Paul woke up the second he heard footsteps outside of the door. He couldn't have been asleep long, but his instincts didn't let him rest with his Imprint vulnerable. But he didn't want to wake her either, so settled for pulling a dark scowl on his face as the door was opened. Jared's mischievous grin didn't even falter as he stuck his head in. Kim, however, right by his side, blanched – eyes widening at his fierce expression.
"What?" he hissed, glancing worriedly down at Kitty as she sighed and moved. He relaxed when it became clear she was just wriggling closer, eyes still closed. He couldn't bare to disturb the temporary peace – she had just found out about a whole other world, full of monsters. That would be traumatic for anyone.
"You having dinner?" Jared asked, conversationally.
Paul shrugged. "I should probably get her home soon. But…" he looked back at Kitty again.
"We'll let her sleep for a bit longer." Kim said, smiling knowingly.
Paul relaxed slightly, nodding gratefully. Just a moment more. He could give himself that.
His back still ached, though Paul knew that it would be almost healed by now, and his arm was tender but movable. Perks of the job.
It all seemed so inconsequential when she was with him, the steady thrum of her heartbeat all he needed to calm his own. She soothed him – and part of him had to wonder how unstable he would be without her. And now that she knew, it would make it even easier. One less secret. One less stressor.
Now he just had to work out how to tell her about the Imprint.
Kitty woke up to something on her cheek. It was familiarly hot, and she opened her eyes slowly to see Paul smiling gently at her. She only had a second to blush in his soft attention, at the hand cupping her cheek so intimately – before she remembered all the events that had led up to her being held by Paul in a too small bed in a near-stranger's home.
She felt a rush of fear flood through her again – picturing the red eyes of the Cold One again, with all the sobering chill of realising that it was real.
"I'm sorry." Paul mumbled, retracting his hand and moving away from her, even as her insides screamed for him to come back, to hold her and protect her. He got up off the bed, heading over to the window. "I know its not easy for you to be around me. Knowing what I am." He was holding his jaw tight, looking away from her, faced pained.
"What?" Kitty asked, completely nonplussed.
He turned to her, a sardonic and deprecating smile in place. "I know I terrify you. I'm a monster – and I can't expect you to be unafraid-"
Kitty shook her head violently. "Paul, it's not you I'm afraid of." She interrupted his rant. He blinked at her, his turn to look baffled.
"But, your heartbeat, your breathing – I can hear it – you're afraid." He said confusedly.
"It's not you." She said gently. "You don't scare me, Paul – not anymore." She didn't know what was possessing her, as she crossed the room to him, putting a hand on his arm. He looked down at her hand on him, and then back at her, brows furrowed.
"Not… afraid?' he repeated dumbly. Kitty grinned, and threw her arms around him. She couldn't feel shy with him, just wanting to ease his apparent discomfort and worry. His arms went up around her almost automatically, and she swayed them back and forth for a moment before stepping back. He seemed let her go reluctantly. "Uh. Good." He said dazedly. "Great!" Then his face went white. "Shit!" he continued, in the same tone as his bizarre outbursts. Kitty's widened in concern.
"What?" she searched his eyes anxiously.
Paul smiled crookedly. "I really should get you home." He said, and she slapped him on the chest as her heart gave a flip of worry.
"Don't scare me like that." Her voice was light but her eyes were serious, as she looked to his sling.
"Sorry. But really, we should get going." He said, and turned her towards the door. He looked happy, brighter than she'd ever seen him. She let him steer her down the hallways, biting her lip to keep her own dumb grin from spreading across her face.
Her mother answered the door when she knocked – and Kitty had to hide her smile at how wide her eyes got, as they travelled the full (significant) length of Paul's body. "Hello, darling – and…?" she said, face smoothing over in her characteristic coolness. Kitty could see right through the cold act, could see that her mother was burning with curiosity, and no small bit of anticipation.
"Paul Lahote, ma'am." Paul said, nervously, extending his hand tentatively. She took it, and Kitty knew that Paul was experiencing the infamous Maria Faye handshake. His eyebrow twitched.
"Nice to meet you Paul, I'm Maria. Are you staying for dinner?" she asked smoothly, making Kitty's eyes widen. She shook her head almost imperceptivity, but Maria just smiled slightly.
"Paul's having dinner at his… boss' house." Kitty butted in, and Paul shot her a contemplative look.
He turned back to Maria, his usual confident smile growing. "Nothing binding. Dinner with you and your family sounds lovely, ma'am."
Maria shot him an approving look, nodding once. "Call me Maria, Paul. Come on inside before it starts to rain again." Kitty bit back a groan. Maria shut the door after them, and Kitty was struck again by just how large Paul was, dwarfing her and her mother and their entrance way as he took off his hoodie.
"You can put it in my room." Kitty muttered, tugging on his hand. His fingers wrapped around hers, and to her horror, she saw her mother's knowing gaze land on the action. She flamed bright red, but shot her mother a defiant look as she dragged Paul down the hall. Her mother and Alex were a lot alike, both shrewd and blunt and very discerning – to the point of being intimidatingly observant. The only thing Kitty had been able to keep from her, was the conflict at her old school – and that was because of Topher being the buffer, he was a far better liar than she was.
Paul just followed behind her, and she could just tell that he was grinning amusedly at her. "Your mom is cool." He said finally, as she moved to close the door behind them.
As if sensing her intention, her mother's voice rang out from the kitchen; "DOOR OPEN, KATELYN!"
Cheeks flaming, Kitty groaned. "MOM!" she whined loudly, as Paul snorted behind her. She turned on him, narrowing her eyes at his laughing form sprawled on her bed. "She's not cool. She's annoying." She complained, moving towards him. He moved over, giving her some space to sit down. She flopped down as he stood up, prowling towards her desk, and her cupboard of knick-knacks and books. He sniffed, and she shot him a weirded out look. "Why are you smelling my stuff?"
He looked back at her and shrugged. "Just checking." He said.
"Checking what?" She demanded, feeling a lot more comfortable in her own room.
"If you smell so sweet naturally, or if its something else." He said easily, and to her surprise, she felt her cheeks flame again. He let her splutter, smiling serenely, his eyes travelling over her room. She saw the second his eyes fell on her guitar, and winced – snapping her mouth shut. His eyebrows raised, and he turned to her. "You play?"
She shrugged uncomfortably. "I guess."
He picked up the instrument and brought it to her, kneeling before her like he was offering it to her. "Play for me." He said – rather than asked, and she frowned at him. He fluttered his eyelashes, looking entirely unashamed. "Please." He tacked on finally.
Kitty took it. It was hard to concentrate when he looked at her like that – with all this warmth and softness in his eyes. She didn't understand why he did it and she didn't understand why it made her so flustered, why it made her heart beat so fast. Her fingers moved into position naturally, and she had to look away to concentrate on the chords – and to give her poor heart a break.
It was force of habit to run through the tune of the song in her head, force of habit to hum along to get the key right – and it was only when she had finished the song that she realised she had been singing. And he was staring. Wide-eyed and open-mouthed.
She laughed awkwardly, setting the guitar aside. "Hah. A bit rusty. I haven't-"
"You never said you could do that." He sounded almost accusatory, gobsmacked. "That was so – just… wow." He finished.
Kitty bit at her lip, running her fingers over the glossy wood of the guitar. "Thanks. I haven't been playing much."
Paul tilted his head. "Well, you're really good. When'd you learn?" he was still sitting on the floor, and it was a little disconcerting to be looking down on him.
"Back in middle school." She said, with a faint smile. Her music teacher, Miss Heart, had been brimming with enthusiasm – enough to make her catch a love of music. "Topher and Alex had always been sporty, but I really enjoyed it, so I learnt it and loved it. I stopped midway through high-school. Before I came here obviously. It stopped being so fun when people-" she cut herself off with a broad smile. Paul noticed.
"When people what?" he asked slowly.
Kitty shook her head. She had made a promise to herself when it had been announced they were moving; to not let what had happened define or shape her. Sure, she was a little different, a little more timid and a little more guarded than she had been in middle school, but she had been so sick of being afraid. That was why Paul had affected her so much – so soon, there had been another enemy, another bully, someone who made her feel small. "It doesn't matter." She said.
"It matters to me." Paul said seriously. There was something about the earnest look in his eyes, something deep in her gut that told her to trust him.
"In high school," she began, feeling the ache that always came with thinking about it, "Topher and I weren't, um, very well liked." Paul went very still. "Toph had a crush on a girl we used to be friends with in middle school – but it didn't end well. We were sort of punching bags. For everyone." Kitty sighed a little, feeling her shoulders sagging, and wishing she didn't look and feel so pathetic.
She was shrinking in on herself, and Paul could feel nausea roil in his gut at the sad expression on her face, pulling down the corners of her lips, and dimming the shine in her sea-green eyes. "-it was easy, I guess, to… to hurt us. Call us names, and ruin our things, and humiliate us. We were easy targets. I mean – it never got physical, not really at least, for me – but Topher used to get kicked around. When a group of them found out I did music, they went through my locker and ripped up all my sheet music, broke the CDs I had in there," the way she was speaking was so detached, like she was narrating a story, "I was very afraid." She said distantly.
Paul felt a deep-seated wave self-loathing wash over him. "And then the minute you came here, I made your life hell again." He grabbed her hands, which were sitting limply on her lap. She blinked out of her empty stare to look at him. "Kitty, I'm sorry. I truly am."
Kitty's answering smile was small, but no less brilliant – and he felt something unfurl in his chest at the sheer amount of understanding and forgiveness in her eyes. "I know." She said simply, and squeezed his hands. Paul could put a name to the feeling then; it was admiration, and an adoration so fierce that it scared him.
He was falling, and falling fast.
Kitty flopped down on her bed after Paul left, listening to the faint roar of his truck engine as it disappeared down the street – and muffling her happy laughter into her sweater sleeve.
It had been nice – better than nice – dare she say, perfect.
A little awkward, in all the best ways, as her father and Alex had given Paul their fair share of grilling – her dad's good natured, and Alex's prickling and shrewd as usual. Topher and Paul had joked about sport, her dad had talked about cars, her mother had talked about school, and Alex had even begrudgingly spoken about her interest in tribal art. Kitty had sat back and watched, aware of how Paul's eyes always went back to her, how he made sure she was smiling and laughing, how he had stroked the inside of her wrist as he said goodbye, lingering in her doorway with his intense stare.
And Kitty had had, over dessert, come to a very simple – and a little terrifying – realisation.
That maybe, just a little, she had feelings for Paul Lahote.