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After bathing, Melanie found herself, in her room, ashamed. She had wasted no time under the shower, because even though she did not admit it, she could not wait to get out to the living room again, and hang out with the guys some more, before it's too late into the night. But then, on second thought, she was stuck in a predicament as she stood in the middle of her room, wet all over, panting, wrapped in a green towel and holding up her pajamas. The shame was because, she did not have it laundered and so it . . . according to her, stank a little bit. She sniffed it the fifth time and felt embarrassed before she decided that she was wasting too much time, so she quickly pulled and dropped her towel at her feet and slid into her pajamas.

After she smelled herself again, She exhaled, straightened and walked to the door.

-

"Junior," Verena called from the living room's door and did not sound cheerful. "It's time for bed." She announced with both her hands on her waist, just like Melanie places hers to exert authority.

Junior's excitement died as he made to get up from the couch where he sat with Jake and was showing him his impressive juvenile crayon paintings.

"Oh come on, mom," Melanie interceded as she walked into the living room in her pajamas. "Let him stay a little and mingle." She said absentmindedly and walked towards Paul who sat at the dining.

Junior's face beamed up again and he jumped right back on the seat. Verena sighed frustratedly, spun and disappeared into her room. Paul observed things and found it strange that Melanie had a clear authority over Junior than their mother did. It scared him, a little, how controlling and intimidating she seemed to be when she was not shying away from him or getting lost while looking into his eyes.

Melanie walked up to him, holding the hem of her top with a tight grip that suggested how nervous and self-conscious she was. She pulled up a chair facing Paul and said, "Hey!" before she took a quick nervous bite at her thumbnail.

Paul looked at her and  smiled, but when their eyes met, they locked on and phased into a short trance. For those few seconds, Melanie's eyes efficiently took notice of how Paul's hair glistened with damp blackness after he had showered in the guest bathroom, how his skin looked delectably fresh and creamy and how his lips looked puffy, bright orange and attractively distracting, glistening too, with the help of the honey he squirted all over the pies he ate. She noticed also, how her late brother's washed-out college t-shirt looked on him. It made her nostalgic and weirdly . . .  happy. At the realization that she may have been staring too long, she shut her eyes and jerked her head gently.

"Sorry . . . about..." She cleared her throat and blurted. "...All the ruckus with my mum and all."

Paul jerked in a way that suggested that he snapped out of a sort of trance too, after staring at her awkwardly. He smiled, picked up another slice of pie and shoved it into his mouth.

"It's cool." He said and licked the honey that glooped on his lips. It pulled Melanie's attention for a flash moment.

"Okay," She said, "but I guess I should have warned you guys that I stay with my mother and . . . Junior. I just didn't think it'd matter, you know?"

"It doesn't really matter." Paul said with a mouthful, before he swallowed. "It's good that you stay with your mother, because otherwise, I would not have these awesome pie leftovers to eat." He cut another slice and Melanie marvelled at how big his slices were.

She watched him for a little more time attentively and somehow enjoyed the fact that he was eating food made in her home and was enjoying it. It made her wish she was the one that cooked it or that she had helped at least.

"You really like it," she observed. "Don't you?"

"You have no idea." Paul replied. "I haven't eaten anything I liked half as much as this since I moved to this country." Melanie chuckled lightly, and he continued. "As a matter of fact, I want you to move out, so I can move in and take your room. I want to stay here and never go back with Jake."

"I don't have to move out." Melanie said playfully with a suggestive expression. "We can totally bunk together and live here like a family."

Paul paused, his smile bright dissolved into an awkward nervous one and he looked uncomfortable.

Uh-oh, Melanie realized how awkward what she said may have sounded, family? Am I crazy? She felt herself panicking and so self aware that she could see how crazy and desperate she looked through Paul's eyes. She wanted to say something, something else different, something to change the awkward atmosphere but her heart only thumped and her mouth was uselessly ajar.

"So," Paul started and broke the silence. "What did you tell your mother happened to us today?"

"I lied to her." Melanie blurted. "She'd freak out and go totally crazy if I told her the truth."

"Yeah. I think so too." Paul nodded.

Melanie relaxed again and steadied herself in a moment before she blurted, "So what do you think about Jake?"

Paul squinted and dropped the gooey slice he was holding back on the tray. "What about him?"

Melanie lowered her voice into a whisper, and leaned closer to Paul. "I don't trust that guy. He obviously knows something about those men that took us." She said, staring intensely and communicatively into Paul's eyes.

Paul sighed, paused and pondered on how to settle the argument that he was sure would ensue from this. He did not wish to discuss anymore about this thing they went through, at least for the night and he really could not understand why Melanie was so paranoid about Jake's tattoo. He turned to glance at Jake who was Still played care freely, with Junior, but Melanie quickly pulled back his attention.

"Hey! What are you doing?" She whispered a yell. "I don't want him to know we are talking about him behind him."

"Sorry, but you are talking about him behind him. I'm not." He declared with emphasis on you.

"What is that supposed to mean? Paul this is serious. This is about our safety. Don't bring friendship loyalty into it. Those men called his name . . . his full name. They must be connected somehow and with the tattoo thing. And Jake has been acting sort of suspicious. He obviously ain't telling us something."

Paul turned in mild annoyance and stared into her eyes. "Jake's father has a dormant twitter account. It's dormant, Melanie, and yet it has over a million followers. He's successful and influential. There are multiple articles about him online and several Wikipedia articles about him. Everyone in California is supposed to know the Shere's name and I would have found it suspicious, instead, if they had not recognised his name."

Melanie was taken aback by his soft scolding. She did not know why, but it really touched her and she instantly decided not to bash Jake anymore.

"Besides," Paul continued. "The Captain was on the phone with someone who seemed oddly interested in you. So should I be worried that you might be connected with them? Should Jake? I'm the one far from home, I'm the one whose whole life's work hangs on a nano-dimenssionally thin thread, I am the only one that obviously have no connection with those men, I'm the one who split someone's wrist today and he promised revenge. So . . . with all due respect, If anyone has earned the right to freak out, to be suspicious and paranoid, it would be me. Okay?"

"Okay . . . okay. I get it." Melanie said admittedly. "but Paul, it's not . . . the same, you know?" She paused at the realization that  she was being a tad too loud. "It's not the same. It's was different in my case." She whispered again.

"Who is to say it isn't the same thing?" Paul retorted. "Huh? You don't have an explanation to his story, so how do you know it's not the same as yours?"

Melanie sighed audibly, blowing out wind so that her cheeks puffed out. "Okay - okay. Fine . . . but it's crazy. Who has a tattoo and does not remember how they got it?"

"I really think a lot of people don't remember when they decided to get a tattoo, why, and how they got their tattoo." Paul answered and then shrugged.

"Really?"

"Yes. Listen. There can be millions of explanations to one simple thing. Okay? He might remember and just does not want to talk about it, because of a totally different nonthreatening but embarrassing or secret reason; or maybe he really does not remember. Alright?" He breathed and Melanie nodded. "You don't have to trust people, okay? But, before you find a real reason not to . . . just respect their words."

Melanie stared relentlessly at him and still marvelled at how much he was similar to her late brother. In her whole life, she only had known Michael to be the only one to say these sort of things to her and say them this way.

Paul drew a deep breath, and then asked a question that shocked Melanie. "Melanie, How did you get that scar on your right biceps?"

She jolted and reflexively covered the scar area with her hand, before she realized that Paul was not really seeing the scar, because her pajamas sleeve covered it. He must have seen it before, sometime during the day. "I don't want to talk about it." She muttered.

"I know." Paul said. "And I'm sorry I asked. Earlier today I observed the protective band you wore and my mind could not shake off the thought that you pulled it way too high to a position that must have been uncomfortable. So, I knew it was set there for a reason, perhaps to cover something and that was when I got curious. My mind works like that and I can't help it. It dedicated a fraction to focus and watch till at some point I got a glimpse of the scar. I'm sorry . . . but the point is, at the mention of that scar, you jolted and acted exactly like someone who have something deep and dark to hide. It's a little scary actually, but I respect you on your decision to hide it. I would not suspect you of evil intent nor relentlessly bash you with questions about your scar."

Melanie watched and listened as he talked and was helplessly charmed. She nodded and was submissively attentive.

Paul leaned closer to her. He held the hand with which she was holding her scarred biceps, and that was when she realized that she was still holding it. He pulled it off gently and held that hand within the warmth of his, and he continued to speak to her in a very comforting tone. Piercing her heart with his eyes, and warming her heart with a sweet tone.

He squeezed that hand softly, and said; "I don't know what your story is . . . but it's okay. Let's just focus on being friends and getting to know one another."

"I smell love in the air." Jake blurted and startled them as he walked towards and then passed them on his way to the fridge. He had found them lost into each other, with Melanie's hand in Paul's and their eyes locked on unblinkingly. "You two get a room. You're stinking up the whole place with this lovey-dovey thingy you've got going on."

Melanie blushed sweetly and pulled her hand away from Paul's.

"Don't be weird Jake." Paul said and laughed.

Jake took a bottle of water from the fridge and slammed it shut. "I will not breathe." He said, pulling his upper lip to block his nostrils. This your love thing seems airborne and contagious . . .  and I don't wanna catch it."

"Grow up, Jake." Melanie said and Jake gulped down a fraction of the bottled water.

"Quick question, Jake." Paul started and pulled their attention. "How did you really get the tattoo?"

"Oh God!" Melanie exclaimed inaudibly, bowed and shook her head. She instantly regretted opening up to Paul, about her concerns.

"Told you guys already." Jake shrugged and swallowed before he answered,"I don't remember."

"See?" Paul spun to Melanie excitedly and said, "He didn't even flinch."

Melanie rolled her eyes. "Just kill me." She mumbled and Paul was confused.

"Come on, you guys." Jake said mockingly. "Didn't know you were still on that." He dropped the bottle on the table, walked around the table and stood behind Melanie.

"It's not like that." Melanie claimed and chuckled uncomfortably.

"How then is it, huh?" Jake said jeeringly and chuckled. "What is it then?" He asked and bent down so he spoke into Melanie's ear from behind her like he did in the car. He reduced his voice to a whisper. "Are you obsessed with me?" He asked with tease.

Melanie rolled her eyes again. "Come on, Jake. Enough."

"Why? You can't handle it anymore?" Jake teased. "You can't help but think about the tattoo on my bare chest or is it just my bare chest? You want me to rip off my shirt so you can feel it up, don't you?"

"Stop it, Jake" Paul yelled softly.

Jake, still amused, peered up at Paul and winked suggestively. He continued, "oh boy, we have made the big guy upset." He chuckled mischievously. "Why, Paul? Why should we stop . . . ? Tell us . . . you want Melanie to yourself, don't you?" He said and slowly slid his hand onto Melanie's shoulders.

Melanie wanted to shrug off his hands and protest, but he began to knead her shoulders and the back of her neck softly in an expert massage. So, when she wanted to protest, all that escaped her mouth was, "ooh . . . wow!"

Paul's eyes shot laser glares at Jake, but Jake only grinned crazily and continued. "Tell us, Paul." He repeated. "You want to ask her out. You want me to stop, because you like her, because you want only your hands on her. Just admit it and I will stop."

Melanie did not mind admitting that she liked where Jake was going with this, but she could not be sure, because she could not think straight. Somehow, she felt Jake's fingers all over her body, in the exert spots her muscles were tense. She felt also, some tingling sensation at the tip of her toes and fingers and they were electrical. Her toes curled in gently and she was intoxicated to stupor. "Whoa!" She moaned softly.

"Say it." Jake demanded. "Admit that you want to have her."

Paul still glared at Jake intensely and within him, -especially at seeing the way Melanie moaned and leaned her head back into the massage- he boiled with anger. "I don't." He finally blurted and hated Jake for forcing this out of him.

Jake stopped and his fingers froze, shocked to his bones. Oh Crap, he exclaimed within, when he realized that he had damaged something. He only had the intention to help accelerate this obvious thing between Paul and Melanie and he never imagined, for once that the whole thing could go wrong.

"I don't want to have her." Paul admittedly stated and Jake's throat felt choked with dryness and regret.

Melanie snapped out of her euphoria as soon as Jake's fingers froze around the base of her neck. Her dull eyes flew open and caught Paul's serious glare and as soon as she did, her heart tore into two cloven pieces. It was not like she had really thought of it, it was not like she proposed a relationship with Paul, but hearing Paul's rejection made her feel a door slammed shut to her face, a door she would much rather have open.

The atmosphere was awkward, silent and shady for a moment, until Melanie faked an apathetic yawn and said, "I'm gonna turn in for the night." And at that, she stood up and walked briskly to her room.

As soon she left, Jake's guilty eyes turned to Paul and found red anger in his.

"You really have no boundary," Paul said with an ominously pissed voice. "Do you, Jake?"

...

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