Author's Note: Hi, everyone! How are you? Good? Okay. I was supposed to publish this chapter yesterday, but my brother was using the laptop until quite late at night. By the way, yesterday was Marianne Faithfull's birthday! ^_^

Enjoy this chapter, beloved readers!

P.S. Thank you for your reviews, and thank you to Alene236 for adding this story to your story alert. I love you, guys! 3

Paul's POV

I was out having tea with Eleanor in the café near school. She told me that was her favorite place to hang out. I suppose, cafés are a trend for Eleanor, now, because she often goes to cafés, and dress in black or in a very stylish way. Back when she was around thirteen or fifteen, she still went out to diners and wear big bubble skirts. What had happened to Eleanor now? She looked completely different.

"Eleanor…is this part of your French influence?" I asked her.

"What do you mean?" she asked, not looking up from her book.

"You know…all of a sudden you're dressed in black, going to cafés all the time, especially here," I said.

"No, not really. I'm not smoking, aren't I?"

"No, you're not."

"I'm not that influenced with the French culture, Paul. I just like to dress in black, go to cafés, read books, s'all. And I'm starting to be fond of writing. I suppose, it's part of growing up for me."

"Oh." I said, and sipped my tea.

I looked at the book she was reading. Bonjour Tristesse by Francoise Sagan. How did she get that book? Didn't I buy her a French-English, English-French dictionary? Who got her that book?

"Eleanor, where did you get that book?" I asked her.

"Oh, Mike bought it for me," she said. "He's right. I like it very much."

"What does tristesse mean?" I asked.

"It means 'sadness', Paul," she said.

"Doesn't seem to be quite a happy book."

"It's a nice book, Paul. Don't judge a book by its cover. And it's not all about sadness. Cécile can be pretty happy some times, here. Whenever she's around with Cyril."

"Is it just like when you're around with me, hm?" I asked with a cheeky smile.

She looked up from the book with a straight face, and then smiled at me. "Paul, you cheeky git."

"Which you adore so much that you possibly don't know what to do when I'm not there with you." I said.

"Paul, I love you, but you can be so dramatic some times," she said, and then covered her face with the book again. "Stop it, alright? You're driving me mad."

I giggled, and lighted a cigarette. "Alright, I'll stop bothering you," I said, and looked around the room.

I saw a bloke—quite good-looking—was looking at Eleanor with a fascinated look on his pretty face. His eyes went down, and he licked his lips. God, he's disgusting.

"Eleanor, can you please look up from your book?" I asked her.

She uncovered her face with her book, and she looked at me with a straight face and an eyebrow raised. "What is it this time, Paul?" she asked.

"Can you please pretend that you're my girlfriend?" I asked.

"What for? To look cool in front of your pals? So that they think you're fooling around behind Dorothy?" she asked.

"No, it's not for that. It's because, there's a good-lookin' perverted bloke staring you," I said with a soft voice so people wouldn't hear.

"Let him look, I don't mind," she said, and then continued reading her book.

Eleanor's POV

Paul could be very annoying some times. I was reading a really good book, and he's disturbing me saying there's a perverted bloke looking at me. I would like to believe you, Paul, but not now.

"Oh, shite, here he comes," he said softly, and then looked away.

I ignored him, and kept on reading.

Suddenly, I felt a tall person standing next to our table. I remained reading my book, and waited for the person to speak.

"Excuse me, Miss, but are you with your brother?" he asked.

I looked up from my book, and looked at him. He was quite good-looking. But it's a shame he's a pervert.

"Oh, no, I'm having a little date with my boyfriend here," I said, looking and smiling at Paul. "I'm ignoring him, because I'm trying to experiment with our relationship, so we can be closer than ever."

"Yes, that's very true," he said, smiling sweetly at me like how boyfriends usually smile to their girlfriends.

"Oh, I see," said the stranger, disappointed. "Sorry to disturb you, then."

"It's all right, lad," I said with a polite smile, and then he walked away.

Paul and I looked at each other, and I had to hold my laughter. We grinned at each other, and laughed a little.

"Do we look like we're siblings?" I asked him.

"No, we don't," he said, shaking his head.

"Good." I sighed. "That was fun, though. Pretending we were dating and all."

"Why? D'you want to do that kind of thing again?" he asked with a cheeky grin.

Yes! "No, Paul." I said with a straight face. What are you saying? Say yes! "I can hear your thoughts, Paul. No."

"Oh, damn it!" he sighed, and leaned back on his chair.

I smiled at him, and then read my book again. What was I doing? I should've said yes! Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid—

"Hey, Eleanor," he said.

"Yes, Paul?" I responded, looking up from the book.

He smiled at me that handsome smile of his that made me feel weak in the knees. "You deserve to be looked at that way, you know?" he said, smiling kindly.

I smiled at him back. "Thank you, Paul."

(~o~)

December 29

This is my first entry here, and I do not know what to call you. Must I call you "diary" or "journal"? Or by name? Oh, I've got a better idea! Paper heart! I'll call you my paper heart.

Right, so…

Dear Paper Heart,

Let me introduce myself. I'm Eleanor Walker, and I am seventeen years old. I live in Liverpool, England with two of my parents. I'm an only child. It's sad, but true. But I don't get lonely so often, because I have two greatest friends in the whole universe! And they are Paul and Ramona. I'm closer to Paul, because I first met him. He's a family friend. Ramona is a school friend. I go to Liverpool Institute for Girls, and Paul goes to Liverpool Institute for Boys.

It's four days after Christmas, and everything still seems so merry and festive. I got you for Christmas, by the way. From mum.

It's past midnight, and I still can't sleep.

I suddenly heard a knock on my window, and I looked out. I saw Paul in front of it, and the sky was dark. I closed my diary, and walked to the window.

"What are you doing here, Paul?" I asked him as I opened the window.

"Surprising you again," he said with a grin, and he invited himself in. "Not asleep?"

"No, not yet," I said, closing the window. "Apparently, I'm not tired yet."

He laughed a little, and sat on the edge of my bed. "Are your parents asleep?" he asked.

"Yes, they are," I said, approaching him. "Why are you here, Paul?" I sat next to him on the bed.

"I thought I'd visit you, you know," he said. "Have a little chat, which we didn't have the time to this afternoon."

I chuckled heartily. "I'm sorry about this afternoon, Paulie," I said.

"Oh, yeah, yeah, s'alright," he said, smiling. "After all, I had a nice afternoon."

"So, what is it that you want to talk about with me?" I asked, smiling at him.

He smiled at me, and my heart started to race when I looked into his handsome hazel eyes. Oh, God, why must they be so handsome?

"Dorothy came to my room this afternoon while we were away," he said slowly with both of his eyebrows raised. "She found the letters from my German girl."

"Your German girl?" I repeated.

"Yeah, my German girl. I've one back in Germany." He said. "She sends me these lovey dovey letters, and also saying that she couldn't wait for me to come back to Hamburg."

Hearing this broke my heart a little. Knowing he had two girls—one in Liverpool, and one in Germany. Paul was a playboy. I'd known that for quite a long time, but why was I still hanging around with him?

Unconditional love, I suppose.

"What's her name? Your German girl?" I asked.

"Erika." He said. "I knocked her up."

I raised both of my eyebrows in shock. "You did?" I asked.

"Don't tell it to anyone, but yes…I did knock her up."

"Oh, Paul…and what about Dorothy? You knocked her up, too, didn't you?" I demanded softly, standing up from my bed.

"Yes, I did, but she had a miscarriage, and you know that, don't you?" he said.

I softened my gaze at him. "And what are you going to do now?" I asked him softly.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I can't break up with Erika," he said, "and I possibly can't break up with Dottie." He looked at me with sad eyes. "What do I do, Ellie?"

I sighed. I didn't know what to tell him. I couldn't just tell him to break up with both of them.

"Do you love Dottie?" I asked him.

"Yes."

"Do you love Erika?"

He paused right there. He pursed his lips, and then shook his head.

"Well, I'm afraid, you have to break up with Erika, Paul," I said. "If you're using her just for sex, well, you have to break up with her. A girl wants more than just sex, Paul. You have to know that. Some day, if you're still sticking around with her, she's begging you to tell her that you love her. And I know that will be tough for you, because you only need her for sex, and that's it." I sat down next to him.

"You're right. I'll give her a call tomorrow morning." He said, and then hugged me. "Thank you, Eleanor."

I could feel my heart thumping my chest, and I had an uneasy feeling inside my stomach. I smiled, and rested my head on his shoulder. "You're welcome, Paul. You will be making me happy if you stop hugging me." I said.

"But I'm so grateful that I should hug you till death, Eleanor," he replied. "You make me so happy, don't you know that, love?"

"No, I don't."

He looked at me. "Well, now you know, darling." He said, and then planted a kiss on my cheek. Paul should stop kissing me nowadays, but I quite enjoy his kisses so much. He should kiss me on the lips some time.

"Can I sleep over for the night, love?" he asked.

"Why not?" I said.

He lied down on the bed, and I lied down next to him. We were both looking out the window as if it was a television or something. He set his hand on my shoulder, and I rested my head on his shoulder.

"Eleanor?" he began.

"Hm?"

"Do you want to know…why you're my best friend?" he asked.

"Why?"

"Because you're always there for me when I'm in need or not, and you're always supporting me." He said. "You're just like my mother, don't you know that?"

"Am I?"

"Yes. At some ways."

I closed my eyes, and buried my face on his neck. I lied down on my side, and hugged him.

"And do you want to know why you're my best friend, Paul?" I asked.

"Why?"

"Because you're so damn funny and hopeless, I can't just leave you all alone…especially when you're all messed up like this." I said with a smile.

He giggled, and he hugged me tightly. "I love you, Eleanor."

I didn't say anything, and pretended to sleep. Did he love me like a sister, or like how he loves Dorothy? Now, I'm confused. Thank you, Paul. Thank you for making me confused.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading, everyone. And don't forget to review ;)

All my love,

Fool on the Hill Far Far Away

P.S. Don't watch videos about Paul's death hoax on Youtube.