Open [boyxboy] ✓

twenty-eight:: when you're just tired.

And really, I tried to convince myself that I had it and that Paul would understand but once I'd made it to his floor, I wanted to throw myself down the elevator shaft. My palms were sweating again and I found myself pacing silently in front of their apartment, my ribcage feeling restricted.

I knocked and instantly regretted it.

There was that sloshing in my stomach, my heart beating faster and I was seconds away from leaving. That was when the door opened, a yelling on the inside that sounded a lot like Rilee. I was face to face with Paul's bestfriend and I gulped, afraid that he heard what was going on and I kept my gaze on Brandon's poker face, eyes glaring me down as he chewed his gum. I felt threatened, "why're you here?" I couldn't help the jealousy inside when it was insinuated that Brandon knew something happened.

The guy who previously had my boyfriend in bed knew I was a screw up.

That bothered me more than it should have, "I'm here for Paul-"

He rolled his eyes and I bit my lip as he stepped back. I took the space as a chance to step inside, closing the door gently. His eyes were still watching me like a hawk and I couldn't stand that, pushing a hand through my hair nervously and squaring my shoulders in an attempt to seem bigger. Fuck my skinny arms and the fact that Brandon was taller. He seemed to notice my insecurity because if it were possible, his eyes got darker and he crossed his arms, the muscles in his forearms jumping slightly. "What the fuck did you do?"

That wasn't what I expected, maybe a tease about Paul being done with me or that he'd moved on into Brandon's bed but definitely not an accusation, "What?"

He rolled his eyes again, the irritated tone he had with me was becoming annoying. He was acting as if I were wrong for being concerned but maybe that was just my jealousy clouding my interpretation of his actions, "Paul came in alone, after he left with you, and he wouldn't talk to anyone. He went straight to his room and I smell oil paint so I swear to God, I will end your life if you so much as look at him the wrong way."

Well, if I wasn't feeling shitty enough, that hit me hard.

"I'm here to talk to him." There was a lingering sense of giving up that was inside me but I willed myself not to. Because the truth was, I'd been waiting to call him my boyfriend and now that he was, I didn't want to let it go despite the fact that he was an angel and I was nothing close.

"About?"

Brandon was prying too much by then and I found myself snapping, "I think that's between me and Paul."

He sighed, raising an eyebrow with a humorless chuckle, "You-"

And I didn't think I could handle anymore scrutinizing so I was grateful when a voice sounded, my head snapping over to look at Paul. His tattooed hand was pushing through his black hair as he turned the corner and I noticed his lack of glasses, paint covering his hand as he stared down at a bottle of dish soap. I could see the redness in his eyes but other than that, there was no evidence of weakness. His voice, however, seemed irritated, "Hey, Brandon, have you seen the Dawn soap because I could've sworn it was on the damn- Julian?"

I hadn't had the chance to meet his eyes because I heard his footsteps getting a little faster, arms twining around me in a second. Brandon was forgotten as I basked in Paul's warmth, shutting my eyes and trying not to let my emotions out again. I couldn't help but hug him back, a paint scent coming over me but I couldn't care less. His lips were by my ear, whispering gently, "Don't run from me again, I was so scared."