It seemed that the comfort of having Glibt there and the weed had started to work its way through Paul's system in a worthwhile way, the fact that he was eating now and smiling - though his smile didn't have much strength behind it and it was still a little weary. He was eating, that was important. "I would like for you to stay," he said, "at least until Tommy and Bret are both home and if you want to stay - there are two other empty guest rooms." He didn't think Glibt would feel comfortable sleeping in Harvey's bed, but - "One of the beds is even pretty big, if - y'know - you don't mind..." he trailed off. Yes, Paul would want to cling to Glibt during the night, even if he had the teddy bear to cling to as well.
"I learned how to mix drinks in Chicago," he said, glancing towards his own slightly. "My ex was, among other things, a bartender." But there wasn't any fondness in his voice, just an empty sort of lack of feeling. Paul had pushed everything from the surface so, when he remembered, he wasn't afraid. And it had taken a lot for him to get to that - a lot of work with Harvey, a lot of time with therapists and police and the knowledge that there was a restraining order between them. Just below the surface there was still a lot of pain and resentment and, of course, a fresh memory from the seconds of a dream that had passed through his mind before Glibt knocked on his bedroom door.
It haunted him more than he ever liked to admit, but at least he wasn't terrified by the other man anymore. He knew Harvey was there to... Paul's face went a little blank momentarily and he turned back to his soup. No, Harvey wasn't there to protect him, but Glibt was so it would be okay. He turned back to his soup for a moment, finishing off a few more bites of it and taking a drink before - without lifting his head - continued. "He did a decent job getting me clean and off the street, but damage he did in the meantime makes me wish I was still working and smoking every day. Harvey saved me and keeps me safe."