AN: Hey, guys, this story is back! Kind of. I'm sorry that it's been so long since I last updated with a chapter. Anyways, here's a new chapter that I hope you like and that you won't find boring! Hopefully I'll be updating this story pretty often in the coming weeks, but I'm not too positive that I will be. Leave a review if you want, I'd love to read it and what you think of this chapter!
Words can't describe or explain how simply amazing it was to watch my favorite band rehearse songs and record a few right in front of me, and to see them in their natural element. I saw how Paul is such a perfectionist wanting everything just right and how he could butt heads with John who isn't all that into details, and how all four of them are really so dedicated to produce a fantastic sounding song that they would be proud of. After the few breaks and when they finished work for the day we left to pile back into the car and I got a seat by Paul as they all spoke about some place in town they heard about from a friend.
I was looking at the two bracelets Paul had gotten me and how pretty they are with the intertwining colored strands as the others chatted amongst themselves.
"Hey, is something wrong? You've been mighty quiet today." Paul states and my eyes leave the bracelet to meet his hazel pair.
"No, nothing's wrong. I'm fine." I reply and he nods his raven haired head slowly still with that off, confused look from before.
"Are you sure?" he questions and I nod my head 'yes' and the look fades, but I feel like that for some reason he isn't convinced.
He returns to the conversation going on between the other three and we soon arrive at this rollerblading place and we enter to find it completely deserted, and we're immediately serviced.
The rollerblading rink was simply a blast with a few of us falling on our butts, sure that our butts will be bruised tomorrow from hitting the hardwood floor so many times and that we're in need for a bath to get rid of the sweat. It was some of the most fun I've had in quite a long time with the laughing, the joking and holding hands with Paul as we rollerbladed around the wooden rink. He insisted because we both kept on tripping and falling over our feet.
"Hey, time to wake up!" I hear a booming voice that could only be Paul's interrupt my peaceful sleeping and I groan into the soft pillow my face is pressed up against.
"No thank you. Your bed is way too comfy right now to get up." I respond as I shift in the bed and I feel him peel the quilt off of me and I huff.
"I can tell that you are taking a fancy to it, but it's nearing six, and we have a place to be, love."
"What are you talking about? No we don't." I respond as his British accent lingers in my mind and then his hearty laugh enters my ears.
"Ah, my dear, you really did just wake up, huh?"
"Leave me alone." I whine in response and I open my eyes and turn to see him grinning that sly grin of his that I feel as if I have memorized from the hundreds of times I saw it in pictures, videos on YouTube and now I've seen it right in front of my eyes too many times to count.
"But, darling, we have that pottery class to be getting to!" he insists and I sigh but then smile. I have been looking awfully forward to going to it tonight, I must admit.
"Ah, there's that smile. I'll let you get dressed, and I'll be waiting downstairs. Don't take too long now."
"Yeah yeah, shoo." I reply and he winks at me before getting up from the twin bed to shut the door behind him.
I purse my lips while thinking of the outfits I can list at the top of my head and I flip the warm quilt back onto the bed. I walk over to the bed's end to find the box with clothes from John's girl Cynthia. I pull out a knee length black skirt and a teal shirt that has short sleeves and which buttons up. After slipping out of the pj's I wore last night and ones in which I fell asleep in I straighten back up and tuck the shirt into the skirt before reaching to my back to zip it up. I cock my body to face the small mirror here in Paul's plain bedroom and I look to my messy hair that I'm embarrassed I let Paul see like this. Just, wow. I rake my fingers through it and part it into three sections as the hair tie is held between my teeth.
"Will you hurry up? We're gonna be late if you take any longer!" Paul calls up the stairs with the humor oozing from his voice and I shake my head with a small grin as I quickly fishtail braid my red hair that still feels long even after the haircut.
"Oh, hush, you!" I bellow back with the smirk taking over my lips and I reach down for my bag sitting on the chair that is pressed against the wall.
I twist the door handle and shut the door behind me as I reach into my small bag to find the tube of Chapstick that I run over my pink lips. I dash down the steps to find Paul with his hands casually in his pant's pockets as he leans against the doorway of the kitchen. When I land on the floor from the last step of the staircase he looks up to me and flashes me a small smile.
"Lets get going, and do this bloody pottery class then." he grumbles as he turns for the door and I slip on my shoes before following after him to the car.
"You sound mighty excited."
"Can you tell?" he replies as I duck into the car and he slams the door behind him while fishing his car keys from his pocket.
"Only a tiny bit." I respond as I watch the cranky guy bring the car to life and he opens the glove box over by me to retrieve a pack of cigarettes from it.
I huff and turn to look out the window as I hear the strike of a match and soon him exhaling. I roll down the window to escape the horrid smell that reminds me of my mother who would suck on one of those again and again. It was like one after the other. I lean over to inhale the wind as he pulls into traffic.
"Oh, I'm sorry, is it bothering you?" he asks and I decide to slowly nod my head as the buildings, cars and people pass us one by one.
I hear him roll his window down and soon the smell becomes fainter. I stare out the window as the wind hits me directly until we arrive at the little art center that looks rather empty.
"I thought you wanted to go." I state as we walk up to the pair of double doors painted yellow. What an odd and incredibly bright color.
"I do want to." he doesn't convince me as he politely holds the door open for me and we follow a sign that points us in the direction of the few pottery studios where people are going to be dispersed into.
Paul and I arrive at an empty one that has a wide floor to ceiling window apart of the room's back window. I set my bag on the wooden table surrounded by stools, here in this small room. I glance over to the few mechanical wheels that has a foot pedal on the floor which is attached to a little electric motor. The ones we have in the future are much nicer, but the ones in this time are much more fancier than I was expecting. I glance over to the table near the window where a plastic bag of new clay sits and then I look to the two sinks behind the table. I turn my head to look at Paul who leans against the edge of the table with a far away look in his eyes. I was afraid of this.
"We didn't have to come, you know, and I'm sure they could give us a refund." I state as I grab my bag from his side and his eyes dart to me. He sighs.
"Court-." he begins and I shake my head and lift my feet to start for the door, but he gently grabs my wrist to pull me back.
"You don't want to be here, I get that. I just thought it would be fun for us to do together and-." I ramble before he cuts off my words with his smooth lips planting a kiss on mine. His hand goes to my cheek to sit there while we slowly kiss for a short moment, a sweet moment.
Afterwards he clears his throat while his cheeks turn a light pink and I tuck a lost strand of my hair behind my ear, "I uh didn't know how else to get you stop talking on like you women do," I scoff at him and he chuckles and then winks at me. "But it worked and it was I admit awfully nice. Anyways, I want to stay and make some clay masterpiece with you. But there is one condition."
"What is it? Not throwing any clay at you?" I tease and he shakes his head and then scratches his pale chin.
"No, you have to help me, because you're the artist and I'm the one who's never touched clay. Remember?" he responds and I nod my head and step forward to undo the button on his blazer.
"What're you doing?"
"You're going to get it all dirty if you leave it on, you dork." I respond and he nods and slips it off to toss on a stool.
He kisses me on the cheek briefly before I walk away to grab two blue aprons from the nail on the wall and I toss one at the grinning fella who stands in a pair of jeans and a gray button-down. It's a good thing that he didn't over dress or anything.
"Alright, do you wanna maybe try the wheel with me?" I question as I stride over to the table with the clay. He makes a funny face as he thinks and I open the bag to touch the cold block of brown clay.
"No thanks, love. I'll leave the making of masterpieces to you while I make the easy stuff that looks as if a third grader made it." he comments and I shake my head with a laugh as I struggle to tie my apron. He notices and walks on over to take the strings.
"Let me, darling." he insists and I smile to myself. I really should consider myself lucky to be here, to for once be happy and to have him.
I grab the wire cutters sitting beside the large bag that isn't the only one here and I cut a chunk big enough for me that I weigh. I cut a slab for Paul that I hand him after he tied my apron and he did his own.
"Ta. Okay, I feel dumb asking this but what exactly should I do?"
"Well you can get a little bowl of water to use and then you can pinch it to make a bowl or whatever you want." I answer him and I carry my chunk of clay over to the table and we both grab a mat to work on.
"I'm kind of surprised nobody else is in here, but I suppose that's 'cause of those other studios."
"I like having more space, don't you?" I ask him as I stand up to wedge the clay and he fills a little plastic bowl with water.
"You know, I do. It's quieter and there are less distractions. Hmm, I wonder if there's a radio somewhere in here. I prefer to work with music, how about you?"
"I'm the same way, but if there isn't one it's okay." I respond and I take the clay off of the dirty mat to round it into a ball in my hands and I see him search on this shelf near the window.
"Aha! I found the little bugger. Now lets see what kind of stations you have. They better be good." Paul speaks to the box he finds and I grin and look away from him.
I cut another piece of clay, bring it back to the mat at the square table Paul and I share to wedge while he fiddles with the knob that just runs through static. He finally finds a station that seems to play rock and roll, which we both are pleased to discover.
"So, what are you going to make? I'm sure that whatever it is it'll be grand." Paul questions as I take a seat at the wheel after filling the ice cream bucket half way with warm water. I set one of the clay balls aside as I still handle the other.
"I'm not sure because I haven't done pottery for a bit, so I might be rusty," I allude to the time that I've been here and not home. "But whenever I try to make something it most always turns into a bowl, so that's probably what I'll end up making."
He nods his head with a small smile as he undoes the buttons on the cuffs of his shirt and he rolls them up to his elbows. I look away from his round face that I'm no longer having such a tough time believing that is really in front of me, and one that I can touch. It seems like I have just about everything here. I have art, plenty of music, some good happiness, Paul and the Beatles. In 2012 they were all I ever needed to be reasonably content. I'm plenty content in this moment as the voices of The Beach Boys escape the speakers to fill every corner of the room and I smile to myself at how right things feel, finally.