Petrichor ~ P.L.

Chapter Twenty-Four

After pulling on one of Paul's shirts and pair of basketball shorts under the cover of the porch, I found myself dripping wet and coated in mud in Pauls living room. Paul had laughed at me as I walked in, not that he was faring much better. Annoyingly, he was still...objectively attractive...even coated in pretty much anything the forest floor had to offer.

"So..." Paul trailed, leaning back on his foot and crossing his arms, "You were worried about me, huh?"

I glared at his smug tone, "I-no."

He slowly walked towards me, "You never could lie to me, could you?"

Sighing in defeat, I rolled my eyes, "Fine! I was worried, happy?"

Paul stopped in front of me and grinned ear to ear, "Extremely."

I looked upwards to defiantly meet his eyes. His warm brown eyes were slightly crinkled at the edges as he genuinely smiled at me. His flushed lips pulled back, not as a smirk or sarcastic grin, but a genuine smile. I couldn't remember the last time I had seen that smile. A year? Two? Too long ago. I hadn't realized how much I missed it.

For a moment I could almost imagine us as carefree twelve-year-olds again, who loved to play in the rain and then would get yelled at for dripping all over the living room carpet. Those twelve-year-olds knew nothing but each other's friendship, not scarred by the shattering of trust or loss.

My glare softened as I gazed into the rare softness his eyes held as if my confession that there was still even a chanced that I still cared for him a little, cracked open the locked door that I used to hold the key to.

His smile dipped as silence passed between us, concern glancing over his eyes, "What is it?"

Blinking, I stepped back from him, "Nothing-" My voice cracked, "Nothing. I'm um-" I gestured behind him, "I'm going to go shower."

He nodded and stepped out of my way, confusion flashing briefly across his face, "Uh yeah, the uh towels um..."

I nodded awkwardly as he spoke, "Uh yeah, bottom cupboard...I remember."

He shuffled and nodded again, running a hand through his hair as I turned and walked around the corner.

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A few hours later, Paul and I both sat on the couch after ordering some pizza, both devouring our fair shares.  As in, me one large, and Paul three. Wolves and their appetites I swear.

We sat at opposite ends of the semi-worn couch, silently watching Bachelor in Paradise again.

One of the men had just kissed his third girl in one day, unbeknownst to him, girls one and two were watching around the corner.

Paul frowned, "Where do they find these people?"

I scoffed, "Don't act like you wouldn't do the exact same thing."

He frowned, "No I wouldn't."

"Yeah, uh hu."

Paul turned to me, "Do you actually think I would do something like that?"

I shrugged, still facing the TV, "Aren't you like, a huge whore?"

Paul blanked at me, shocked at my accusation, "Wha-"

I finally turned towards him, "I mean, last time I was here you weren't exactly...innocent."

Silence passed between us, Paul sat back and looked back to the TV, "I'm not like that anymore." He muttered. 

I laughed, "Oh yeah? Since when?"  I found it hard to believe that he had actually given up his player ways.  A part of me hoped that he hadn't. Its a lot easier not to fall for someone who sleeps around, who has so many notches on his bedpost its barely standing. For myself, at least.