Light hums filled the downstairs level of an otherwise silent household. An overhead light sitting above the dining room table filled the room with a warm, yellow hue. Cool-toned shadows ran across flat surfaces, lengthening into strange geometrical shapes along the walls. A touchscreen phone was left face up on a countertop, giving extra illumination via a multicolored interface undulating alongside song beats. Brad's voice carried a bit more power when singing certain sections.

Experienced hands worked to dress a plate with freshly made Paella. Yellow rice mixed with tomato, red peppers, peas, mussels, clams, and sliced chicken was further prepped by displaying large pieces of shrimp in a circle on top. Red pepper flakes were sprinkled in specific areas, whereas lemon wedges were squeezed to give an additional hint of zest. Fresh cilantro from a newly grown garden outside gave the plate a slightly more sophisticated finish.

Nodding to himself, Brad brought the plate over to the dining table. He also grabbed a glass and filled it with a new batch of Sangria that spent a majority of the day chilling in the fridge. Warm churros kept in a glass-covered container were brought over as well, just in case something sweet was needed for dessert.

Brad habitually glanced over his phone to see if he'd gotten a message. 

It was difficult to ignore the jab of pain which pushed through his chest when seeing no new notifications.

As much as he wanted to reach out, however, a little voice in his head kept repeating how this...period of separation was necessary. Whether he was expecting something from Marshall or Leah, Brad couldn't truly say. He just knew dwelling on his feelings for either person was going to send him down a path he didn't want to follow right now.

Instead, a quick trek up the stairs presented a good opportunity to focus on something, or someone, else.

A customary knock against the wall was given, even though the bedroom door was already open. "Paul? I'm sorry to bother you. I just wanted to let you know dinner's done and waiting for you."

Tired brown eyes opened, moving from pointing toward the ceiling to the vampire patiently waiting in the hall. "You're not bothering me. I was just resting a bit. I think all these extra patrols are starting to get to me."

"Running around for sixteen hours a day will do that to a person."

"Marsh would definitely be yelling at me and telling me to take a day off if he knew."

Brad clenched his jaw to keep himself from saying too much. He didn't want to nag or make room for an argument to start because he knew Paul wasn't doing well. Neither of them were, really. But they were facing different types of loss in their own ways.

Brad's pain stemmed from a feeling of emptiness—as if something of vital importance was missing and he didn't know how to get it back.

Paul's pain—it was something completely different. Even though he was running himself ragged in order to keep himself busy, his loneliness was only heightening with each passing day. Dark bags were becoming a permanent trait on his slightly pale, worn out face. Whenever he was home, if he didn't spend his time sleeping, he was sitting on the porch in silence. Waiting.

Aside from his first and only call with Marshall after he'd left, Paul hadn't yelled. There were no tears. There were no breakdowns.

It was just...silent agony.

It was a bleeding heart crying in its confines as it waited for the most precious person in the world to come back home.

Paul did his best to continue living like normal. His detachment from the world only shed light on how the Forever Bond really had changed the intensity of his attachment to Marshall.

Brad was in awe when finding out his best friend had that sort of devotion from someone who cared about him.

Awed, and extremely thankful he himself didn't.

Because the torment Marshall and Paul were going through right now because of their separation—it was too much.

"...Yeah, he would."

Brad tried not to think of his own ailments which happened after initially telling Leah to stop seeking him out. Now that they were physically seeing each other everyday when going to Emily's house for a group hangout, the pain from being away from his soulmate lessened. Still, whenever her sorrowful expression was caught in the corner of his eye, remnants of Brad's prior hardships flashed through his mind; momentarily bringing him back to one of his darkest periods of suffering.

If he'd felt that awful when it came to Leah, whatever Marshall and Paul were going through was astronomical in comparison.

"You okay?"

Brad looked up when Paul's much closer voice rang out. A curious expression was pointed the vampire's way, wordlessly searching for visual cues which might give him an answer.

"I'm fine. Or, I will be. Are you?"

"Course. Why wouldn't I be?"

Paul put forth one of his charming smirks to show he was in a playful mood.

Brad immediately saw the gesture as a ploy to mask a critical breaking point.

When Paul attempted to walk past his friend to head downstairs, a firm hand against his shoulder kept him from moving.

"Brad-"

"Marsh didn't leave because of you. I need you to know that. To understand that him leaving wasn't your fault."

For a moment, Paul didn't respond. He tried to play off a light gasp by clearing his throat. Unfortunately for him, though, enhanced hearing was able to pick up his more rapid heartbeat. Freezing cold skin erupted in goosebumps when greater waves of heat pushed outward.

"I know that. Why do you think I-"

"Don't bullshit me, Paul. I know you. When it comes to Marsh, his pain, and his safety, I know you have the tendency to blame yourself for not being able to always have all the answers. Him leaving didn't have anything to do with you. He left because he needs to find himself after those bastards stole his identity from him. After they stole his positive sense of worth. Something like that- coming from someone who had to do it too- Marsh is on a type of journey he has to take alone. Because, for something like this, no one else can give him the answers he needs. He has to find them himself."

Paul's hands balled into loose, tired fists. "...But why couldn't he do that here?"

"Because he's trying to change for you just as much as he's trying to change for himself. And he can't do it the way he needs to if he's standing right beside you."

Brad knew his words were blunt and harsh. But they needed to be said. He needed Paul to grasp the bigger picture so he wasn't forced into a position he didn't deserve to be in.

"...I blame myself. For not being able to do more for him."

"I know."

"I hate myself for not being able to loosen the chains or undo the hooks they stuck into him. He should've never been hurt so badly- by the people who were supposed to love him, no less."

"I know."

"I was able to help him through some of his toughest battles. Like when they abandoned him. When Bella outed him. When he was trying to hold himself together after realizing you could've died. That we all could've died. I know that I did a lot for him. But- but it never felt like it was enough." Paul's body began to shake. "I never felt like I was enough. Marshall was damaged so badly, and I never thought the things I said or the things I did were ever actually enough to drive his demons away.

"I know I gave him back his sense of safety. I gave him a place where he could be himself. A place he could call home. I gave him the opportunity to walk along the path to a much brighter future than he thought he could ever have. But even though we did so much to keep him on the upswing, those fucking bastards always tore him down ten times quicker and ten times harder.

"And it's awful. I'm happy that he's doing what's best for him. That he finally has the strength to try and find who he really is. I just- I can't help the fact that I miss him. And I want him to come home so badly. Life doesn't feel right without him. Eating, watching tv, sitting at the beach, looking at the stars- nothing feels whole when he's not here-"

Paul didn't realize he was so close to crying until he was pulled into a tight, desperate hug. Such tender, unexpected contact was enough to make his tears fall. The carefully crafted ruse of nonchalance he was trying to uphold completely shattered in the face of a single embrace. It was a gesture which told him his feelings were valid, heard, and, sadly, understood.

"I know. God- I know what that feels like."

Brad's short confession was given more emotional depth by the way his voice wavered when saying it.

He wasn't capable of crying anymore, yet the telling signs of torturous grief were still showing their familiar faces.

"...I remember how scared Marsh was when he first came out to me. I remember how hard he cried and how tight he held onto me when he broke down and finally admitted to what they put him through. I remember how guarded he initially was when I offered to be his safe space- and how he was afraid of really getting comfortable because he thought I was going to abandon him the way everyone else did. I remember feeling like I wasn't doing enough for him." Brad tightened his hold to act as a steady anchor. "Despite all of that, I also remember how bright I was able to make him smile. How I could bring tears to his eyes- not from pain, but from laughter. I remember how excited he was to tell me about his days. How he'd glow like a child watching a Christmas tree whenever we made plans to just be together.

"I know it's really easy to focus on the bad stuff when it comes to seeing someone you love struggle. You should give yourself some credit, though, because, just like I have, you've brought so much light into Marshall's life. You've brought so much warmth and happiness and love. You've seen him struggle while he faced the shadows. But you're one of the reasons he's finally walking toward the sun."

Paul let out a shaky breath. He allowed himself to melt into the hug and gave himself permission to fully reciprocate it. Cold arms wrapped around him acted more like a soft blanket of protection. He could tell, in this moment, no matter how much he cried, sobbed, or screamed, he wouldn't be judged. He'd be able to fall apart as horrifically as possible and still remain in the welcoming embrace of someone who knew how he felt.

It was...relieving. Not having to pretend like everything was fine for the sake of keeping other people from worrying.

"It's hard sometimes. You...smell a lot like him. You hug the way he does. Even your cooking is similar. You being around makes me miss him more. But you being around also helps me realize I'm not dealing with this by myself. You help make things feel a little more normal, Brad. I really don't think I'd be the way that I am right now if you weren't here."

Brad smiled. He gave a gentle caress with the fingers buried in his friend's hair. "Well, I'm not going anywhere. So lean on me as much as you have to. I'm strong enough for the both of us. And if there comes a time where I'm not...I know you've got my back."

"I do. Always."

Paul's momentary panic finally started to fade. A feeling of calm overtook one of great pessimism. A sharp ache in his chest dulled to the point where his pain could at least be tolerable. 

They'd hugged many times before. Tonight, however, with the smell of Paella spreading through the house from downstairs, being in each other's arms had never felt so right.

"I know I've never really said it before, but...I'm so lucky to have met you, Brad."

"Yeah. Same here, Paul."