Photography (A Beatles Fanfiction)

10 / rain

Paul's home wasn't too far from George's; we could have walked there if it weren't for the weather. A few rumbles of thunder boomed as we stepped inside.

It was a little dark, but I could see there seemed to be boxes everywhere--some empty in a pile and others labeled and tightly sealed. I tried to maneuver around them, not wanting to be rude and ask why there was so many things all over the place.

"Oh, uh, sorry about all this junk," Paul said, taking my hand. "I just moved here a few weeks ago. Still trying to get used to it."

"It's fine," I replied, following him into his living room. Paul lived alone? Maybe something happened between him and Jane, and he decided to move out. I still sort of felt like I was in a dream, since some of these things that were happening weren't very historically accurate. I was fully knowledgeable that not everything I read on the internet was real, and that there was no way I could know everything unless I was actually there. But some things still had me confused.

"Alright, it's a little less messy here," Paul commented, shrugging his jacket off. 

"Paul, can I ask you a question?" I muttered, soon feeling his hands grazing my shoulders. He took my jacket and hung it on the coat rack for me.

"What is it, sweetheart?" he replied after a few seconds, his voice sounding a little higher pitched than usual.  I had to admit, I loved the way he called me "sweetheart". I looked in his direction, and he had his shoulder leaning against the doorway. His brown puppy-dog eyes were fixed on me; twinkling from the small amount of light that was left from the window. He looked so uncomfortably beautiful, and a small burst of butterflies rushed through my stomach. I wish I could have stopped them, because I knew the answer to what I was about to ask would most likely be "yes".

"Well, I was just wondering," I began, nervously scratching the bridge of my nose. "Do you have a girlfriend? Does the name 'Jane Asher' ring a bell to you?"

"Oh," Paul mumbled, his face seeming to fall a little. "Well uh yeah, Jane and I just broke up. That's why I moved here."

"I'm sorry, that must be rough," I said softly, looking down at the floor. I felt bad that he was probably enduring a lot of pain from it, but I felt a sense of relief as well. I was still pretty reluctant to fall forward with Paul's advances, but I didn't feel as insecure knowing that I wasn't just going to be "the other girl".

"Yeah," Paul said flatly, a flash of lightning illuminating the room for a split second. He flicked the lights on and sat down on a flowery chair across the room. "Do you have a boyfriend, Bri?"

I rose my eyebrows and shook my head. "Goodness, no," I replied with a little cackle. 

"Why, is that funny?" He leaned in forward, smiling.

"Well, uh, I never really had a boyfriend before," I told him, shrugging. 

Truth is, it wasn't funny at all. I was tired of always being the friend and never the girl. I was sick of being told sweet words by a guy and then seeing them kiss another girl the day after. I was never good enough to be someone's one and only. I wasn't good enough for somebody to be proud to call me theirs. 

"Really?" Paul asked, as if I had said I'd never eaten ice cream before. I didn't know why people became so shocked when I told them that. Why would someone want to be with a plain, brown-eyed messy haired girl who got nervous around people and regretted being shy once she was all alone again? 

Paul patted the armrest on the chair. "Come sit."

I walked over and placed myself next to him, sitting down on the cushioned armrest. There was more thunder, and the sound of rain pouring quickly filled my ears. Paul reached his arm out and snaked it around my waist. His thumb grazed against my bare skin, making me shiver a little. Luckily, he didn't seem to notice.