Runaways

"I can't believe you've never been to a guitar store."

"Really? With my mother the way that she is? Please. I'm lucky I got to paint."

Paul hummed softly in agreement. Even from what little he knew about Mrs. Stillwell, he knew she would of went ballistic if she found out her daughter went to such a place. Even if it was completely harmless. "Do you know how to play any instruments?" He asked while following her into the apartment.

"I do, actually," Lydia answered with a chuckle. "Mother thought piano and violin were beautiful and peaceful. I was pretty good at both of them. But it's been years since I last played." She stopped after getting married because no one was making her play them anymore. Her ex-husband wasn’t exactly fond of the arts. Though he sure could fake interest when he had to.

He chuckled and sat down on the couch. “So it was only the proper instruments for you.”

“Exactly.” She placed her newly bought records on the coffee table, deciding to organize them into her collection later, and walked into the kitchen. “What would you like for dinner?”

“Oh you don’t have to make me anything. We just had dinner together two nights ago.” And what an interesting dinner it was. Till was very inquisitive and in a teasing mood. Thankfully there was more laughter than awkward moments. It just took a little while to get there.

“I know but I already planned on cooking something and since you are here..” She trailed off with a shrug and a small smile. “Help me decide.” She was feeling more comfortable around him today. More bold. It was nice.

He was suddenly struck by the feeling of domesticity. A view into a life they could have together. And it made his heart pound and butterflies erupt in his stomach. It had been so long since he felt something so wonderfully pleasant. After taking a moment to soak it in he nodded and slowly rose from the couch to join her in the kitchen.

After a bit of debating and scouring the cupboards, they decided to throw together some form of a pasta dish.

While waiting for the water to boil, Pall leaned against the counter and watched her chop vegetables. “Who taught you how to cook?”

“Believe it or not, my mother. She taught me how to cook, clean, and do all the household chores. Despite us having maids and cooks, she thought it was all an essential part of being a good housewife,” Lydia replied.

“Your mother really is something.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

No but he wanted to. He wanted to know every detail, no matter how horrible, of her life before Berlin. Her life growing up, the parts she spent with her grandparents and Jet, even the years with her ex-husband. Paul wanted to know everything because it was her. Because she mattered to him in ways he couldn’t explain and made him feel things he hadn’t felt in years. And it was all because of Lydia. One day he hoped she would be comfortable enough to talk to him and tell him these things because he wants to hear them. He wants to hear it all.

Just as long as it was her. That’s all Paul wanted.

"The water's boiling over."

He jolted from his thoughts and rushed to turn the stove down. He didn't want to make even more of a mess than he already had. He hadn't meant to get lost in thought but that seemed to happen a lot around her.

Lydia smiled to herself as she watched him rush about. He was absolutely adorable. She spoke again while turning back to the vegetables. "Jet called me this morning."

"Oh? Was everything alright?" He asked, half distracted by keeping an eye on the simmering water.

"I think so. She wants me to come visit for a little while."

He frowned and straightened up, no longer interested in dinner. "Is this because of what happened?"

"Sort of," she admitted with a sigh. "She wants to make sure it wasn't really him but I think she's using this as an excuse to get me to visit."

"Do you want to go?"

"Yes."

Paul nodded slowly with a frown still present on his face. "Then you should go." While he didn't want to see her leave, he also didn't want to stop her from seeing her friend.

"You wouldn't mind?" Lydia asked, now turning from the cutting board and facing him.

"Why would I mind?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I thought you might of been keeping an eye on me."

He smiled faintly at that. "I always keep an eye on you. I like it because it gives me an excuse to be around you more. But if you want to go, then go. It might do you some good to get away from here for a while. We all need breaks sometimes."

"Thank you," she said with a slowly growing smile. "I'm not really sure why I'm thanking you but I am."

He chuckled. "It's because of how much you are going to miss me."

Now it was her turn to laugh. "I might." She grinned at his pout. "Alright, I'll miss you. Now let's finish making dinner."

Paul nodded and went back to messing with the knobs on the stove. After a few minutes of silence he asked, "You will be coming back, right?"

"Of course," she quickly assured. She was surprised he even asked. "There's nothing that could keep me from not coming back."

"Are you sure? Jet and your grandparents are both in Paris now. And there's nothing keeping you here."

She frowned and shook her head. She knew exactly what he was hinting at and hadn't exactly been prepared to say it yet. But if he needed to hear it right now then she might as well go ahead. "That's where you are wrong, Paul. I think you already know this but if you need me to say it out loud then I will. The one thing keeping me here is you. And as long as you stay here I'll keep coming back."

A sigh of relief escaped Paul. "Thank you. I know that probably wasn't easy to admit, but thank you. I really needed to hear that."

She nodded and looked away, suddenly struck with the urge to hug him. Today had taken a slightly emotional turn and it strangely felt like a big step. Like she was beginning to bare herself to him. It was a hard feeling to process but she wanted to keep going. After a moment of contemplation she decided to do just that.

Lydia abandoned the vegetables and slowly made her way over to him, pausing only to turn off the stove, and wrapped her arms around him in a hug. He stiffened for moment in shock before relaxing and wrapping his arms around her. After he relaxed she did as well, sinking into the embrace and burying her face in his chest. They both sighed in relief.

"This isn't weird, is it?" She asked, voice muffled by his chest but still understandable enough.

"No. And you have my full permission to do this any time you want," Paul chuckled. He was positively ecstatic. Normally he was the one to initiate contact, even if it was just hand holding. But she finally did this time and he couldn't be happier.

"That's good," she hummed. "Cause I don't think I wanna let go yet."

"Take all the time you need."

After all, dinner could wait for a little while longer.