A/N:
Hey guys! So around the time of last year I was bored and I decided to write this little story (it's actually not that little haha). Anyways, I was scrolling through my documents today and found this. This is the first story I have ever written and it is solely for entertainment, obviously none of it is true and it is all fiction. I'm pretty new to all of this, and I was never going to post this, however, I decided to just go ahead and do it.
Just a quick warning-there is some swear words and 2 f-bombs. Also, this is all from the perspective of Nina.
Anyways, I hope you enjoy this! Thank you for taking the time to read this little author's note and my story. If this in anyway offends you or something, I am truly sorry! Again, it was written for entertainment and is far from reality. Let me know if you like this and I may consider writing something else! Thanks and enjoy!
I drank the last of my martini, letting the liquid sluggishly slide down my throat, and sensed a pair of leaf green eyes on me. I looked over to see Paul with a sloppy grin plastered on his face, a glass of empty whiskey in his hands. Getting drunk on a Wednesday night had not been part of my plan until Paul showed up with alcohol and the 5th season of Law and Order SVU. I knew immediately why Paul was at my door, begging for me to get hammered with him. He had recently decided to take a break with Phoebe, and he thought by drinking, he could numb the reality of his crumbling relationship. So when he arrived at my house, I just couldn't say no to his pouty face and puppy dog eyes. It wasn't like I was doing anything exciting except for possibly watching a random chick flick with a bucket of Cookie Dough wrapped up in my arms. So, I let Paul in and we played the famous Law and Order SVU drinking game. Let's just say I lost count of how many drinks I've had and tomorrow morning, I'm going to dread the massive hangover.
I lay on my white leather couch; my legs sprawled across Paul's laps, as I felt another stabbing pain hit my head. Ugh…why did I even decide to drink anyways?
"Paul," I start, "We should go get some coffee. Preferably Starbucks."
I hear him chuckle. "You sure do love your Iced Vanilla Macchiatos."
"Hey, you are obsessed with Starbucks too!"
"I am not," he says with a defending tone and turns to look at me.
"I'll take some black coffee, 2 sugars please, just like Sherlock Holmes." I impersonate him, making my voice go lower. I then smirk at him and he eyes me with annoyance, grabbing a magazine on the table and smacking my feet with it.
"Rude," I say with a giggle. I lift my head with a smile to see Paul shut off the TV and unfold the magazine titled "Seventeen" that he rolled up to hit me with. He looks at me confused and says, "Having a midlife crisis are we?"
I grab for a plush white pillow to my right and chuck it at his face. Instead, it hits him in the shoulder and he pouts at me. I stick my tongue out at him and grin mischievously. Through laughter he says, "I was just kidding Neens, you look more beautiful than all of the girls in this magazine."
"Nice save, asshole." My smile grows bigger and my stomach starts to flip. I twirl my hair with my finger nervously. Gosh, I need to stop doing that, but his compliments are so sweet and he looks so cute drunk and…
My thoughts are suddenly interrupted by Paul's voice, which is an octave higher than usual, saying, "Take this all new quiz to spice up a sleepover with your best friends!" He has the magazine wide open and is pointing to a section of it. He turns to me excitedly and says again in his "girl voice", "OMG, we should totes take this quiz Nina because we are like besties and are having a sleepover soooo yeah let's do it!"
I giggle and say, "Fine Wesley, what's the first question?"
"Alright, ready? Zac Efron, Leonardo DiCaprio, Ryan Gosling, or Taylor Lautner?" He pauses, and looks confused. "Wait! Why isn't my name on this list? This is some bullshit right here," Paul says with anger, staring at the question with irritated eyes.
"You should definitely call up the makers of the magazine and complain," I say, trying hard not to laugh.
"Oh, you know what? I know why I'm not on the list. If they put me on it, this question would be so easy to answer. Obviously everybody would choose me. There would be no debate and it wouldn't be as fun. That's probably why." He turns to me while saying this, a smug smile on his face.
"I would go with Zac Efron." I shrug my shoulders and see him looking at me with a shocked expression.
"You would choose Zac over me?" He says this with disbelief, like I'm choosing vegetables over Nutella.
"Yeah, his eyes are soooo blue and his body…ugh!" I close my eyes to add more effect and bite my lip seductively.
"Stop lying to yourself Dobrev."
"I never lie," I exclaim while shaking my head.
He looks at me with disappointment and I cave and say, "I would always choose you Paul, don't worry."
He smiles at me, showing his white teeth. "You're an awful liar. I would probably go with DiCaprio, the man is a phenomenal actor and deserves an Oscar. Of course this would only be my choice if I wasn't on the list."
"He does deserve an Oscar. And you are so drunk right now."
"How can you tell?"
"You get really cocky when you're drunk. Plus, you are never cocky when you are sober." I smile at him. I'm actually enjoying his arrogance. It's sexy and kind of turns me on.
Paul grins. "Alright, ready for the next question."
I nod and he says, "Do you have a crush on anyone right now?"
I smile to myself as I have had a major crush on the man sitting on my couch for four years now. Sure the feeling faded away when I was with Ian, but it was always still there. It's not even a crush anymore…I definitely love him. Unfortunately, I know that I can't be with him and it sucks. Paul thinks of me as a little sister. Also, I can't jeopardize our friendship…he means too much to me. Losing him would kill me; I would lose a best friend and basically the only guy I really care about. If I confessed my feelings to him, it would make everything awkward between us. But, a girl can still dream, right?
He interrupts my thoughts by saying, "Well I'm fresh out of a relationship, so I can't really answer this question."
"There's this one guy…" I start, "He doesn't know I like him though. I don't know when I fell for him, but I love everything about him. He's not like all the others, he's unique, and I think…I think that's what I love most about him. He's genuine, humble, funny, amazingly talented and kind. Honestly, when I'm around him, I feel like I can just be myself. Like he won't judge me, you know? He's sure as hell not perfect…but in my eyes he is pretty damn close. When I look into his eyes, I see everything that I could ever need. I see a future with him…I see myself settling down. I just wish I knew if he thinks of me all the time because he's always on my mind." I shock myself with what I say, finally letting all of my feelings out in the open, even though they are far from specific. The atmosphere in the room changes…it goes from playful to serious after my confession.
"Wow," Paul says and looks away quickly. However, I saw his face before and it…it looked…jealous? I'm probably just seeing things though. He clears his throat and looks at me again. This time, I can't read his expression. "That was intense Neens."
I laugh awkwardly and change the subject quickly. "Let's move on to the next question, Mr. Wesley."
"Okay. Have you kissed a guy in the last week? If so, spill the deets!"
He smirks at me because he knows the answer already. We have been shooting some make out scenes with Katherine and Stefan for the show and I don't really want to talk about them. I look away, hoping that he will just shut up and go to the next question. But, of course, he doesn't.
"So Dobrev, you want to tell me about how you were being extra horny with Stefan the other day?" Paul grins as he says this and lifts up his shirt so I can see his abs. I try not to stare but my brain can barely function when he does stuff like that.
I may have slipped my tongue in his mouth during the kiss…I know I wasn't supposed to…I'm not sure why I did it. My face is slowly turning red and his smile gets cockier.
"What's the matter, cat got your tongue?" He puts emphasis on the word "tongue" while simultaneously winking at me.
If he keeps doing that I might just jump him right now. Fortunately, I compose myself and groan in frustration. "It was in the heat of the moment!"
"Whatever helps you sleep at night." He's about to say something else but I interrupt him by throwing another pillow in his direction. This time, the pillow smacks him in the face and he looks at me with revenge in his eyes.
"Bad idea Dobrev!" Before I know it, I'm being attacked by his hands and I can barely breathe. Partly because I'm laughing my ass off and partly because he's tickling me everywhere. I hear him start to laugh too, and my smile grows as I laugh harder.
"Okay, okay, enough," I barely get out and he finally stops. Suddenly, I straddle him and pin his arms down on the couch. "My turn," I say with a devious grin on my face." I begin to tickle him and another round of laughter is heard from the both of us. A couple of minutes later, I stop and I can sense the mood change. I'm still straddling his hips, my hands flat on his rock hard chest. I stare into his green eyes, which turned from ecstatic to lustful in a matter of seconds.
"You know," he says, with his voice low and heavy, "We could always practice those kissing scenes so none of us are surprised by what the other person does."
"That's a pretty good idea," I whisper back. "When do you want to practice them?"
"How about now?" He says this and leans in, locking our lips together in a sensual kiss. After a few minutes, the kiss heats up and turns into passionate, fiery kisses. Kisses that will make you shiver even though it's not cold outside. Kisses that will have the tiny hairs on your arm stand straight up like a soldier. It's like we are deprived of water in a desert, hungry for each other, our bodies aching to be fed. Before I know it, we are in my bedroom, and there's no turning back now.
I wake up the next morning with strong arms around me, and surprisingly regret nothing Paul and I did last night. It felt so right, and I feel so confused now because I know he probably regrets everything that happened. I have to get out of here; I have to go someplace where I can get my thoughts to slow down. It also doesn't help that my head is pounding from all that alcohol last night. I take some aspirin and quickly get dressed, and decide to go on a run to think things through.
I've been out for about thirty minutes now, when I suddenly feel his presence next to me, moving in the same rhythm as me. I look over and sure enough, it's him.
"You're not perfect," he says, and I look at him with confusion, and come to a stop.
"You make mistakes. You have flaws. But, honestly, in my eyes, all of those flaws make you who you are. To me, you are not just Nina Dobrev, a hotshot celebrity. You are the girl who I have known for 5 years now…you're my co-star and my best friend. Sometimes we fight, sometimes we laugh, and occasionally, we drink." He smirks at me as he says this. " I don't really know what I'm trying to say anymore," Paul says while scratching the back of his neck. "I just…I just love everything about you, okay? Your smile, your laugh, your sarcasm, your jokes, your mistakes, your flaws. I love it when you scrunch up your nose when you think something is weird. And when you steal my jacket because you're cold and then claim that you didn't steal it in the first place. I even love it when I see you in the morning on set, either dancing and singing to some stupid Black Eyed Peas song or looking like you might rip someone's head off if they even look at you. Nina, I…I…" I stare at Paul, shocked by his words but urging him to continue.
"I really care about you. Uh…" I can tell he's nervous as his foot bounces. I can hear him silently curse himself.
"Paul, I've hooked up with a lot of guys since my break-up with Ian…and I wake up always regretting it. Let's just forget everything that happened last night…okay? It's easier to go back to the way things were." Paul looks down as I say this, staring at the ground, trying to hide the disappointment in his eyes.
It's silent between us as my brain and heart World War III it out in my body, each battling each other, weighing the pros and cons about telling him how I really feel.
"Well, I guess I should go. I'll see you later." He turns slowly, walking away with heavy steps.
My brain applauds me for taking the easy route as my hearts cracks in two. I watch him walk away until he turns the corner, out of my sight. That was my chance and I just let it slip through my fingers. One day, I'm going to look back at this moment and I will regret not admitting my feelings for him. "Go after him," my heart chants.
But my feet stay put.
It's been a week and two days since Paul and I's last conversation, and I feel like total shit. Paul is avoiding me like the plague. He looks so sad these days, especially since his break-up with Phoebe is now official. I've been avoiding him too…I just…I really messed everything up.
It's a Friday night, and I have shot down all the plans that my friends have proposed, lying to them that I am sick. I can't wait until I get home. My plan is to curl up with my cat, maybe take a bubble bath, watch a few '80s movies, and make a dent in a bucket of Strawberry ice cream.
I'm walking to my car after a long day of shooting, when I suddenly notice a figure leaning on the trunk of my silver Audi. I know that figure anywhere. It's him.
He looks up at me; probably hearing my footsteps stop. We lock eyes. It's dark but I can see the fear and nervousness in his eyes.
"Hey," I say, my voice as low as a whisper.
"Hey." He pauses and waits until I get to him. Now we are standing face to face, and I see the uncertainty and the unshed tears in his eyes. The only thing that I am thinking about is how this pain that he is going through is all because of me…because I'm too scared to admit my feelings.
"Nina," he starts but I quickly cut him off.
"Hold on Paul, please let me just say something first." I take a deep breath, trying to make sense of my running thoughts. "You know how last week I was saying how I hooked up with a lot of guys after my break-up?"
He nods at me, edging me to go on. I sigh. This is it. Just say it. You can do it.
"Well," I start, casting my eyes down to look at my shoes. "Every single time, I regret sleeping with those guys in the morning, but when I woke up last week in your arms, I regretted nothing, and that…that really scares me."
"Why does it scare you?" I look up to see his curious eyes, hungry for an explanation.
"I honestly don't know. These past few months, I have really wanted to commit to someone and settle down. I still want to have fun, but not go around hooking up with guys anymore. So, I'm not scared of the commitment. I guess I'm scared of this feeling I have when I'm around you. I literally feel like I lose my entire being in you, but then again I can be my true weird self when I'm around you, and not be worried about being judged. Gosh that doesn't make any sense does it? I don't know how to describe it right," I pause and then continue on. "When I'm with you…it's just me and you, taking on the world together, living in the moment." I pause again and sigh with frustration. I am making no sense right now and I can't form the right words. "I just need to say it," I think to myself. I compose myself and say, "Okay, I'm rambling on and on…I'm just going to say it."
I look at him, turning my brain off so I can clear all the thoughts that are telling me not to admit what I'm about to admit, and go with what my heart keeps telling me to do.
"I fucking love you Paul…and I'm scared of love and everything associated with it. The last time I was in love with someone, it didn't work out well. I'm scared of rejection. I'm scared of being broken. I'm scared of ruining everything." I cover my face with my hands after I say this, and for a moment I wish to take back everything I just said. But then something changes…and I know what I did was right.
I remove my hands from my face and take a step towards him. "But, I don't care…because if I never told you, then the "what ifs" would haunt me forever."
There's silence between us…and then all my worries wash away once I see relief in his eyes. Paul reaches his hands out and soothingly rubs my arms up and down.
"Nina, Neens, Dobrev, Looch, Boss Lady," he chuckles. "I'm tired of running from us, and I want to try this out. I can't promise to you that we won't argue, but I can promise that I'll always be here for you. I would love to be the one to wake you up in the morning, the one to kiss you, the one to make you smile and laugh, and the one to hold you at night. I'm scared of love too, Nina. It's messy, and it sucks when it falls apart. But, if we never try, then we'll never know what could have been? Even when it ends up destroying us in the end and we vow to never fall in love again, we always get lulled back into breaking that vow. And why are we so stupid to do that? It's because that feeling we get when we are madly in love with someone is more addicting than any drug on this planet. And until we try new things and give them a chance, we'll never know what could have happened. I think that if we stand strong by each other and we are always there for one another, we will get through all of those scary things associated with love."
I take in his words, one by one, every noun, every verb, and every syllable. I piece them together like a puzzle. I'm so mesmerized by his little spiel that I almost don't hear the next part.
"Oh, and one more thing, I fucking love you too." He grins at me and I grin back. "So, Neens, what do you say? Do you want to give this a go?" He laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck with his right hand.
I look him in the eyes, which were waiting for my response and burst out laughing. I grab his face to bring down for a kiss.
After it, he smiles at me and says, "So, is that a yes? I can't really tell, I think I'm going to need another kiss to confirm it."
I giggle and playfully smack his chest, and then take off running. He yells after me and catches up quickly, turning me around and kissing me passionately. Who would have guessed that that stupid magazine would have turned out to help me so much? I told Candice and Kat that I wouldn't regret buying it!
Fin.
A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it!