note: so this was number 24 on my list and i wasn't sure of i should make this a break up post or not but idk if i'm ready for that or if you're ready for that so nO bReAk uPs YeT but it's a ...fight :(... but again it'll be short i can't stand these two fighting EVER but it ends well
Emma grabbed Paul's arm roughly and pulled him aside. "What was that about?" She hissed angrily.
Paul stared at her dumbfounded. "Huh?" He asked, genuinely confused.
"Don't you fucking play dumb, Matthews!" Emma cursed, crossing her arms. Despite the fact she was much smaller than Paul, he knew that she was the higher person here.
"Em," He frowned. "I genuinely don't understand what you mean."
Emma peered around the restaurant, careful not to completely lose her shit. She gave him a bitter smile and battered her eyelashes. "Oh my gosh! Is that you, Paul? From middle school! Oh my god, squee!" Emma taunted, using a high pitched voice. "Remember us two, Paul. Gosh, the good ol' days! You're going to tell me that was nothing?"
Paul stared at her in disbelief. "You're kidding." He said bluntly.
"Do I look like I'm fucking joking, Paul?"
A waiter behind Paul quickly tapped his shoulder. "Erm, I'll show you to your table." The young girl stuttered, leading them over to a corner where they sat down. Paul thanked her and she scurried away quickly.
"Emma." Paul breathed out, looking at the mini devil that had appeared in front of him. "She was a friend from middle school, sometimes it's cool to see people you haven't seen in ages!"
Emma flung her hands up. "Then why did she flirt with you, huh? I'm your girlfriend, I was clearly standing right next to you!" Her eyes became cloudy and she huffed. "So, did you date?"
"No." Paul said, nonchalantly.
"I don't believe you." Emma retorted.
Paul looked around the restaurant, seeing a couple eyes glaze over at them. "Can you quiet down?" He hissed, which shocked Emma slightly, but she recovered quickly, scowling at him. "If you really don't trust me, your boyfriend, then go bloody ask her!"
Emma crossed her arms again and leant back in her chair. "Yeah, I don't think so." She said.
"So you don't trust me?" Paul peered at her, attempting to break her tough wall.
Now that question got to her, far more than what he was expecting. Emma looked down and slowly uncrossed her hands, fidgeting in her seat. "I'm sorry." She whispered.
Paul raised his hand up to his ear sarcastically. "Didn't quite catch that. Care to repeat it?"
Emma frowned and Paul noticed her eyes were now glassy. "I said, I'm sorry. That I overreacted. I'm just..." She snuck a glance up at him and sighed. "I'm just protective."
"Of?"
"Of you, you idiot!" She huffed again, but a lot less angrily this time. "I didn't mean to yell." She added quietly.
Paul smiled at her sympathetically. "Honestly, it was kinda hot..."
Emma snapped her eyes up to him and kicked him from under the table.
"Sorry, sorry!" He raised his arms in defence. "Just don't believe that every girl who talks to me is trying to hit on me. I've made it pretty clear I'm in a happy, healthy relationship." Paul stuck his hand out over the table and Emma gently grabbed it.
"Okay, fine." She said, staring at their hands. "But the only way I'm going to be happy right now is if I get some spaghetti."
"Make that two bowls." Paul smiled at her.
"Or one!" Emma grinned.
"Ooh, so she's a romantic now?" He teased, sticking his tongue out at her.
"You're such a child!" She gasped and laughed softly. "Fine, two bowls of spaghetti. Now let's order, I'm starving."
