Paul Gets A Gifen

Chapter Three

I still hadn't been paying much attention to what was on the T.V.; every now and again I would look up at Paul. He had a very strong jawline that defined his face well. I caught myself staring, and whipped my head back around to look at the screen, sure that he had noticed me. I felt a rush of adrenaline course through my veins, but it was just nervous energy. I bounced my leg against the floor, trying to calm my nerves. Paul saw me.

"Hey," his voice sent shivers down my spine, "You sure you're alright? You look queasy."

"I-I'm fine," I coughed up. Unsurprisingly, he didn't believe me. He laughed softly.

"You're a really bad liar, you know. What's wrong? Do you need to go home?" He leaned closer to me. I felt like I was going to throw up, and I desperately wanted to go home to avoid further embarrassment, but at the same time I wanted to stay with him. Even if we weren't talking, I felt a strange kind of comfort being around him. How did I manage to feel so happy yet shitty around him? It didn't make any sense and I just felt so--

"Iracema?" I looked him in the eyes.

"H-huh?"

He smiled and sat back. "You space out a lot. Do you need to go home?"

"Um... N-no, I th-think I'm f-fine," I reassured him shakily, "I'm just... n-nervous, is all..."

"Yeah, I know you're a shy girl," he said. My cheeks grew red, and I noticed him smile wider. "We can just sit back and watch some more T.V. if you want. I won't make you open up, but I'll be here if you decide to."

He turned towards the T.V. screen, but I just froze up. No one had ever really been that understanding of my anxiety before. I felt grounded, almost, and breathed a sigh of relief, feeling like some of the weight had been lifted off my shoulders. 

"Um, Paul?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks..."

He turned, "For what?"

"For being so understanding..." I looked down.

"Of course," he said. I looked up at him again and scooted a little closer to where he was sitting. Of course I didn't immediately go back to feeling fine, but when he talked it reminded me that he was, you know, a person, and I didn't have to feel so nervous around him. I still bit my tongue, though, because I was sure that this feeling would fade soon enough.

A few more minutes had passed, and I noticed Paul unzip his hoodie and sit it next to him. Oh my G-d. I had to leave now. He was wearing a tight red t-shirt that showed off how muscular he was. He had large biceps and such tight abs-

Before I could think of something gross, someone knocked on the door. Paul got up to answer it, and while his back was turned to me, I'll admit, I stared at his ass. He opened the door, but from where I was I couldn't see who it was. Paul said something to the person on the other side before walking back in with two boxes of pizza, shutting the door with his foot. He sat the boxes down on the coffee table.

"I'll be right back with some plates," he said before walking into the kitchen. My stomach growled- Had I eaten today? Paul sat down next to me and handed me a paper plate before opening the first box. I figured I didn't really eat much with as much as I salivated at the sight of pizza. It looked so good. My stomach growled again. Paul laughed and put a slice of pizza on my plate.

"Thanks," I said softly. Paul took a piece and managed to snarf it down in one sitting while I took a few small bites. I was so hungry, though, and when he wasn't looking, I snuck one of his slices and ate it rather quickly. I kept sneaking glances at him every now and again, wanting to say something and strike up a conversation, but nothing ever came out of my mouth. 

A few hours had passed, and I assumed Selena had come home by now. Paul and I hadn't said much anyways, so I decided to go ahead and go home. As soon as I turned to say something, though, someone walked through the front door.

"Oh, hey, Pat," Paul said to the man, waving. 

"Hey," he responded. He looked tired and annoyed, like he had just come home from a long day of work. He kicked off his boots and trudged into the kitchen. Paul turned to me.

"That's my roommate, Patryck," he explained, "He's a pilot, so sometimes he comes home tired and pissy."

"You'd be pissy too if you had to fly a shitty plane for fifteen hours," Patryck interjected. He walked back into the living room and took one of the boxes of pizza into the kitchen.

"Hey, I paid for that!" Paul said, but Patryck ignored him. "Oh, yeah," he turned back to me, half-joking, "Sometimes he's an asshole."

I giggled, and stood up.

"I better get home," I smiled weakly, looking at the floor, "It was nice to meet you."

"It was nice to meet you, too! Here, before you go," Paul grabbed his phone and stood up, "Let me give you my number so we can text. I'd like to hang out with you again sometime soon." My face turned beet red and out of surprise I looked up at him. I shakily grabbed my phone and we exchanged phone numbers; I was probably the sweatiest I had ever been, and my knees buckled as he typed in his number. He handed me my phone back and smiled, making direct eye contact with me. My breath hitched. He texted me a smiley face before putting his phone back in his pocket.

"Text me back when you get a chance, and maybe we can meet up again," he said.

"O-okay, s-sure," I stuttered. Paul walked me to the door.

"You know, I'd really like to see you out of your shell. I bet you're really cool, you're just hiding out on me," he teased, poking my shoulder. I almost yelped at the touch. It was sudden, but... nice? I grinned.

"Heh, yeah..."

Paul got the door for me, and I walked out into the hallway. I turned to wave goodbye.

"See you around, Ira," he said before smiling and shutting the door softly. I stood against the wall and clutched my chest, overwhelmed. My body felt exhausted and the butterflies felt like they were eating my insides, and a small part of me felt so silly for gushing like a schoolgirl. But the other part of me really didn't care. I wanted him to kiss me so badly.

. . .