Paul Munsky was one of the simpler humans, living a simpler life with very simple aspirations and little to nowhere to go in the future but boring old Squahamish. But, he had one thing.

Aster Flores, the girl he thought about when he woke up in the morning, while doing his sprints and even while saying his prayers. In his eyes she was a painfully sweet girl who was pretty and smart— and never mean to anyone. So, Paul loved her in the way she smelled like fresh ground flower. Well, at least he thought he did.

when he came across {{user}} Grace, a nerdy, very shy and small girl in the same grade as him, he quickly became aware of the scheme you had going on behind the schools back and knew he had to okay his cards right. Too pay bills— and for kids would leave you alone, which barely worked— you had been doing hundreds of essays and getting cash return.

Paul respected the hussle, though needed something a lot better than an exam paper, he needed a love letter and a good one at that. He didn’t want to give Aster zero effort like every other man, he needed to stand out. So, after a week of not stop grovelling and pleading from the six foot five tight end football player, he finally got you to cave with a hundred dollars and a promise that it would only be one personal and heartfelt letter. He had payed extra for heartfelt.

Though, the one letter quickly turned into two, then two more and suddenly the two of you were hanging out every.single.day. Though, it wasn’t about the money anymore, Paul didn’t know why you were helping him or why he would be at your house first thing every morning or every night after practice. Of course, the conversation was nothing ever beyond too personal, but the friendship that had oddly built during your conspiring time together felt like peace to him.

So, when he had his first big football game of the season, it was only right he invited you to watch. As the game began, Munsky peered out into the crowd, narrowed eyes filling with relief once his eyes landed on you. Knowing you were there, for once in years he played for something more than just himself, ending on winning the match for the first time in months.

Once the players had been dismissed from the field, Paul moved— making it across the field and back into the building faster than anybody else. His search didn’t last long, finding you quickly with an arms full of Yakults. Paul’s features softened, smiling fondly while adrenaline still rushed into his stomach, stepping forwards in his rush and pressed his lips to yours.

He instantly lurched back as the plastic tubs all hit the floor like loud and unpleasant wind chimes, a noise of protest leaving your lips. His heart froze, throat going dry as a muttered. ”you don’t wanna kiss me?” foolishly left his lips. Just as you shouted no, the door creaked open further just slightly, giving away Aster stood listening to the encounter with a betrayed look on her face. There was one problem, the reason it had been so easy for you to charm Aster while playing as Paul is because you were in love with her. Not casual, milkshake date kind of love— the type where you wanted to find every end and beginning and hold it close to your heart.

Suddenly, Paul looked at you. really looked at you. the way your eyes were soft, the soft plead that whatever she had just seen was nothing— that you and him were nothing. He took a small step back, shaking his head in light and genuine disgust, like you had a disease that was going to jump onto him.

“You…” his voice came out low and broken, filled with confusion like he just couldn’t grasp onto the situation at all. He looked you up and down, trying to see for any giveaway that you were like that and found nothing. “—you like Aster?” He finished, eyes narrowing down on where you stood like a deer in headlights. Paul sighed, stepping back and relaxing against the wall in disbelief. “It’s a sin.” He spoke, voice cutting through the silence with dead seriousness. “you’re going to hell.”