Paul could not hide from Gabriel's green gaze but he still wanted to, wanted to cover his face and turn away, flee from the bed and hide himself in the bathroom like some miserable cretin until he did not feel so weak and vulnerable. He whimpered again, the sound torn helplessly out of his throat without his consent, and one hand released Gabriel so he might cover his weeping eyes.<br/><br/>Paul was so overwhelmed he did not know what to do with himself, his control so scattered he didnt know how to put himself back together again. He felt unmoored, lost and afraid and bereft. It was an awful feeling and he ground his teeth against it, valiantly holding back his sobs once more. Paul hated it. Absolutely hated it.<br/><br/>But Gabriel was there, pressing his face against Paul's clenched jaw, murmuring sweet 'thank you's as softly as a cooing dove. Paul turned to him and found comfort as his hands returned to his Angel's hair, shakily stroking through the golden strands.<br/><br/>Gabriel was crying too, and that made it better. Gabriel was beautiful when he cried, more serene than any mournful madonna, his jade eyes glassy and bright and nearly unreal in their exquisite color. Paul kissed him once on the forehead before gently moving them, shifting about so Gabriel could rest on his side on the bed.<br/><br/>Paul was still unsteady but that did not stop him from reaching for the knife he had laid on the night stand. He used it to swiftly cut the rope that bound Gabriel's arms. Usually he took delicate care to untie the knots, the unwinding it's own ritual as he loosened the ties and rubbed feeling back into numb limbs. Paul lacked the calm required for it, all he knew was that he wanted his angel in his arms immediately.<br/><br/>"Gabriel," he breathed, still distraught, tears still dripping from his eyes as he gathered the other man close. He has never felt so bare before, so utterly naked, and he needed something to cover him before he withered away under the exposure.