Fight For Love

Part 10

You stood in the bathroom trying to make yourself look semi-presentable despite the minor bruises and cuts lining around your face from the accident. You heard from the baby monitor Paul, and Evan was playing. You smile from ear to ear, imagining what life would be like in the upcoming months when the new baby would be joining the three of you. The sound of the phone ringing pulled you away from the mirror, and you saw the guitarist darting into the room to grab it. Paul jumped on the bed and answered the device grinning at you the whole time.

"Hello? Of course, Evan's ready to go. We do keep a routine here at my house. What the fuck does that mean? Y/N has never.." The guitarist said, standing up and walking out the door shutting the bedroom door behind him.

"Oh, that's going to keep him in a good mood for the day," You mumbled, stepping out of the bathroom.

You headed toward the door hearing the harsh whispering in the hallway, making you groan out in frustration. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door seeing Paul leaning against the wall with his face twisted up in anger. He looked over and held his finger up as you motioned to the nursery stepping in the room quickly. Evan looked up at you with a marker in his hand and black streaks across his face, hands, and white t-shirt. You stood with your hands on your hips, trying not to laugh at the sight of the toddler. The toddler turned back to his page, acting as if everything was just as normal as before.

"Did you color on yourself? You asked, bending down next to the little boy.

"Nope, Daddy did," Evan replied.

"Oh, Daddy drew all over your shirt too? You countered as the bedroom door opened, revealing a frustrated Paul.

"What am I getting blamed for now? The singer asked,

"Daddy colored on me!" Evan shrieked

You stood against the dresser, watching as Paul walked further into the room, folding his arms in front of his chest staring down at the toddler. Evan stood up from his spot on the floor and mimicked his father's exact move making you cover your mouth to stop yourself from going into a fit of laughter of the exchange between the two boys. Paul looked from his son and back at you, waving his finger at you to silence you.

"Son, Give me your markers and paper right now. You're grounded from coloring," Paul replied sternly.

"NO! I color!" The toddler fired back, hiding the paper behind his back.

"Evan Shane Stanley. Enough. Let's get cleaned up to go back to your mother's." The singer replied, with the calm look dancing across his face.

You watched as the toddler's chin started quivering, and he handed his art supplies to Paul. You quickly grabbed diaper wipes for the singer. You traded them for the art supplies before fast walking out of the room with everything. You shook your head at the whole exchange that had taken place between the two of them. The singer's reaction had surprised you yet reminded you of how your dad had been with both you and your brother, never having to raise his voice to get his point across to the two of you. You headed down the stairs toward the kitchen. You put the toddler's projects away in the designated drawer, hearing the sound of Paul's boots.

"Y/N? Where did you go?" Paul called.

"Kitchen, just tidying up his stuff," You replied.

Paul came down the stairs holding a tear-stained face Evan in his arms, making your heartbreak slightly at sight. The singer attempted to kiss the toddler's head but was stopped by Evan pushing his dad's face away from him immediately. Paul let out a deep breath and sat the boy on the couch, walking away quickly toward the kitchen as you heard the singer count softly to himself. You walked over and wrapped your arms around your boyfriend, hugging him tightly for a moment, feeling him relax for a moment.

"Is this really just about him coloring on himself, or did she say something that just made that situation worse than it needed to be?" You asked, pulling away.

"Well, yes and no. The coloring thing has just gotten too out of hand. I didn't even know Evan had that stuff up there, though his mother didn't help my attitude. ." Paul sighed.

"She's pissed about me being back here, by the sounds of it," You replied

"There's a lot that happened the night of your accident that I don't want to upset you with, but for now, you can't be with me when I drop off or pick up Evan," Paul replied, frowning slightly.

"Oh," You shrugged, looking at the ground.

"It has nothing to do with you, sweetheart. Don't stress yourself out, okay. How about this? We will go out on the town this afternoon or tonight, then go do my big plan in another week? Gives me more time to surprise you," The guitarist replied, grabbed your chin to look at him.

The two of you stared at each other for a moment, and you nodded your head in reply, unsure if you would be able to form a complete sentence. A straightforward look or word from Paul could turn you into putty in his hands and twisted up the fuel of a desire for the man. The singer leaned down and kissed you softly, lingering against your lips for a moment.

"Save that thought for later," He whispered in your ear.

Paul slapped your ass and walked back toward the couch where Evan was still pouting. You watched as the singer knelt down in front of the toddler and held his arms open for the boy to come. The toddler looked from you to his father, wiping his eyes slightly while he made a decision. Evan bounced off the couch into his dad's arm, knocking the guitarist to the ground with a laugh as they both began wrestling around for a moment. Finally, Paul stood up and held the toddler against his hip with one hand while trying to brush his black hair out of his face.

"Alright, my boy! Tell Y/N bye," Paul told the toddler.

"Bye-bye, Y/N, I love you," Evan replied, blowing a kiss.

"Aww, bye-bye, buddy, I love you too. I'll see you in a week," You replied.

Paul kissed your cheek quickly and headed toward the car with Evan, leaving you standing at the door. You gave one last wave goodbye before you shut the door, grinning softly to yourself. You headed toward the couch and grabbed the remote as you wrapped yourself in the blanket, deciding to relax while waiting for the guitarist to come back. You tried to focus on some random talk show as your eyelids grew heavy, pulling you into a fast sleep.