Between the Perennial Blooms || Paul Lahote

Thirty One | Wisteria

"look: this,
the exit wound you healed
by telling me it was a place
for the cosmos to enter
and make me whole again.
this, the castles we built in our heads
for each other."
—a.c. | how to be whole again

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Song Recommendation:
A Heavy Crown by Sam Airey

• • •

It felt like she had been crying forever.

What started out as a good day had just as quickly turned to one of sorrow, and at the rate things were going, Bailey was already exhausted from the change in tune. Of course, she had no one to blame but herself for the events that led her to where she was now: curled up in the smallest ball possible against Paul's chest as he rocked her slowly back and forth like a child. The air between them was solemn — filled with the heavy weight of the many words shared just moments before and the many others left unsaid. Long since had her tears dried against her cheeks and despite her sobs having reduced to naught but the occasional sniffle or shaky sigh, neither one of them were of mind to move a muscle. They were content where they were — not an inch of skin left untouched. The connection soothed them, mollified their aching parts and dulled the sting of their reciprocated hurt. For the first time in as long as either one of them could remember, they felt truly at ease.

"You're shivering," Paul murmured into the lethargic silence that encompassed them, effectively breaking it with the deep grumble of his voice. His arms squeezed her small body tighter against him and he stood. "Wanna go back to mine?" He asked her shyly — appearing demure for what was quite possibly the very first time in his life as she looked up at him with those wide, glossy, cerulean eyes of hers. "I can run you a bath," he tried to persuade, unknowing of the sheer desperation that glinted in his dark mahogany orbs. "Maybe watch a movie or two afterward..." His words trailed off as she made no move to agree. "...Please?"

For a moment, Bailey almost gave in to the temptation to say no if only to soothe the part of her that begged not to encounter another heartbreak. Her tongue — usually held so tight — proved almost no match for the exhaustion that plagued her after the events of the day, and though a part of her longed for nothing more than to curl up in the comfort of her own bed, she knew she would find no greater comfort than of that found in Paul's arms. So instead of letting her tongue run loose like she so easily could, she bit down into the flesh of her bottom lip and nodded. "Y-Yeah," she croaked, throat parched from the strain of producing her endless supply of tears and in desperate need of a glass of water as she all but whispered back. "That sounds nice."

Then as he walked them through the woods leading to his home with her small body tucked safely against his chest, she texted Bella not to worry or wait up, and asked Charlie to come fetch her sometime in the morning.

---

Few words were exchanged between them as Paul busied himself with filling the tub. From Bailey's perch on the bathroom counter, she watched as he poured two capfuls of his evergreen shampoo in line with the running tap in an attempt to form makeshift bubbles. It failed in truly working as the outcome was more of a sudsy layer of soap floating atop the surface of the water; however, the sentiment was sweet enough that it didn't matter. Candles were lit and the lights turned off, and though the ambient atmosphere was mostly quiet, the faint crackling of the logs in the fireplace burning down the hall still sounded through the bottom crack in the doorframe.

"Water's ready," Paul murmured, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb the peaceful mood surrounding them as he turned the knob on the faucet off and stood from his crouched position at the edge. He turned to face Bailey and smiled small. "Are you?"