Mason had wanted to see Paris's reaction to the violin - but he thought it might be a bit strange to wait in her room - so he stayed in the living room even after she left the room. He was hoping she might come back out to say something once she saw it.

As if on cue Mason heard the sound of a door opening and stood from his seat. He ran a hand through his hair, resisting the urge to pace as the sound of footsteps reached his ears.

"Mason," she heard Paris call out softly. Said man cleared his throat, walking in the direction of her voice and mentally steeling himself on the way there.

He stopped just in front of her, watching as she furrowed her brows and held up the instrument in his direction. He cleared his throat, "What's up?"

"Did you get me a violin?" She looked absolutely fucking stunned; eyes wide and mouth agape with blatant surprise.

Mason shrugged uncomfortably under her gaze. "If I did?" She gave him a deadpan expression in response and Mason tried to smirk, failing miserably when she abruptly glared. "Why do you look so pissed?"

She suddenly sighed, lowering the violin slightly as she spoke. "While I appreciate the gift, I can't possibly accept it." She tried to give him the instrument but Mason just pushed it back in her direction.

"And why the hell not?" He swore he'd never heard of anyone denying a gift, expensive or otherwise.

She rolled her eyes, "You shouldn't be giving random people gifts just because you can. That's how people take advantage of you."

Mason's throat tightened slightly as her choice of wording. "First of all, I'm fucking offended that you think you're just a random person to me." Paris opened her mouth, as if in preparation to respond but Mason interrupted before she could. "Second of all, that was cheap as all hell. The musician makes the instrument and all that shit right?" She giggled at that and he smiled softly to himself at the noise. "And third of all, this is all for my own fucking benefit so don't be so flattered. I want to hear you play and now I can."

Paris grinned at him then, a smile so soft and sweet it made his stomach churn in probably the best fucking way possible. "Well then," she paused for seemingly no reason, staring at Mason with a gentle expression. "Thank you."

She abruptly pulled Mason into a hug, wrapping her arms around his waist and laying her head on his chest. Mason gasped at the sudden movement, feeling himself stiffen slightly as she made a soft noise - almost a hum.

His face suddenly felt hot, his heart beginning to pound as he returned the hug.

God, she felt so right against him; the perfect fit. She was warm and soft in his arms, her curves melting against him as she relaxed in his hold.

Mason sighed as he closed his eyes, letting his head fall back so he could savor the moment. He opened his eyes to reposition slightly, fully encasing her waist in his arms as he lifted Paris off the ground just the smallest amount. She laughed at the movement, her face burying into his neck and releasing hot breath onto his skin.

He shivered slightly at the sensation before he forced himself to set her back down. She pulled away after regaining her footing, setting her hands on his forearms to further steady herself.

Mason found himself staring at Paris for a moment before he was interrupted by the sound of her voice. "You're really weird," she snorted.

Mason frowned, "How fucking sweet of you," he drawled sarcastically.

"I know," she smirked at him. "Aren't I just the sweetest?"

"Definitely."

It wasn't as sarcastic this time.

~~~

It was the next day and Mason had yet to convince Paris to play in front of him. He had heard her plucking at the strings earlier - tuning the instrument he assumed - and had barged into her room on the spot.

She had kicked him out on the spot.

He had since migrated to his own room, sitting at his desk and filling out assignments that he still had yet to finish. His phone suddenly rang and he pulled it out of his back pocket, rolling his eyes lightheartedly at seeing the contact. "Hi mom," he greeted after picking up before setting down the pencil he had been writing with.

"Don't sound so excited," she retorted after hearing his dry tone. Mason laughed at her dramatics, shaking his head softly.

"Sorry," he chuckled again. "What is it you needed to talk about?"

While his mother was very affectionate she absolutely despised phone calls so it had to be for something important. "Josh told me you like someone." Or not.

"Josh is a big ass liar."

He heard his mother huff and imagined the eye roll that would accompany the noise. "Language," she reminded. There was a pause, Mason holding back the urge to say every single curse word known to man and his mom doing who the hell knows what. "So who is she?"

Mason rolled his eyes, his mind unwillingly picturing the hug from the night before. He shook his head to clear it, refocusing on the phone call. "She doesn't exist, mom. Like I said, Josh was lying; he probably said it just to mess with me."

"Right sure," she dragged out the final syllable teasingly. "So then what about your new roommate? What are they like?" How fucking ironic that she happened to bring up the exact person Josh thought Mason had a romantic interest in.

Mason leaned back in his chair, sighing as he envisioned his newest roommate. "Well her name is Paris," he began.

"Oh, that's different," he absentmindedly heard his mom state.

He ignored the small interruption, "And she's from England. She has curly hair and she's really mature," it was one of the first things he picked up on. "She likes wearing dresses and skirts and always complains when she wears high heels but wears them every day. She doesn't have a favorite color but says she would never be caught dead wearing gray."

He realized he was rambling slightly, but his mom had asked for details and he was nothing if not a fucking mama's boy.

"She's very straight forward but probably the nicest person you'll ever meet. She holds a grudge but knows exactly what to do to make someone smile. She doesn't watch TV but she's constantly listening to classical music in her room. Oh- and she plays the violin but no one has heard her perform yet."

It was silent for a moment before his mom suddenly laughed. "I meant that as in her major and her name, Mason."

"Oh right," Mason chuckled uncomfortably. "She's majoring in Social Science."

"I see," he heard her sigh. "Funny how that was the last thing you mentioned," she trailed off and he could practically hear the smirk in her voice.

"Yeah, whatever," he muttered basically to himself.

So what? He just wanted to give an in depth explanation; fucking sue him.

"What were you saying about not liking someone again?"

"I told you I don't have feelings for anyone, mom," he groaned frustratedly. "Especially not Paris; she's just easy to get along with. Even though we're always arguing," he unconsciously smiled as he remembered the constant bickering between them. "And sure she's pretty - gorgeous even - but anyone would think that. I mean- you'd just have to see her to understand, mom. And it's not like I'm constantly trying to make her smile or that I stay up for hours just because she isn't home yet. That would be-."

He stopped abruptly as he realized.

Mason slumped forward, resting his head in his hands with a groan. "Shit," he muttered to himself. He could faintly hear his mom's voice from the phone in his hand but was too distracted to really care. "I'm a fucking idiot."

"Mason? What's going on?" The words could barely be heard but he was still able to understand them nonetheless.

What's going on, he repeated to himself with an emotionless laugh.

"I fucking like Paris."

~~~