Two Lost Souls • Paul Lahote

15. History project

ELIZABETH POV

It was the end of my second Monday and, as usual, Paul was stood by his car waiting to drive me home. As soon as our eyes met, a smile appeared on my face, I didn't even have to try and fake one. Nothing had been awkward after our date, in fact, the only change is that I would feel his stare more often and he would wait for me after class and walk me to class if his was nearby as well as driving me to and from school. It was like having a personal chauffeur.

Paul opened my door for me, forever a grinning gentleman, then got in himself.

"Are you free now?"-Liz

I could see the tiniest blush appear on his tanned face, "yeah, why?"

"We need to have our project done by Wednesday and it's Monday so I thought you could come round now if you were free."

"Alright, sure." He tried to sound casual but I could see him trying to suppress a smile.

PAUL POV

As I drove Lizzie, and myself, to her house she spoke about the project though I have to admit I was only half listening. My mind was trying to comprehend the fact that she had just invited me to her house.

I've never been inside before. Where will we study? Living room? Her room? Oh no. What if we study in her room. I won't be able to stop myself blushing if I see where she sleeps and dresses, where she draws and paints. Her natural aroma would be even stronger making the butterflies in my stomach flutter faster, the urge to kiss her even stronger.

Once we arrived, we both got out of the car and headed into the house.

"You want a tour?"

I nodded, unable to trust my voice right now as I was hit by the 'family vibe' of the house. It was strange to me. This house (consisting of Lizzie, her aunt and uncle) had more of a homely feeling than my house ever has. I never liked being at my house. I don't even call it home. It doesn't feel like home. My mum was out of the picture wherever she is and whatever she does, she's not here so I don't care. And my dad, well he may as well be gone. He never talks to me with love, care or respect. He is either telling me off (either shouting or hitting me) or he is telling me I'm not good enough or he is just distant. Not talking or even looking at me. I prefer to be ignored than being constantly put down and being punished for failing classes.

That's why he liked going out with Lizzie, she felt like home. She was safe and cared for him and would never hurt him. She would never shout at him for failing a test or having incomplete homework. She would never hit him or hurt him. She was different to what he was used to.

The tour was almost over, I took specific note to where the bathroom was not knowing how long this was going to take. What I do know is that I'm going to make this last all evening if I can, if it means staying here with Lizzie instead of going back to my house or on patrol.

Then she showed me her room.

It was on the left side of the hall. It had a bathroom attached.

It was quite large. The walls were a cream/beige, matching the rest of the house, fairly lights crossing the ceiling, patterned, cream curtains, a tree decoration on one wall (along with a plain pin board which only had a few pictures on), a dream-catcher (which he recognised as Jacobs handiwork, he like making bracelets and dream catchers in his spare time) and a desk and mirror opposite the small double bed. There was a soft, white rug on the wooden floor, a hanging chair in the corner of the room (which a few schoolbooks had been discarded onto) and a double wardrobe. There was a small TV on the wall opposite her bed, near her desk. It looked like it had been put up recently.

Her room had a comfortable, safe feeling about it. I couldn't help but think back to the memories I saw when I first imprinted on Elizabeth. I saw us, cuddled up on her double bed, watching TV together enjoying each other's company. I saw her holding me on the bed as I cried? I don't cry. Especially not in front of other people.

I saw a couple of drawings and paintings scattered on her messily made bed and a few reading books too.

Once I had seen the house, we end downstairs to the kitchen and got some water and crisp to keep us going. We set up in the living room and started our project. We had to make a poster so Lizzie started the title and would do the drawings at the end as I looked for information in our books and on the laptop, jotting down notes when I found something interesting.

Every now and then we would take a break and talk about non history related things like favourite colours. She said blue like the ocean but when she asked me I was unsure. I've never really had a favourite colour until I looked at her, her emerald green eyes once again catching my attention. Right then I knew. My favourite colour was emerald green.

AN: double upload 😮