Chapter Four: Starting Over

JOHN POV

"I love you." I whispered into Paul's ear, and pressed my cheek to his. The scratchy stubble dug into my skin, and I was reminded of all the gashes he'd caused to himself that I ended up treating, despite my dislike of blood.

Paul squeezed my hand, and pushed past me into the apartment. He shot a smug smile, and kicked off his shoes onto a woven mat. I scowled and slammed the door shut with force, but not enough to startle Paul.

"No 'I love you, John'?" I asked, letting a bit of annoyance seep into my voice. The two of us just got engaged again, or so I thought, and he didn't care to express his love? Well then.

He turned and wrapped his arms around my neck. Looking into my eyes, I felt like he was swimming into my soul. "Nope. You get an 'I love you more than anything in the world, John'."

I kissed him passionately, and pulled his muscular body closer to me. Love flowed through our lips like a never ending waterfall, and lust radiated off our bodies. Paul threaded his fingers through my hair, and I fluttered mine to his waist. The cold metal of his ring pressed into the flesh of my ear, and I made sure to touch the nearly identical one onto the skin of his hip.

Paul pulled away, and rested his forehead against mine. We embraced each other for what felt like an hour, just holding each other and listening to the other's breathing.

I rocked us to a beat playing in my head, and the memories of our first dance flooded my brain. Molding Paul into the correct form, I poised the two of us into standard waltz posture with him playing the female. Without a word exchanged, we danced to no music, just stepped and twirled to the tune playing in our heads. Our bodies swayed in perfect sync.

Somehow, we ended up in the kitchen sometime later and I wasn't surprised to feel the familiar pang of hunger that so often frequented my being. Paul eyed a box of cornflakes longingly, and I could tell he felt the same.

"Hungry, are you?" I asked as I separated myself from him. Paul nodded, and made a move towards the refrigerator happily. Carefully, I took two porcelain bowls from the cupboard above the sink, the nice crystal ones that Yoko and I only used for special occasions. The delicate glass shined in the fading sun, and sent little rainbows onto the walls.

Paul took the only carton of milk from the chilly fridge, and set it gently on the counter. I poured a generous amount of cereal into the pair of bowls and then sent a spiral of creamy milk chasing after it. After shoveling a spoonful into my mouth, I led Paul over to the tiny dining table. He caught me in a kiss, and took his helping out of my hands.

"Eat up before it gets all soggy." I warned from experience.

Paul chuckled and ate nearly half of his dinner in one mouthful. "I won't, trust me."

"I always do." I sweetly purred while taking a sip of the leftover milk pooling in the bottom.

As we finished, it became known that the wives deserved a call. Yoko would be worried sick if I didn't send her a line, and Linda would probably feel the same about Paul. I finished my meal first, and therefore was forced to make the job first.

The line rang once before the Asian woman frantically answered. "Father?"

"Hi, Mother." I replied, catching Paul's eye. He shyly looked away and picked at his fingernail awkwardly. "How are you?"

"Good, good. Sean's good, I'm good, we're all good." Yoko sputtered out. "How are you feeling today?"

I ran my fingers through my hair and responded "I'm fine. Paul visited today, it was lovely. I really missed him."

Paul covered his mouth with his hand, and winked. I kicked his shin under the table, and trailed my toe up his pant leg.

"Oh, that's great." Yoko said with no emotion, almost as if she was slightly jealous.

We made small talk for a few more minutes, before Sean's high-pitched cries filled the air. Yoko bid me a goodnight and promised to talk tomorrow. I blew a kiss to the woman, and to my infant son as I pressed the end call button.

Paul went next, and hesitantly took the phone from my outstretched hand. I could see the pain in his eyes as he listened to his wife's voice and then his children's. Guilt and many other horrible feelings swarmed into my brain at the sight. I saw what I was doing to this man, and I didn't like it.

When he eventually hung up, Paul put on a brave face. "Well, what-"

"I'm sorry." I apologized sincerely.

Shock and confusion crossed his face, and he shook his head slowly. "No, John. Don't be sorry. If you recall, this whole mess was my fault. I was the one who called everything off."

"I know, but-"

He placed a finger to my lips. "No, John. No."

I took his hand and kissed each finger before setting it back onto the table. "Thank you."