Right There
He had been tossing and turning for a good three hours. Quickly, he sat up and nearly fell off of the couch-he had forgotten that he was not sleeping in a bed. Reaching over his shoulder he turned on the lamp and wearily rubbed at his eyes, squinting as his pupils became accustomed to the light. He looked down at his watch. It was four in the morning-and he was yet to get a wink. That was it. He couldn't sleep. Running a hand through his hair, he pulled the blanket from his body and shuffled into the kitchen, trying not to wake anybody.
He went through three cupboards before he found a glass. Honestly, he had been here thousands of times, but he could never seem to find his way around. Walking to the faucet, he poured himself a glass of water.
"Paul?"
Startled he turned around to see Trish standing in the door frame, dressed in her pajamas.
"Oh God, sorry Trish, I didn't mean to wake you," he said before she cut him off.
"No, it's okay, I couldn't sleep," she said sitting down at the table, gesturing for him to join her.
He sat. A moment passed before he spoke again, "I want to thank you," he began.
She waved him off, "It was nothing-besides you've done this enough times for me," she said smiling at him.
He smiled back at her, "Yeah, well, it's about time you paid me back."
Playfully she hit him across the arm, "Shut up you jerk."
He only smirked in reply.
Trish smiled to herself. It was good to see Paul smiling. Lord knows people didn't smile after the sort of thing Paul just went through. Then again, he was sort of used to this. It was the same thing, over and over again-Paul found a girl, fell head over heels in love with her, she would move into his place, then they would fight, she would throw him out of his apartment, then he'd be here-sitting at her kitchen table at four in the morning, drinking a glass of water-waiting for the flavor of the month to move her crap out of his house.
"Well, since you're in a better mood, want to talk about it?"
"Not really."
"Why not?"
"Not worth the effort."
"I see."
Another quiet moment passed. Paul took a sip of his water, "Trish, what's wrong with me?".
She looked up at him with a raised brow, "What do you mean?".
"I mean-why can't I find her?"
She fell silent. She didn't really have an answer for him. "I don't know, but she's out there, no doubt about it."
He chuckled, "Yeah right-you know, why don't you and I just date?".
She chuckled right back, "That would practically be incest, besides there is a little thing called Jeff."
"Oh right, Skittles," he said smirking.
"Shut up."
Almost on cue, Jeff came bounding down the stairs. Noticing Paul and Trish at the kitchen table he smiled.
"Morning dear," he said walking towards the table.
"Oh, and morning Trish," he said turning to his girlfriend and kissing her gently on the lips.
Shaking her head, she smacked him in the gut. She reveled in his sharp intake of breathe. Jeff walked over to the fridge, pouring himself a glass of orange juice.
"So what's been going on this early in the morning," he questioned, his head still in the fridge.
"Nothing Jeff dear, just trying to cop a cheap feel on your girlfriend," Paul said smirking.
"Nothing out of the ordinary I see," Jeff replied, smiling, as he shut the refrigerator and sat down next to Trish, draping his arm around her shoulder. He turned to face her, "I hope you turned him down, darling," he said smiling cheekily.
"No Jeff, he's lying, I practically threw myself at him, but he still refused me-said he felt sorry, for you," she said smiling back.
"Good man, that Paul Levesque-besides, I wouldn't know what I would do with out you my dear."
Paul shook his head at the couple before him, they really deserved each other. They were both crazy.
Putting his glass down, Jeff turned serious eyes to Paul, "Start talking buddy."
"There nothing to talk about," he said simply.
"Really?"
"Yeah."
Jeff smiled suddenly, prompting Paul to raise a brow to him in question, "Let's just hope you're lucky this time-maybe this time she'll leave the ice cube tray in the fridge," Jeff said, answering Paul's brow.
"Yeah-I'm crossing my fingers on this one," Paul replied with a smile.
*
He had been tossing and turning for a good three hours. Quickly, he sat up and nearly fell off of the couch-he had forgotten that he was not sleeping in a bed. Reaching over his shoulder he turned on the lamp and wearily rubbed at his eyes, squinting as his pupils became accustomed to the light. He looked down at his watch. It was four in the morning-and he was yet to get a wink. That was it. He couldn't sleep. Running a hand through his hair, he pulled the blanket from his body and shuffled into the kitchen, trying not to wake anybody.
He went through three cupboards before he found a glass. Honestly, he had been here thousands of times, but he could never seem to find his way around. Walking to the faucet, he poured himself a glass of water.
"Paul?"
Startled he turned around to see Trish standing in the door frame, dressed in her pajamas.
"Oh God, sorry Trish, I didn't mean to wake you," he said before she cut him off.
"No, it's okay, I couldn't sleep," she said sitting down at the table, gesturing for him to join her.
He sat. A moment passed before he spoke again, "I want to thank you," he began.
She waved him off, "It was nothing-besides you've done this enough times for me," she said smiling at him.
He smiled back at her, "Yeah, well, it's about time you paid me back."
Playfully she hit him across the arm, "Shut up you jerk."
He only smirked in reply.
Trish smiled to herself. It was good to see Paul smiling. Lord knows people didn't smile after the sort of thing Paul just went through. Then again, he was sort of used to this. It was the same thing, over and over again-Paul found a girl, fell head over heels in love with her, she would move into his place, then they would fight, she would throw him out of his apartment, then he'd be here-sitting at her kitchen table at four in the morning, drinking a glass of water-waiting for the flavor of the month to move her crap out of his house.
"Well, since you're in a better mood, want to talk about it?"
"Not really."
"Why not?"
"Not worth the effort."
"I see."
Another quiet moment passed. Paul took a sip of his water, "Trish, what's wrong with me?".
She looked up at him with a raised brow, "What do you mean?".
"I mean-why can't I find her?"
She fell silent. She didn't really have an answer for him. "I don't know, but she's out there, no doubt about it."
He chuckled, "Yeah right-you know, why don't you and I just date?".
She chuckled right back, "That would practically be incest, besides there is a little thing called Jeff."
"Oh right, Skittles," he said smirking.
"Shut up."
Almost on cue, Jeff came bounding down the stairs. Noticing Paul and Trish at the kitchen table he smiled.
"Morning dear," he said walking towards the table.
"Oh, and morning Trish," he said turning to his girlfriend and kissing her gently on the lips.
Shaking her head, she smacked him in the gut. She reveled in his sharp intake of breathe. Jeff walked over to the fridge, pouring himself a glass of orange juice.
"So what's been going on this early in the morning," he questioned, his head still in the fridge.
"Nothing Jeff dear, just trying to cop a cheap feel on your girlfriend," Paul said smirking.
"Nothing out of the ordinary I see," Jeff replied, smiling, as he shut the refrigerator and sat down next to Trish, draping his arm around her shoulder. He turned to face her, "I hope you turned him down, darling," he said smiling cheekily.
"No Jeff, he's lying, I practically threw myself at him, but he still refused me-said he felt sorry, for you," she said smiling back.
"Good man, that Paul Levesque-besides, I wouldn't know what I would do with out you my dear."
Paul shook his head at the couple before him, they really deserved each other. They were both crazy.
Putting his glass down, Jeff turned serious eyes to Paul, "Start talking buddy."
"There nothing to talk about," he said simply.
"Really?"
"Yeah."
Jeff smiled suddenly, prompting Paul to raise a brow to him in question, "Let's just hope you're lucky this time-maybe this time she'll leave the ice cube tray in the fridge," Jeff said, answering Paul's brow.
"Yeah-I'm crossing my fingers on this one," Paul replied with a smile.
*