AN: Hi! I'm really sorry for not having a new part for such a long time, I've had a lot going on, and no time or inspiration to work on this fic. Again I'm sorry. I hope you're still interested in this story and also that you enjoy this part. Let me know what you think of it? :)
I slept soundly, I don't think I've slept that well in such a long time, and I thought I had dreamt it all when I had woken up. I hadn't yet opened my eyes yet, but I heard cars honking their horns from outside and angry voices from downstairs, the normal sounds from back home.
I turn over with a groan and I open my sleepy eyes to see the blank wall of a room that is not my bedroom, and I remember that I'm in Paul's bedroom, in his bed, in 1963. It's still hard to comprehend, but nonetheless I feel relief at realizing that I didn't dream it. I yawn and close my eyes as the last thing I want to do is to leave this warm, soft bed, but I hear footsteps that get louder and I turn over to see Paul dozing on the floor next to the bed. The footsteps fade out and I flip myself over to face away from the wall, and to look at Paul's kind of big room. He has a few posters of Chuck Berry, Elvis and Carl Perkins on his bedroom walls along with some black and white pictures hanging by a tack on the wall across from me and I recognize the other three guys, his parents and brother to be in them. I take a few more glances to notice a dark brown dresser to be against the wall right below the collage of pictures, and a closet with its doors shut is to it's right.
I hear the rustling of something and I tear my eyes away from the dresser over on that side of the room to find Paul to be moving around on the uncomfortable looking spot on the carpeted floor and his eyes open. I lay back down to stare up at his bland ceiling and I play with the hem of the blanket that lays over me. I hear Paul yawn and groan as I space out.
"Courtney love, are you awake?" Paul whispers in his sleepy voice, one that I admit I find very attractive.
Whoever said that boys are cuter when they had just woken up with that scruffy voice masked by sleep sure was right.
"Yeah." I reply and he sits up and I notice he no longer is wearing a shirt and he steps out from his sleeping bag to rest his arms on his knees.
"Did you sleep well, love?" he questions and as much as I hate to I tear my eyes away from his white, toned chest.
"Mmhmm, did you?" I reply after I sit up and I flick my long hair off my shoulder, I've been thinking about getting it cut the past few weeks.
"Yeah, it was alright down here, but with all these blankets it got a bit sweaty so I took off my shirt." he replies and he seems to be embarrassed or something about being shirtless, but he doesn't need to be.
We both snap our heads towards the direction of the loud voices coming from downstairs where it seems a few somebodies aren't getting along. Paul stands up to walk to his door and I have to tell myself, of course not out loud, to not stare at him. I move to get up, but Paul holds out his hand for me to stop and I stay put on this mattress of his.
"Just stay here, Court, they've probably just gotten into some rubbish argument."
"Who's they?" I ask and I run my hand through my messy, red hair.
"I dunno, John's probably one of them. He doesn't exactly have the best temper." he replies and he opens the door to go downstairs and I almost follow because I realize that I need to use the bathroom, but I don't want to walk in on anything in fear of making it worse.
I continue to hear the yelling while I fiddle with the bracelet on my wrist as I sit cross legged.
"Hey, would you two shut up for a moment?! Now what the hell are you screaming your lungs out at each other for?" I hear Paul yell louder than both of the two unknown voices and I no longer hear yelling.
I quickly braid my mane of red hair as I sit there with nothing to do, and I quickly braid the long pieces and I secure them with a ponytail from my wrist. Footsteps come up the stairs and I expect Paul to walk in, but to my surprise Ringo does in baggy pajamas.
"Hey, you alright up here? I never like it when any of us fight." he questions and he takes a seat in a chair at the end of Paul's bed.
"Yeah I'm fine, I hate it when people fight. My parents used to do a lot of it." I reply and I raise my eyes that were set on the blanket to meet Ringo's droopy, blue eyes, the brightest pair I've ever seen.
"I'm sorry about that, but you say used to, did something happen?" he questions.
"Well I meant it by they just got divorced." I remark and he nods his head in understanding.
"I'm sorry again."
"It's nothing." I comment, even though that's technically a lie.
"What're they fighting about?" I wonder aloud and Ringo exhales a breath and fiddles with a ring on one of his fingers.
"If you really wanna know, John isn't too pleased about you staying here." he reveals and all I can do is to nod my head up and down silently.
"He doesn't like me, huh?"
"No, I don't think it's that. He just isn't so easy to trust with people, and he's concerned about money and all." he tries to reassure me and I think.
"Why isn't he living with Cynthia?" I think before I speak.
"How do you know he's with Cyn?" he questions and I try to come up with some kind of convincing response.
"Paul uh told me." I reply and again I hear yelling come from downstairs, I hate it when people raise their voice.
"Would you do me a favor for me please?" I state after I think about a decision that I make.
"Sure." Ringo replies and I ask him to grab the boutique bag, and my backpack and things from downstairs to bring up to me.
He agrees and returns with them after not even a minute and he gives me privacy to change out of Paul's loose fitting clothes into my old pair of jeans and into my gray sweater. I find paper and a pencil on Paul's dresser to write a note saying I'm leaving and that he can return the clothes, I hate annoying people, and I most definitely don't want to be the reason for people arguing with each other.
"Are you leaving?" Ringo asks after I step into the hall from Paul's room with my backpack on my shoulders and I nod.
"What, why?"
"I'm just bothering you guys and I'm making you fight with each other, I should have never came and I'm sorry." I reply and I start for the staircase up ahead, but I stop when I hear what he has to say.
"You're not bothering us love, you're a joy to be in the same room with, and Paul loves you being here. I know it. George thinks you're funny and a nice girl, as do I, and as for John he's John. But don't leave, it's not exactly a nice place out there being by yourself." he says and I process what he has to say, but I go on to the steps that I go down and I find the empty kitchen and living room, at least I can escape without a struggle.
I close the door after me and I start down the line of sidewalk with my arms crossed over my chest as I'm scared stiff. Cars, double decker buses, people on bikes and business type people walking to work pass me while I have no idea where I'm going. I cross the street and I look back to their flat where the door is closed and I hope they're getting along without me there, I just didn't want to be some burden. I cross another street when the cars stop at the red light and I don't hear the voice calling after me while I avoid the outside world. I thought for once that somebody actually cared about me and that somebody wanted me, but I must of been too distracted having the famous beatles in front of me to notice the truth. I at first didn't notice but this teenaged guy in leather started to follow me on the sidewalk and I made a few turns because of him and he didn't go another way each time, he stayed right on my tail. I finally got away from him when I crossed another intersection ridden with crazy traffic and he was left behind, Ringo was right that it's not so safe out here all alone by yourself. In 2012 you're never exactly safe by yourself with all of the cuckoos and weirdos walking the streets drunk or with some knife on their waist, or maybe that's just where I'm from. I feel a hand on my shoulder and I gasp and snap around to see the soft face that slept next to the bed I laid in earlier this morning, but now his face is clouded over with concern. He coughs and is seemingly out of breath.
"Paul?" I question and I look him up and down to see that he's in jeans and a button up that he tried to tuck into his jeans, but a few bits are peeking out, was somebody in a hurry?
"Why'd ya run off?" he questions in a stern and urgent tone and I turn around to walk off, but he holds onto my shoulder which stops me.
"What are you thinking just walking off when you don't know this town, and when one of us aren't with you? I saw that creepy bloke following you, and I don't even wanna think what he was thinking about you." he walks around to face me and I move my book bag that's starting to weigh heavy on my shoulder.
"You didn't read the note?" I think aloud in hardly a whisper and he looks confused.
"What note?"
"Paul, just leave me alone, please." I say, but I'm lying to myself and to him, I don't want to leave him.
"You... No...You aren't trying to leave leave, now are you?" he says in between pauses and I bite my bottom lip.
"What do you think?" I ask with no expression and he stuffs his hands in his pockets and I think about walking off again, but I don't want to.
"Where are you planning on going, huh? Considering you're from the states, definitely not here. You don't know this place, and it's a big town. You'd get lost, Courtney!" he says and I huff.
"I'm not a little kid, Paul! I can take care of myself." I fight back, but I know he won't be giving in by the look on his face.
"To me you are." he argues and I shake my head.
"Just because I'm two years younger than you doesn't make you any more mature than me!" I disagree after thinking of how we shared our birthdays last night before bed and I leave my stance there in front of his rigid figure in my worn tennis shoes.
Sure enough he follows after me, he just won't give up while tears threaten to break through the floodgates of my eyes and he gets in front of me. I try to dodge him and walk around him but we both go the same way once or twice and I give up and walk the other way now crying. I stop to stand in front of a dirty, brick wall here in the alley and I feel his hand on my arm and he turns me towards him to face him and he pulls me into his arms, I somehow let him. I cry into his chest while I grip his shoulders and he rubs my back and cradles my head.
"Don't cry darling, it's okay." he attempts to comfort me with his now soft voice, but I can't stop, I've held all of this in for so long.
Once I finally got it all out, unfortunate onto his nice shirt, I stand there in his patient arms while he sings to me in his voice that I have always found solace in. I couldn't count the times when school got to be too much, when I got in a fight with a friend, when my mom had made some rude comment to me that added the last stick onto the pile where I just broke down and cried while listening to my iPod that played Beatles songs or Paul's solo career. When nobody else was there for me, the beatles were, Paul was. Music has always been there for me.
"You're okay, it's okay." his British accented voice says and he goes back to singing while I stay silent no longer crying.
"Close your eyes and I'll kiss you, tomorrow I'll miss you. Remember I'll always be true, and then while I'm away I'll write home every day.." he sings softly, I've always liked this song, he did such a great job performing it on Ed Sullivan in what will be 5 months.
I sniffle and raise my head to meet his hazel eyes that set themselves on me and I feel bad that he saw my cry, I'm usually not like that in front of people I don't know, I keep a lot to myself. I wipe my cheeks and lean against the building wall and I stare at the ground.
"Do you want to finally tell me that story that keeps putting you in tears?" he suggests and I look to him.
"But-." I protest but he interrupts.
"I know that it's long and it may sound pathetic, but there's a nice restaurant around the corner with the best chips and burgers in town, and their malts are killer. What'd ya say? I wanna hear this story, 'cause I don't like seeing a lovely girl like you crying." he barges in and I nod my head up and down.
He takes my hand and leads me down the dark alleyway back to the lit sidewalk and we approach the fancy looking diner where i see from the window couples sitting in booths, and we walk through the door to get a booth of their own.
I sit across from him and I set my bag next to me and I don't touch the menu. The waitress approaches us in a pencil skirt with a buttoned sweater and glasses.
"Hello loves, what can I get you two today?" the older looking lady greets us and I see her name tag to read 'Pearl'.
"We'll have two of your burgers, two things of chips, and two chocolate malts please for the lady and I." Paul orders for us both and he fixes his kind of messy hair.
He sees me looking at him and he flashes me a warm smile, and I suddenly know that everything is going to be okay.
"Now how about you tell me that story I never got to hear, hmm?" he proposes and I sigh and look at the red table top, it looks like I'm about to bare it all, there's so much to tell to this man who i look up to, where do I begin?