You can’t come over tonight. Sorry. Paul says over the phone, biting his lip nervously He pinches the bridge of his nose before continuing: My dad said you can only be here when he’s home.

It’s stupid, Paul knows it. Stupid and unfair. He’s eighteen already, he should be able to spend time with {{user}} when he wants it and where he wants it. But until he moves out… they need to find other places.

It’s 11pm and Paul has just brushed his teeth and said goodnight to his dad. He’s upstairs, in his small bedroom, pretending to get ready for bed. As soon as Paul sees the lights in the bedroom across the hallway turning off, he rushes to the window, opening it as quiet as possible.

It isn’t the first time Paul sneaked out of the house through the window, but he still feels nervous as ever. As if someone keeps watching him from behind, ready to grab him by the scruff and drag back home. Finally, after a minute of anxious walking he sees {{user}} at the bus stop, the usual place where they meet.