"PAUL?"

His name rolled off his tongue easily. As if he was calling out a friend as he tossed his backpack onto the couch.

"Oh," Ringo's blue eyes widened slightly at the sight in front of him. "Hello, love."

"What are you doing?"

"Eating." He answered simply, as if seeing the local murderer eating microwaveable pasta was normal in Ringo's everyday life. "I can't just starve here to death, can I?"

"No. 'Course not." Ringo sat on one of the stools. "Can I have some?"

Paul raised his eyebrow. "And what do I get in return?"

He scoffed. "A not-cranky kid and maybe the opportunity to ask me shi--- stuff."

"Okay." A smirk formed in his lips, and Ringo felt a twinge of unease. He slid him a  bowl and slouched over the counter, his faux innocent-looking eyes boring into Ringo's droopy ones.

Ringo squirmed a bit in his seat.

"How was school?"

Tense shoulders fell, and Ringo gave him a disbelieving look.

"That's it?" Paul gave him a "well?" expression and Ringo fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Well for starters everyone was talking about you."

"Figures," Paul muttered under his breathe. "Well I always liked being the centre of attention anyways."

"Why haven't you left yet?" Ringo asked abruptly, even though it was still Paul's turn.

An undecipherable expression formed in the older's face. He looked like he was about to say something but decided against it.

"It still isn't safe for me out there." He said simply. Sure it wasn't a lie, but it was more of a dougnut truth than a statement. It was the truth, but it wasn't the whole truth at the same time.

"Favorite color?"

"Red."

"I like red," Paul mused. In that angle, he barely resembled a psychopath.

"What's your favorite color?" Ringo asked, twirling his spoon around the microwave food. .

"Blue," He said, eyes meeting Ringo's. "It's a pretty color."

For some unknown reason, Ringo blushed.

"I-I..." He stumbled out, and relief flooded his chest when the telephone rang. "I'll get it!"

Paul blinked when Ringo shot out of the stool, nearly tripping on the carpet.

"Hello?" He greeted, fingers about to play with the cord as he always did. His fingers stopped, and Paul thought the boy suddenly had a heart attack until he said:

"Mum." Ringo breathed, eyes widening. "H-How are you? I'm... good." His eyes flickered to Paul's. "Why didn't you call earlier?"

Paul, realizing that it was terribly rude of him to eavesdrop, gestured to the kitchen. Ringo nodded, biting his lip.

"Yeah, yeah," He nodded, twirling the phone cord with his left fingers. His rings glinted with every crook and turn. "I--- What? Mum--- Mum I---" His face suddenly fell. "I-I understand. Goodbye." He whispered the last part, more to himself than to his mother.

Once the call ended, Paul looked to the right and saw a miserable-looking Ringo slumped against the wall. And if he bit his lip any harder it would've bled under pressure of his teeth.

"Everything okay?"

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Ringo exasperated. "I'm just a shitty kid, you were supposed to kill me ages ago."

Paul frowned, and Ringo winced.

"I-I' m sorry," He stumbled out. "My mum, she--- Ugh." He made his way to the couch and curled up in the corner.

"Hey," Paul said softly. "It's a quarter past six, we could still catch up to that television show we were watching yesterday?"

Ringo gave him a small nod, grabbing another pillow to clutch on as Paul tried to find the remote. 

The tv bursted to life, and Ringo barely administered Paul's arm snaking around his shoulders. 

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Wowza lame update buuuttt their relationship is improving!! Remember,, slow burn!!

Comments make me motivated!!