the last time i saw paul⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚
despite being gone for four years, paul was all you'd thought about no matter how hard you tried to forget him entirely.
content warnings: canon-typical violence, blood, abandonment issues, paul and reader are slightly toxic but whateverrrr, reader is fem-aligned/presenting, mentions of college lol, reader is insecure (me too girl), angst, some mention of sex and other bits of intimacy, mdni
songs: a pearl – mitski, paul – big thief, forwards beckon rebound – adrianne lenker, yesterday - the beatles, silver springs - fleetwood mac
wc: 7.2k
a/n: first fic on this account! it was killer to write i'm not going to lie, and i'm not a fan of the ending entirely but it's finally here! also this was not beta-read so if u see anything wrong.. no u didn't lol
dividers - @toastray @cursed-carmine
“OH THE LAST TIME I SAW PAUL, IT WAS HORRIBLE AND I ALMOST LET HIM IN”
California was just as sunny and just as hot as it had always been. You can smell the salt in the breeze as the sun begins to set on the boardwalk. It was still busy, despite the fact that it had just become right around nighttime. It was always lively, you consider for a moment. You begin to wonder if he’ll be out tonight, as he usually is. Yet, you stop yourself before the sinking pit can worm its way into your gut.
The way that you’d left him wasn’t the best moment for yourself, or for him to be frank. It had been four years though, who knows if they had still stayed in Santa Carla, or if they were even still alive. You shook the thought of his golden halo and cerulean eyes out of your mind completely.
The music in your car turns up, as you try to quell your mind. The smooth leather feels cool against your hands as you begin to tap your fingers against the steering wheel. The quick, staccato, thrums of your hands against the wheel do well to ground you. Looking around, you’d realized you were nearing your childhood home. No one else would be there, they had all gone to other corners of the Earth and you were left here quickly after your graduation, quickly after the death of your grandfather.
It had been his house, so lively and filled to the brim with people. Siblings, friends, oftentimes the door would be open for anyone who needed the help. Now, with him gone, the entire property looked to be dull and lifeless. As you pull into the driveway, you let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding in. You didn’t have many belongings to haul in, and once you were done setting the boxes that contained your whole life (including your degree) in the living area and master bedroom, you physically deflated.
The house was so empty. You had never seen the house so empty, so colorless. There were some leftover possessions in the house, thick purple velvet curtains, some beaded entry-ways, and fairy lights. Some semblance of the eclectic old man you had loved so dearly. Everything was quickly becoming too much to handle. Your limbs seemed to carry you, without much thought or command from your mind. Your old bicycle was left in the garage, and you had somehow ended up with your worn canvas bag. You’d gotten it several years ago at this point, the thick material wearing down and becoming much softer to the touch.
The old army surplus you’d bought it from with your first paycheck must’ve been closed by now. It was not like it received much business anyway, mainly old vets and teenage boys. Your suspicions were confirmed when you had rolled past it, an old, homely building. Everything seemed the same, but different. The whiplash was enough to nauseate you. It felt like you were in a different reality altogether. One where you had never existed in the confines of Santa Carla before, like this was your first time. As you looked toward the road, you realized your legs were burning and you were approaching the boardwalk. Of course, in your deep thought, you would come back here of all places. Cursing at yourself, you hitched your bike and began to walk mindlessly.
The boardwalk was enough to transport you right back to the summer before you were off to university. You had taken a gap year after your high school graduation, and this was the last summer you would be spending in Santa Carla. The boardwalk had been the center of your universe for those two summers. The flashing lights from the ferris wheel were just as blinding as ever, and incredibly vibrant against the now-indigo sky. It seemed as if the boardwalk stretched for miles, like a never-ending carnival. It felt that way, too.
Out of the corner of your glasses-rimmed eyes you saw the Video Max. It wouldn’t be so bad to go in and see if Max himself was still there, though, trusting your better judgement you dodged it and ended up in the same, new-age store you frequented years ago. It was a younger woman at the counter this time, instead of the white-haired, whitty, older woman who ran the place. You supposed she hired help, seeing as she was probably retirement age by now.
“Welcome in,” the girl all but signed out. She looked less than pleased that you were in here, but nevertheless you offered her a small smile. “Once you’re done I can take you up here.”
“Thanks.” You tried in your most enthusiastic voice, but it fell flat. You were exhausted, and even though you were a little excited to come to one of your old haunts, your limbs felt like lead. Still, you walked around, spotting any new inventory. The crystal selection was pretty much the same. As you passed by the malachite and the carnelian, you spotted a new display. Shiny, you mused to yourself. It was a wire frame tree, with simple chains adoring it instead of leaves. You released the chains were necklaces, with crystals wired in and attached at the ends. They were nothing short of gorgeous. And then, you saw it. The blue lace agate, delicate and at the end of one of the simple silver chains.
The crystal had always reminded you of Paul. His eyes were deep, but when they shimmered they looked eerily similar to the stone. As you reached out to the display, you released a smile that had crossed your face. What the hell, you thought. It couldn’t hurt to get, for old times sake.
Once you began making your way to the register, you heard the faint bell above the door let out a soft hum. You stopped dead in your tracks, tucked away behind the entrance to a different room and a shelf. You didn’t know if it was them for sure, but the way your heart tugged and your stomach dropped told you all you needed to know.
The silence was deafening, but as you came to your senses you began to hear their rowdy howls. Marko, you’d figured. “Marko.” a stern voice corrected. And that was David. You knew you were right on the money with your assumptions. The only one to get any of the boys to stop with just their name was David. You set the necklace down, and your gaze fell to your feet. Your sneakers were worn with time, much like your other possessions.
The tap-tap of their footsteps moved into the opposite end of the shop and you realize this was your only opportunity. You booked it out of the store, the clerk giving you a confused scowl as you left. You had to give it to her, you probably looked suspicious as hell, but then again, she probably knew that types like you weren’t about to steal from a small, little crystal shop.
As you passed through the rest of the boardwalk you saw some of its most notable features. The weathered games with ancient stuffed prizes. The colorful paint dulled and chipped away, but somehow whimsical and nostalgic. The carousel was still running somehow as well, the porcelain of the horses cracked. You could hear the creaking of the gears, begging for an ounce of oil, and the soft hum of the electricity running through it. You remember it was your favorite as a kid, but now, in this moment it was much too bright, much too painful. You looked past it, your face burning and eyes prickling with a feeling you had tried all too hard to keep down for the last four years.
You nearly tripped as you toed the edge of the boardwalk, leading into the extensive beach. The flickers of white-hot embers were carried by the salty breeze from the ocean. There were multiple bonfires, but surprisingly the beach was not too crowded. You supposed it had something to do with the plethora of missing posters covering every mile of Santa Carla. The scarlet lettering framing the blocky text, it haunted you then and it haunted you now. The greyscale faces melted together sometimes, when you slept
Even in the dream world you could see them, but sometimes in your dreams he was there. A flicker of his blond tresses, akin to a lion's mane or a small fire. The flashes of his pearly white smile, sometimes covered crimson. On those nights it twists into a sick hyena’s grin. Not that this would dissuade you from crawling right back to him. You missed him with your entire being, and sometimes when you would go back to the shitty apartment you had just off-campus, you thought he might be waiting for you there. As unrealistic as it is, after an especially draining day, you’d hoped he was there.
Movies, songs, hell even the mere sight of the beach or a carnival set you off, into a spiralling fit of nothing but Paul. It was no way to live for the past four years but you had managed.
But now, as you find an unoccupied area of the beach and sit down, you try to think about how it was for the better. As you tuck your knees to your chest, you fidget with the sides of the rubber soles of your shoe, coated in a thin layer of sand. You tuck your head atop your knees and let out a breathy sigh. The last time you were on the beach it hadn’t ended well, for yourself or for Paul.
It was easy to remember, you played it over in your mind even thousands of miles away, even if you tried your damndest not too. Of course going right back to the source would crack open the memories from your head. It seeped out, thick and metallic like the sticky, red, ichor Paul and his brothers survived off of.
It felt as if you never left at all as you sat now, in the dark of the beach. The only light flickering over were the bright neons of the boardwalk and embers gliding through the air, carried from some other party. As the memories flooded in, it seeped into the real world. You drowned out the noise, the constant buzzing music and yelling, from the groups of surf nazis surrounding you.
The lights that were once cooler and more distant seemed to grow closer, and then when you were back on the beach, it was colder. Summer was coming to an end in this memory. You could almost feel your skin prick in gooseflesh. It was just like how it was the night you broke things off with Paul. Obviously the decision hadn’t come easily, but you were finally moving on with your life. Santa Carla was suffocating for a local such as yourself, and you had worked yourself nearly to death just to have the opportunity to go to college. Paul knew this, yet the problem didn’t lay there.
“Paul”, you began wearily. He was in a post-feeding haze, he had you tucked into his side sitting up on the beach. Dwayne was tending to the fire left over from the night’s victims, who were long disposed of at this point. You hadn’t been there to witness it. Even if your relationship together was nearing a year and a half, sometimes their yelps of pain and prayers for mercy were too much to bear.
You knew he could smell your trepidation, the rush of your blood and maybe even the bile in your stomach. He looked over to you, all boyish charm and sweet pets to your hip. “Yeah?”
He could sense something was wrong, he forewent the typical pet names, he usually always addressed you with such. The sound of the boombox in the back did little to ease your discomfort. It was Paul’s, of course, so naturally it was playing something entirely to his tastes. You were so nervous you couldn’t quite put your finger on the song, but it was probably some variation of Cinderella or Alice Cooper.
Sitting up a little more, you slightly fell out of his grasp. Pulling away to look closer into his face, you caught a glimpse at the sheer confusion that fell upon him. As a vampire, he could just read your mind, but had decided against it early on into meeting you. Mind reading, control, those were more David’s speed for recruitment, and even then this was an entirely different matter. To Paul this wasn’t recruitment, it was romance. With everything in him he didn’t want to mess it up. Most of the relationships he carried were fast and hot, and little else.
“You know I’m leaving in a few weeks, Paul.” you muttered out, reaching to tuck some of his wild tresses behind his ear, in one of your last acts of tenderness with him. He looked a little shocked to see you pulling away from him, but leaned back into your outstretched hand. Paul looked like an overgrown puppy, and it tugged at your heartstrings before you remembered exactly what you had to say. He nodded, his cheek cupped in your hand.
You pulled it away slowly, bringing it down to fiddle with your fingernails and the hem of your top. “I’m not coming back home Paul. Not for a while, anyway.” Your eyes darted around, looking at anything but Paul. Counting the grains of sand, watching the ocean tide, fiddling with your jewelry, anything at all to distract yourself from the current moment.
You swallowed harshly, clearing your throat before you continued, “I have to stay at my university, I have to work, I have to stay up there. Summers and all. I won’t be able to come back until I graduate. You bit at your lip, and your face burned. You weren’t sure if it was out of shame or if it was because you knew you’d miss him terribly. You could see through your peripheral how he physically deflated.
As you finally brought your eyes to meet his face, his eyes were searching for any hint at your admittance being some cruel joke. He knew it wasn’t something you’d do, but in that moment it was all he hoped for.
His thick eyebrows crinkled together as he let out a disbelieving laugh. “You, you can’t be serious, babe.” A wary, shaky smile crossed his puffy lips. You could tell that he’d been chewing on them as well, he’d picked up the habit from you. “You can’t be leaving, for what? Four years? Fuck,” He paused. His disbelief quickly shifted to something else. Paul’s temperament, while better than Marko’s, was still unpredictable.
You stood up, brushing the sand off of your bottom. Tears spilled over, your face was burning and you knew you needed to go home. “I’m sorry, Paul. I’m so sorry.” You pushed the tears away with your wrist as you sniffled out apologies.
He sprung up, face morphed into anger. “How long did you know?” he all-but snarled out at you.
You knew he would never hurt you, he never had before. Being in a relationship with a vampire meant that casual was off of the table, and you both needed to trust each other completely. Even then, he still saw your human condition as something fragile, like you were made of porcelain. Honestly, you’d never seen him so angry before, at least not at you.
“God, I just. I just, I’ve known for about a month.” You choke out. You knew it was bad, hiding it from him, but you didn’t want to ruin what you had. You’ve never had a real boyfriend before, navigating a relationship was hard for the first time, nevertheless one with your vampiric paramour.
He’d closed the distance between you quickly, with his unnatural speed he was there before you could let out another unsure, shaky breath. His large hands, clad in rings and corded bracelets, were wrapped around the upper part of your arms. Looking down at them, your shame only burrowed deeper into your chest. Some of them were watching with your own, and you spied the onyx beads around his wrists. You had made it for him.
You were a little shocked, too. That your bones weren’t immediately splintered in his firm grasp. You could tell that beneath the anger, he was just as sad about it as you were, hence the control in his grip that he usually struggled to possess. He could easily kill you, here and now and put an end to the whole affair, but you knew he wouldn’t.
“A fucking month?” he all but yelled. David and the rest of his brothers looked over to us, to which Paul shot over an intense and crazed look. Through their telepathic connection you knew he had told his brothers to leave. They did, with a swift motion of David’s hands. They filed into their bikes and took off, presumably towards Hudson’s Bluff. The sand kicked back from their bikes and you watched as the lights disappeared the further out they got.
“I’m sorry,” you babbled out again, “I just didn’t know how to tell you, Paul.” Your hands found themselves fiddling with the lapels of his jacket and he released you from his grip. You attempted to step closer to him, be he stepped back, running one of his hands through his wild hair.
He looked like he was deep in thought for a moment, before looking back at you. “Just fuckin’ forget you even knew us. If you fuckin’ tell anyone you’re dead.” His voice was low and gravelly, despite the malice dripping from his maw, you could have sworn he sounded exactly the same when you were cuddled into him in his nest just a few days ago, watching some shit tape he had stolen.
Clouded over with tears, you saw his blurry form as he walked toward his lone bike. “Paul?” you whimpered. “Paul, wait, I’m sorry! Please don’t leave me here!” you called after him. “Paul!”
You knew it was too late when he revved his bike, and it seemed that just as fast as he had come into your life, he was gone. “I fucking hate you!” The scream you let out was guttural, torn from your throat. Even if it wasn’t true you needed him to feel just as hurt as he had just left you. The air felt so thick, you were suffocating on it. After that it all felt like a blur, suddenly you were back home crying into your grandfather’s arms. How could you even begin to explain this to him? You couldn’t, you knew you couldn’t. In the end you didn’t even try. What would have been if you stayed? It was something that kept you up at night.
It’s a sudden surge of energy, like a ball of pure light, that pulls you from your heartache-riddled imagination. It had felt like a surge of air had graced your lungs, you sensed him before you’d seen– or even heard him. At first, you weren’t sure if it was just being back in Santa Carla, back home, or if it was perhaps the ocean. The moon’s silver beams racing across the water, it made the ripples such a deep, somber blue. It reminded you of Paul endlessly. After another moment, and the unrelenting feeling in your gut, you knew that he and his brothers were close.
Even after all this time, you could feel his presence. Your skin prickled and the smooth ocean air ran down your spine, filling your chest with a familiar warmth. Despite everything that happened, you weren’t afraid. If you felt him, you knew there was a very likely chance that he felt you as well. Your last conversation was a sour note to leave on, and certainly not one that would make for an easy reunion. Yet, you felt your limbs become sluggish, as if they were sinking and made of lead. You couldn’t leave the beach now, and if you could you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to.
It wasn’t long before the sound of playful help and howls of laughter rang out into your ears. They were here, now. Maybe it was a coincidence that you ended up on the same dark end of the beach, but you won’t pretend that there wasn’t at least some part of you that was hoping you’d be this close. Hell, even if he had threatened to kill you, the worlds lacked any real venom, they were devoid, though. His voice was always so warm, I’d never heard him so somber. Now, in this moment the warmth was back. You’d brought your head up to look towards the source of the sound, and you saw him. It seemed like he was glowing, coming toward you.
Your vision trained on him, it was ironic how much he reminded you of the sun. If he had made any contact with it, he’d die. Yet he was perilously bright, a ball of pure energy, and just as dangerous. Much like the solar system, you’d revolved around him for so long, and even when you weren’t near him, you still felt his pull.
It seemed that he had felt yours, as well. He paused in breakneck speed, looking as if he was punched in the gut. Paul wasn’t stopped for long though, his eyes darted to your direction. It seemed that none of the other boys paid any mind to Paul’s strange behavior, except for Marko. He was always attuned to Paul, maybe that’s why you’d gotten along with him so well.
David and Dwayne didn’t cease in the saunter towards the pyre adjacent to you, they would have to cross over where you were sitting to get to the surf nazis. You suspect that they had already known you were there, always being more observant than your Paul.
There was a pit forming in your stomach, it had turned sour and unsure and suddenly your limbs flew up on their own accord. Even though you knew he was faster than you, that this was his turf, you ran straight to the boardwalk. The bright, multi-colored lights acting as a waypoint for you to find your way back. You weren’t sure how you could face him, if he even wanted to see you. One thing you knew though, is that he didn’t seem to follow you. As you walk up the stairs from the beach to the end of the boardwalk, you don't see him or any of the others anywhere near you. If he was following you, he would have caught up.
It was strange, you knew he had seen you, but then again everything in Santa Carla was strange.
The lights were blurry, and everything was too overstimulating. The necklace you wore felt heavy and your senses were muddled. You knew you would have to push through it to get back to your grandfather’s house– or rather, your home.
The speed at which everything changed, yet stayed the same, was enough to make you nauseous, and you wished for a moment you hadn’t run from Paul, but the thought was fleeting and all too late. It wasn’t the first time you had become closed off to him, you recall the first time you ran out of the cave to the edge of Hudson’s Bluff after he insisted you were the “prettiest thing” he’d ever seen.
You didn’t believe him for so long, he was drop-dead gorgeous and you knew he could have his fill of anyone in Santa Carla, hell, anyone in California. It had made you sick when you thought that, perhaps, he would realize this and leave. At the time, you hadn’t anticipated that it would have been you to leave first.
That night, he chased you down after a minute to let you cool off. Despite how childish Paul could be he was incredibly good at reading emotions, at being intune with them. Marko used to say it was because of all the people he had relations with, which only earned him a smack upside the head from Paul. He could see it was a touchy subject with you, and it was why you had never done anything below your clothes. Paul was incredibly emotionally intelligent, even if he was prone to tantrums and mood swings. When he felt things, he felt them wholly. You supposed that is why you both worked so well together.
As you both overlooked the bluff that night Paul bared his mind to you. He confided that despite being alive for so long he had never had something so committed. Paul often slept with people who wanted him for his body, and he wanted them for a meal. It was transactional, which was the reason he cited for being so scared with this relationship. Care and mutual trust in a romantic sense was somehow new to him as well, and the last thing he wanted to do was ruin it. It was the moment you realized how similar you and Paul truly were.
In your mindless walking, you realized you were right outside the metal fences that led to the queue for the swing carousel. You craned your neck to look upwards at it, the couples at the top screaming in bliss and contentedness. It had been you at some point and that familiar feeling of dread ate at you once more. God you missed him more than anything. Long distance would have been hard, especially with his condition, but you would have tried so hard. The regret of letting things end the way they did would eat at you for the rest of your life, you feared.
As you continued to pass by the boardwalk for the second time that night, you felt watched. No matter how much you tried to convince yourself that it was nothing, you knew that if you peered over your shoulder you would see Paul. He was following you, yet it wasn’t heavy, it was like goading a kitten to come to you instead of chasing it. In four years Paul certainly had matured a little, and yet he was still in-tune with the way you functioned wholly. You tried to justify that if he was coming to you, he wasn’t angry, that you should give into him. You stood there, unmoving for a moment. Letting the night breeze fan across your skin, you made your decision. Accepting him felt like the most normal thing you had done in forever.
Looking over, you locked eyes with him. Time seemed to slow, or even stop all together. You were still rendered motionless, unlike Paul who lurched forward. Sand flew up behind him as he ran. Afterall, he was undead and his vampiric conditions made him faster, more durable. He was at your side in mere seconds. Your eyes screwed shut, you weren’t sure if it was due to the sand or the impact he made as he threw you into his chest and held you there. The feeling was familiar, as the fishnet of his top pressed against your cheek you were filled with warmth. Your face was burning a deep shade of scarlet despite his ice-cold skin.
You were in complete shock, your arms hovered around him, unmoving and unsure. Your frown deepened in his chest before you gave in to the light, swirling feeling. Your arms flew around him, holding Paul to you like he would disappear, like he would turn to dust in your grasp. Honestly, you thought he might. That he might disappear on the horizon in a blur of light turning to darkness. Pulling away for just a moment you looked up at him. Paul’s face was scrunched and his neck was angled down to curl next to you. You studied his features for a moment, you hadn’t expected any chance, seeing his immortality would prevent any aging. He was just as boyish and just as beautiful as ever, as the day you met him.
Bringing a hand up to his face, you cupped his jaw and ran your thumb across his cheek. You couldn’t stop yourself before you opened your mouth, “You’re so beautiful, Paul.”
When he opened his eyes, in the deep cerulean hues, it was like no time had passed at all. Like you both hadn’t walked away from each other.
He smiled, a true playful grin that was true to himself. “Pretty baby, where have you been my whole life,” he sighed. It was something he had often whispered to you.
It was like a different ending to the story you had written in your mind over one thousand times, like that night he didn’t leave you in the sand, that you didn’t leave him.
You knew the rest of the boys were coming soon, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Paul was here, with you, and you were home at last.
Paul wrapped his arms around you again, hoisting you up. You took a quick, shocked, breath in and wrapped your arms around his shoulders and neck for support. It had been a long time since you were a victim to his spontaneity. As you looked deeper into his face, you began to crack. Tears were building up, threatening to spill over. “Paul,” you started once more.
He looked over to you in an instant, his eyes scanning you over as he had done a million times before. “Put me down, Paul. Please.” You goaded gently.
A flash of confusion crossed his features, yet nevertheless, he set you down. With a sharp inhale, you fiddled with the lapels of his archaic coat. It was the same as the last time you saw it, adorned with tassels and bangles. His eyes were wide, looking at you. He was taking you in like you weren’t real, that you were just in his imagination.
“We have to talk about what happened.” you manage to squeak out. Even if it was the last thing you wanted to discuss, it was at the forefront of your mind after the initial shock of having Paul on you once more. He shook his head before he spoke.
“Not now, babe. Let’s just– fuck,” He paused, running thick digits through his wild mane. You noticed a glistening around his wrists, it was the bracelet. Still there, like it had never been taken off. At that moment the weight of your necklace burrowed into your clavicle. “We can talk about this later, just let me have you for just a minute more, please.” He spoke softly, nearly mumbling. Who were you to deny such a request?
“Okay, Paul. Yea, we can, we can do that.” You weren’t sure if you were convincing him or yourself.
Soon, you were on the back of his bike once more, following his brothers back to Hudson’s Bluff. You weren’t entirely aware of how he had convinced you to go back with him, but the empty feeling of what was your grandfather’s house was cold, it didn’t feel like home anymore. You suppose that was why, at least the sunken resort would be warm, and lively. How ironic was it that the most comforted and alive you had ever felt was due to an undead vampire?
Past the gaudy and weathered danger signs, you’d finally made it back. Paul helped you down the rocky climb to their safe haven wordlessly. There were a little more trinkets here and there, but for the most part nothing was different. Santa Carla was like a time capsule. Jim Morrison’s dark, painted features looked down at you, as you made it past the fountain and up to an alcove that was Paul’s personal nest. The old mattress was haphazardly put atop some wooden palettes, a mix of blankets and other various cloth was piled on the top, as well as a plethora of carnival plushies that Paul had won throughout the years. A boombox was in its home in the corner, and various rocks and crystals were strewn about. A guitar he had stolen sat near the rest of his tapes, as well as some letters. Some of these things were from his life, from before he was turned. It wasn’t something Paul was very open about, one of the only things in fact. Due to this he rarely spent much time actually sleeping in the nest. It wasn’t like it was used frequently, Paul preferred to sleep with his brothers after a run in with some vampire hunters that almost left Marko dead.
However, when you started to see each other, Paul liked to be alone with you. Some of your belongings were still here, surrounding you. The smell of his age-old hair product and stale cologne permeated the room, it filled your senses.
Despite how familiar you were with your surroundings, you felt out of place. Instead of falling into the cool fabric of his make-shift bed, you stood in the middle of his room. From an outward perspective you looked entirely awkward, like you had no idea how to proceed. That assumption would be correct, anyway.
Paul stood there, behind you. Leaning up against the mouth of the conclave entrance to his nest, he took you in once more. He couldn’t see your face from this angle, but so far he was satisfied dragging his eyes across the dip of your shoulder and the way your hips dip into your thigh. The expanse of the cloth covering you dug a little in some areas and Paul was salivating at the fact that he could smell you. The slight honeyed lavender, a bit soapy and milky, made his head reel. You were real, and in front of him now for the first time in years. Paul was undeniably thrilled.
It was when he shifted slightly, that you were aware he was directly behind you. Your head snapped around with your hair following suit, falling over your shoulder. He sat rim-rod straight and then he was on you.
His hands wrapped around the upper part of your arm and his boyish face was directly in front of yours. You could smell the minty aroma from his breath as it fanned across your face, you could see the way his light-blonde eyelashes fell over those gorgeous baby blue eyes, casting a shadow over them. Paul had his playful antics dialed up to an eleven, but it was from a genuine place in his unbeating heart.
You both stood there for a while, the cool of a breeze shot through the cave, and the iciness of his skin didn’t help the gooseflesh beginning to rise on your arms. At first, it crossed your mind that Paul would be the one to break the silence, he usually is. Yet, after the prolonged silence and the way that Paul seemed to cover you in this moment, you knew you had to be the first to speak up.
He could feel the sharp breath you took in, could smell the nervousness dripping off of you. “Paul, you know I’m–”
In a flash, his mouth was on yours. His taste was metallic and slightly minty, and even though you didn’t want to make it awkward, your eyes were wide open in shock. In hindsight, it wasn’t all that shocking that Paul would try to use his charm to dissipate the awkward tension permating his nest. It was something he often fell back on, much to your chagrin. He was your first, and only, sort-of-boyfriend-ish-thing and to be quite frank you had never gone as far as he had. It's not like you didn’t want to sleep with him, but you did want to wait, no matter how hard that proved to be with you and Paul.
Communication to you was important, these conversations were necessary. You had always known that with Paul, who unlike you, was an open book. He could pry whatever he wanted from your brain, but he wanted until you had shared it with him first.
Telling him of your flaws and insecurities was something you dreaded, but sharing with Paul was easy. He was always eager, and while he loved to talk in his boisterous manner, to jest and howl, he was an incredible listener.
You broke the kiss, pulling away no matter how much your brain screamed at you to stay as close to Paul as possible, to be intertwined with him. Your hand presses against his chest, the feeling under your palms tickled and grounded you in the moment.
“I’m serious, Paul. We can’t act like nothing happened, like I haven’t been gone for as long as I have been.” Your brows furrowed and you bit your lip. His eyes were once again trained on you, watching your every moment like a hawk. Your hand almost dropped, but he took both of his palms and pressed your hand deeper into his chest, keeping it there.
“We don’t have too, baby.” His voice was feather-light, yet his drawl of “bay bee” brought a flicker of a smile across your face.`
“Yea, I think we do,” As you began, you led him to the edge of his bed, and beckoned him to sit with you. “We really do.”
You began with trepidation, the ride over here was wonderful, being around Paul was wonderful, and you hated to ruin such a picturesque moment, but both you and Paul knew it was needed. “I’m sorry for leaving Paul, and I’m sorry for not telling you about it.”
“I know.” he replied, his voice stronger, more earnest than it had been just moments earlier. “I know, sweet baby. You know I never meant anythin’ about keeping away from you right? I was just angry, really angry. Not as angry as Marko gets but I just– I can’t trust any of it y’know baby? I waited for you in case you came back, I felt it when you came back, I didn’t mean nothin’ I swear,” This was closer to the Paul that you had known, talking at one-thousand miles an hour, saying every thought.
“I felt you too, back in the new-age shop. I know you didn’t mean it Paul, I hope you know I could never hate you.” His hair moved as he nodded, earnestly.
“I felt you too,” he gulped down, “and at the beach, and the boardwalk,”
“I couldn’t stay, Paul. I can now though.” The stars in his eyes shone in a fleeting moment.
“I’ve been thinking of you since the day I left.” His head fell into the junction of your shoulder, and you could feel the course, product-ladden, strands shift as he nodded into you. Your hands found their way up to his hair, running your hands through the tangled and scratching lightly at his scalp.
He mumbled into your skin, “Smell the same, like honey and lavender,” he took a deep breath in and nuzzled closer. “Now you ain’t gotta leave baby, won’t let you.” The way he spoke was something that comforted you, his tone and inclination was boyish and silly and you loved every moment of it.
You debated for a moment, if you wanted to share the news of your inheritance, but now you were both mushy and vulnerable, it was just as good a time as any. “Y’know I have my grandfather’s house now. He passed a year ago, I don’t know if you knew.”, You shrugged.
He sat back up, “Naw, baby, I didn’t know.” He chewed on his lip, he struggled with the right words to say, but at least he was trying. “‘M sorry, knew you loved him.” He tucked you under his arm and lightly rubbed your shoulder.
“Yea,” you breathed out. “I’ll be here for him and you, gorgeous boy.” You ran your fingers over your necklace, before fiddling with his matching bracelet. “I’m not going anywhere anymore. I did what I needed too in life, I think. There’s only a few things left and then I think I’m ready, for the most part.” I mean, you didn’t want to die a virgin, but that would be a conversation for later. Now, you would focus on getting Paul and the rest of the boys to accept you as one of them.
His visage twisted a little, confused.
“There’s a way I can be here forever, if David allows,” you weren’t sure what was rushing through your mind, or how it was spilling from your lips. That was just the effect that being reunited with Paul had on you.
Before you had left Paul had made many offers to make you like him, to drink from that gaudy, gem encrusted bottle filled with David’s blood. Paul was sure you’d make it through initiation, he was sure your souls were bound for eternity. It was a sentiment he repeated frequently, “Oh pretty baby, where have you been all my life.” he would sigh out.
You always laughed, pecking him next to his lips before returning to whatever you were doing. Now, it seems to clear that he wasn’t joking. That he was sure you’d been made to fit in his soul, to live in the gaping maw of his affections forever. It never sounded like a bad idea, but when it was first proposed when you were younger, you still had things that you wanted to experience, to learn from the world. It’s not like becoming a vampire would stop this process altogether but it would make it a hell of a lot more difficult.
Honestly, you didn’t know how Paul wasn’t the one jumping to the idea, or how he was so accepting of you now. Though, you suppose, Paul was just as new to this notion as you were. You were just desperate to put the past behind you, to make a future with Paul.
“Are, fuck, are you sure?”, he scanned for any look of hesitance in your face, and when he couldn’t find it he laughed in disbelief.
You swore you saw stars in his eyes as he continued, “I mean fuck what David thinks baby, I can think of one-thousand and one ways I want to spent eternity.” Paul had turned the smugness up by one hundred and he flashed his award-winning smile at you.
He was on you again, this time it was much more feverish as he peppered kisses across your face. As you smiled up at him he paused, “Oh pretty baby, where have you been all my life?”
You laughed, returned a kiss to his cheek, and said, “I’m right here, Paul.”
This was the most hyper he’d been all night, and you knew that Paul was yours once more, that there was no room for question.
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