A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and everything, guys. I'm loving this story, but I don't know how much longer it'll go. It kind of feels like it's wrapping up, but then, I don't really know because I still have plans for it, so I guess we'll see how it goes, shall we? Hope you enjoy the chapter, and reviews are always welcome and appreciated! :)

I want to pinch myself.

Actually, no, scratch that, I want to dance down this hallway, skipping, jumping, squealing, generally acting like a fool. I want to sky-dive or bungee jump or just…no, I want to get back to Chris right now. Would it be inappropriate and mean if I were to go to Paul's hotel room, tell him it's over before he even lets me in the door, then madly sprint back to my hotel room? Because this is my thought process right now. I know I'm not taking Paul's feelings into consideration, but I have Chris, in solid form, sitting on my bed, wanting to be with me.

If that doesn't take precedent over everything else, I don't know what will.

It's not like I didn't care for Paul, I did care for him, but that was all it was, caring. I liked him, he was a nice guy, he treated me well, but as for the sparks, they were never there. I tried to imagine them being there because I never thought Chris would be…well, whatever he is right now. I try to push any thoughts of Chris being here temporarily because I'm not sure my heart could take that right now, and I'd rather not think this is some one-time deal.

I want it to be a forever deal, if that's at all possible, God. I mean, the guy exists, Chris told me, so he has to have some hand in this. I'm not sure what I did that got me here. I'm not sure if God is rewarding me or…or if, in a very short time, he's going to be punishing me. I quickly scan over my life, nope, no murders, no pillaging, stealing, I think I'm good. I hope I'm good, I can't think of any reason to be punished so this has to be a gift, Chris has to be a gift.

I finally reach Paul's hotel room. I remember the number because he gave it to me earlier that evening, asking if I wanted to hang out. I remember telling him I would think about it, but I had no intention of ever going. Now I'm here, and I suddenly realize he's going to think I want to hang out with him, but I'm going to have to crush him. The brevity of what I'm about to do suddenly comes crashing on me, and I turn to talk to Chris, only to remember he's not here with me.

It's so strange not to have him next to me, saying something sarcastic to make me forget all my troubles. It's just plain weird being all alone for the first time since forever. Even when I didn't talk to Chris, I knew he was there. I would see him, for so long I would see him, and now I'm looking up at down the hallway, but I'm all alone. I wonder if he can feel my presence. I wonder if he knows what I'm feeling. What part of ourselves is still connected? Is he human, or is he just some divine being sent down from heaven (literally!) to be with me?

It's all so confusing, but before I know it, I'm knocking on his door. I'm tired of leaving Chris waiting. I want to spend every moment I can with him. Paul answers the door and his eyes light up with concern and happiness, "Steph, I'm so glad you're here."

He pulls me into a hug and I cringe. His touch has suddenly gone cold, feeling like a foreign virus all over my skin. I miss Chris's touch and I've only had it for mere minutes. I've already memorized it, committed it to memory. He could already be gone by the time I get back. Oh God, please, I beg of you, don't let him be gone when I come back. "Hi," I tell him awkwardly and when I know I sound awkward, that's when you really know it's awkward.

"How are you doing? I wanted to go by your room, but I didn't want to overwhelm you. Your dad fired Sean, he's out of there, escorted out by security," Paul tells me. I would be nervous for him coming after me, but I have Chris, and he would never let anything bad happen to me. He would never let anyone get to me. He didn't before and he wouldn't now.

"I'm okay," I assure him, kind of pulling away, both because I don't want him touching me and to show him that I'm fine. His eyes scrape over me slowly, as if looking for some kind of damage. There isn't any, and it's all because of Chris. He's the one who saved me, kept me away from harm, like he's been doing my entire life.

"Good, I was so worried about you. I can't believe I ever called that guy my friend. I would never want anything to happen to you."

"Paul," I dive in headfirst because there's no easy way to do this, there is only one way, straight through his heart. "I need to talk to you."

"What's up, what's going on?" he asks because he can tell I'm serious. I'm going to blindside him right now, I know it.

"It's just…it's just," I stumble because he really is a nice guy, "I know this is going to sound cliché, and I apologize for it, but I think everyone has that perfect person for them, and I just don't think I'm yours. I know you're right for someone, but I just don't think you're right for me."

"Steph, I don't understand," his brow furrows as he looks at me, confusion clouding his features. I wish Chris were here, peeking over Paul's shoulders, perhaps giving him rabbit ears to diffuse my tension.

"I just don't think we're working out—"

"Stephanie, if I had known at all that Sean was going to act that way towards you, you know I would have dropped him as a friend a long time ago. I never would have let him treat you like that, if I knew things were that bad, I would have kicked his ass myself."

I should have known he would go there. I should have known that's where his mind would have immediately gone. I shake my head a few times, "No, Paul, no, it hasn't anything to do with Sean. I'm glad you were pissed because he's a bad friend for doing what he did. This is just about us. I know I haven't been the best girlfriend lately, I've barely been a girlfriend, period, and I'm sure you've noticed."

"I—"

"Please, let me finish," I interrupt him. "I've just been thinking about the two of us, about where I want this to go. I hesitated. I knew you felt more for me and when you would say nice things, sweet things, they just didn't warm me up like they should. I just think when you're in love with someone, when they speak to you, it should mean something, it should make you feel something."

I think to when Chris talks to me, the way his words have warmed my body for so long. That's something Paul should have. I used him. I used him because he was alive and breathing. I used him because I couldn't have what I wanted. It wasn't fair to him, and if I could tell him all of this, I would, but there's no way he'd believe me."

"And I just didn't make you feel like that," he says morosely, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I'm sorry," I tell him remorsefully. I never should have let it get this far, but I was so convinced I could learn to love this man out of necessity, but that's not what love should be. It's never what love should be. "I really am, Paul. Believe me when I say it's nothing you did. It's just, I just think there's more for both of us. I won't say that tired line of, 'can we be friends?' but know that I do hope it can come true someday."

"Can you please leave?" he asks me. I just nod. He speaks again, "I don't hate you. But…I just can't look at you right now. I just don't want to look at you right now."

"I understand," I whisper, holding my chin high even though I want to hug him and…I don't know, sob against him because I hate hurting people like this. Chris once told me I have a big heart, and I guess I do because suddenly Paul's pain is mirrored in myself.

"I don't hate you, Steph, and I really am glad you're okay, just so you know."

"I know," I reach out to touch his arm. "I don't want you to blame yourself, it's just the universe telling us that this isn't right."

"Yeah, I guess," he mumbles.

"I'll go now," I know he wants me to leave, and I don't want to stay here and see him this sad.

He just nods, not even bothering with words, and I feel like crap. But then, as I step out into the hallway, I know what I'm going back to, and something lifts inside of me. I know I was never in love with Paul, so I guess I'm not as torn up about it. I feel bad for what I did, but I can't feel bad for why I did it. Even if Chris had never become whatever it is he is right now, it wouldn't have worked with Paul. I can only hope someday we can be civil to each other, maybe even friends.

As fast as I came to Paul's room, I think I'm twice as fast going back to mine. Chris is waiting there. I jog towards the elevators and I must have pushed the up button about fifty times. I might break it I hit it so many times, impatient for the elevator to arrive. It appears to go slowly, too slowly, so slowly that I'm contemplating taking the stairs, maybe three at a time if I can. Just when I'm about to turn and make a break for it, one of the elevators dings and I rush to stand in front of it like if I don't, it'll just bypass the floor entirely.

I climb inside, pray that it doesn't stop mid-floor, and then watch the numbers ascend until I get to my floor. I'm off the elevator before the doors even open all the way. Call me desperate, I don't really care. Chris is waiting for me. I have to seize the day. Carpe diem if there was ever a day for it. I grab my keycard out of my pocket, shoving it into the door, too quickly, and I get that damned red light. Damn you, red light! I want the green light. I take a deep breath and insert the keycard the correct way. I smile proudly like this is some accomplishment.

I push open the door and step inside, expecting to see Chris sitting on the couch. He's not, I frown, I walk into the bedroom, and he's not there either and I panic. I just panic. I can feel my heart pounding as I'm thinking no, no, no, no, no, you couldn't have just given me the taste and nothing more. I almost want to grip the doorway because I'm fairly positive my knees are shaking. God can't be this cruel! He just can't do this to me!

Just when I'm about to curse God and all of his disciples, then run off to sacrifice a virgin to Satan, Chris emerges from the bathroom. "There you are!" I exclaim, probably much more enthusiastically then he's expecting.

"I was washing my hands," Chris holds them up to show me how clean they are. They might as well sparkle. "It's just weird touching things, my hands felt weird."

I laugh at his cuteness, walking over to him and grabbing both his cheeks. His eyes widen as I lean forward and kiss him with enough force to let God feel how much I'm in love with this man. He's still not used to the kissing thing because he puckers up his lips too much. I slowly coax him to relax with my lips, and he finally gets the hang of it. I know I'm being aggressive, but someone has to take the lead and considering I'm the only one in the room who's actually felt…well, anything in the entire world, I know it has to be me.

"How did it go with Paul?" Chris asks me while I'm trying to kiss him. God bless him, he doesn't realize the last thing I want to do is talk about Paul.

"It went fine," I kind of lie. I mean, there wasn't anything thrown or harsh words, just quiet acceptance.

"Fine?"

"Chris, please, I love you, but you don't have to be my guardian angel tonight," I let him know because he's acting like one, trying to make sure I'm okay. I want to keep kissing him, I want to let him touch me, that's all I want, just that, not words, I've had enough words with Chris, too many words with Chris. I'm done with the words, done with them!

He looks at me in confusion though, like he suddenly lost his footing. "I don't…I don't know how to be anything else."

"What?" I'm not sure I understand.

"I'm just…I've been yours for so long, I'm not entirely sure how not to…how to turn off being your guardian angel," he tells me, his brow furrowing in confusion. I know it must be hard for him. There wasn't even a moment of transition. He just picked up something and threw it, that's it, that was the moment of cognizance so to speak.

I lightly brush my hand across his cheek. "You just have to care about me, love me, that's all you have to do, that's safety enough, Chris. You've done your job perfectly, believe me, I'm still here, and I'm healthy, and so happy, so happy I think I may just burst like Violet Beauregard from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory."

"I love you too," he tells me simple, trying to let go of who he was. I know he's not ready to completely let go, but for once, I get to help him.

"I want you, Chris," I tell him, repeating what I'd said earlier. He looks down, and it seems like he's almost embarrassed. I tilt his chin up and he's actually blushing. I smile and give him a peck on the lips. "Don't be scared."

"I'm not scared," he protests. "I've just never really…" The words hang in the air. I don't care what he hasn't though, I just care that he is.

"Don't worry, let me show you."