the beach stretched ahead, dark and vast under the cloudy sky. The only lighting came from the low headlights and distant lights of La Push, reflecting timidly on the moving waves.
He turned off the engine, and for a moment, all he heard was the sound of the sea crashing against the sand.
You let out a light sigh, finally relaxing on the bench and turning a little more to him, bending one leg under you.
Paul rested his arm on the bench, his gaze lost on the dark beach ahead. The engine was already off, and the only thing that filled the silence between you was the sound of the waves breaking on the sand.
- So... No patrol tonight? - you asked, turning your body a little in his direction.
Paul looked away from the beach to you, a small smile pulling on the corner of his lips.
- Sam gave me the night off.
Paul hesitated for a second before shrugging his shoulders.
That left you even more intrigued.
Paul kept his eyes on you for a moment longer before dodging again, looking forward.
- I think he wanted to take it easy on me this time.
The answer was vague, but the way he said it made you realize that it wasn't worth insisting. Still, that stayed in your mind for a moment.
- Well... I hope this doesn't mean that someone will have to cover for you.
- They will survive. - Paul let out a small laugh, his voice full of irony. - I'm not that irreplaceable.
You lightly arched an eyebrow, a smile playing on your lips.
- A humble phrase coming from you? That's news.
He laughed lightly, but didn't hit back. The silence that followed was not uncomfortable, just a natural pause, as if neither of them felt the need to fill the space immediately. The sound of the waves outside seemed to accompany the quiet rhythm of the conversation.
Then, casually, Paul broke the break.
- And the cat? How is it going to share the house with him?
You laughed low, fixing the leg bent under you.
- Oliver has already realized that he is the owner of the house. He slept all day. But my mother is completely in love with him.
- Yes. She always wanted a cat, but my father never agreed. So I think now she decided it was time.
You hesitated for a second before continuing, staring at the dark beach ahead.
- But I suspect it has more to do with the fact that his date of death is approaching.
Paul was silent for a moment, as if he was processing his words. When he spoke again, the voice came lower.
You let out a short, humorless laugh.
- I don't even know if she realized it has to do with it. But, deep down, I think it's her way of filling some space that was left.
Paul didn't try to say anything comforting, and you were grateful for that. He just nodded, understanding without needing words.
The silence that followed was not uncomfortable. Actually, it was almost good.
And then he broke the moment with a casual comment.
- I still think he'll try to scratch me or something like that if he sees me.
You laughed, tilting your head a little. As the conversation flowed, the atmosphere inside the car seemed to transform subtly. You were still sitting with one leg bent under you, but now your body was slightly more turned to him. Paul had also leaned a little, his arm relaxed on the steering wheel, his posture less casual than before.
- Are you still paranoid about this?
- It's not paranoia, it's instinct.
- Oh, of course, I forgot that detail. A wolf and a cat, natural enemies.
Paul smiled, shaking his head.
- You can laugh now, but when he starts staring at me with that judgmentary cat look, you'll see.
- I never thought you'd be afraid of a puppy. - You emphasized, still smiling.
Paul let out a low laugh, but didn't answer right away. The light tone of the conversation made everything seem natural, easy.
The car was warm, comfortable, a sharp contrast with the cold outside. You found yourself watching Paul for a moment longer than you should while he said something you didn't hear, noticing how the weak light outside drew subtle shadows on your face, highlighting the strong contour of the jaw, the distracted line of the smile.
It was a small detail, but somehow it seemed impossible to ignore it.
Paul noticed your look before you could dodge. A corner of his mouth pulled into a light smile, but you were faster.
- Why are you staring at me? - you asked first, the voice carrying a provocative tone while crossing your arms.
He arched his eyebrows, clearly amused with the role reversal.
- You're the one who's looking at me like that.
- Yeah, I even liked this angle.
Paul didn't say anything. He just looked at you, and at that moment, words seemed unnecessary.
The silence between you was filled only by the distant sound of the waves breaking on the beach and by the slight noise of the contained breath. Then, slowly, he raised his hand, his fingers lightly brushing his skin while moving a strand away from his hair. The touch was brief, but enough to make your skin shiver.
His gaze ran through your face as if you wanted to memorize every detail, and you felt the weight of that attention, as if something was about to happen. His heart beat a little harder, and his breath was stuck for a second.
And then, without warning, Paul leaned over and kissed you.
It was unexpected, but you didn't hesitate for a second. His body reacted even before his mind could keep up, as if he already knew that it was right, inevitable. Unlike the kiss of the previous night, which was marked by hesitation and discovery, this one came full of certainty.
It started slow, but loaded with a whirlwind of feelings. There was a sweetness there, but also a growing eagerness, a desire that got entaged into the two and pulled them closer. The adrenaline ran through his body in waves, each of his cells awakening to the sensation of Paul's mouth against his. You didn't want that to end.
His hand quickly went up to his neck, an automatic, almost instinctive gesture. His fingers spread over his warm skin, and Paul reacted to the touch with a subtle chill. He liked that.
Then, as if he felt he could—or maybe should—deepen that moment even more, he intertwined his fingers in her hair, holding her neck with a firm delicacy, pulling her closer. The gesture drew a sigh from him, which he absorbed with a smile contained between the kiss.
His other hand landed on his waist, the soft but accurate pressure. You felt his heat burning through the fabric of your clothes, each touch awakening your skin even more. His body leaned forward, without you noticing, guided by an urgent and growing need.
And then, Paul tightened his waist. A simple gesture, but that said it all. He felt that as much as you did.
Without thinking, you moved, leaning even more until, in an instant, you were on top of him. Paul smiled at the exact moment he felt his weight sitting against his, as if he was waiting for it. His hands slid to help her get rid of the heavy coat, leaving you only with a thin blouse, and then, he murmured against her lips:
- I'm starting to like the idea of the skirt now.
The mischievous smile that accompanied the words should have made you roll your eyes, but at that moment, you didn't care. Instead, he just leaned over to kiss him again, a deeper, hungrier kiss.
Paul's hands traced a slow but decisive path, going up his thighs as his mouth slid down the line of his jaw and neck. Your breathing was choppy with each new point of contact, with each new sensation that accumulated inside you.
The two were lost in that—in the heat, in the touch, in the desperate and clumsy surrender of those who wanted everything at the same time.
Paul kept his fingers firm on your waist, pulling you even closer, as if with every inch less between you he could feel you better, have you more. His heart pounded hard in his chest, mixing with the accelerated rhythm of his breathing, and you didn't want that moment to end.
But then, a sound crossed the hot fog that enveloped you.
The insistent vibration of a phone filled the environment.
You heard, but Paul didn't even seem to notice. He just continued, his lips sliding down his neck, the warm breath contrasting with the chills he left along the way.
The call stopped. You ignored it.
Until, seconds later he heard it again.
You let out a frustrated sigh.
Paul frowned when he felt you walk away, his dark eyes shining with a mixture of confusion and impatience. His breathing was still accelerated when he watched her reach the phone.
It took you a few seconds to answer, trying to regain a minimum of control over your own voice.
- Mom, is everything okay? - he asked, fighting against the choppy breath.
Paul narrowed his eyes, still not letting go of his waist. He was close enough to listen to the other side of the line, and the evident curiosity in his eyes denounced that he was paying attention.
The answer came calmly, completely oblivious to what was happening:
- Yes, I just called to know if you remember where I left Oliver's food.
Paul blinked. You felt his body tremble even before hearing the muffled sound of the laughter he tried to contain against your shoulder.
You pressed your lips not to laugh too and made a discreet gesture with your hand, telling him to be quiet.
- Have you ever looked in the car? - he asked, trying hard to keep his voice neutral.
- Yes. In the car, in the garage, in the whole house and I didn't find it.
Paul closed his eyes and shook his head, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Still laughing softly, he slid his fingertips around her waist, the distracted touches, as if he wanted to remind her that he was still there.
You took a deep breath, feeling your skin burn under his touch.
- Okay. Mom, I'm going in a little while and I'll help you look, okay?
Paul reacted immediately. You saw the frustration take over his face as he threw his head back, resting it on the back of the seat with a dramatic sigh.
- Okay, dear. See you later.
Silence settled in the environment for a few seconds.
You were still holding the phone in your hand when you felt Paul slide his fingers down your hip again, now more slowly, as if he had already planned a way to distract you. When he looked up, he found his eyes fixed on his, loaded with a playful accusation.
- The cat's food? - His voice was hoarse, but full of fun.
You rolled your eyes, trying to hold a smile.
Paul sighed, leaning back and running one of his hands over his face, theatrically exasperated. You smiled lightly, finding his frustration funny, and leaned over to kiss him once more—this time slowly, savoring the moment.
When he walked away, his lips still brushed his when he murmured:
- I promise that next time there won't be any phone to get in the way.
Paul squinted his eyes, still feeling his kiss, and arched an eyebrow.
You laughed and nodded in response.
Paul still seemed skeptical, but the smile on the corner of his lips denounced that he was having fun with his promise. He shook his head slightly, as if he still didn't completely trust it, but didn't say anything else after you got off him and for him to start the car and leave towards your house. Along the way, you leaned back on him, letting one of his arms fall on the side of your body.
He sighed, a low and satisfied sound, and, for a moment, his fingers slid absently down his arm, tracing lazy circles. It was a small gesture, but it said a lot about how much he liked to have you there, to feel your presence close even without having to speak.
The city passed around you in blurs of yellowish lights while the car followed the quiet road. The radio played a low melody, and the tiredness of the day began to weigh on you, making it even easier to snuggle in the heat that Paul's body emanated. He drove with one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting against his waist lazily, his thumb tracing soft circles there, absently.
When the car finally stopped in front of his house, he didn't mention turning off the engine. You knew he wasn't going to get in, but still, neither of them seemed in a hurry to end that moment.
Paul turned a little on the bench to look at you, his eyes soft under the dim light of the street. You stretched out slightly, taking a deep breath before asking, casually:
- Do you have a patrol tomorrow?
Paul nodded, a corner of his mouth rising.
- I have. But I start late.
You smiled, pretending a thoughtful air before muttering, almost distractedly:
- Hm... curious. Because, by chance, my window may end up being open tomorrow night.
Paul blinked, surprised for a second, before letting out a low laugh. He leaned slightly, his eyes shining with amusement.
- Why can't I enter through the front door?
You shrugged, the smile playing on your lips while pretending to be indifferent.
- If you don't mind explaining to my mother why you're entering my house at this time, that's fine with me.
Paul let out a nasal laugh, shaking his head as if pondering the idea.
- Yeah... I think the window seems like a good option.
He said that casually, but the way his gaze held his for an extra moment was enough to warm his chest. As if, deep down, you were waiting for him to choose the door—and, who knows, someday, he would really choose.
Without saying anything else, he leaned over for one last kiss. Slow, as if you were recording the sensation.
When you finally opened the car door and left, he waited until you entered before leaving.
Inside the house, the kitchen light was still on. Oliver meowed impatiently, circling near the counter, and his mother was prop up on the sink, with her arms crossed and an expression of frustration.
- Finally! This cat is already driving me crazy. Do you remember where we left the food?
You went straight to one of the kitchen cabinets, opened the door and, without the slightest effort, found the feed package pushed into the corner.
- Mom. - You lifted the package for her to see.
- ... Where did you find that?
- In the closet. The first one I looked at.
His mother snorted, taking the food from his hand and starting to fill Oliver's pot.
- Okay, next time you look for it first.
You laughed low and were about to go up to the room when you noticed that your mother was looking at you with a curious glow in her eyes.
She crossed her arms, a smile beginning to form.
- Nothing. I'm just waiting for you to tell me what's going on between you and Paul.
Your heart stumbled slightly, but you just arched an eyebrow, pretending to be confused.
- What makes you think there's something going on?
She laughed, shaking her head.
- Daughter, I'm your mother. And I saw the way he looked at you before you came in.
- Were you spying on me through the window? - You ask with false disbelief and she raises her hands in surrender.
- I didn't see anything other than that, I swear.
You felt your face heat up, but kept your composure, just rolling your eyes and starting to go up the stairs.
She laughed louder now, clearly having fun while standing at the foot of the stairs.
- Good night, dear. But just for the record: I like him.
You didn't answer, but the smile on your face remained until you closed the bedroom door behind you.
And, for some reason, the idea of your mother liking Paul made something hot grow inside her chest.
It was a strange, comfortable heat, as if that were right. As if, somehow, it had to be like this.
That night, that whole weekend, had been a mess of feelings for you. Paul took care of every corner of your mind in the last few days and, only now, lying in bed, staring at the dark ceiling of the room, you realized how everything had happened so... fast.
The thought took you by surprise, and as sleep didn't come, you began to reflect.
You and Paul have known each other since you were kids. They provoked each other, fought, implicated each other all the life. But at some point, things stopped being just that. You just hadn't noticed before.
His eyes had changed. You had changed.
You were always aware of the way he looked at you, the way he talked to you. But he always assumed it was just provocation—like Quil, like Embry, like any of the boys who loved to provoke.
But now... now you knew it had never been just that.
After he kissed you for the first time, it seemed impossible not to see the way he looked at you now. It wasn't just desire. It was more. Much more.
Something deep, intense, as if he always wanted that, as if he was always waiting just for the right moment.
Perhaps there has always been something there, buried under years of implications and diverted looks. Something you've never had the courage to admit, until now.
You started to think that Leah always knew. That, deep down, she was always right.
You were enjoying it. To be able to be with him, to be able to kiss him, to be able to say something just to see him smile. To feel his body close, warm, firm, as if the whole world could collapse around him and he would still be there.
But, at the same time, something uncomfortable hovered over his mind.
What exactly was happening between you? What would that be now?
You didn't have time to find the answer. Sleep finally reached you, dragging your thoughts away—and when the dreams came, they brought you back to the best part of your day.
___________________________
That morning passed like a blur, except for the test for which you prepared so much. When he finished, he felt a moderate relief, still digesting the questions as he left the room. The corridor was full of students commenting on the answers, some grumbling, others looking satisfied.
You were about to follow your path when a voice called your name.
You turned around and saw a girl with long dark hair, the strands falling gently over her shoulders. Her face was delicate, and there was something gentle in the way she looked at you, as if she was trying to measure your receptivity. You had seen her before, including with Leah, but they had never been formally introduced.
- So... in the last History class, I saw that you missed it. I ended up having a job, and since I was without a group, I thought of putting our names together. Is everything okay with you? - She asked softly.
- Oh, yes. Of course! Thank you. - You answered with a slight smile and then, out of curiosity, asked: - Sorry, but don't you usually do it with your friends?
Kim hesitated for a moment, fixing the backpack strap on her shoulder.
- Well, they left school a few months ago... So I'm kind of on my own now.
You began to walk down the corridor together, the natural flow of conversation forming between you.
- You're Jared's girlfriend, aren't you? - You asked, a little skeptical.
Kim looked away quickly, a little shy.
When you noticed her reaction, you smiled kindly.
- First time hearing this like this?
- Yes. I'm still getting used to it.
You kept talking while leaving school. Kim was more reserved, but seemed to want to interact. The atmosphere between you was getting lighter as the conversation flowed naturally.
When you arrived at the parking lot, you looked at Kim, realizing that she seemed hesitant, as if she was considering whether she should say goodbye there or continue the conversation.
- Do you want a ride? - You asked without thinking too much.
She blinked a few times, surprised, and then opened a shy smile.
- It's not too far, actually.
So the conversation continued while you were driving.
- And how has it been for you? - you asked, taking a quick look at her. - The whole imprintig thing?
She shrugged, knowing that she could talk about that subject with you.
- It's weird, I think. I mean, everything seems to have been so fast, you know? It's a little disconcerting.
You nodded, your eyes fixed on the road.
- I understand. - you commented. - It happens out of nowhere and you have no choice, the strangeness at the beginning is understandable.
Kim let out a low laugh and shook her head.
- Yes... But the way Jared talks about it, about me... I don't know, it's like it's something that was always meant to happen.
You noticed that there was a certain tone of admiration in her voice.
- And you? How was it for you and Paul?
- Yes - she smiled lightly. - Jared told me something about you being "Paul's girl".
The comment made you stop for a moment before turning your attention to the street. You had never thought that way before, but deep down, you knew it wasn't that absurd.
You laughed, shaking your head.
Kim arched an eyebrow, the smile on her lips suggesting that she didn't totally buy her answer.
- No - You reaffirmed, keeping your eyes on the road. - Jared only says that to provoke, I'm sure.
Kim kept her eyes on you for a moment longer, as if she was trying to decide if she believed what you said. In the end, he just turned his eyes to the window, nodding slightly.
She didn't say anything else, but the feeling that her answer hadn't been totally convincing remained in the air. And, to your own surprise, you found yourself thinking about it more than you should.
When you stopped in front of Kim's house, she smiled in gratitude, releasing her seat belt.
- Thank you for the ride.
Before she could open the door, you asked:
- Do you already know the people? Sam, Emily...?
Kim hesitated for a moment, before nodding slightly.
- I've seen them a few times, but I've never really talked.
You thought for a moment, then smiled.
- Well... if you want, you can go with me to Emily's house on the weekend. She always receives everyone there.
Kim's eyes shone with a timid interest.
- Really? Won't it be weird?
- Of course not. Jared has already put you in this world anyway, right?
She laughed, relaxing a little more.
- In a way, yes. - she hesitated for a moment - So... it's okay.
Kim opened the car door, but before leaving, she gave a last grateful look. And then, she went down, closing the door behind her, and you watched her enter the house before starting again.
___________________________________
The light from the street pole entered through the window glass, casting soft shadows through the room while you leafed through the pages of the book in your hands. His eyes ran through the words, but his mind wandered away—until the vibration of the cell phone next to him broke the silence.
"Are you already sleeping?"
His heart took an involuntary leap.
You ran your fingertips over the screen before answering a simple "Not yet." Then, he slid out of bed and, with light steps, went to the window. He unlocked it as quietly as possible, attentive to the slightest noise that could alert his mother in the next room.
When he looked up, he noticed a familiar silhouette down there, leaning against the wall of the house, arms crossed over his chest and that usual mischievous smile on his lips. The kind of smile that you, without realizing it, had already begun to wait.
You returned the smile, feeling a familiar warmth rise through your chest.
Without saying anything, he moved away a little and, with the ease of someone who had done it before, clung to the flower vine that snaked around the side of the house. The rizzle of the leaves was almost inaudible as he climbed with agility, his muscles flexing under the thin T-shirt.
His heart was beating fast. It wasn't fear that his mother would hear—it was something deeper, an indescribable emotion that came along with the vision of him approaching.
As soon as Paul passed through the window, you closed it back carefully, muffling the sounds of the night outside. When he turned to him, he found him standing there, his eyes running through his room for a moment before returning to you.
You crossed your arms, tilting your head slightly, and let go, in a playful tone:
- You seem a little used to it...- A smile played on his lips, but his eyes studied it with genuine curiosity.
Paul raised his eyebrows and let out a low laugh.
- Oh, really? - He took a step forward, and the sudden proximity made his stomach turn. - And you seem very comfortable receiving visitors like that.
Paul smiled against his lips, that mischievous smile that always made his stomach turn. The kiss started slowly, almost like a test, as if he wanted to savor the moment. His hands walked around his waist in a lazy way, as if there was no hurry—but the tension between you said otherwise.
You slid your fingers through his arms, feeling the muscles under the hot skin, and, without even thinking too much, pushed him back slightly. Paul laughed against his mouth when he felt the pressure of his body guiding him, taking an awkward step until the back of his legs met the mattress.
But before any of you could say anything, a strange sound cut the air.
A long, dragged meoo, and definitely not friendly at all.
You turned around at the same time, and that's when you saw Oliver.
The cat was all goosebumps at the end of the bed, his ears down and his eyes wide fixed on Paul. He let out another threatening sound, his tail waving in pure disgust.
- Does this cat sleep with you?
You held back your laughter, taking Oliver carefully. He was still bristly, but at least he stopped growling.
- He's just a puppy - you murmured, picking up Oliver carefully and making a last caress behind his ears before putting him out of the room. The little cat still looked at you, reluctantly, before walking away, accepting your defeat.
With the same calm, you closed the door and turned the key, ensuring that there would be no more interruptions. When he turned around, Paul was already comfortable—sitting on the edge of his bed, leaning on his arms, watching you with that expression that you were beginning to familiarize.
His eyes slid through you, by the short pajamas that contrasted with the icy air of the night, by the way the soft light of the pole illuminated his features. You still smiled lightly, finding the situation with the cat funny, but there was something in the way he looked at you that made that smile falter.
So, without haste, you approached.
Paul raised an eyebrow, as if waiting to see what you would do. His steps were slow, calculated, as if he were testing the effect it would have on him. You put yourself between your legs, feeling the heat of his body against yours, and then, with the same tranquility, climbed on his lap, fitting your legs on each side.
His eyes shone with a silent challenge, the fun dancing at the bottom of that intense expression.
- So... finally alone? - Paul murmured, a corner smile forming on his lips, his hands automatically meeting his waist.
Paul laughed low, his fingers sliding down his waist in a distracted but firm way, as if he was enjoying the feeling of having you there. His warmth contrasted with the cold temperature of the night, making you feel wrapped in that comfortable heat that was unique to him.
Paul's eyes fixed on yours for an instant before his hand slowly went up his back, his fingers sliding over the thin fabric of his pajamas until they reached the back of your neck, where he made a slight pressure, pulling you closer.
This time, the kiss started slowly. Unlike the previous ones, which were always loaded with urgency, this one had a different taste—a taste of anticipation, of a moment that you could enjoy without so much hurry. His lips moved over yours in a provocative way, savoring every second, as if he wanted to make you anxious for what would come next.
His hands tightened lightly on his shoulders, feeling the tension in the muscles under his fingers. Paul smiled against your lips, as if realizing the effect it had on you, and then deepened the kiss, as if he was finally allowing all that restraint to dissipate.
The world around was in the background. All that existed was the feeling of his warmth, the way his hands explored his waist, slowly descending to the curve of his back, as if they memorized every detail.
When you finally moved away, your breaths were mixed, your faces still close, testing the limits of that minimum distance. Paul passed his thumb against his lower lip, a satisfied smile curving the corners of his mouth.
You pulled him back, and this time there was no hesitation—the kiss began intense, hungry, as if you had been burning with desire for each other for much longer than you admitted.
His hands immediately slid to his hips, firming himself there with a natural possession, pulling you closer, fitting your body against his in a way that made his breathing falter. The heat that emanated from him was almost suffocating, and when you felt the increasing pressure through the clothes, a small sound escaped from your throat, muffled between Paul's lips.
He captured the sound as if it were an invitation, deepening the kiss, letting the tongue explore his with more fervor. His hands moved by reflex, sliding through the warm skin of his arms to the shirt bar. With an agile movement, you pulled the fabric up, feeling the muscles retain under your touch before getting rid of the piece completely.
Paul watched you for a second, his gaze darkened by the intensity of the moment. Then, without taking his eyes off his own, he slid his fingers under the bar of his blouse, slowly going up the fabric, as if he wanted to take advantage of every inch of skin that was being revealed. Not hesitating to pull her blouse up, her fingers brushing her skin in a way that made a chill run down her spine. You raised your arms, allowing him to slide the fabric out, and as soon as his blouse was discarded next to the bed, his eyes ran through your body in a way that made the heat rise to your face.
His lips were back on yours before you could fully process that look—this time slower, exploring, as if you wanted to prolong every second of that moment. His hands went down your bare, firm back, tracing a path to the curve of your waist before grabbing your hips again, pulling you against him in a movement that made you gasp against his mouth.
You couldn't resist the need to touch him anymore. His hands slid down his warm chest, feeling each muscle under his palm before gently pressing it back. Paul understood the message without you having to say anything—he leaned back until his back touched the mattress, taking you along with him, still mounted on his lap.
A funny smile appeared on the corner of his lips.
- He likes to be in control - his voice came out hoarse, loaded with fun and desire.
- And not you? - you provoked, leaning over him, your hair falling next to his face as your fingers ran down the broad shoulders.
Paul laughed low, his eyes shining in a predatory way. And then, before you could predict the movement, he rose slightly, holding you by the waist and spinning their bodies with ease, making you fall on your back against the mattress while he settled on you.
- Usually, yes - he murmured against his skin, his mouth tracing a slow path through his jaw to the curve of his neck.
His weight on you was both comforting and electrifying, as if his presence alone was enough to make your whole body vibrate. His hands slid through you with a familiarity, as if he knew exactly where to touch, where to kiss, how to make you forget the world outside.
His lips continued to go down his neck, leaving a warm and provocative trail. Paul was not in a hurry—he seemed to want to feel every little bit of you, decorate your skin with his mouth and hands. You arched your back slightly when he reached your collarbone, your hands grabbing the sheets next to you while your heart raced.
He smiled against his skin when he noticed his reaction, leaving a slow and intentional kiss at the same point before continuing on his way. His hands went up her ribs, tracing a path to the curve of her breasts, his fingers brushing provocatively before going down again to her waist.
- You're so beautiful... - Paul murmured, his voice dense, the words escaping like a loud thought.
You felt the heat rise up your face, but before you could answer, he captured your mouth again, the deepest, most urgent kiss. Their bodies fit in a way that seemed natural, as if they belonged exactly there, at that moment.
His fingers began to play with the waistband of his shorts, the slow movements, as if he was waiting for some sign from you. You took a deep breath, feeling the heat grow under your skin, then lifted your hips slightly, giving him the answer he wanted.
Paul smiled sideways, satisfied, and pulled the piece with ease, sliding it down his legs and letting it fall to the floor. His gaze ran through his exposed body, his fingers gently brushing the soft skin of his thigh before climbing slowly, exploring the way back to his waist.
You felt a chill run through your spine with the way he touched you—it wasn't just desire, it was something deeper, almost as if he was trying to memorize every detail, every reaction of yours.
Without taking your eyes off him, you took your hands to the waistband of his pants, leaning on your elbows to have him closer. Your fingers pulling him closer. Paul took a deep breath when he understood what you wanted, the jaw contracting slightly.
The smile that appeared on Paul's face was different from all the others he's ever given you—there was something there besides desire, something almost... passionate.
He leaned over, capturing his lips in a deep kiss, gently moving his fingers away. Soon after, the subtle sound of a belt falling apart filled the room, intensifying the expectation that already made his breathing falter.
A firm touch on her hip was the only warning before the sweeping sensation of being filled, slowly and deeply. His body reacted immediately—his eyes rolled under his heavy eyelids, his head tipping back as a low moan escaped from his lips. His back sank into the mattress once again, surrendering to the moment.
Paul, in turn, could not have imagined something so intense, not even in his best dreams. The feeling of you around him, the enveloping warmth, the way his gaze, loaded with desire, attached to his as he moved—everything was too much.
He let his face fit the curve of his neck, inhaling its smell, feeling the breathing accelerated against his skin. With each movement, he noticed his effort not to make noise, the way his hands squeezed his back, holding him there, as if he didn't want to let him go.
Her mind was spinning, lost in the pleasure that grew between you. All you felt at that moment was him, every movement deepening the connection, filling you completely.
The rhythm between you was slow, intense, as if every movement was deliberate, felt in every inch of the skin. His breath was choppy, trying to follow his, which weighed against his neck while he held his waist firmly, guiding you in the right compass.
The feeling of having him so deep, so close, made his mind spin. Your fingers slid down his back, seeking support, while you felt the heat growing inside you, stronger and stronger, more impossible to contain.
- Paul... - His name escaped in a sigh, almost like a request, and the impact of this on him was immediate.
Paul moaned low against his skin, his breathing failing for an instant, as if it somehow disarmed him. He leaned over to face you, his eyes dark and intense, and something in that look made his stomach turn.
His rhythm faltered for a moment before coming back, a little firmer, as if he wanted to enjoy every second. His own body responded instinctively, his nails gently digging against the hot skin on his back.
Pleasure came like a growing wave, taking over every part of your being, until, finally, you were dragged by it. His body arched, his lips half-open letting out a muffled sound while everything in you trembled.
Paul followed soon after, burying his face in the space between your neck and shoulder, withdrawing from you before undoing with a last dragged moan.
For a long moment, all that was heard was the out-of-step breathing of the two of you, the room still hot for what had just happened.
He kept his hands on his waist, as if he didn't want to move away yet, while his own breathing began to calm down.
When Paul finally raised his face, his gaze met his, and something squeezed inside his chest. He smiled lightly, looking satisfied in a different way, and slid his fingers gently over your face before giving you one last kiss.
After cleaning properly, you were back in bed. You were leaning on his chest, almost falling asleep, while he slid his fingers absently through a lock of your hair. The touch was light, almost lazy, as if even he didn't want that moment to end.
The feeling of being there, wrapped in the warmth of his body, was comforting in a way you couldn't explain. The cold of the night no longer mattered, as well as anything else besides the comfortable silence that filled the room.
But, as much as his body was relaxed, his mind still wandered.
The doubt that had hovered in his mind the night before came back strongly, now impossible to ignore. What, after all, did Paul want from you? Why did it seem so easy to let him in whenever he asked, without even hesitating?
You moistened your lips, hesitating for a second before asking, your voice coming out low, almost fearful:
- Paul... what is this for you?
The question was suspended in the air, fragile, but loaded with something you didn't know how to name yourself. Part of you feared the answer—not because you thought it would hurt you, but because you needed to hear something that would assure you that it wasn't fleeting. That he wasn't a passenger.
He felt his breath weigh a little above his head, the fingers playing in his hair stopping for a moment. Then, he sighed, tightening his arm around him, as if he wanted to keep you there, close.
- You really don't know? - His voice sounded hoarse, low, loaded with something that made his stomach turn.
You remained silent, waiting.
Paul moved slightly, his chest rising and falling under you, as if he were trying to find the right words. Then, after a moment, he spoke, and his answer came with an overwhelming certainty.
Your heart jumped. You knew, of course you knew. But part of you wanted to hear from him, wanted a guarantee, something that made everything less confusing.
- But what about you? - He continued, his fingers tracing soft circles on his skin. - What do you want?
For a moment, you considered the question. But the answer was already there, obvious in the way you always let him in, in the way your skin responded to his slightest touch.
You looked up to find his and gave a small, lazy smile.
- I think you already know.
Paul watched you for a moment, then let out a short laugh through his nose, pulling her a little closer.
He hadn't even realized how much he needed to hear that until the moment the words came out of his mouth. Knowing that you wanted him, that it wasn't something unilateral, that you didn't see all that as a mistake... that made something inside him quiet down, fit in a right way.
He ran his fingers through his arm, feeling his warm skin against his, recording that moment in his memory.
So, almost hesitant, you murmured:
- So... does that mean that next time you enter through the front door?
- Of course. - He answers with a slight smile.
After some time in silence again, Paul sighed, letting his head fall back for a moment before moving, sitting on the edge of the bed.
- I need to go - he murmured, although he didn't seem very excited about the idea.
You watched as he reached for the pants thrown on the floor, wearing them with slow movements, as if he were dragging the moment as much as possible. Still lying down, you passed your eyes through him, memorizing every detail as if it were important. And maybe it was.
But then you also got up, taking your pajamas and dressing her before going to where he was. When Paul turned to you, about to say something, you interrupted him, holding him and pulling him for one last kiss.
This time, there was no hesitation. There was no doubt. Just his taste, hot and right, and the way he held your waist, as if he wanted to keep you there for one more moment.
When you moved away, Paul smiled against your lips.
- If you continue like this, Sam will kill me.
You laughed, sliding your hands through his arms before finally letting go.
Paul moved easily, leaning on the edge of the window before going down the vine with the same agility as always. You watched him disappear into the darkness of the night, the light steps barely making noise on the floor outside.
The cold wind came in for a moment before you closed the window, locking it in silence. The room seemed emptier now, but the warmth of his presence still remained on his skin, on the sheets, in the air.
You lay down again, staring at the ceiling for a few seconds before pulling the blanket up. When he closed his eyes, a slight smile dragged over his face.
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