Oh, goodness. w00t for 3 AM chapter posts! :D

So tired..nothing clever comes to mind, so on with the story.

Disclaimer: Annabelle.

Part 1: Please Please Me

Chapter 2: Ask Me Why

"Annabelle!" John ran down the dark streets of London, lit only by a few street lamps every few feet. Anna had taken off her shoes and was carrying them by the straps in between her slim fingers. She kept walking away from him, but he kept on running till he caught up to her, out of breath.

"Annabelle, wai-" he was surprised when she cut him off, dropped her shoes and proceeded to punch his chest. She was speaking between sobs so he couldn't understand a word she was saying, but it didn't take her long to tire out and she collapsed, sobbing into his chest. He had to catch her before she hit the concrete and hold her on her feet. He shushed her quietly, but she sobs racked her frame so bad he thought she might shatter. He bent down to pick up her shoes.

"Alright, then. Come on, up you go." He whispered, lifting her into his arms and began the walk back to the flat. He sang as softly as he could to her and she calmed down quite a bit when they finally reached the house in a decent amount of time. He was careful not to drop the now silent Anna as he unlocked their red door and stepped inside. He checked to make sure she was awake before setting her on her still bare feet and handed her shoes to her. She mumbled her thanks but didn't look at him.

He lifted her chin to look at him, "Do you want to talk about it?"

She didn't have to say a word; the look in her eyes said it all. Anger, love, hate, disappointment, confusion. He didn't even wait for an answer when he saw the tears threatening to come back.

"Come on, love." He helped her down into her bed and stepped into his own after removing his shoes.

"So," he situated himself, acting rather silly in an attempt to cheer up the girl, "what happened exactly?"

She smiled a bit, but it quickly vanished, "There was this guy,"

She went on to explain that Michael only wanted to introduce himself on account that he'd never seen her at that club before because he was there almost every night for his girlfriend, and she emphasized girlfriend, who was the singer and main stage act for the place and how they were only talking when Paul got all overprotective. She mentioned that she greatly appreciated the idea, but that he'd went about it all wrong. She had already told Michael that she had a boyfriend, and that said boyfriend was the Paul McCartney.

She took a deep breath and a silent tear rolled down her cheek, "He doesn't trust me anymore."

"Oh, no, no, no." John held out his arms, "Come here."

She crawled out of her pit and over to John's, curling into his lap.

"I'm sure he still does. It's just a big misunderstanding." He petted her hair.

"No, he doesn't. And I don't trust him, either."

John felt that she was only saying that because she was upset, and sighed, giving up for the night. He rocked her till she drifted to sleep and he laid her down and was going to get up and piddle around the flat a bit, but when she snuggled up close to him and held tight to his collar he stayed with her.

…

George, Ringo and Paul arrived back several hours later and John was still awake. Paul saw the sleeping Anna and immediately walked straight to his white bed, slung off his shoes and laid down; not even bothering to get under the covers. The others watched him then exchanged looks. Nobody said a word and continued to get into their pajamas and into bed.

It was going to be a long couple of weeks.