𝑻𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑯𝑶𝑵𝑬𝒀, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒔

✵ 3:00 𝑨𝑴 / 𝑷𝑨𝑼𝑳

3:00 am
༊
'70

him slipping through the bedroom door was what woke you. it was a peaceful awakening, though. one that only caressed you out of your drowsy repose. his bags and coat and shoes were already discarded downstairs. he recalled them seeming to fall from him one by one as he heaved through the quiet home to your darkened room. your heavy eyes slipped open slowly and the palm of your hand felt around on the empty bed. you had fallen asleep in your nightgown, awaiting above the covers for him.

"paul?" you called through a hushed voice, rubbing past the lingering sleep that still clouded the view of your love.

"yeah, go back to sleep."

"no- no," you protested softly, "i want to hear about your day..."

he saw the heavenly calling of your blanketed arms as they reached out for him to take solace in. he couldn't disagree with them. they were stubborn and conditioning; the warmest pair of arms he ever did see.

he crawled into bed and collapsed with the exhaustion of a thousand men, still sporting his spunky day clothes that always seemed to dull by the end of the week. they fell loose on him now as you embraced the supple curves of his round body, nose pressing to his grizzly cheek. he kissed you and it held every ounce of strength he was trying to pull together. for himself, for you, for them.

"they're forming some sort of alliance against me, i don't know..."

you shushed him and pulled back enough to get a look at him. those black eyes flickered open and pierced the darkness confined around you.

"i doubt that." you brushed back loose strands of thick locks lingering around his face and let your fingers grace his pale skin. there was still a cold tinge of the wintery breeze that carried on wistfully outside— it wouldn't get him this time, though it continued to parole the black streets waiting for a ruthless brawl. you cooed once he fell victim to the persistence of his drooping eyes and a lazy hum came from his tired lips.

"here, let me help you get undressed," you said and sat up to slip off his woolen sweater vest. his body responded limply, lifting and lowering his arms when necessary as his eyes blinked slowly at you and submitted to your carefulness. each button slipped through its hole with a snap as you pricked and fiddled at each one with the tip of your thumbnail, watching the greying collared shirt fall undone along your trail.

his trousers came off quickly and you contorted yourself against the bed to release his feet from the safety of his knitted black socks. it was a small gesture, yet it allowed for the morning quarrels, afternoon slip-ups, and evening rewrites to peel from him with an enfeebled ease.

"rest, baby," is what you whispered to him when he finally took you in his arms again like a large teddy bear all worn and tattered from too much love, too much undivided concern. he'd never believe in it, though. there was no such thing as too much.

you kissed his forehead and the weighty lids of his eyes and his bright cheeks. he seemed already fast asleep by the time you reached his lips, a weak pucker pressing back against you. it felt good to have your arms wrapped around him, to ensure his safety in your gentle bed. touching your cheek to his, you were relieved to be able to close your eyes again.

"you're doing your best... the best you can."