I watch them continue their incessant pattern as his hand sits on my shoulder and my head on his own while I hear the crackle of the logs and the hum of the heating that make a song to my ears and I hear him yawn before my eyes flutter closed for the second time today.
I wake up to the feeling of being moved and I peel open my sleep stricken eyes to find Paul no longer by my side and walking down the hall and I soon hear a door click shut. I sigh and let my head rest on the couch and my eyes wander over to the now dead fireplace where a few red embers live with the struggle to stay alive and I let out a much needed yawn as my eyes stay wide awake. I sit up to reach for the glass of chocolate milk that I finish off just as Paul walks back into the room with a smile.
"So, how long was I out for this time?" I ask as I sit back with my ankle resting against the side of the couch and I look down to see it to be kind of red and still all puffy, as well as chubby.
"Oh, maybe twenty minutes. How are you feeling?" he responds and he presses his wrist to my forehead after I sit back once again.
"Fine, I guess."
"You don't feel so warm anymore, so that's good. I reckon you're probably hungry. What'd ya want to eat for dinner?" he questions and I shrug my shoulders and he grins as he sits beside me with his energetic eyes playing on me. A smile breaks through on his lips and I can't help but to return it.
I stare up at the plain ceiling and I think of my bedroom back home where I had scarlet walls with pictures held up by tacks or pieces of tape. I had this big Abbey Road poster above my pillow and several pictures of the four plastered on my walls that left hardly any room for other pictures. The door closes with a soft whoosh and I look up to see a dark figure cross into the line of light the moon pours into the bedroom and he falls onto the springy mattress with a long yawn.
"Will you please answer me at least one thing?" Paul inquires as I lay on my back, the same as him, as a t-shirt of his reaches to the middle of my thighs and I turn to face him and I wince at my achey ribs.
"What is it now?" I grumble with a fake annoyance flowing from my lips and he chuckles his familiar laugh before speaking again.
"Do we do good, you know?"
"What kind of question is that? You guys have already made a name for yourselves and done so much more!" I exclaim in response to his question and I hear his exhalation.
"Well I know that, but what America? That's what we're really set on conquering, but I'm never sure how we'll get received over there."
I sigh and move over to find his arm with my head full of red hair and I feel his arm shift to have my head fall onto his chest as his five fingers creep onto my back to find a home there, "You don't need to worry one bit about doing even more good, and that's a promise."
"It's just that now we've been speaking about all of these things and how you mentioned the future... Wait did you just promise that? Ohoho we must do pretty fantastic then!" he exclaims after stopping himself mid sentence and I laugh against his warm chest that supports my head and I roll my eyes before looking up to his baby face that is half illuminated by the washed out light.
"Don't you be going and getting a big head now." I advise with a smirk and he just continues to grin with his chubby cheeks showing off well.
"I know, I know, but it's mighty hard, I must say. Ah, Court..," he trails off with his grinning lips and he looks down at me with his dark eyes that I've been sharing glances with these past two hours we've been laying in his bed talking about old memories, the last few days, my unfortunate ankle, some of our beliefs and then he asked me a few things about the future. Don't worry, because I didn't give up too much to this cheeky man here. "You know, I can't decide if it's a good thing or a bad thing that you're from the future."
"Hey!" I scoff at him and he throws his head back to chuckle while the glorious sound comes from his pink lips and his head straightens and he looks down at me and places his hand on my cheek.
I look into his eyes, those caring pair and I notice him look to my parted lips and then back to my eyes the shape of almonds-that's what my mother always used to call them-and then he goes in for it to place his lips on my delicate pair. My available hand shoots to his neck while my lips crave his and I lock my fingers in his thick hair that feels soft to my touch as his hand sits on my waist for the short number of seconds that his lips are touching mine, before he pulls away. I meet his eyes and he brushes the hair off of my forehead and then looks back to me.
"You really did scare me today."
"I know, but I didn't mean to. I hope you know that." I whisper in reply as the darkness holds the silence that surrounds us.
"I know you didn't try to, love, but I-I just, I care about you." he responds and I kiss his cheek in a silent thank you and one side of his mouth rises into a not so smile and then it fades to be replaced by his serious look. He opens his mouth as if he wants to say something, but then stops like he changed his mind.
"What?"
"Never mind." he mutters and then looks away from me to have his head land on his cased pillow and I watch his dark pair wander to the ceiling where my irises were just being transfixed.
I give up on trying to figure out what he almost said and I roll out of his arm to land on my side and I wince briefly at the pressure on my ribs, but a second later it's gone. I glance down to my ankle that isn't swollen so much anymore, but still isn't to its original size while I face the wall.
"Paul, what if I have to stay here forever?" I speak into the uncomfortable silence that the both of us occupy as it's getting later and later.
"You make it sound like it's a bad thing. I reckon it wouldn't be so bad, and maybe you could even make yourself a life here."
I carefully turn around to face his partially lit figure and a look washes over his face as if he realized that he just said something wrong or offensive, "But this isn't where I belong, Paul."
"It's where you are though, and where you'll be for who knows how long. Can we just please not speak about it anymore?" he retorts and I'm left silent from his harsh words and I break the eye contact that began to grow irritable only to return my pupils to him.
"Why are you getting angry about it? I only just brought it up, and it's the damn truth." I try not to make it sound like a demand with my bold tone that wasn't intentional and he huffs before looking to me for a second.
"It's not hard to figure out the reason why I don't want to speak about it any longer, Court." he mumbles and then turns over to destroy the eye contact all together and I don't hide my frustrated groan.
I bite my lip while looking around the shady room while the words that just escaped Paul's lips course through my mind, and then it all comes together. How could I be so dumb? I exhale a long sigh and I turn over and move over to Paul to drape my arm over his side and I rest my chin on his long shoulder as he keeps still while the sounds of his soft, almost invisible breathing echoes in my ears.
"I'm sorry..." my words wander away from me and I look down to his furry arm that moves to bring my hand to his and he closes his fingers over my fist.
"It's all right," he pauses. "Do you uh want me to get another pillow for your ankle? I hope it isn't bothering you as much anymore."
I smile against his shoulder at his odd wording that switched to something else rather quickly and then I frown at it turning so quick and my chin falls to have my forehead pressed against his toned shoulder. He swivels before I closed my somewhat sleepy eyes and he draws me into his center to have my head meet his collarbone and my arms go to his long back.
"I hate goodbyes." I comment, giving that indirect answer that I know what he meant before.
"I don't fancy them all too much, either," he comments as his fingers rake themselves up and down my back that is covered by his worn t shirt full of holes while I breathe in his cologne. "So, lets never have to say it to each other." he concludes and I exhale a scared breath into his smooth shirt.
I close my eyes as the sound of his heart beating becomes louder in my ears and I feel his cheek meet my head and he whispers a few words, maybe even a sentence that is too quiet and inaudible for me to make out even in this pure silence.
"I have no bloody idea how you're supposed to do this. Will you be nice and do it for me, please?" Paul begs as I hold the giant whisk with both of my hands and I stare down into the pastel brown liquid I stir.
"It's not hard. You just stir it some and then make sure it isn't too thick, and then dip it in and make sure the bottom is wiped off." I tell him and I lift the metal utensil from the dark liquid to place it back in another bucket full of murky water.
"Alright, I get that, but what about color combinations? I dunno what goes good together, but you do 'cause you know about all of this!"
"You're making it much harder than it needs to be, Paul! You just think of colors you would like together and go with it!" I answer as I grab the hard, pink bowl I sat on top of a closed bucket after I made sure the sleeves of my loose sweater were staying rolled up as Mr. Crabby over there stands to my left with a ticked off look covering his face.
"But what if it doesn't-."
"It's called experimenting." I cut him off from the words I knew he was going to utter and he blows out a long breath before walking over to the end of the fairly long table to take off the lid of a white bucket that looks identical to the one I stand in front of as well as the four others on this side of the table.
"So, what colors do you reckon you're going to do?" he inquires, referring to the glazing we're doing today with our clay pieces that we finished last week as today is Thursday, a few days after the whole accident with me getting myself banged up.
"Um.." my words escape me for a moment as I make a list in my mind. "I'm going to glaze this bowl Albany Brown and then you can do that other one I made for you." I tell him and he looks to me with a surprised expression.
"You know, that's a risky move you're taking 'cause I'm just going to mess it up. I know that you know it."
"Would you have a little faith in yourself?" I respond as my eyes are directed on the bowl I dip into the kind of but not really thick glaze and I lift it back up while the goop runs off the side.
"No, 'cause you already have more than enough in me." he responds sweetly and I look up to see his eyes planted on me and we exchange small grins before he looks away to his pinch pot he dips into the bucket splattered with paint.
It surely is never a dull moment with this one, and that's more than okay with me. I'm just thankful that I'm having a moment with him.
AN: Whatcha thinking? Random, but who out there does pottery? Any of you? It's so fun, I love it! Are you liking where the story is? Feel free to share your thoughts!