The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals One-Shots

Tiny Part 2

"Babe, I need your help!" Emma called from the kitchen.

"With?" Paul called back, taking a break from typing his report.

"I can't reach the chips" Emma whined pitifully.

"Is that all?" He laughed, putting his laptop aside.

"Stop laughing at me!"

"Sorry cutie. I'm coming now"

"No you're not. I'm gonna do this on my own and I'm gonna prove a point" Emma yelled back before he could even begin to stand up.

"Yeah? And how you gonna do that?"

Silence.

"Em?"

More silence.

"Emma"

Sighing, Paul pulled himself off the couch, making his way towards the kitchen. He naturally feared the worst. Unfortunately, his girlfriend wasn't the smartest person when it came to things like this, doing whatever she could to prove her point and prove people wrong.

"I'm walking into the kitchen" He called in warning when he reached the kitchen door, hoping that she'd come to her senses before he entered.

She didn't.

He entered the kitchen to be met with the sight of his girlfriend on top of a chair. She was stretched as much as humanly possible, her arms reaching as high as she could manage above her head and standing high on the balls of her feet.

"So help me god, get off that chair"

"No, I've almost got them and I'm not giving you the satisfaction of seeing me fail"

"Hun, this isn't a pride thing. I need you to get down"

"Why?"

"Because your balance still isn't very good on two feet standing on solid ground, let alone on an unstable surface on your toes. I don't want you to fall and hurt yourself"

"I'm not going to hurt myself, don't be ridiculous"

"Baby, get down"

"No"

"Yes"

"No"

"Please" Paul pleaded playfully, giving her a look he knew she usually couldn't resist.

"Don't give me those eyes. You're going to convince me to be civilized"

"Is it working?" He asked hopefully.

As Emma began to stand on one leg (Her bad one, mind you) the chair wobbled beneath her, causing her legs to shake from the effort of trying to remain upstanding. Her eyes went wide as she frantically gripped onto the closest shelf to stop herself from going anywhere. Paul put his hands on her waist to steady her.

"If you distract me I will hurt myself" Emma snapped, putting a hand over her heart.

"Sorry"

"You will be, now go away before you distract me more"

"Fine" Paul shook his head, putting his hands up in surrender as he left the room.

No less than two minutes after Paul walked out of the kitchen there was a small squeal and a thud.

"What's going on?"

"I fell off the chair"

"I would say I told you so but I'm worried now so... are you okay?" Paul asked, holding the bridge of his nose.

"I might be bleeding just a little"

"Oh my god"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"So, what did we learn today?"

"Don't stand on a chair to get chips with a bad leg and bad balance"

"And?"

"Let Paul get the chips for me"

"And?"

"I should listen to Paul when he tells me to get down"

"And why is that?"

"Because Paul isn't doing it to be mean, he's doing it to make sure I don't hurt myself"

"And what happened when we didn't listen to Paul?"

"I hurt myself"

"And what happens when you hurt yourself?"

"I get a band aid on my head which makes me look stupid"

"I was just going for that fact you get sad and sore but..."

Emma rolled her eyes.

"Kiss it better for me?" She asked cheekily. It was Paul's turn to roll his eyes now.

"Well, if you insist" He laughed, pressing a small kiss to the band aid on her forehead before planting a lingering one on her lips.

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Here's the part two I said I might publish. This is what Tiny was meant to be until I thought of what it actually is. Did that make sense?

To be honest I just ran out of time to write anything (Your girl went back to school and rehearsal this week after being off sick for like, ten days, and has realized how little time she actually has)

Also, thing I forgot to mention in the last chapter, who caught my That 70s Show reference?

And that's all for now, bye!