Romance Novel

For my mussu. :*

---

Paul is a romantic.
He loves roses and sweet love stories.

Flake doesn’t know what he should think of Paul.

*

“Christian!”

Fuck.

“Christian, wait!”

I close my eyes and turn around. Somehow I manage to offer the draft a polite smile.

“Paul.”

His chest is heaving and he’s panting, but yet he can show me his famous and always so bright trade mark smile.
God, he’s annoying sometimes.

“Hey Christian, I was just wondering if I could… maybe come to your place tonight.” His eyebrows rise. “If you don’t have anything else planned, that is.”

Of course I don’t.

“Yeah,. Sure.”

Why can’t he call me “Flake” like everyone else?

*

Paul is chipper and happy.
He is never tired of smiling and laughing.

Flake sometimes thinks what it would feel like to be like that.

*

I sit on my red armchair and try to read. Paul jumps around my apartment.

“Christian?” He stands on a chair and reaches for the books on the top shelf. “Why do you have so many books?”

I snort and try to keep reading.

“Because I don’t have a girlfriend.”

He turns his face towards me and grins.

“So you have lots of romance novels in here?” He turns his concentration to the books again. “What kind of romance novels would Christian Lorenz read? Does he like sweet and innocent or maybe sad and dark? Or maybe Mr. Lorenz likes to read erotic novels…”

He’s tapping the tip of his finger against his jaw, looking like he’s thinking really hard.

I put my book down.

“Sorry to disappoint you, dear Paul, but my collection holds no romance novels.”

He jumps down from the chair and I can’t help but think that the old lady living in the apartment below mine can’t be too happy about the noise it causes.

“That’s too bad. I like romance novels.”

I rise my eyebrows.

“Really? Tell me more about it.”

*

Paul’s smile changes when he tells about the love stories he reads.
His eyes sparkle.

Flake thinks Paul isn’t so bad after all.

*

The morning sun feels warm against my face and slowly I open my eyes.

“Good morning, sleepy.”

Paul.

I forgot I let him sleep on my couch.
His smile is even brighter than the sun and hurts my eyes more too. Go away.

“How do you like your eggs, Christian?”

I growl and cover my face with my pillow.

“Still tired?” I can hear his expression change. I can hear it. “Well, then you should sleep.”

He doesn’t move. I wonder what he’s watching. I take the pillow off my face and look at him.
His irritating smile has faded away and he looks so… calm.

He’s studying my face and for the first time in years - at least that I can remember - he’s not chipper.

“Paul?” I don’t know if it’s more a question or a statement.

He leans towards me and presses his lips on mine.

Most surprising.

*

Paul tastes sweet.
His lips are soft and cool.

Flake isn’t sure if he should pull away.

*

“I fried them instead. They taste good with toast.”

Paul would only need an apron and he would be a perfect housemaid. He comes to the table with two plates with fried egg and two pieces of toast with cheese.

“There’s boiled water in the kettle if you prefer tea with your breakfast.”

I nod my head and take a fork in my hand. With my other and I take the bread an take a bite.

Nice.

He pours water to his mug and starts selecting tea from a small tin box.

“Honey-” I start.

“Yes?” Paul turns with a slight pink on his cheeks. He looks irresistible.

“Honey is over there.”

The pink darkens on his cheeks and he looks slightly down.
“Oh, thanks.” He mumbles quietly.

Paul makes good breakfast.

*

Paul wants to be close to Flake, but is too shy.
He sits on the corner of the couch with his legs pulled against his chest.

Flake likes it when Paul watches him while he reads.

*

The first winter days are always chilly. The heater doesn’t quite work yet so I have to wear thick socks and sweaters inside.
Apparently Paul wasn’t prepared for this and he’s hugging himself, trying to get warm in the other end of my large couch.

“Paul? Are you sure you don’t need a blanket or something?”

He offers me a small smile with his pale lips. “No, no. I’m fine. This TV-show is so good I didn’t even feel the little chill before you mentioned.” You’re not fooling anyone.

I stand up from my seat and walk to my bedroom. When I’m at the door of the living room, his legs drop to the floor and he looks abandoned. He are ready to jump after me any time he feels he has to.

I take my blanket from my bed and come back to the living room with it. As he sees me at the doorframe all his muscles relax and a smile crawls back to his face.

“Thank you.” He whispers as I wrap the blanket around him.

I sit back to my end of the sofa and start reading again and I know it’s not the TV-show he’s watching so concentrated.
He wraps the blanket tighter around himself and hides almost completely inside it. His eyes glitter just above the blanket’s side.

Silent, almost unbearable whisper comes from his way.
“It smells like you.”

Paul’s eyes flutter close and slowly he drifts to sleep.

I like him when he’s quiet.

*

Paul doesn’t like to wake up alone.
He likes to curl up to the side of a warm person in the morning.

Flake likes to hold Paul when he sleeps.

*

He makes small noises when he sleeps. Other than that, he’s quite calm sleeper.
Every now and then he might nuzzle his face to neck, but that’s all he does.

I always thought he would twist and turn or at least kick a lot when he’s asleep.

I guess he collects all the energy he can possibly have while he sleeps, so he hasn’t got any time to use for kicking and turning around at night.

His breathing tickles my neck.

I really like him when he’s quiet.

*

Paul really likes Flake.
He thinks he might be in love with him.

Flake knows something Paul doesn’t.

*

“Christian…”

I grumble something.

“Christian…”

His breathing feels hot on my skin.

“Christian, wake up…”

Slowly I open my eyes. My hand is wrapped around Paul’s waist and his leg is between my legs, his knee pressing against my thigh.
He holds his palm against my chest.

“Christian, I want my love story.”

It’s too early for this, I can hardly keep my eyes open.

He blushes furiously. “I want my knight on a white horse.”

“I want you to be my knight, Christian.”

Now his hand is caressing my cheek and jaw.

“Please, Christian.” His eyes are locked on mine.

I look down and let my hand fall from his hips to the cool leather of the couch.

“Christian?” His voice betrays him. I can’t look at him when he’s crying.

“Christian?”

His fingers caress my face and my hair desperately.

“Please, say something?”

His hands clutch to sides of my face and he turns me to look at him.

His eyes are watery and red. He is begging me with his eyes.

“Christian, I’m in love with you.”

I wrap my arms around him and pull him against me.

His breathing comes as small gasps and his body trembles.

“There are no happy endings for people like us, Paul.” I whisper to his ear.

“There are no happy endings for us.”

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Ok, the ending sucks. Too bad. :D