(Ease by Troye Sivan)

TWENTY-THREE: when you're not exactly John Bender

After a heated make-out session in which hands had roamed a little further than intended and I had to stop Paul's tattooed hands from making me more horny than I could actually handle, I proceeded to peel myself away to get ready for bed, my kicked no doubt darker than before.

He'd convinced me to stay the night, he'd lent me some sweatpants and I'd curled in beside him, Paul pulling me to his chest and forcing me to become the 'girl' but seriously, I didn't mind. It felt like we were dating, I wasn't insecure about him pressing against my body or scared of putting a label to myself or this relationship.

Being held by Paul felt amazing, his thumb drawing small circles on my arm as I felt content tucked against his chest, his head on my shoulder and lips on my neck.

He felt like serenity, he made me feel safe and I couldn't help but slow my heartbeat down to match his and at once, I felt the tempo of his heart thumping against my back and his breaths on my neck, causing goosebumps to rise. And I could feel it when his body finally went slack, when he'd fallen asleep and soft snores emitted from his body.

I tried to sleep as well, shutting my eyes as I pretended like nothing was wrong with my life but it all came rushing back. My parents were getting divorced, my family was falling apart. Its all my fucking fault. And I thought I was getting better at this breaking down thing... I honestly did but when I was alone, I seemed to fall apart. Endless serenades of how worthless I'd been and destructive I was; I was a disappointment to literally everyone and I hated it.

And my breathing became shallow as I cried for the second time that day, finally feeling content with the guilt.mOnly it wasn't a storm, it was barely a trickle as a shudder wracked through my body and a few tears escaped, Paul pulling me closer as he woke silently, mumbling soft nothings against my skin and kissing it to slow my breathing as he tried to lull me to sleep. "It's okay, you're okay."

I refused to speak -my voice failing me- as his arm came up to wrap around my shoulders and I held him there, placing a small kiss to his tattooed skin. I must've run out of tears.

And I felt at ease.

: : :

I'd been in the car with Paul the next day, his fingers laced through mine as we drove through the city on our way to my school. I'd been half past hallucination at the time but the beat thrumming through my chest from the feeling of his hand connected with mine was enough to keep me awake. I felt a jolt of energy as he ran his thumb carefully across mine and brought my hand up so he could press a small kiss to the skin.

I felt my face heat as he smiled, resting our hands back on the counsel and he continued to drive. I admired the way his jaw had clenched in concentration and his fingers flexed and curled around the steering wheel, brown eyes -clouded by contacts- calculating. But it was all over too soon as he pulled in the drop off section of my high school, my heart dropping at the fact that I'd be without Paul all day.

He must've sensed my anxiousness because I felt a squeeze on my hand before he sent me a comforting smile, rubbing at my knuckles, "have a good day, Jules."

It was a bit early considering the fact that he'd have to be at work at 7:30 so Paul had been dropping me off when barely anyone was around -at seven on the dot- and we'd have around ten minutes alone to be together before he'd have to leave. I didn't want him to leave.

I leaned my head back, reveling in being around the guy I liked and having him hold my hand and just being able to feel these things without guilt. Fuck, it felt good.

Since my mini-breakdown the night before, Paul had been a little more careful around me, not asking questions and just holding me when it looked like I wanted to be held. And he was always right, "What time does detention end?"

I wasn't expecting his soft voice to ring through the car but when it did, I peeked one eye open before the other, lifting my head to look straight at him, a habit my mother had gotten me into since pre-k. Apparently was polite to look someone in the eye when speaking to them and it just felt natural to stare straight at Paul.

When someone is speaking to you, you look them in the eye. I could still hear her voice in the back of my head introducing me to new members at the church each week. She would push my shin up with the tips of her fingers only once and if I'd lost interest, it would be followed by a slight pinch.

Shrugging, I waved him off; Paul didn't have to go out of his way to pick me up everyday. I felt as if I was wasting his gas, "Four but you don't have to pick me up, Ben's gonna be there too. I'll just catch a ride with him."

"I'll pick you up at four."

The way he'd said it, so bluntly, so assuring just made my heart pound faster. He cared, he really seemed as if he cared about me and about how I felt and he'd always be there. In his actions, his looks, the way his hesitant smile flickered before he became confident, as if that confidence wasn't his first move and I saw Paul more humanly and a bit less than an angel.

Really, that only made me like him more, "But-"

Rolling his eyes playfully, he squeezed my hand before flicking my nose, "No buts."

His jokingly-condescending tone didn't go unnoticed by me but at the fact that his lips looked a raw reddish flesh-tone, as if they'd been bitten or kissed and the fact that I was the only one he allowed to do so, all teasing flew to the back of my mind. And I smiled before checking my surroundings discretely, careful not to anger him again, I leaned over the counsel to press a soft kiss to Paul's lips.

It was a quick peck but nonetheless, it was enough to get my heart racing and goosebumps to erupt all over my skin. Pulling away, I was stopped short by Paul's assertive fingers brushing my chin and craning me back towards him. I couldn't help but think of the first time he'd done that, in the restroom of the pizza joint, the first day we'd become a little more than friends.

The look in his eyes was the same as it was then, that confidence and dominant side that I rarely saw coming to play and I kind of liked it. "Kiss me again."

Who's kidding? I really liked it.

I ignored the fact that he was making me the girl in our situation, a blush forming in my neck and creeping up to my face. I watched him bite his lip, my breath leaving me in short bursts, "You're gonna be late, babe."

"I don't care," he'd dismissed, his hands curving up to hold my jaw and thumbs stroking my freckles cheeks. I felt like I was under a microscope, Paul seeing every flaw and every piece of me I'd tried to cover up. Clearing my throat, I gently pulled his hands off of me, my eyes casting downwards as I attempted to get out the situation as quick as possible.

"I do."

I could sense the worry in his voice but he pretended he didn't notice the way my hands settled back on my knees instead of one on the counsel for him to grab. "Fine," he'd said, voice small and ghost of a forced smile curling the corners of his mouth.

"You're perfect, you know?" Paul had said after a moment of silence, my breath hitching at the pure honestly in his voice, "you're so fucking perfect and you don't even realize that."

I wanted him to stop making me feel this way, wanted him to stop causing these butterflies to swarm my stomach, wanted him to just stop but really... I didn't want him to at all. If anyone was perfect, it was Paul, "Kiss me again?"

But he just laughed, bringing us back into an easy conversation. Shaking his head, he played with the hand on my knee before patting it gently, "Nope. See you at four."

"I hate you." I muttered with no conviction as he gave me a smirk.

"You love me," I'm halfway there. "bye, Jules."

"Fine."

But he didn't even let me swing the door open before his tattooed hand gripped my forearm. And when I turned to look in confusion, I felt his fingers under my chin, pulling my face closer for a small kiss, his teeth indenting my bottom lip a little before letting me go completely, "I can't wait to call you mine," he whispered and I knew I wasn't supposed to hear him making future plans for our relationship but I had and it seriously didn't seem that bad.

I felt my face heat up as I tried to manage a small smile, my heart thumping sporadically in my chest and my face no doubt as red as Paul's plush lips. Oh God, his lips. "You're so cute when you're flustered."

: : :

"I see you finally made it," Benji had smirked when I'd made it to the door. Ben stood there leant on the metal, it creaking as he could never stand still. He was smirking as I walked up, bushy brow raised and I could hear his hand clap down on my shoulder before I felt it.

There was absolutely no one else in the parking lot, Ricky getting a suspension for the harassment and although Paul didn't talk about it, he was obviously affected. I'd intended to ask him but I hadn't wanted to push it out of him, especially the same day it happened.

"Shut up." I muttered shoving my shoulder against his . Ben stumbles to the side, laughing and shoving me back a bit harder. He'd turned then, going to walk backwards in front of me.

Spinning in his Nike 1s, he mimicked the motion of dribbling a ball between his legs. "You know, making out in the parking lot is scandalous, buddy."

"Didn't you fuck Angie Morton in the parking lot last week?"

"Hey," he held his hand up, it pressed against my chest and he gave me a serious look. Brows raised, he moves his hands to curl over my shoulders and he shook me. "This ain't about what I do."

And then he was pushing off, spinning and slapping the doorframe as he entered the room. "This is about you and your boyfriend and that dark ass hickey on the side of your neck, good thing you ain't gotta go home."

He slid over the desk with ease, spinning to look back at me and he was drumming his fingers on the surface.

I folded my arms leaning on the doorway, the school was almost completely empty and I was just ready to get this all over with. I hated the feeling of being there, maybe it was some irrational fear of being murdered here of all places but Ben looked so comfortable and where was the teacher?

It was a minute to the time we'd have to be in and I sincerely did not want to enter, especially after the day I'd had. During PE which I took off with a note to practice soccer with the guys that day, we were short a member. Andy still hadn't talked to me since our minor dispute and the team was starting to respect me less and less.

I couldn't even blame Ricky by then.

I just wanted the day to be over with, practice at 4 being cancelled due to Coach's wife going into labor and I would've been absolutely content with going back to Paul's and just falling asleep next to him. But I couldn't because some kid found it his place to pick on someone else and I felt obligated to help.

I heard the bell ring, signaling that detention was starting so with a shove of the door, Benji made his way in, a sigh escaping. And we both sat in two seats at the very back. The teacher was there, unlike multiple movies I'd watched once upon a time, she didn't disappear halfway through like she was careless.

I recognized her immediately as Mrs. Radcliffe, our algebra teacher, and she looked confused as we stepped in. With one look and a jerk of her finger, we stood, moving to the front. I watched her stand, making her way around the desk and I found myself trying to decide if I were attracted to her because let's face it, she was hot. She was always considered the "hot teacher" especially the year before when Calum and I used to share the same Geometry class, Mrs. Radcliffe teaching it as week and over time, she became one of my favorite teachers.

That didn't stop the guilt I felt for participating in conversations where she was described as nothing more than ass and boobs.

I saw her sigh, pulling a small frown, her hazel eyes zeroing in on Benji as she stood tall in her theosophy, sitting slightly on the front of her desk. She looked professional but she also looked extremely attractive in her pencil skirt and short-sleeve button-up. Her brunette waves rested just grazing her shoulders and she had a friendly smile, of course people would think she was attractive.

But she was literally just a teacher to me.

"Ben... What're you doing in here?" her voice came out strong and authoritative due to her northern accent.

And I saw Benji nearly swoon. Smirking, he lent back in his seat, "I'm sitting."

She gave him a mock-shock look and I smiled, remembering exactly why I liked having her for two years, "Really? I had no idea."

"The more you know," he tried to flirt back to which she rolled her eyes.

"Really," she let out a laugh, it sounding bubbly and light. I watched as she lifted herself onto her desk fully, ring gleaming in the light, "why're you here, kid?"

"Fight."

She must've gotten enough from that, head nodding before she turned to look at me. I averted my gaze as she attempted to make eye-contact... I didn't want the look of pity, most likely all the teachers and the staff had heard about my situation and I couldn't stand it, "What about you, Julian?"

"Same..." I breathed out sharply, my teeth gritting as I tried to ignore the fact that I was being so rude and in my mother's presence, I'd probably be shamed for disrespect to my elders. Instantly, I felt bad about snapping.

"You know, I used to fight a lot in high-school..." Mrs. Radcliffe took no offense to my tone, moving on with her lecture although it didn't sound like a lecture, it felt friendly... It felt like she really cared about our situation but she didn't push us, "it gets you nowhere but in trouble."

"We were defending a friend." Benji piped up, seemingly interested with the conversation.

"I get that but friendly tip, next time do it off school grounds."

And it was silent. Mrs. Radcliffe muttered a quick 'okay' and with a smile, she pushed off her desk and walked back around to sit behind her desk and open a Subway sandwich that laid on her desk. Ben and I stayed quiet, understanding that the moment was over and this was detention. I was bored, huffing and leaning back in the uncomfortable chair beneath me for the rest of the hour.

The silence was only interrupted when the door opened,my head still positioned towards the ceiling and I found no interest in the person coming in.

"You're late, Cain."

Cain.

Calum Cain.

My head snapped back quickly, my eyes going to the door in an instant and I prayed to whatever god there was that it wasn't him. I hadn't heard about him in weeks, not since I'd been put in the hospital and my dad had never followed through on a court-case. Apparently he just wanted everything to end as did I and we both figured that it was easier to just distance myself and as long as he wasn't bothering me, I was fine.

But with him standing in the doorway, blue eyes shining and blond hair growing out nicely, it came rushing back and everything hit me like a train. I felt Benji's hand on my wrist, comforting in a small way but I paid no mind. I remembered the fight, the look of hate in his eyes... And I got flashbacks of our friendship.

I needed Paul, I really did but he wasn't there.

And I wanted to die.

A/N:

you didn't think I was done with him, did you?

brb watching Catfish reruns and waiting for Finding Carter
GUYS GO WATCH OUT FOR MY TUMBLR: societyobeys DURING THE SHOW BECAUSE I'M LIVE-BLOGGING.

MGK IS ON CATFISH AMD I LITERALLY WATCH THIS EPISODE EVERY SINGLE TIME I HAVE A CHANCE.

Updated: Tuesday, December 15