#julia duchelli
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Thank you for the tags, @theosconfessions and @lynzishell 💕
I'm going to tag @hannahssimblr @budgie2budgie @elderwisp @igotsnothing @armoricaroyalty @nexility-sims @earthmoonz @theplottdump as well as anyone else who wants to do this ❤️
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Chapter 43.4
The skies are darkening as I walk home from the food stall, carrying what is – despite the time – technically my breakfast. Hot steam is wafting up from the flimsy plastic bags in my hand, warming my cold fingers.
I’m still not used to San Myshuno’s seasons, but Samara told me that it’s unusually cold for being this late in Spring. In a way, it feels like the city has decided to match my mood, as if the dark and dreary weather is being sympathetic to how I feel.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and a robotic voice jarringly interrupts a sad love ballad to flatly announce that dad is calling. I sigh and tap my headphones, he’ll just call again later if I don’t pick up now.
“Hey, honey!”
My father’s voice is warm and comforting like a blanket, and I can hear faint birdsong and the rustling of the trees in the backyard. I briefly wish I could just move back home and be a kid again and leave all the worries to my parents.
“Hi, dad. How are you guys? House still standing?”
“We’re good, Kieran and Liam are busy worrying about prom so it’s been unusually quiet. Oh, and speaking of standing, Grayson can stand by himself now. He can even take a few steps as long as he’s holding on to something.”
He sounds so proud, almost as if he was the one learning to walk.
“Aww, he’s getting so big! Next thing you know, you’ll all be chasing him around the house every time they visit.”
“I’ll make sure to have your mother send you some pictures of him when I get back inside. She’s busy in the kitchen, Griffin and Daria are coming over for dinner. But how are you? We barely hear from you these days.”
“Oh, you know, I’m really busy with work and hanging out with people and such. I’ve just been out shopping for dinner, and then I’m seeing a friend later.”
I hear him hesitate, like he can tell that I’m lying.
“Alright. That sounds good. We’ve been a little worried about you. And especially today…”
“I know, it was really rough in the beginning, but I swear I’m doing fine, I-”
My voice breaks and I stop in the middle of the sidewalk and take a deep breath to get it under control.
“Oh, honey. Listen, sometimes relationships don’t work out, no matter how much you love each other. I can see where Paul was coming from, and your mother and I have been worried that you’d feel pressured into something you weren’t ready for. So I want you to know that we’re really impressed that you’re staying true to yourself. It can be… very hard to do the right thing when you love someone, I know that. So I’m proud of you.”
“I just miss him so much, dad.”
“I know. But maybe you don’t really miss Paul. Maybe you just miss a version of him in your head that he failed to live up to. If Paul Romeo was really so perfect, he wouldn’t have made my daughter so sad.”
My father reminds me to take care of myself and I promise to call more often before I end the call and pick up the pace slightly just as the rain starts falling.
I manage to make it home before getting too wet, but it’s still a relief to step inside the warm apartment.
My laptop sits on the dining table, and I eye it warily as if the deluge of messages could somehow escape containment and drown me.
I unpack my food and try to ignore the state of my kitchen. I don’t have the energy to deal with it right now, so I just kick off my shoes and take my food to the couch as usual.
I text Marten and eat a few bites while I wait. He replies almost instantly and within minutes, he’s online. It’s becoming my favourite part of the day.
We play for a few hours, and I almost forget to be sad. Marten never mentions Paul, he just talks about normal things like what the other guys in his fraternity are up to, his studies, new games he’d like to play. Easy topics. He’s also good at carrying the conversation when I’m quiet, like tonight.
Marten probably doesn’t even know what day it is today, and somehow that makes it easier.
Eventually, though, he has to leave. He tends to go to bed early, even on weekends, and I promise him to get some sleep too. My barely touched food has congealed into a solid cube in the box and I leave it on the table and try to decide how to spend the rest of the night. As if I don’t already know.
Finally, I give in.
I open my laptop, ignoring the notifications about the thousands of unread messages. I thought the sudden influx of hate-mail was bad when my relationship with Paul was discovered, but it has been nothing compared to after the news of the breakup.
I know I shouldn’t, know I’m just picking at the wounds, but my fingers move on their own, out of habit, and pure muscle memory is making them type Paul’s name into the search bar. All the links are already purple, of course, there is nothing new here, but I still click the first one. It takes me to his Social Bunny profile. Paul was never that active on social media, and his latest post is several weeks old.
I know it by heart.
“In response to the recent speculation, I want to clarify that Julia and I parted ways a while back. She’s an incredibly gifted and wonderful person, and I truly wish the best for her.”
The best.
“But you were the best,” I whisper.
I feel like crying, but it seems like I’ve finally run out of tears, emptied the reservoirs over the last couple of months, and now all that’s left inside of me is dust.
I go back and click the second link, then the third, cycling through the old articles and interviews as if I’m expecting to find something I haven’t seen a hundred times.
Samara and Miranda are probably having drinks at The Rooftop right now. Samara texted me an hour ago, asking me if I was sure I didn’t want to go out with them instead of stalking my ex for once. I replied with another lame excuse. I’ve been avoiding people for so long that it feels like I’ve forgotten how to function in society, like some sort of feral raccoon who only knows how to hide and eat trash.
I’ve gone through all the links. I refresh the search page. Nothing has changed, obviously, but I refresh it again and again, feeling like I’m desperately knocking on his door and trying to be let in. Then I start over at the first link.
“In response to the recent speculation, I want to clarify that Julia and I parted ways a while back. She’s an incredibly gifted and wonderful person, and I truly wish the best for her.”
Samara is right, I can’t keep doing this. It’s crazy. There’s only one thing to do. I move my cursor over the red button and take a deep breath. Then I block his profile before I can change my mind.
As his picture vanishes, the entire screen blurs. It would seem that I still have some tears left.
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#duchellilegacy#duchellichapters#duchelligen5#julia duchelli#it's been 84 years#so sorry#changing up my entire style takes time
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... the haunting question of "what if" in the quiet of the night.
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Chapter 43.2
Paul was gone. But I wasn’t heartbroken.
I was the daughter of a doctor, after all, and I knew that hearts don’t break.
Bones break.
But hearts?
Hearts are a muscle.
They tear, a slow agonising stretch of fibres fraying as they’re pulled apart under the weight of loss.
They rupture, leaving ragged edges in the tissue of our very being.
They bruise, the dull ache a constant reminder that something integral has been damaged, crushed by forces it was never meant to withstand.
Hearts don’t break.
Because a break sounds too clean, too easy, for what this was.
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Chapter 43.1
Midnight Blues
Winter was slowly relaxing its grip on the city. I stared at the grey skies and took a deep breath to steel myself. As always, getting from the hotel to the safety of a taxi was the scary part. Behind me, Paul was putting on his coat.
“Julia? Got everything?”
“Yeah, let’s go. But first…”
I moved in to kiss him and he kissed me back, the kind of kiss that reminded me why I kept doing this, why I put up with the endless hotels and paparazzi and anxiety. His hands were on my waist and I wished we had more time, that we didn’t have to keep saying goodbye every week.
He started pulling away but I wasn’t done, I would never be done with him, and I couldn’t help but make a small frustrated sound that made him smile.
“Wait, Julia, before we leave… You’re so very distracting, I completely forgot to talk to you about my birthday.”
“Your birthday? But that’s in what, two months?”
“I know, but since it’s the big 40, I was thinking about going to Tartosa for a few days, throw a party for the whole family. And I thought it’d be a good time for you to meet everyone. I know it’s a lot of people at once, but they’re going to adore you, I know they will.”
“Ah. Right.” My mouth went dry. Paul reached up and ran his fingers through my hair, looking slightly puzzled.
“Julia? Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, it’s just… it’s a big step, meeting your entire family. It feels so… serious.”
He frowned. His eyes, usually warm and inviting, suddenly had a wary edge that made my heart race.
“Yes? I am quite serious about this. About us. I thought I’d made that clear. I love you and I imagine a future with you in it.”
I swallowed hard, feeling the words catch in my throat.
“I love you too, Paul, I really do, but…” My voice trailed off as I searched for the right words. “I’m just not sure if I’m ready for things to get that serious.”
He lifted my chin, his eyes searching mine. “Julia… tell me, what exactly did you expect from this relationship?”
“I… I just wanted to be with you.”
He took a step back and it felt like an invisible wall had suddenly appeared between us.
“But for how long? Why are you still in this relationship if you’re not planning to be in it for the long haul? What are we doing here, Julia?”
Tears stung my eyes as I struggled to respond. I loved him, but the thought of deciding what the rest of my life would look like scared me more than I could express.
“I don’t know, Paul. I want to be with you, but I’m still figuring things out. I’m just… I’m not ready for that kind of commitment yet.”
There was a long, painful silence before Paul spoke again, quietly, his voice tinged with resignation.
“I can’t wait around forever, Julia. I’m sorry, but I need more than this, more than you’re able to give me right now. I think… I think it’s best if we part ways.”
I felt a wave of despair as the reality of his words sank in, threw my arms around him as if I could physically stop him from leaving me.
“No! No, Paul, wait, please, can’t we just…” I desperately tried to think of something to say, some magic words that would change his mind, but I knew it was useless. The deep sorrow in his voice told me that he’d already made his decision.
Paul held me for a moment, but his body felt different against me now, distant and foreign like he was already a stranger. I breathed in the familiar scent of citrus and olive soap on his skin, clung to him until he gently but firmly removed my arms from around his neck.
“I get it, Julia. You’re right, you deserve space to find yourself without the pressure of my… expectations. You’re still so young, and you have every right to take your time. But I can’t wait in limbo. I have to move on.”
I sobbed into his chest, barely able to form words.
“Paul, don’t leave me. Don’t. Please. I love you.”
His voice was soft when he continued, but the finality in his words echoed in the hollow where my heart used to be.
“I love you too, Julia. So much. But I can’t spend years waiting for someone who has no idea whether they’ll ever want to be with me or not. I want someone who knows.”
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When Marten realised that it was my first time at GeekCon, he appointed himself my official tour guide.
I decided to let him. He was cute in a geeky way, and I missed having a nice boy pay attention to me. I hadn’t dated anyone since my ex Oscar went to uni, and the creepy DMs from random people definitely didn’t count.
The first booth was a promotion for Dusk Glow 2: Moonrise. Marten ignored the two people dressed up as vampires and kept going.
“Not a fan of vampire romance?”
He waved a hand dismissively.
“Nah, I mostly read serious fantasy, and this is a bit too much for me, you know? I want A Song of Hot and Cold, not Wands of Desire.”
I made a mental note to pick up a copy when Marten wasn’t around. I also decided not to mention that I owned all forty-three books in the Wands of Desire series and had pre-ordered the forty-fourth.
Suddenly, a booming voice rang through the gallery.
“Stop right there, Black Shadow! What devilish scheme have you cooked up this time?”
At the next booth, someone dressed as Llama Man was pointing at me.
“Ah, Llama Man, my arch-nemesis. You always were quick to spoil my fun.”
The man smirked under the mask.
“Typical. I should’ve known you’d try to crash the party.”
I strode towards him, returning the smile.
“Oh, I intend to do more than crash it. What are you going to do about it, alpaca boy?”
“We all know how this ends, Black Shadow! With you behind bars!”
“Is that so? You’d have to catch me first!”
I blew him a kiss, and he smiled broadly and started walking around the table.
I quickly turned and ran.
He sprinted after me as other con-goers turned and stared.
“Fear not, citizens! Llama Man shall not rest until Black Shadow is brought to justice!”
A few people laughed and cheered, and I ran to the end wall and turned around.
“Blasted! A dead end! You win this time, Llama Man!”
He came closer, laughing as he pulled off his mask.
“You truly are a villain. Don’t make an old man run like that, I’m not quite in movie shape these days.”
I was shocked for a moment. I thought he was just another cosplayer. Did I just make Paul Romeo himself chase me through the Casbah Gallery?
“You look great, I mean, you look in great shape to me. I mean…”
I blushed helplessly as he sent me a dazzling smile. Then he leaned in and lowered his voice, gently lifting my chin.
“You know, sometimes heroes and villains have more in common than they realise.”
My eyes flickered to his mouth, now so close I could feel his breath on my skin with every word. Silly costume or not, Paul Romeo definitely still had it.
He continued softly. “They are both driven by passion… by the thrill of the chase.”
Then he pulled back, a playful twinkle in his eyes.
“Sadly, it seems fate had other plans for us, Black Shadow, and I don’t want to be another has-been actor who dates women half my age. Besides, I think your companion is getting impatient.”
I had forgotten all about Marten.
He was staring at us, his face unreadable.
Paul gave my hand a brief squeeze.
“Until we meet again, Black Shadow.”
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#duchellilegacy#duchellichapters#duchelligen5#julia duchelli#marten rouse#paul romeo#llama man has arrived!
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“Mr. Romeo? Lee Thompson is at the gate.”
“Thanks, Jeff. Ask him if he brought any new tunes for the party.”
“Mr. Thompson, any fresh melodies for tonight?”
“Only if Paul promises not to sing along this time!”
“He’s brought harsh truths, Mr. Romeo.”
“Ouch. We better let him in, Jeff. And tell him my singing’s improved!”
Paul turned from the intercom, still chuckling, and pulled me close.
“Now, remember,” he urged softly, “You’re just meeting my friends. There’s no need to be nervous, they’re very nice and they’ll adore you.”
“I’ll try. It’s just that all your friends are major celebrities.”
He smiled and tucked a few stray hairs behind my ear.
“They’re also just people. There’s nothing to worry about. We’re going to have fun.”
I nodded and kissed him, trying to ignore the way my heart felt ready to leap out of my chest. I wasn’t even sure what I worried about the most, the fact that these people were famous, or that they were Paul’s closest friends. What would they think of him being with someone like me?
Lee Thompson exuded the same intensity he brought to his music. He’d composed some of the most memorable scores of the last two decades, including the original Llama Man theme tune and the new version for the animated series. He moved gracefully, like a dancer, and his handshake was surprisingly gentle. I thanked him for more or less writing the soundtrack to my entire childhood, realising only too late what I was implying, but he was delighted and didn’t seem to notice.
I’d barely recovered from my embarrassment before Jeff announced the next arrivals, and Lee sauntered off to open the champagne.
I clung to Paul’s arm as Sierra Moss and her husband, Dave Richardson, entered. Somehow, I even managed to mumble a polite greeting.
Dave’s smile was warm and welcoming. “It’s good to meet you. Paul has told us so much about you.”
Sierra laughed. “In fact, he never shuts up about you.”
Meeting Sierra Moss felt surreal. I had seen all of her movies, I even had a poster of her in Cop & Llama on my walls at home. Well, Dave was technically on the poster as well, but the llama costume meant that he wasn’t as instantly recognisable as Sierra, especially since he’d stayed on the other side of the cameras since the series ended. Sierra, on the other hand, had starred in dozens of movies and was a household name.
I straightened my back and desperately hoped that I looked like someone who was both a proper adult and perfectly chill about the fact that my childhood idol was standing in front of me and teasing my boyfriend about thinking he could keep me a secret for long.
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#duchellilegacy#duchellichapters#duchelligen5#julia duchelli#paul romeo#lee thompson#jeff the security guard#sierra moss#dave richardson
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Five days later I found myself back in Paul’s arms. I’d been looking forward to seeing him again, but also slightly worried that it wouldn’t be quite the same, that the connection we shared for one night couldn’t bear closer scrutiny.
But there had been no need to worry. He walked out of the airport and put his arms around me, kissing me passionately before quickly pulling me into a taxi so we wouldn’t be seen by too many people.
It didn’t take long before Paul would fly in from Del Sol Valley almost every weekend, spending as much time as possible with me before flying back for work.
During the week, our days and nights were filled with messages and phone calls, both of us hating every second apart, always waiting impatiently for the next weekend so we could see each other again.
Paul was great at finding secluded spots where he could be anonymous, away from prying eyes. We would go to botanical gardens at night, long walks just talking and holding hands.
Sometimes we’d rent a car and go on long midnight drives with no destination in mind, just getting out of the city and enjoying the last warm summer nights and each other’s company.
He insisted on trying to teach me a Tartosan dance that his father taught him when he was younger, his eyes sparkling as I did my best to follow the complicated footwork.
As the weather got colder, we could spend entire days in small book cafés and read each other passages from our favourite books, and I’d make him do different voices for every character.
It didn’t really matter what we did, as long as I was with him.
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By the time we entered Paul’s hotel room, the atmosphere had shifted. The lively energy from GeekCon and our animated conversation outside seemed worlds away, replaced by a nervous tension.
Paul took my coat and gestured at the sofa. I had a look around the room while he closed the blinds. Zenview Heights Hotel was old but well kept, and while the furniture was somewhat dated, it was neat and clean.
Paul’s suitcase and a few items of clothing had been placed in the wardrobe, but it was clear that this was a short stay. Most of his things hadn’t even been unpacked.
Over the bed, a picture best described as an art was clinging to the wall like it knew exactly how badly it was failing its sole purpose of being decorative.
Paul followed my gaze.
“If I’d known I would get company, I’d have chosen a fancier hotel.”
“It’s fine. I’m not here for the decor.”
He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture I was already beginning to recognise as one he made when he was nervous.
“I’m gonna be completely honest, Julia, I have no idea why I let you come back here with me. I wasn’t expecting my day to end like this.”
I laughed. “What? You didn’t expect to – let me see – meet a random cosplayer, chase her through GeekCon, have dinner with her, talk to her all evening, and then bring her back to your hotel room?”
He chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “Exactly. Despite all the hypothetical scenarios I imagine on a daily basis, I never saw that particular chain of events coming. But I’m still glad our paths crossed.”
He threw his jacket over a chair and sat down, and I felt the unmistakable pull of attraction between us. It was almost too much. I tried to lighten the mood.
“Tell me, are you always this intense, or am I just special?”
He smirked, playing along.
“Well, you do make a compelling argument for special. I can’t recall the last time I felt so drawn to someone.”
The compliment made me giddy, but I also sensed his hesitation.
“But?”
He sighed.
“Look, Julia, you’re incredibly attractive, smart, and funny. But I was actually serious about not dating women half my age… the last thing I want is for you to feel like I’m taking advantage of you.”
“Paul, I’m an adult. I make my own choices. I very much chose to be here, in fact I basically followed you home like a stray cat. I appreciate the chivalry, but you can safely drop it.”
His lips quirked up. “I can’t. I’m a superhero, remember?”
“Well, I’m here now. What are you going to do about it?”
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How it started vs How it's going challenge: Pick an arc in your story, and pick the best screenshots of the start to present. Pass it on!
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After the main course, Paul went to the kitchen to get the dessert ready before midnight. I excused myself and said I needed some fresh air.
I had been to Del Sol Valley a few times when I was little, visiting my grandparents, but I didn’t remember much about the city itself.
The back of Paul’s mansion was the only thing not surrounded by fences, and the view was both breathtaking and terrifying. Bright lights as far as the eye could see, occasional premature fireworks going off, faint background noise from traffic that never stopped.
It felt like we were gilded birds in a cage up here, always on display yet forever out of reach.
I couldn’t imagine anything further from Copperdale and the quiet, snow-covered forests around it.
I wondered if Paul would expect me to move in with him at some point. I didn’t see how he’d be able to work from anywhere else. I could work wherever, but could I live here? Surrounded by fences and cameras and security guards in a huge, empty house?
I pushed the thought away as I heard the clacking of heels behind me.
“Julia, can I talk to you for a moment?”, Sierra asked softly. “I would really like to apologise for what I said earlier. It was never my intention to insult you.”
“I know you didn’t mean it like that, but I still can’t help feeling that you don’t like me very much. Or maybe you just don’t think I’m good enough for Paul?”
Sierra bit her lip.
“I shouldn’t have brought up his exes, especially not in front of you. The thing is, they rarely lasted long enough for the media to catch on – half the time I didn’t even get to meet them before he ended things. So when Paul first told us about you, I got worried. I saw him falling harder and faster than ever before, but you’re so much younger than him and I was struggling to see how it could possibly end well.”
“Right. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“I’m just being honest with you. I tend to be, perhaps, overly protective of Paul. He was even younger than you when we met, we shared a shitty apartment with a few other aspiring actors, all trying to break through. We cheered each other on, audition after audition, practicing lines, commiserating over rejection letters… And then he got the call for Llama Man, and I ended up as an extra in a cop series which later got me the lead in Cop & Llama, but I’ve fought hard to escape that, branch out to other roles, and Paul just… didn’t even try.”
“But he says he prefers the voice acting, though. If you’re his friend, why do you keep pushing him if he’s perfectly happy?”
“Because I’m his friend. Sure, he says he’s happy. Maybe he even believes it. But Paul was always the best of us, and he never took his talent seriously. He’s a great voice actor, but it always felt like he secretly wanted more, he’s just scared. What if he sucked? The media would have a field day, writing about how he should just stick to his cartoons. You’ve seen what they’re like, you just had your first front page. Which, by the way, must be rough. I’m sorry for adding to the stress you must be under right now. Can we maybe start over?”
“Apology accepted, I’m too much of a fangirl to be mad at you anyway. And I’m managing, but I must say, being on the cover of a magazine is a lot less fun than advertised.”
“Trust me, it depends heavily on the kind of magazine. But being hung out to dry by some gossip rag is a rite of passage in this business. You should have seen the frenzy when rumours about me and Dave started circulating. It was wild. I once walked out of an interview because they asked me if the llama costume stayed on during sex!”
“Well? Did it ever?”
Sierra grinned.
“No way – do you have any idea how heavy and warm that costume is? It’s not exactly a sexy superhero muscle suit, it’s a full size sports mascot.”
“True. Although I’m not sure I’d appreciate it if Paul kept his costume on either.”
We both laughed, and I barely registered the steps behind me before I felt Pauls arms around me, his warm hands covering my eyes.
“Guess who.”
I heard Sierra chuckle. “Actually, Paul, we were kinda busy out here, bonding over the trials of dating men in llama costumes. It’s a very exclusive club.”
“I guess Dave and I have to start our own club then. But it's almost midnight and I would like to borrow my girlfriend, if you don’t mind.”
“Fine, you can have her back. I’ll just go get myself one of those fruit tarts before Lee and Dave eat them all.”
She walked back inside without waiting for a response.
She wouldn’t have gotten one anyway.
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The food was exquisite, Paul had been in the kitchen since he picked me up from the airport that morning. I had offered to help at first, but after despairing at my knife skills, he’d sat me on a chair with a glass of wine and begged me to only supervise from afar.
I guess he wasn’t joking about Tartosans taking their food seriously.
I’d been seated between Paul and Lee Thompson. Lee was very entertaining company. We’d discussed his music for a bit, I had told him my favourites, and he even complimented my dress. I was just beginning to relax a little when Sierra’s raised voice grabbed our attention.
“But you’re not even auditioning, Paul! You’re extremely talented, but you keep limiting yourself like this. You should be headlining!”
“And I’m telling you, Sierra, please leave it alone. I like what I’m doing.”
Next to me, Lee sighed.
“Here they go again,” he mumbled, and emptied his champagne flute.
“Paul, I’m not one of your nagging exes, I’m saying this because I care. And you will never hear me admit this in public, but you are a better actor than I am – if I could break out, so can you. You just need to actually try.”
I couldn’t help myself, her mention of Paul’s exes made me instantly defensive.
“Excuse me, Sierra, but if Paul wants to stick to voice acting, why is that a problem? He’s great at it.”
Sierra turned to me, her tone insultingly patient, like she was speaking to a child.
“With all due respect, Julia, you are very young and you have no idea how the industry works. Frankly, you barely know Paul. He could be doing so much better -”
She stopped abruptly. “I mean, in his career…”
Paul put a reassuring hand on mine.
“Sierra, I’d really appreciate it if you left the running of my life to me. Can we please change the subject and just enjoy the evening?”
Sierra gave a noncommittal shrug and impaled a piece of asparagus on her fork.
The conversation slowly started up again, and Lee started gushing to Paul about the delicious food, but I had lost my appetite.
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#duchellilegacy#duchellichapters#duchelligen5#julia duchelli#paul romeo#lee thompson#sierra moss#dave richardson
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The moment felt electric. Then Paul reached for me and I quickly climbed onto his lap, straddling his thighs, saw the brief flash of hesitation in his eyes.
Our lips met, and for a moment, everything stilled. It was a soft touch at first, a gentle exploration. But as the initial shock wore off, the kiss deepened, grew more urgent. I could taste the sweetness of his breath, feel the slight stubble on his jaw against my chin.
His fingers dug into my waist, pulling me impossibly closer. The world spun around us, but I was anchored to that moment, to that kiss.
When our lips finally parted, there was nothing hesitant left about Paul.
He stood up with me still in his arms, like I weighed nothing.
“If we’re doing this, we’re doing it properly.”
[spice below cut]
In three steps we were on the bed, stripping off most of each other’s clothes like our lives depended on it. But then, to my surprise, Paul slowed down.
I wasn’t exactly innocent. I may not have had any serious relationships since high school, but I’d still had my fair share of dates and one-night-stands.
None of them, nothing that I’d experienced before, could compare to Paul.
His mouth and hands taught me things about myself that I had never known, and I lost track of where my body ended and his body began.
Not that it mattered.
This was not the quick, ill-advised fling I had expected when I decided to go with him. This was different. Paul took his time, asked questions, and treated me like I was precious, important. Like I was someone.
He made me feel like I was worth loving, worth making love to, a phrase I’d never really understood before. But now it suddenly made sense, and I was surprised by the emotions he awakened in me, the deep feeling of connection between us.
That night, my world crashed into his, as different as they were.
It was the last moment before everything, back when I thought I might fall in love, but hadn’t yet felt the full force of it.
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