AN: Hi, everybody! Sorry it's been so long, life has been so crazy for me ugh. I hope life is treating all of you well, and that you're all doing great! I'm sorry I took so long to update, I'm gonna try to update sooner next time, but I don't know. I'd love to hear some feedback from you guys. I hope you like it! :)

I slam my door behind me and stomp over to my bed where I dig out my journal from beneath the mattress of my bed as tears flood my eyes and threaten to break free from my sad pair. I dig around for a pencil in the drawer of my bedside table and I flip open to a new page to title it. I soon hear booming steps coming up the stairs and I wipe the tears away fast and then the door swings open and my tall mother enters in a rage.

"What are you writing about in your diary, huh? Are you ranting about how a horrible mother I am and how I made you mad again?"

"Mom, please just go away. I don't want to talk to you right now." I reply and I look down to the empty page that has black lines and black flowers in the corners.

"That's what you always say, Courtney, but-."

"Leave! I never asked for you to be a damn drunk and drug addict whose ruined my life. I'm done, okay? You've got what you wanted out of me, are you happy now?" I retort and I see her face fall but I know that it means nothing and she leaves my room to look over her shoulder at me before leaving and I shut the door after she leaves.

I wipe my wet cheeks with the cuff of my frayed sweater sleeve and I dash to my closet where I throw open the door to find my blue denim backpack. I stand up to pull out the drawers of my dresser and I shove the few-

"Hey, what're you thinking so hard about?" Paul's charming voice brings me back to reality as I had a small flashback from months ago when I had runaway, and it wasn't the first time I had done it.

"Uh, nothing, nothing. It doesn't matter." I assure him with a smile I fake and he smiles back and tucks a wet lock of my hair behind my ear.

"Alright. So, what would you like to do while I'm here until I have to leave for work?"

"I don't care." I mumble under my breath as we look at each other and I see his brows fall at my answer and he looks almost hurt.

"It wasn't just nothing that you were thinking about, wasn't it? I can tell that something isn't right, Court, and that what you aren't telling me must have somethin' to do with it." he remarks with the suspicion coating his words and I look down to the gray sheets that are the color of the sky when it's about to rain and I draw little designs that you can't see until he takes my hand in his so I'll look up at him.

"I don't want to talk about it, Paul."

"I know, but you need to 'cause I can tell that something is poking at you. I'm not blind, you know, I can see things that are goin' on." he responds as his troubled eyes look into mine while I feel his hand grasping mine loosely.

"I never said that you were, I..." I look away to our joined hands and how my pale hand riddled with brown freckles contrasts to his also pale hand with his black hair covering a little past his wrist.

"Court, you know that you can tell me whatever you want and that I'll keep it to myself if you don't want anybody else knowing."

"I was thinking about my mom."

"Do ya miss her?" he asks oddly and I shake my head as it appears hard to meet his eyes, but that difficulty begins to fade with every second that passes because how can you not feel safe looking into those soft eyes? I don't think you can.

"No, I don't. I just thought of her and this one time we got into a fight and I left. That's all, nothing more to it than that."

"Okay," he pauses to brush his thumb over my cheek that I hope doesn't seem or feel dry from the shower I just took. "And if you wanna talk anymore about her or you know, anything else you can-."

"I can talk to you, I know."

"I'm just trying to help, Courtney." he states in a hurt tone that I didn't mean to cause and I sigh and open my mouth to speak.

"I didn't mean to say it that way, Paul. Please don't think I did."

"What do you want me to think then? I keep trying to offer you help so you'll be happy, but then you just push it away. Don't you know it doesn't do any good to push people away?" he retorts and then the realization of what he just comes onto his face and I turn over to slide out of the bed and I get up to walk to the door, but then I stop to look at Paul who is on his back with his hands covering his face.

"I just wanted to come home to goof around with you and to have a few laughs, and now I've messed it up." his moving lips speak and I sigh and look down to the wet bracelets that sit on my wrist and I think of the tender moment when he gave them to me.

"We both messed it up, Paul, not only you."

"It feels like that sometimes though." he mumbles as his furry hands still cover his eyes and I stagger forward to return to my spot beside him and I lift his hands from his eyes.

"We mess up, but it's what we do because we're humans. People fight too and we argue, but it's how things are. It's okay, as long as we don't let those things get to us." I tell him as I look into his eyes that don't seem to be showing any certain feeling or emotion, but more like a few of them.

I caress his cheek with my hand and lean forward to kiss him on his lips that return the peck to me a second later and then I feel his hands rise to my back and he moves to be on top of me to place me on the bottom, the opposite of where the both of us just were. I tangle my fingers in his hair as one of his hands cups my flushed cheek while the other is elsewhere as my thoughts are consumed by the rush of his sensuous mouth moving with my own as I can hear my heartbeat in my ears more profound than it was the second previous. I get the feeling that he wanted to go possibly a little further after his tongue was poking at my lips, which I didn't know what to think of, but then he pulls away and I'm left breathless as he looks toward the bedroom door where I now hear footsteps. His hand moves from my cheek to the bed while my hands stay on his warm neck and the door opens and I see John standing there grinning.

"Ah, so this is what you meant by coming back to the house for your break, huh?" he remarks cheekily as Paul is twisted to look at him and his response is spat back a second later.

"Oh, shut up, John. Now leave my room, will ya?" he comments, but I didn't sense any strong anger in his voice those seconds after John closed the door with a grin.

"Ah, now where were we, Court?" Paul comments as he looks back to me with his pink cheeks and I push him back when he moves in for another round that I must admit I definitely wouldn't of minded, but I move the cuff from his wrist to look at his watch.

"Shouldn't you be going to work?"

"Oh yeah, I should. Shit." he grumbles as he lifts his knee from my side to get off of the bed and he fixes his hair as he stands on the rug.

I sit up with an intake of a breath and I comb my hair back as I feel only a little flushed and then he looks to me with a smirk, "We'll have to continue this later."

"In your dreams, naughty boy." I remark and I see a light flash in his eyes as he runs a hand through his nearly always perfect hair while he smiles.

"I should be back earlier than din, love. You'll be alright by yourself, yeah?" he gets the point when I nod as I have my arms wrapped around my knees. "Good, and there's something on the kitchen table for you. I thought it was about time I got you a kind of housewarming gift for you being here, and I hope you put it to use while I'm gone. I'll be wondering what you come up with. Bye." he concludes with a look like he's know something I don't, which he appears to with this gift, and he winks at me before leaving out his bedroom door.

"Bye, hot lips." I call out cheekily after getting the thought and a faint echo of his light chuckle meets my ears.

"I'll see you later, sweet cheeks!" he calls back and I fall into a fit of laughter from his words that ended in a giggle of his. What would I do without him?

I smile to myself and leave for downstairs a few minutes after his footfall left my ears and I travel into the kitchen where I find just what he was speaking about. A smile appears on my not quite awake lips and I stop in front of the light colored table to see a pile of things wrapped with a bow around them, like a present. I pull out the chair to sit and I drag it over to undo the red bow that I set aside as I spread it all out to find the pad of thick, artist paper that says can be used for painting, pen and drawing too. My large, flattered smile doesn't fade as my hands pick up the plastic paints that I take the top off to see the two columns of new paints and I set them down to pick up the brush that was set next to the paints. I run the soft bristles over the palm of my hand and then I notice the pack of drawing pencils and a black ink pen and I shake my head. He is just far too nice, with all of this.

I stand up to walk barefoot to the radio set on the kitchen counter and I twist the knob to bring it to life and I find a station playing current populars before I sit back at the table with this great gift in front of me. I admit that I've missed my drawing materials and all of that while I've been here. I had a few things in my backpack, but things have been so wild here that I've never gotten the opportune chance to pull them out. I grab the box of pencils that I open and I notice a white slip of paper flutter down from one of the boxes of something and I pick it up.

I saw the drawing you did the other night on that pad of yellow paper you borrowed while we all sat around the fireplace chatting while us lads had our guitars and you seemed bored, but you weren't for long. When I saw you with that pad I could tell you weren't anymore and I was baffled to see the fabulous scene you drew as we cleaned up before going to sleep. It was crazy how you captured the scene of me laughing, John making a goofy face like he seems to be caught doing often, George transfixed by his guitar and Ringo caught in the conversation. I don't know how you do it, Court, but I'd love to see more of your work and I can tell that making art makes you happy. Don't you feel bad about me getting you these 'cause I want you to have them and to use them to make some creative things. Maybe if you get the chance I'd love it if you made me something. I can't wait to see what you come up with, darling.

xxxxxx

I set it down with a happy sigh and I push the bowl away that has all of these little things in it to the other side and I grab the expensive looking pad and I flip the brown cover page back to expose the first blank page that is just waiting for me to put paint on it or to draw something. A photograph from the little bowl catches my eyes and I pick it up to find some shot from a photo shoot of theirs that must of been recent and I stand it up against the bowl to be in my full view. I find the lightest pencil of the green bunch of four that I sharpen over in the doorway of the kitchen before returning to the table to put the pencil to paper and my ideas to it as well.

AN: Oh my gosh, who saw Paul and Ringo on The Grammys last night?! Wasn't it amazing?! Still having a hard time believing it happened :)