Fangs That Kill - (Lost boys imagines book 3)

Paul drabble - Breakup - Angst

A/N - In which the relationship takes the natural course and when reality is finally brought up, Paul doesn't take it too well. ❤❤❤

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“I think we should break up.” The heavy words had finally been uttered leading to a chase of sorts. When you try to walk away, he followed you. After all the prodding beforehand it had to come out at some time. You were feeling off and the time it took you to admit to yourself made it all the harder to accept the affection he gave. It felt wrong. 

“Please don't say that baby. Please I'm fucking begging you.” Paul cries out, his hand reaches out to grab onto yours. The tears from the very difficult and frankly very stressful talk showed in your glassy eyes, not yet running out. Why did breakups have to be so hard? Love was a fickle thing, easy to fall into and just as easy to fall out of.

Your lip trembles the more he pleads.

Still, you care for him despite the relationship taking it’s natural course.

“Baby please, please tell me this is a joke! I can't live without you.”

Paul had never been like this before. Desperate and serious, serious as the day vampirism was forced upon him. You can't bare to look at him, let alone hear him out. It hurt, like a knife shoved straight into your heart. It was over you said, repeating the mantra over in your head, the strength to get through this.

“P-Paul. Please don't do this.” You try to say, despite the crack in your words.

People are looking.

Paul is beyond caring but you did. Heart thumps faster by the second and you make out the small crowd gathering, stopping and looking.

“Is it me?” Paul asks, refusing to let go.

“No, not you Paul. Please, I- I still care for you but-"

“But what baby, did someone say something to you?” Paul asks, eyes burning, searching you for answers that don't exist.

“No! No.” You choked and Paul's other hand cups your wet cheek with his other, turning your face gently to his as he stands at full height. Paul's eyes are glassy and slightly red.

“It's just how I feel.” You say quietly, sniffing as your head ducks down. You feel bad, terrible.

“Oh no- baby.” Paul tries to change your mind but your shaking form is enough confirmation to let him know. His heart breaks and ironically right outside the second thing he loved after you, the music store.

“Is this it?” He asks, the finality seeping in.

You can't respond.

Paul lets you go, watching as you walk fast from the scene. When you were out of eyeshot he wandered down to the beach and for the second time tonight, indulged on some unlucky party goers. Not even a clean feed either from the mess the boys found him in. Blood, carnage and garbage music as he stares up at the sky.