AN: well hey there. so i feel like the biggest douche ever with what's happened to my stuff on here and how i left stories unfinished and let you guys down, and i'm SO sorry! i understand if nobody comes back to read this and hopefully what's left of this story i can post if FF lets me. but with the issues i had what like a year ago with a user threatening to report me and get all of my stories taken down, and just FF being SO difficult for me with posting i've forgotten about FF and i've stuck to wattpad. i'm super sorry with how things have went, but here i am again haha. i'm going to try to post the last few chapters of this story so it's wrapped up for you guys since i know there's a big love for this story on here, which i could never thank you enough for. i'm crossing my fingers right now that FF doesn't fuck this text up and that it posts ok, sigh. i sincerely hope that all of you have been really well and life has been awesome for you, i love you guys. here's to hoping this works and i can wrap up this story for you guys :-) and like i said i am over on wattpad with some different stories under the same name with an icon of niall from one direction haha! some of you have already found me over there and thanks for your kind messages! i am posting on there regularly, they're very um different stories from what i posted here but if you want to keep up with my writing check me out there. and can i just say i think my writing has gotten a litlte better haha and im really proud and excited for the direction its going in lmao c:
"I reckon I'll leave the happy couple to it then, but we're still on for that girls date remember!" Izzy declares as our little group stands a few feet away from the yellow cast of the streetlamp and I nod my head.
"You're on."
"Don't worry, I won't let her forget." Paul adds on and I look up at him with a smile before she waves and crosses the road to her car and I watch her unlock the driver's side door and drive away to join the crazy line of traffic bending around the corner.
"You are such a little liar." he comments as we walk down the sidewalk with our hands to ourselves and I stop to scoff at him and he uses his hand to motion for me to come on.
"I am not!"
"Oh yes you are with you saying that you don't like the Beatles. Have things changed, love?" he remarks and stops to face me while his pockets hold his hands and I try to hide my grin.
"'Cause I know that you like one of them a lot, it isn't hard to tell."
I roll my eyes with a laugh and he pecks my cheek before resuming his walking and I follow with my blushing cheeks, "You're the liar!" I shoot back as darkness engulfs the street and we come upon his parked car.
"Oh am I now? Please tell me how I apparently am a liar."
"You said up there that you don't pluck your eyebrows." I answer as we open the doors to get into his cold car and I begin to shiver and he notices and turns on the heating.
"That's 'cause I don't. What, are you implying that I do?" I nod at his question and he smirks while starting the car as the vents blast heat that warms my cold bones.
"Well I don't and you know as well as I do that. Wait, are you implying that maybe you pluck 'em for me while I sleep?"
"No," I respond with a laugh that shakes my thin body as the strong headlights cast their glow onto the black road ahead of us. "Because you sleep with your eyes open so you'd see me, remember?"
"Yeah, now I do."
I shake my head with a laugh as I turn my head to see what's going on outside the window as cars clog this London street and Paul takes a shortcut behind a laundry mat and as I see the faint light of the street lamps I fiddle with my cold fingers that never seem to be able to warm up, but when they're intertwined with Paul's it's never a worry.
"You must admit it was a good laugh pretending we had only met back there." he adds and I nod my head with a small smile that he doesn't see.
"Why did you keep looking at me while you played?" I turn my body and ask.
"I'm sure you already know the answer to that one. I did say how you're awfully pretty, so..." his words escape him or maybe he means to trail off like that and he smiles when we catch gazes and I sit back into the seat as he drives and then we stop behind a whole line of cars that must of been at that show.
"You're funny, do you know that?"
"I do try awfully hard." he responds and I giggle and turn back to the window and soon rain hits the window to blur the scene of outside and I look at the scene that passes by as Paul passes the light and a few other cars.
"I never did say thank you for the art supplies. I love them and it was so nice of you."
"You're welcome, darling. I'm glad you like them." he remarks and I look to him and we exchange small smiles as my mind draws a blank on a response and then his hand comes over to touch mine and I see that the touching takes up that absence of words to mean much more.
His hand holds mine as his right hand grips the steering wheel and he makes a turn to go down a road I've seen a few times now and we pass the old diner that brings thoughts into my mind, "I never did call to quit, you know, and doing that no show yesterday looks pretty bad." I remark softly to him.
"I'm sure that they got the memo though, and so what if it does? You have every right to forget about that place and to never have to go there again after what happened. I still don't get why Pearl didn't fire that lousy bastard. I thought she was better than that."
"Yeah, I thought so too." I agree with him and then I look to the windshield where the wipers cast the rain away for only a few moments until it blurs the view on the glass again. It seems that you're never right about the way people are, and that eventually you get proved differently, which is down right unfortunate.
"I did see a Wanted sign at that Italian place, so maybe you could find a spot there."
"Maybe." I comment and he slows down to pull over to the curb in front of their flat as the rain makes a evident noise hitting against the walls of the car and his hand leaves mine.
"Alright, what's the matter?"
"Nothing is." I object after turning to look at his face that I can hardly see in the ever present darkness.
"That's not how it's looking to me, love."
I huff and look down to my hands that I fold and then look away from, "Really, nothing is because everything is great." I attempt to reassure him, but how can I convince him when my words don't even convince myself?
"You've never been much of a liar, or a good one at that." he remarks and I stay silent as the pitter pattering of rain makes the only noise.
"I'm not lying."
"Oh yes you are, I'm not an idiot, you know." he protests and I sigh and look to the window where the outside is blurred by the rain and my watery eyes that I wish wouldn't grow wet right now.
"I never said that you are or aren't, Paul."
"Then why are we arguing now, huh?" he inquires and I shake my head because I don't have an answer. I hate how things have taken less two seconds to change from good to bad more than one time today.
"You tell me."
"I'm not the one who's angry and not speaking." he retorts and I turn to look at him.
"Paul, please."
"What am I supposed to say or do, Court? You turn sad in an instant and I have no bloody idea why or how, so how am I supposed to know what you're thinking so I can make it all better? I know I just can't kiss the injury to make it go away this time. I don't wanna just go inside to escape this 'cause there's nothing to do in the flat with the lads being out and we both know there isn't any damn food in the house. I'm tired of going to restaurants too 'cause I feel like it's all we do." he comments and I bite the inside of my lip as I'm frustrated and I feel bad for making him feel bad. I just don't know what to do, but when do I ever?
"Lets go to Izzy's."
"You think that's the best thing to do when we're having a fight?" he questions and I shrug.
"Can we please?"
"Fine, if you say so. Just tell me where to to." he grumbles and he puts the car back into drive and I tell him to turn left and then to drive a ways and make another turn and we come upon the familiar door of her place. I turn to look at Paul who rests his head on his hand that's propped up on the door while he stares out the window.
I open the door and step out onto the empty street as I blink back the tears and walk up to her door that I knock on and she immediately answers, still in her hugging dress, "Hi, doll. What are you doing here? Wait, is everything alright?"
"Yeah, I guess so, but I was wondering if Paul and I could uh come in just to hang out."
"Oh, of course you lot can! I just put on a kettle and was going to make some rice and chicken gravy for din." she answers and I force a smile and walk back down the steps to tap on Paul's window and he soon steps out of the car with a crabby look playing on his features. I grab his hand as he walks toward the stairs, but he looks back to me.
"I'm sorry, please don't be crabby because of me."
"It's just that I try to help you not be upset anymore and you won't tell me what it is that's going on, and it's frustrating!" he comments as he comes closer and he frowns at me as I hold one of his hands. "Nobody likes seeing somebody they care about to be unhappy."
"You care about me that much?"
"Of course, I do. How have you not noticed?" he asks with a small smirk brimming his lips.
"I don't know, I guess I'm kind of slow."
"Maybe you are, but that's alright 'cause I'm patient or I like to say I am anyways." he remarks and I laugh as he dips in for a kiss on the lips that I savor before it ends and he pulls me up the stairs to the closed door.
"Hey again." Izzy greets Paul as we kick off our shoes to land on the mat with Izzy's others and I tug on his hand to bring him over to the kitchen table where we sit down.
"Hello to you too." he comments and he picks up today's paper sitting in the middle, folded and I see him peer down at the cover story. I move my chair to look over his shoulder and he tsks tsks.
"Ah, it's horrible what's goin' on back in the states in the south."
"Isn't it? They just want their rights, like any man has but they're being denied the most basic 'cause of the color of their skin. It's horrible how those Southern whites think they're better." Izzy comments from her perch at the oven and my eyes run over the grainy picture of police officers dragging African American teenagers away while police dogs rip at their clothes, down in Alabama the caption cites.
"It is, I don't think it's right at all." I remark and Paul meets my eyes for a moment with a smile grazing his lips before he glances back down to the paragraph he reads. I suddenly think of how in my Sophomore History class we thoroughly covered the Civil Rights Movement with videos, articles we read aloud and homework of course.
"It says here that the cops there are hosing them with water from fire hoses and that those things are mighty strong, but they won't back down so they just throw them in jail," he pauses and I see Izzy shake her head at his words. "The people aren't beginning to back down either with the sit ins in these restaurants continuing and numbers growing even higher." he concludes and then flips the page only to flip back.
"It's terrible what they're doing to them people. They just want equality and to get the same opportunities and treatment that the whites have, but it's all changing too slow for them." Izzy adds on and I remember seeing an African American boy at the show earlier dancing and how he seemed to be left alone. I wonder if and how different it is here.
"This Martin Luther guy is the head of it all too and they all seem to love him, even though yeah it says things aren't moving fast enough for their liking." Paul comments and I wish I could say something, but I feel as if I'd choke on my words as I see Paul's disappointed look. I don't blame him.
I wish that I could tell him that their efforts aren't for nothing and that they do achieve what they aimed for, but again I can't be messing things up or freeing information like that.
"Do you want any help?" I ask Iz and she looks behind to see me and nods.
"If you want to butter a few rolls and set the table that'd be nice. Thanks, sweetie."
"Yeah, you're welcome." I respond as I leave the cushioned chair to find a bag of dinner rolls and I remember the butter being in a dish in the cupboard. I take a glance to Paul who bites his nails as he reads and I shake my head, that is such a bad habit.