Author's Note: Hello, everyone. Thank you for your reviews! Okay, so here it is, chapter fifteen for this story! :D

Paul's POV

I got the same tough luck as George. I got deported from Hamburg—so did Pete—for burning a used condom on a wall, and we were in a German jail for three hours. I remembered our Hamburg days as I packed my clothes in my suitcase. The first few days, George was being fucked by a prostitute, and we were in the same room, but we pretended to sleep. Man, that was fun.

And then we met the drummer of Rory Storm and His Hurricanes, Ringo Starr. Ringo is his stage name, but his real name is Richard Starkey. We watched the band play, and Ringo was a really great drummer. Better than Pete, I must admit. Rory was rocking as well. But I don't say that because I am in love with his sister, Iris. And then I thought of George, because he was in love with her, too. And then my thoughts drifted to Eleanor. What could she probably do with George right now? I shook my head, and thought of something else.

When Cynthia and Dot came to visit us in Hamburg. I asked Cynthia about Eleanor.

"Hey, Cynthia," I said to her, "where's Eleanor?"

"She's not joining us," she said.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Well, Dottie and I have pleaded her to come with us to Hamburg to visit you, but she said no, and said her parents won't allow her to go here with us." She said. "It's such a drag, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is." I said.

And way before they visited, John and I receive letters from Cynthia and Dot. We got photos of them in their black mini skirts, and their exposed short legs. And then I thought about Eleanor. Why wasn't she in the picture with them showing off her nice legs?

"Our little hookers from good ol' Liverpool," said John with a satisfied smile. "But Hamburg hookers are much better than Liverpool's."

I could only laugh, but it was sort of a bitter laugh.

"What's wrong, Paul? You need to jack off?" John asked teasingly with that well-known smirk of his.

"Hehe, no," I said, and shook my head. "Nothing's wrong, John. Everything's fine."

"Oh, I get it! You want to see Eleanor's legs, too, eh?" he asked with a smirk.

"Sod off! I don't want to see her legs!" I said with a frown.

"Hehe, sure," he said, and then walked away.

And then I met the blonde and German doppelganger of Eleanor. Her name was Erika, and she works as the bartender of the club the lads and I were performing in. She looked exactly like Eleanor! Which sort of surprised me! I thought it was really Eleanor, and I thought she dyed her hair blonde! But it wasn't Eleanor. I had done Beatrice, and I made her pregnant. And so, I'm sort of glad that I'm being deported.

"Paul, it's time to go," said Pete.

"Okay." I said, and carried my things.

We said goodbye to John, Stuart, and Astrid. Klaus drove Pete and I to the port. He wished us good luck in Liverpool, and we thanked him. Pete and I waved at him when the ship started to move. We would probably be back in Liverpool on Wednesday.

Eleanor's POV

I didn't see George on Monday during the bus ride to school. Ramona sat beside me in the bus, and I told her George didn't call me on Saturday after he promised me that he would call me again after he had eaten.

"It's either he has nothing to talk about with you, he's bored talking to you, or he's just shy, Eleanor," she said. "Maybe he's just shy, because, well…you know what he is."

"He is extremely shy," I said, and nodded my head in agreement.

"There you go," she said. "You should ask him when you meet him later. I don't see him in this bus!"

"Maybe he didn't come to school today," I said. "He looked really tired after the long trip from Hamburg to Liverpool. He…he sounded very tired when he called me."

"Maybe he'll come to school tomorrow," she said.

"Maybe…" I said.

And he did!

I saw George going in to the bus on Tuesday, and he saw me, because I was sitting on the second row of the bus. He smiled and greeted me.

"Good morning, George," I greeted him back with a smile, and patted the empty space beside me. "Sit with me?"

"Okay," he said, and then he sat beside me.

His arm was touching mine, and it sent shivers down my spine even though our arms were covered with the school dark blazers. The feeling was electrifying!

"Eleanor, I'm sorry that I didn't call you after I promised that I would call you again," he apologized humbly; he was looking at his long fingers. "I slept again after I ate, and woke up around six in the evening. You know how tired I was."

I looked at him. "It's okay, George, really," I said with an assuring smile. "I understand how tired you were."

He looked at me, and smiled. "Thank you for…understanding, Eleanor," he thanked me humbly.

"No problem, George," I said to him.

We walked to school together from the bus stop. We spoke about the things he did with the lads in Hamburg. The Hamburg Days, I called it.

"And then there was this one time, a prostitute shagged me in one room with the lads." He said, and I laughed. "It's true! I thought they were asleep under their covers, but they were actually wanking quietly as I was being fucked!"

That brought me into a happy laughter. George had a very interesting life. Joined The Quarry Men at the age of fourteen, went to Hamburg by seventeen, and lost his virginity to a prostitute. A very interesting life, indeed.

We now walked to school together ever since that day.

I was alone on Wednesday night. I went to Paul's house this morning before going to school, but he still wasn't home. I wanted to walk to school with Mike, but he had gone to school with his friends. George was sick, again, and so I had to go to school alone. My parents went to my grandmother's house after dinner, because she was extremely ill. I had a feeling that she was going to die by midnight or early in the morning tomorrow. I wanted to go, but my parents told me to stay and guard the house. I wasn't afraid of ghosts, but I was afraid of murderers! That's why I always lock myself in my room whenever I'm alone at home.

And then suddenly, I heard someone singing Are You Lonesome Tonight by Elvis Presley outside my room. I jumped up from my bed, very shocked of the sudden singing. The hairs on both of my arms stood—including on my back. I took the courage to look out the window, and was very relieved to see that it was Paul. Oh, my God! PAUL!"

"Paul!" I gasped, and immediately opened the window.

"Hello, Eleanor," he greeted me with his goofy grin. "Can I come in?"

"Of course, you can!" I said cheerfully.

He stepped in my room, and I closed the window. I immediately hugged him tightly, and buried my face on his firm shoulder. I felt like wanting to cry of happy tears, but I couldn't. I was so glad to see Paul again. I was smelling his well-known sweet scent once again. He was now dressed in leather, and his hair was all spiked-up—just like how George dressed.

"It's so good to see you again!" I said as I let go off him. "My, oh my! You look different, now! More handsome, I must admit!"

He chuckled, and winked at me. Oh, my! That wink! "Thank you," he said, and smiled at me. "Come here, and let me hug you."

I went back to his warm and comfortable embrace, which I missed very much.

"It's so good to hug you, again," he said, rubbing my back.

"And it's so good to hear your annoying voice, again," I said with a laugh, and planted a kiss on his cheek. I looked at his handsome hazel eyes, and felt my heart pounding in my chest.

"When did you arrive?" I asked, breaking the silence.

"This morning," he said. "Is it okay if I stay here just for the night?"

"What about your dad?" I asked.

He smiled mischievously. "He doesn't know I'm here," he said. "I sneaked out of my house so I can sleep over at your house."

"Of course, you can, Paul," I said. "But where will you sleep?"

"Well, I can always sleep with you…on the bed," he said, "like before."

It didn't feel awkward that night when Paul and I slept in the same bed. Then it meant it wouldn't feel awkward for the second time.

"Sure," I said with a smile. "You got deported?"

"Yeah," he said, "how d'you know?"

I giggled, and rolled my eyes playfully. "Lucky guess."

"Pete and I got deported, actually." He said.

"I see," I said. "And what about John and Stuart?"

"Still in Hamburg."

"What made you and Pete deported? George got deported for being under age, and what about you?"

He laughed, and scratched the back of his head. "You won't believe what I will tell you." He said.

"Oh, yeah?" I asked, sitting on my bed. "Try me."

He chuckled, and scratched the back of his head—the sign that means his nervous. "Pete and I burned a use condom on the wall," he said with a grin as he took off his black leather jacket, and set it on the chair.

I burst out into laughter, and lied down on my bed, laughing.

"Burned a condom!" I laughed with my eyes closing. That sounded very silly and stupid for me, and that was why I laughed. I sat on the bed, and sighed. "Oh, Paul, you're such a silly git!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he said with a smile as he sat on the end of my bed. "That's your pajama?"

"Yes, why?" I asked him back with an eyebrow raised.

He laughed, and shook his head. "Nothing."

"Suit yourself, then," I said, and threw a pillow at his face. I laughed when the pillow landed on his lap after hitting his face.

"It is war, then," he said, and threw the pillow back to me, but I dodged, and it the board of the bed.

I grabbed the pillow, and hit Paul with it really hard as we both laughed in excitement.

"Okay! Okay! Stop!" he said, laughing. "Please stop!"

I stopped, and he took advantage of it by tickling me on my sides—my two weak spots. I lied down on the bed, and laughed and begged as he tickled me. He straddled on top of me, but I didn't realize it.

"Paul! Paul! Please! Hahah! Please stop!" I begged while laughing out loud. It was a good thing my parents went to my grandmother's house.

"Never!" he said, and kept on tickling me.

I grabbed both of his wrists, and he tried to tickle me again, but failed, because we ended up looking at each other deeply. We were looking at each other the way we never looked at each other before. His eyes seemed friendly when he usually looked at me. But now…his eyes seemed as if he was…in love with me. I thought he was going to kiss me on the lips, but he didn't. I was relieved and disappointed at the same time. And I realized he was still straddling on top of me, and I was really glad—even though I could feel his…you know, on my…you know.

He smiled at me. "Well, that was fun," he said.

"Which part?" When I tortured you, or when you tortured me?" I asked with a smile.

"The part when I tortured you, Eleanor, my love," he said, and planted a kiss on my forehead. He kissed me on the forehead instead.

He rolled over, and lied down beside me. Our eyes were looking up the ceiling as we caught our breaths after laughing. My heart was still beating nervously, even though he wasn't looking at me. His eyes were so hypnotizing. I just realized it now. There was a strange feeling in the deep pit of my stomach. I couldn't explain what that feeling was.

"It's cold," he remarked, breaking the silence. "Let's use the blanket.

We covered ourselves with the blanket, and kept our eyes looking at the ceiling.

"Your parents aren't home?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Nope." I said. "They're at my grandmother's house, because she's ill and she might die tonight."

He looked at me, and held my hand, which brought electric shocks to my body. "I'm so sorry, Eleanor," he said softly.

I looked at him, and managed a smile. "It's okay," I said. "We all don't know why she's dying. Not of old age, but of a really dangerous virus. It's not cancer, because she's not losing her hair." I shook my head. "Let's not speak of this."

He squeezed my hand. "Alright," he said, and then planted a kiss on my cheek. "Good night, love."

"Good night, Paul," I said with a whispering voice.

He closed his eyes, and immediately went into a deep sleep. I kept on looking at him until I felt very sleepy. I found myself smiling, and finally realized what that strange 'feeling' inside me was. It was love. I was in love with Paul. And I'm not afraid to admit it to the world. But to Paul? I'm not sure…

"I love you, Paul," I whispered, and smiled wider. Hopefully, he didn't hear what I said in my sleep.

Author's Note: So, how was that? You can tell me by reviewing, as always ;) I'm feeling sort of...broken-hearted, so maybe your reviews might cheer me up. Now, I'm going to sleep and cry. Have a nice day, everyone! May your day be better than mine. :)