⇾ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 | 𝐏𝐚𝐮𝐥 𝐌𝐜𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐈

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙏𝙬𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙮-𝙊𝙣𝙚 ➪ 𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚

ꕥ July 9, 1966 ꕥ
10 weeks

Us both sleeping through the night was quite impressive, I had to say, considering that we'd fallen asleep the first time at four, woken up for about a half an hour in which we had some more food and I called Caroline to tell her I wouldn't be home that night, and fallen back asleep at eight.

In the morning, we woke up at 8:45. It was—admittedly—the earliest I'd woken up in weeks. I woke up with Paul's arms wrapped around me from behind. I laid there for a moment after my eyes fluttered open, taking in the feeling of his arms around me, but then he woke up and realized that his arms were around me and he moved away, seeming to be nervous about how I'd react. I sighed and rolled over to face him. "You really didn't have to move away," I told him.

He smiled meekly. "Why are you okay with this, but you still don't want to actually start dating?" he asked, looking slightly upset.

I gulped. "I guess I'm just scared of what might happen if we do."

Paul nodded, his eyes glancing downward before he looked back up and plastered a smile on his face. "Good morning," he said finally. "How'd you sleep?"

I smiled back. "Quite well. Your bed is very comfortable, I must say." I giggled.

"Is it?" he asked with a light laugh. "You feeling alright this morning?"

I frowned. "I feel very sick, if you can believe it."

He gave me a sympathetic look. "Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked. "Want some water or something?"

"Ooh, water sounds good," I told him gratefully. He smiled and got up out of the bed, rubbing his eyes tiredly as he left the room. I circled up in a ball, pulling the blankets right up to my chin. I was dressed comfortably in one of Paul's t-shirts. Honestly, I could get used to waking up like this.

"Here you go, love," I heard Paul say a moment later. I looked up to see him entering the room with two glasses of water, one presumably for himself. I sat up and reached my arms out.

"Thank you," I told him as I took a sip of the water.

"Do you have to work today?" he asked me as he slid back under the covers next to me, sipping on his own water.

I nodded with a grimace. "At one."

"Well, maybe the lads and I will stop by for a bite to eat," he teased. "And we will hope that we get waited on by our dear Juliette."

I rolled my eyes teasingly. "And why would you wanna do that?"

"Mainly to see your pretty face," he admitted with a cheeky grin.

"You're such a flirt," I told him with a laugh.

He chuckled and his eyes travelled down to my stomach. "I wrote a song about you," he admitted sheepishly. "While I was waiting for you to call me. I couldn't stop thinking about you, so I wrote a song. You wanna hear it?"

I grinned. "Yes, I do," I responded truthfully, sitting my glass of water aside.

He got up off the bed and went to find an acoustic guitar. I waited patiently for him to return.

He sat back in front of me and smiled. "Ready?" he asked. I bobbed my head up and down in approval. "Okay," he said before nervously tuning up the guitar and strumming a chord.

I listened to the lyrics in fascination. His voice was beautiful. Every note that he drug out was perfectly in key and each of the chords he played on the guitar was just as beautiful. The words themselves were what drew me in so strongly. It was beautiful.

Third Person POV

Paul was doing a fingerpicking pattern on the guitar as he sang the words that he meant more than anything he'd ever sang before. He'd successfully written a song that summed up how he was feeling, and he could tell by looking at Juliette's face that she loved it. He was still quite upset that she didn't want to properly date yet, but he figured it was alright if they took it a little slower. Now that there was a child involved, it was quite imperative that they had a strong relationship, whether that be as a couple or just as close friends.

To lead a better life, I need my love to be here
Here, making each day of the year
Changing my life with a wave of her hand
Nobody can deny that there's something there

There, running my hands through her hair
Both of us thinking how good it can be
Someone is speaking
But she doesn't know he's there

Paul looked down at his guitar to help guide his hands along the strings as the song shifted in its chord progression. There was a smile on his face that didn't go unnoticed by Juliette.

She smiled too when she noticed how absorbed he was in the music. It was so clear in his eyes that he cared so much about what he was doing. He cared so much about music.

The emotion in his voice told her that he meant what he was singing, and that made tears well up in her eyes.

I want her everywhere
And if she's beside me
I know I need never care
But to love her is to need her everywhere

Knowing that love is to share
Each one believing that love never dies
Watching their eyes
And hoping I'm always there

Paul remembered that as he was writing this, he was merely thinking about her. He was quite sad, really. He had felt like he'd completely blew it with her, and maybe if the pregnancy hadn't happened, he would have, but now, here he was, sitting on the bed, singing this song to the girl he had written it about.

He looked up at her to make sure that this was true. It seemed too good to be true, but it was. She was watching him intently as he picked at the strings, and he thought he noticed something else. Was she crying? Was that a good or a bad thing? He gulped and looked back down to finish the song.

I want her everywhere
And if she's beside me
I know I need never care
But to love her is to need her everywhere

Knowing that love is to share
Each one believing that love never dies
Watching their eyes
And hoping I'm always there

I will be there, and everywhere
Here, there and everywhere

Paul concluded the song and realized when he looked back up at Juliette that she was smiling despite the tears in her eyes. She was happy.

"Did you like it?" Paul asked her timidly.

"Like it?" Juliette asked incredulously. "It was the most beautiful song I've ever heard," she said, her voice struggling in the midst of her tears. "You really wrote it about me?"

Paul smiled and nodded meekly, his cheeks turning pink. "Yeah, I did."

They sat in silence for a moment, just staring at one another, taking each other in. Paul realized that Juliette was much closer to him than he had initially thought. His eyes flicked down to her lips for a moment, and then they were both leaning in closer.

Their lips were perhaps a half of an inch apart when there was a knock on the door.

They jumped back. Paul's face turned a deep shade of red and then got up, giving her an apologetic look. "Let me go see who that is," he told her sheepishly.

Juliette nodded. She suddenly felt extremely sick, so she got up out of the bed and went into the bathroom. She sat down on the floor in front of the toilet and thought about what had just happened.

What had just happened?