[Insert Title Here] Paris x Reader Oneshot Book..(The Dummy's Dummy)

A Lovely Mistake

Inspired by PinocchioP's song, Love for Love by Love of Love (Yes.....really). It was really the last batch of lyrics that made me wanna write this. (And it's also why the title of this is called a lovely mistake)

I feel like Paris would be the one to call love one of the worst things to happen to someone, yeah? Cause it makes them vulnerable and scared?

Context: (human....Because I DO WHAT I WANT AT THIS POINT) Paris didn't want to fall in love. Called it a rotten thing that made people vulnerable. Something that makes you do things that you would never think of doing. But he foolishly fell in love. And he really, really needs to kill it before it gets out of hand.

.....I turned him into a depressed teen.    Paris POV (you and him are like, 17. ((Because 16 is used too often LOL)) Darling twins are in their 20's! ...Why darling twins? Just read on) Requests: OPEN
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...Everyone knows what love is, yes?

    Some people call it a wonderful thing. Something that everyone strives for, to find someone who understands them. Someone who completes you. Someone who makes your stomach flutter with nervousness and affection.

       I am not one of those people who think love is an enchanting thing.

       I think love is sickening.

     It makes you vulnerable. It makes you feel immature and weak. It makes you irrational, makes you feel these stupid 'butterflies' and makes you do, all of those stupid things that you would never normally do.

     Love is a terrifying mistake. And whoever made up love obviously wanted us all to suffer. I'm just sure of it.

      I want nothing to do with love.

     Or, so I wish I could say. I wish I could say that with pride. Say it without grimacing. But alas, I fell for it too. How disgusting.

     But it's not the worst part. Not at all.

     Everyone around us knows I'm in love. And they keep on pressuring me to hurry up and confess, because I'm losing my chance, and someone will take that person away from me if I don't.

      And I'd say go ahead. I wouldn't care! They can go love someone else for all I care. I'd be completely fine with it. Maybe it'll make me feel better. Maybe seeing them with someone else will turn me back into the person I was before. A smart, rational person who doesn't wonder what it's like to hold hands with someone just because they can.

       (Perhaps it'll make me sane again?)

     And so, here I am, mindlessly dragging my spoon in the bowl as I get tormented by my witch of a mother.

     Ah, sorry. I mean, the best mother in the world, who totally isn't out of my fathers league, and who totally isn't into the concept of love. (God I wish it was true.)

     "When are you going to accept that you love (Y/N)?"

    "When are you going to get off my back?" I can't help but snarl. She gives me a disapproving look, hands folded against the table.

      "Why are you being so difficult?" She tries. "I just want to help you. You don't know if (Y/N) loves you back." I roll my eyes, fingers numb from gripping onto the utensil.

      "If you want to help someone, why don't you go help someone who actually wants it?" Avoiding her gaze, I reach for my cup. "I don't recall ever asking for help. Do you?"