Heartbreak Weather || ᴺⁱᵃˡˡ ᴴᵒʳᵃⁿ

𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

05. 𝘓𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘕𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘛𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨

It all just seemed to blur together: this last week of late nights writing songs, rewriting, and caffeine upon caffeine. Now, sitting in the dim of our living room, I look down at my notebook and realize, well, it's done. The whole album's done. I blink, like it hasn't properly sunk in.

In an instant, I spring up, race down the hall, burst into our bedroom: Paul half-asleep, sprawled out in bed, looking so peaceful-a pang of my guilt hits me at waking him. It gets too strong, this bubbling of excitement within me.

"Paul!" I whisper-shout, practically jumping up and down.

His eyes spring open, and he leans his body on his elbow, first appearing confused but then amused: "Fallon? It's, like, 3 a.m. What's going on?

"It's done," I say, and my voice barely comes out. "The album—it's finished."

He stares at me for a second, and then a huge smile spreads across his face. He is awake now, sitting up and reaching out to me. "Really?

I nod, under the laughter, and throw myself onto the bed beside him. He wraps his arms around me, holding tight as I melt into the moment. "I just can't believe it," I whisper finally as the exhaustion mingles with the relief.

"You're amazing," he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. "I knew you'd pull it off."

We stay there in the silence a while longer, entangled in each other's arms. The quiet of the apartment-the hum of the city outside, and this wave of calm washes over me, the complete opposite of the frantic energy that has consumed me over the past few days.

He pulls back after a few minutes and says with a grin, "This calls for a celebration. Let's get out tomorrow, eh? A coffee run? Leave the apartment, have some actual fresh air, and get you some non-instant caffeine for once."

I nod, laughing, and settle back into the pillows. "Yes, please."

——

The next morning, Paul and I take off, holding hands, to a small coffee shop just a block away from the apartment. This week's weight really begins to lift, to be replaced by that simple uncomplicated joy of being together. We find a little table by the window at the café, sitting down-I settle into my seat across from him-while we wait for orders.

"I'm so bloody proud of you, Fal," he says, leaning over the table and squeezing my hand. "I've seen you put your heart and soul into this album. I knew you could pull it off."

"Thanks," I say softly, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "It's just. surreal, you know? It's like I have been carrying this weight, and now it's on the page.

He nods, with a knowing glance in his eyes. "So, now what? Let go loose?

I laugh. "Maybe. For a day or two, anyway." Smiling slightly, I add, "Actually, I was thinking about the collaborations. I've already reached out to Sab, Taylor, Billie, and Niall to see if they want to get together and workshop ideas."

Paul's smile flickers for just a moment, his eyebrow going up; his tone shifts ever so slightly. "Oh... Niall too?

"Yeah," I exclaim, nodding excitedly. "Can you even imagine? Them being featured on the album? It's actually crazy.

He nods slowly, wordlessly, still smiling, though he now appears to be somewhat lost in thought. "Yeah... that's nice." He looks down into his coffee for a moment, and a little silence falls.

I squeeze his hand, reassuring him. "It's going to be out of this world, Paul; it's going to be something peculiar.

He finally looks up and smiles, but there is almost something in his eyes, a little uncertainty or perhaps something more. I reach across the table, brushing his hand lightly, hoping he can feel with all the craziness of the music world how much he means to me.

——

I sit back on my couch at home with a guitar and just let my fingers fall upon a chord while I am thinking of different sounds and vibes I want on this album. The possibility of working with artists you have listened to your whole life-that's the greatest dream. I'm already playing around with new melodies, trying to imagine how each artist might add his or her touch.

I take my phone and send Sab a quick message:

Fally 😈
Hey pooks you just finished writing the songs for the album, we need to meet up and get in the studio to start recording ideas! 😘😘

Sabby 😍
AHHH WHAT OMG Fal I'm so proud of you, I actually can't wait to see the songs you've written for the album and can't wait to start recording. Love you pooks 🥰

I laugh, and that buzz of excitement surges again. Before I know it, I'm firing off similar messages to Taylor, Billie, and Niall-just checking in and making plans. My heart pounds just a little bit faster as I get to Niall's message, the realization kicking in that this casual Grammys conversation has somehow led here: an actual opportunity to work with him. The teenager inside me would be absolutely freaking out.

I set my phone down as Paul fills the doorway with a sleepy grin. "Guess you're not taking much of a break after all, huh?

"Hey, I'm trying," I say, smirking as I strum a few notes. "But it's just... too exciting to stop."

He bends at the waist, crossing over the room, and sits next to me. "Well, then, let me be some company. Show me what you have so far? I strummed a few chords, humming some rough melody as he listened, his head bopping to the rhythm. His quiet encouragement was all I needed. We sat this way for an hour, his listening and my playing, lost in that moment. By the time we retired, I could feel the weight lifting off and, in those places where it had occupied a steady, quiet happiness. The album was complete; the collaborations in motion; I had Paul here beside me, supporting me every step of the way. There's a shift in the air as I set my guitar down, a tense undercurrent that's always present beneath the surface. Paul's fingers trace a line down my arm, the touch lingering as his eyes search mine, and suddenly I can feel the weight of what he's been carrying unsaid. Fallon," he says in this low-almost hesitant tone, "I'm proud of you-more than you know. It's just." His words just die off, and I catch that shadow of something, that something so vulnerable, and he looks to be holding it back. I reach up, my thumb gently brushing his cheek, and I whisper, "Paul, you're with me in all this; it's always been you and me.".

His expression softens, and he lets out a breath, pulling me closer. And then, without another word, his lips meet mine. The world narrows to just this: the warmth of his kiss, his hands moving to my waist, drawing me in as my fingers knot in his hair.

Still wrapped in each other, we stumble backward toward the bedroom, making our way down the hall without breaking the kiss, laughter slipping between us. Once we reach the bedroom, he pulls me closer, and for a while, everything outside these four walls fades away.

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐘 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒!

Y'all I barely even wrote anything for that end part and it still felt so awkward. But anyway I was supposed to publish this last night sorry x and sorry for not updating the past couple of days I've been so busy with school and finding work experience.
Also why am I feeling like this chapter sucks