KISS Imagines

Paul Stanley #10

"Paul . . ." your voice trailed off as you sat down next to him, touching his shoulder. "It's getting late. Come to bed."

"In a minute, Y/N. I just have to finish writing this song."

"That's what you said a few hours ago." You kissed his neck. "You've been focusing on that song for so long. Can't you just wait until tomorrow to finish it?"

"I can't," Paul said. "I'm almost finished. I need to come up with the last few lines."

"But Paul--"

"Y/N."

He was getting a little irritated, you realized. With a sigh, you kissed his cheek before getting up and walking back to your bedroom.

You don't know how long you slept. Maybe a couple of hours. But a loud crashing sound woke you up.

Two forty-five, the clock read. Rubbing your eyes, you got out of bed to see what was going on. It turned out that Paul was still in the living room, but he was covering his face with his hands. You frowned at the sight, taking an empty spot next to him. "Paul?"

He removed his hands, then looked at you. "You're still awake."

You shook your head. "No. A sound woke me up."

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I accidentally broke one of your vases."

You looked around but didn't find any evidence of a shattered vase. Paul must've cleaned it up the mess. But you knew which one he was referring to, for there was an empty spot on a nearby credenza where a vase used to be. "It's all right. I hated that vase anyway."

Paul sighed, making you gaze at him again. "What's wrong?"

"It's the song," he answered. "It's been bothering me all day. Now it's almost three in the morning and I still haven't completed it."

"It's not required to write a song in a day, is it?"

"No."

"Then don't stress over it so much, baby. I'm sure you'll be able to come up with the last few lines. But you don't have to do it right now." You kissed his cheek. "Do you hear what I'm saying?"

"I hear you, but Y/N, it's important for us to complete this album. We've been working so hard, and we need to get it ready for it to be released soon."

You squeezed his shoulder. "I know. I know, darling. But you should be taking breaks once in a awhile. You shouldn't be spending every hour worrying and stressing over a song or something that--"

"But I do, Y/N! I do!" Paul stood up, throwing his pen down onto the coffee table. He ran a hand through his hair, then let out a breath. "I'm sorry, Y/N. You're right. I should . . . we should . . . let's go to bed."

"Okay." You got up.

But Paul didn't leave the living room yet. Instead he just looked at your for a moment, his brown eyes meeting your (e/c) ones. "How did I get so lucky?"

A small smile appeared on your face. "You just did."

He chuckled. "Come on. Let's go."

"All right." 

However, while halfway to your shared bedroom, Paul surprised you by picking you up bridal style. You gasped at his action. "Paul!"

"Have I told you that I love you?" he asked while carrying you to your room.

"Plenty of times," you said. "But not recently."

"Well I do. So much." After entering the room, he placed you on the bed and later joined you. "I love you so, so much, Y/N. I love you."

You laughed, pulling the covers over you. "All right, I think we both know how much you love me, Paul."

"But I haven't finished yet."

"Yes you have."

"No. I haven't."

"Paul!"

"What?"

You snuggled up to him. "You have."

"I haven't."

"Paul, hush," you said.

Smiling, he wrapped an arm around you. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Mmm. Goodnight."