Between the Perennial Blooms || Paul Lahote

Sixteen | Sunflower

"Home is wherever the grief washes off your hands with the most ease. Love nothing that can't fit into your smallest pockets, and I will always be with you."
—Hanif Willis-Abdurraqib | Vintage Sadness

• • •

"How did it go with Paul?" Jacob asked as he and Bailey settled in on his bed for the night. Bailey had just finished showering, her hair still wet and smelling of the sweet shampoo she usually used that Jacob had been considerate enough to pack for her, and she perched at the foot of the mattress in a criss-cross stance so as to begin the grueling process of brushing out her mass of wily golden curls.

"Very well I think," she told him as he situated himself into his preferred sleeping position which entailed a board-straight horizontal lay beneath the covers with his hands tucked lazily up underneath his head. His eyes watched her observantly as she busied herself in gently yanking her brush through her long hair as best she could, the tangles having amassed into periodic knots due to Jacob's failure in packing her conditioner as well -a product he deemed a 'nonessential oil-slick' that had neglected to make the cut in terms of her toiletry bag. However, instead of complaining about the pain her tender head was now forced to undergo, Bailey simply considered it a blessing he had thought to even pack her shampoo in the first place. Luck had gifted her a toothbrush and Bella had gifted her clean underwear and a bra, but Jacob was the one responsible for her clothing choice as of now:

A neon orange shirt that fell to her knees, bright blue pajamas pants adorned with little purple kittens, and a mismatched pair of socks both white and striped yellow and black.

"That's good," he mumbled, wincing in empathy as her brush caught on a particularly brutal knot. "I would've had to punch him again if it hadn't."

Bailey ignored the urge to scold him for ever resulting to violence in the first place and instead opted to simply sigh. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing on the plump flesh in the middle as she recalled the walk along the beach she had taken with Paul just hours ago. It had been eye-opening to say the least -in both conversation and action- and though things between the imprint pair were still left muddled and slightly off-kilter, it had brought them a step closer to the beginnings of a friendship. They understood one another now, had silently agreed that it was time they stopped fighting the inevitable and instead worked to repair the rift cast between them. No longer would Paul resist the feelings that plagued him. Instead, he was going to try; and in turn, Bailey was going to try along with him.

"I learned a lot about him," Bailey admitted quietly, ignoring the way Jacob's lips pursed at the notion. "More than I ever thought he would let me. He's sweet, Jay," she told him in earnest, wishing he could understand just how true her words really were when he only snorted in blatant disbelief. "But he's also troubled. Paul doesn't think much of himself; I can tell. But I wish he did. I wish he could see just how wonderful I think he is."

"Bay..." Jacob trailed off softly, peering over at her with furrowed brows and an uneasy look on his face. "I know he's my pack brother and I know he's your imprint, but -and I don't mean this to hurt your feelings, honest -but of all the people I would've wished for you to end up with, I never would've wished for him." His imploring chocolate eyes met Bailey's cerulean blue ones and she swallowed at the sorrow that glinted so deeply inside of them. "Paul is so... so angry, arrogant, dangerous. Then you..." his eyes softened as they gazed upon her, bittersweet warmth replacing that previous undeniable sorrow. "You're just so small. It's scares me," he admitted to her quietly. "It scares me to think that one day Paul will lose control and you'll end up just like Emily with scars on your pretty face that won't ever go away."