I slipped when I hit the paved road at the end of my driveway, falling down onto my side. My arm scraped against the pavement, blood pouring out of the shallow wound. I was hyperventilating when I felt two warm arms encircle around me, lifting me effortlessly from the ground.
…………………………..
My eyes drifted open to find myself cradled against Paul's chest, facing inward, as he walked back towards my house. The rain was still coming down hard, but no rain drops hit my body. Paul's shoulders were hunched over, protecting me from the cold water. I had stopped shivering, his body was so warm, too warm, and it made me sleepy. I heard his voice, but was unable to make out any words because the storm was so loud. He ran into the entrance, slamming the door behind him with this foot. Suddenly, his voice became clear, his words understood by my ears.
"Addison, you are going to be the death of me, you know that? What the hell were you thinking?!" He shuffled me over to the sofa, laying me gently on it, placing a soft pillow behind my head. He grabbed a blanket and threw it over my body. His hands rubbed up and down my arms, warming me with friction. I found his face, after blinking away the tears in my eyes, in complete panic.
"I'm sorry," I muttered pathetically.
"Baby, it's alright," He said breathlessly. I was thrilled as he used the term of endearment, but still set back. I cringed as his rough hand rubbed the cut on my arm and he winced as he pulled the blanket down off my shoulder. "Oh no, you're bleeding!" He was frantic, running towards the kitchen, opening the medicine cabinet he was in earlier for my anxiety pills. The way he was moving, he should be taking one of those at the moment. He came back to my side with paper towels and hydrogen peroxide.
"I can do that," I tried to sit up, my head spinning. Paul gently helped me so I was sitting upright, but kept his hand on the medicine.
"No, its fine, I got it," He rambled as he squirted the drug onto the paper towel and applied it to my wound. "Just relax." The peroxide stung a little, only when Paul first applied it. "You alright?" He asked, cupping my cheek with one hand while the other attended my arm.
"Yes," I told him. We stayed in silence as he finished cleaning up my arm, placing a band-aid over the cut. I watched closely as he was so careful with me, as if I was a soap bubble and could pop at any moment. I stayed sitting on the couch, and he was kneeling in front of me. He brought his lips down to my arm and kissed over the band-aid. My heart fluttered inside my chest.
"There you go," Paul sighed. "All better," Relief flashed over his expression and he let out a tamed smile.
"Paul?" I questioned.
"Yeah, Addy?" His eyes were uncertain.
"My shirt," I said, motioning towards the kitchen. His arms had me pinned to the couch.
"Oh!" He was startled and his body shot up. "I'll grab it."
He walked over to the kitchen, picking up my top from the floor. He handed it back to me moments later, as I quickly threw it over my head, pulling my arms through the holes. He took a seat next to me on the couch, placing his hand on my leg. I stared at him as he watched, pushing back a few pieces of hair that fell on my face behind my ear.
"My father," I sputtered out. He tilted his head, confused. "That's what happened to my legs."
"What do you mean?" His voice was filled with venom; his right hand trembled on my knee. His eyes were narrowed, almost closed, with a murderous expression.
"That's the reason I moved here," I explained. I was unable to grasp why I was telling him this, all I knew is that it felt right and he deserved to know the truth. "When my parents divorced, my father became an alcoholic. At first, it was always just yelling and screaming, but soon after, well, that's when his abusive side hit." Paul shuddered, looking away towards the window, not able to face me.
"I was abused for a few years before I had the guts to tell my mother." I paused. "I threatened my father before about going to her or the police, and that only provoked him. He beat me worse." Tears sprung in my eyes as the memories flashed through my head. "I fell down a lot, trying to run from him, that's where most of the scars on my legs came from. I'm not the most graceful person," Paul rose from his knees and walked towards the window, facing away from me. I stood up, and faced the back of him. "Most of the marks I got from my father were on my face and arms, but they've healed. I couldn't even tell you how many black eyes I have had over the past year or so,"
Paul raised his hand to stop me, his arm shaking.
"I'm sorry, I know it's a lot, and I shouldn't have told you, but in all fairness you asked," He turned around to face me, his expression agonizing. My chest tightened.
"Just give me a moment," He whispered, choked up. "Please," He begged. I watched as he tried to regain control of his emotions. At first he was upset, but then he seemed enraged. He displayed so many feelings my head was spinning. He looked up at me, once again, this time walking forward towards me. He picked up the pace and reached out to take me in his arms, and I broke down.
The tears poured from my eyes, as my body went limp in his. He strengthened his grip on me, picking me up in his arms. I wrapped my legs around his waist, leaving kisses and teardrops along his neck and shoulder.
"Shh," He soothed me, stroking my hair. "I won't let anything happen to you, I promise," He rocked me back and forth before he sat on the couch with me on his lap.
"Paul," I sobbed, feeling dramatic.
"Don't be anxious, Addison, I'm here to protect you," It was hard not to believe him; the seriousness in his tone was indescribable.
"I've never met anyone like you before," I told him, my sobs subsiding gradually.
"I can say the same about you," He admitted into my ear. I lifted my head to look into his eyes. His fingertips traced underneath my eyelids, wiping away stray tears. He leaned in and kissed around each one, mouthing and whispering he's sorry. He brought each arm to his lips and kissed every inch of skin on it, as I felt tears of his own drip from his eyes onto me. I brought his head up and wiped at his eyes, bothered by the fact that he was crying.
"Don't cry, please," I begged. "It bothers me to see you in pain," The overwhelming feeling of admitting this to him was relieving.
"You have no idea what you mean to me, Addison," The tingling sensation in my stomach hit again.
"But, you just met me," I told him firmly, feeling awkward. Why was our connection so strong? It's like I've known him all my life.
"It's like I've known you my whole life," My eyes widened in shock, as I thought the same seconds before.
"I know what you mean." The statement was sentimental, in every meaning.
"Oh God, Addy," He took my face in his hands, bringing our foreheads together. "If anything were to happen to you, I don't know what I would do," I felt the need to reassure him I was okay.
"Nothing will happen to me, Paul. I promise," I nodded my head. He smiled sadly at me.
"Do you know I don't even know your last name?" It's true, and I didn't know his either.
"My last name is Martone, what's yours?" I leaned down and snuggled into the crook of his neck.
"Terley," He kissed the side of my hairline.
We sat on the couch, in each others arms, for hours. We talked about our favorite foods, sports, celebrities, books, movies, everything. By the end of the night, I was absolutely sure I was in love with him. And the best part was, I was just as positive that he was in love with me, too.