There’ll be happiness. Paige makes sure of it.
Themes: angst with a happy ending, paige is flirty and i love her for it
A/N: hiii i've been MIA but i'm back and omg guys i lowkey kinda love this. this song has been my hyperfixation for the past two months and i've been dying to write a fic to happiness but i didn't want it to be paige-angst so this is what i came up with instead.
also i'm lowkey exposing myself with this fic, and i clearly need therapy sooo PLZ BE NICE
please enjoy and lemme know what you think ;)
A single tear slides down your cheek as you close the last box of your belongings, landing on the brown cardboard with a wet plop of harsh finality. You gaze around the room, which is now nearly empty, and a sob that you had been suppressing all day manages to break through your normally tough exterior.
Seven years of love and laughter gone just like that.
And now, here you were, dividing all of your shit into boxes and contemplating if this feeling was even worth the seven years in heaven.
The empty space where the bed once stood leaves a lump in your throat. Images of being pulled into a warm, strong chest every night bombard your consciousness, and you turn away, unable to stomach it any longer.
It was a simple story, really.
You and Jake were high school sweethearts, turned college sweethearts. He had taken you to prom and twirled you around in a sparkly, pink dress. He had taken your virginity, and you had imagined your entire life together with bright, starry eyes.
College was spent between your dorm rooms, crammed into twin beds and talking about kids and houses with white picket fences. You had moved in together after college, and the two of you were blissfully in love.
But last week, Jake had come home late at night with empty eyes and shaky hands, and he had quietly told you that he was done.
And in the blissfulness of being in love, the words did not even register for a moment.
You were still dancing when the music stopped. And the world went cold, the sunshine in your life suddenly burnt out like a candle that was blown out by a bitter wind. The smoke was engulfing your cold frame, curling around you in dark, taunting tendrils.
You shiver now, looking back on it all. Your sweatshirts were all packed already, and instinctively, you go to the closet to grab one of Jake’s.
The realization hits you like a truck, and you stop in your tracks. What is his is no longer yours.
No one had taught you what to do when a good man hurts you, so you were going to pick yourself up piece by piece.
“Baby, please just listen t’me,” Jake slurs, his voice coming through the speaker of your phone in loud, drunken drawls, causing you to wince. It was the first night in your new apartment, and you were already struggling with the fact that it was just you and the four walls that surrounded you.
Your voice wavers as you try to remain level headed. “No. I’m not doing this anymore,” you whisper. The other line is silent for a moment, and you think he has given up. But the delicate swoon of a woman’s voice cuts through the phone, and your stomach lurches with both dread and anger.
It had been a week, and here he was, filling the divide with random women.
Well, two could play that game.
It didn’t take long to fall back into old habits. As they say, old habits die screaming, and it had become nearly impossible for you to hold back from the distraction the steady stream of men and women provided.
It was deeply unhealthy, and you knew it. Once they would leave, you’d seek solace in the steaming shower where the water both hid your tears and washed away the filth of last night’s activities that had lingered on your soft skin.
No matter how hard you scrubbed, you could not manage to rid yourself of the bruises and the overwhelming shame that seeped out of every pore.
Your body, which was once worshipped with soft kisses and gentle touches, was quickly becoming a way to numb the pain of having the rug pulled out from under you. Dark marks litter your skin in swirling, chaotic patterns that remind you of how little worth you have.
And in the darkness, the cruelest words taunt your inner psyche.
‘Maybe this is all I'm good for anymore.’
Those very words echo in your mind as you stumble into your apartment building on an unseasonably warm morning in April. The doorman gives you a sly look as he notices last night's mascara caked into the waterline of your eyes, smudged from the long night and the rough sex that followed.
You duck your head, wanting to disappear, and you hurry through the lobby, wanting to get out of the sparkly dress that was still adorning your body.
You reach the elevator, pressing the button to go up impatiently. The doors open, and you let out a quiet sigh of relief.
“Wait! Hold up, I’m coming,” a voice shouts, and you turn to look in the direction of the girl.
It was like a scene out of one of those ridiculous hallmark movies. Blonde hair gleams in the early morning sun, reflecting off of the large glass windows of the lobby. The girl’s blue eyes shine with amusement as you stare up at her, momentarily forgetting your desire to remain unnoticed.
She steps into the enclosed space with you, and you let out a shaky breath. Her presence was intoxicating, and it was quickly becoming very apparent that you looked like a goddamn mess.
“Fun night?” She asks with a teasing lilt to her voice, and you blush.
“Not really,” you say blandly, surprised by your own candor. “But it was a good distraction.”
The girl studies you, her eyes raking over your collarbone where a large hickey now resided.
“I’m Paige,” she says, and you tell her your name as the flush extends over your chest, settling into it.
“I’m in apartment 555. Let me know if you ever want to talk,” she winks, walking out of the elevator. “Or if you need a healthier distraction,” she adds over her shoulder right as the doors close.
Your face blooms with color again, and your belly erupts in the feeling of excitement.
Because in that moment, you had unconsciously decided to leave it all behind.
For there was a glorious sunrise looming over the black hills that had risen in your heart, blanketing a warmth you hadn’t felt in months. And her name was apparently Paige.
Paige was on the forefront of your mind all day, and you welcome the giddiness, inviting it into your heart like an old friend.
A new motivation pours into you as you walk into your apartment, the bare walls emulating the blandness you had been feeling since the breakup. Your eyes glance towards your storage closet, and without a second thought, you begin to decorate, the pieces of you that you once had to keep hidden were now proudly out on display.
It was the first step to healing. And damn, did it feel good.
Healing is never a linear process. And as your thumb grazes over your phone screen, open to Tinder, your mind fights with your heart over falling back into bad habits.
You huff, looking around to make sure no one watches you as you stand near the elevator waiting to go back home after the gym one afternoon. Your thumb swipes across a few profiles, almost instinctively, as you mindlessly scroll to find someone worthy of your time.
You weren’t even going to fuck them this time, you tell yourself. You just needed a little attention to fill the void.
If you repeat it enough times, surely it’ll start to ring true.
“She’s cute. Why’d you swipe left?” A husky voice murmurs in your ear, and you jump, immediately closing out the app on your phone and whirl around to face the familiar sound.
“We gotta stop meeting like this,” Paige chuckles, looking you up and down, and you flush.
She just had that effect on you.
“If she’s so cute, why don’t you date her?” You ask, almost defensively, feeling the heat of her gaze. Damn her and those eyes.
“Prefer to meet pretty girls in person,” she smirks, clearly noticing the blush on your cheeks.
“Did you think about my offer?”
You fight a smile. “Maybe,” you shrug, wanting to keep your cards close to your chest. Even if you had been internally fawning over her the past few weeks, she did not need to know that.
Her smile widens, and you swear you can actually see a twinkle in her eye.
“And…?” She goads, leaning in closer to you as the elevator opens, and she leads you in with a hand ghosting across the small of your back.
“I just got out of a really long relationship,” you start to explain, faltering as she steps even closer into your space.
“Who said anything about a relationship?” Her eyes flicker down to your lips and then back to yours, tracking your face expertly.
“I–” you begin, her breath fanning over your face distracting you from being able to put words together. You lean in, your eyes nearly fluttering closed before the elevator pings and the door opens.
You suck in a breath, the realization slamming into you.
Paige squeezes your hip, as you look back up at her wide eyes.
You nod dumbly, enthralled by the trance she had put you in. The elevator doors close, and you’re met with your own reflection staring back at you, and in the silver chrome, you watch your smile come back to life.
You arrive at her door that night, your palms slick, and you wipe them on your pants just in case she holds your hand tonight.
You were lying if you said you hadn’t spent the entire day fantasizing about Paige. You had thought about the way her hair was tucked up in a bun this morning, practically begging you to take it out and run your hands through the soft, golden locks. And you had thought about how her pink, plush lips had formed into a smirk, making you want to tell your funniest jokes just to see the curve of her smile widen.
You had thought about her hands and the way they had grazed across your skin, setting every nerve ending in your body ablaze with a feeling you hadn’t felt in months.
All of the people you had hooked up with in your sickening conquest to forget about your ex-boyfriend could not hold a candle to Paige.
And that fucking terrified you. But here you were, at her door, ready to face whatever the universe was going to throw at you.
There’ll be happiness. You just knew it.
You shake your head, scolding yourself for the internal gay ramblings, and you knock, waiting for that gorgeous face to appear on the other side.
The door opens, and your breath hitches as Paige smiles at you, reaching for your hand to pull you inside.
Thank god you had wiped them off.
“Welcome to my crib,” she jokes, leading you to sit on her couch.
You scan the room, surprised at how well it was decorated before landing back on her.
Paige had sat next to you, drawing her legs up in a way that felt strangely intimate. She crosses her hands dramatically. “So, tell me why you’ve been using Tinder to cope.”
You splutter, not expecting her to be so blunt.
“Damn, you don’t need to roast me,” you giggle, a faux pout on your lips, drawing Paige’s attention to them.
“Is it cuz of your ex?” She asks, and you nod.
“Yeah. I–I guess I just wanted to feel like I had some sort of worth still.”
Paige stares at you with a somber look on her face. She reaches up to cup your cheek, running her thumb across the smooth skin of your jaw.
“You do. Promise,” she whispers genuinely, and the simplicity of her words rip every single bit of cautiousness from your body.
And you lean in and kiss her.
Your lips move in perfect synchronicity, like two dance partners who could see inside each other's minds. You lean into her touch, her hand coming up to rest on your waist, as you nearly squirm onto her lap.
She moans as your mouth opens, letting her fall into you, as two becomes one.
It was perfect and poetic, just as new beginnings tend to be.
Time slows as you sit with each other, exploring and indulging before you finally pull away, your chest rising and falling in quick, staccato breaths.
Paige places a kiss onto your cheek, brushing her thumb across your lips to sweep away the extra spit that had accumulated amidst the sudden passion.
“Well, I’d say that was a pretty successful first session, huh?” She teases.
“When’s the next one?” You ask, a giggle bubbling up in your chest, as you lean back into Paige, who just laughs, pulling you in for another kiss.
You were going to be just fine.
Paige would make sure of it.
welllll what'd you think?? thanks so much for reading
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