#paul:thread

[rusticgrace]

          Paul pulled in a deep breath through his nose as his gaze scanned the room, a subtle crease between his eyebrows making him look more pensive than usual. He was glad his mother had enjoyed herself, sure. But he didn’t see why that meant they had to make small talk with the ensemble. Her clutch in one hand, he moved it behind his back so he could wrap his opposite hand around his wrist and settle. He only had to humor her a while longer.

[rusticgrace]

          Paul inhaled a slow, deep breath through his nose as he closed his eyes and sunk a little deeper into the couch. It had been a long day, but weren’t they all, and he was finally getting a moment’s peace.

[rusticgrace]

          Paul swallowed hard and felt pain radiate through his jaw. He was... well, he was a little more fucked up than usual. Left eye swollen shut, split skin over his cheek and eyebrow so that blood ran down the side of his face. Two busted lips... That wasn’t even mentioning the bruised or broken ribs he surely had. Make-up was not going to cover this. He’d have to call in sick. He never called in sick. His only consolation was that he’d done as much damage as he had taken. With a grimace he pulled himself slowly off the bench and slung a dufflebag over his shoulder. First things first, he needed to get home. Maybe then he could call a physician.

[rusticgrace]

          It was another bad night, at least for his face. Paul grunted softly as he dropped onto the bench. At least he hadn’t been the only one taking punches... but now that his adrenaline had died the pain was settling in. Carefully, slowly, he started to remove the tape around his wrists. If he was lucky, the swelling would go down by morning. If not, he’d have to work from home. Honestly, it wasn’t a bad idea even if it did.