Find My Way (A Paul McCartney Fanfiction)

(6)

After we'd picked out a couple of nice button-ups for Paul, we headed to the checkout line. Whilst we waited, I saw a magazine that had The Beatles walking across Abbey Road plastered on its cover, which alarmed me, to say the least. I kept a watchful eye on Paul to make sure he didn't notice it, and I was more than happy when it was our turn to checkout.

As I threw the clothes upon the counter, a very strange thing then occurred.

Out of nowhere, Paul leaned into me. So much so, that I nearly stumbled over from the shock of having his entire weight pressed against me. It was like all energy had been zapped from his body, and I was the only thing holding him upright.

"Paul?" I said worriedly, disregarding the strange look the cashier was giving us. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he muttered, his voice shaky. "Just got a little dizzy."

My mind racing for explanations, I hit upon what I thought was the most logical reason for his lightheadedness. "Are you hungry?"

"I don't think so," he replied softly as he unknowingly looked into the direction of The Beatles magazine I'd seen.

"Well, maybe you just don't know you are," I said hurriedly, trying my best to get us out of the store before he saw the blasted magazine. I thrust some money into the cashier's hands (all while she mumbled something or another about common courtesy), and then grabbed the bag of clothes.

At this point I was sweating, so I was much relieved when we walked outside into the cool air. Paul, who had seemed rather ill in the checkout line, was suddenly his energetic self once again. It was like his dizzy spell had never happened at all.

"Feeling better so soon?" I inquired as I watched him wave vigorously at a bluebird (again, just like a four-year-old).

"Yes, thankfully. I don't know what came over me back there, to be honest. Was rather odd, though, don't you think?" he answered with an edge of worry in his tone.

"Yes, very odd," I agreed, my mind searching for the reason behind it. Could it be that Paul was simply hungry or tired? Or could it be that something else had caused his spell? Something like the something that had brought him to the future to begin with...

"Alright?" he asked me in his naturally kind way, seeing that I was deep in thought.

"Yes, yes. I'm just confused about everything."

"You're telling me," he laughed as we got into my Volkswagen, which I'd parked relatively far away from the other cars because I was always terribly afraid of parking next to anyone.

Once in the car, I told Paul he could take off his mask and sunglasses since my windows were tinted and no one could see him. He thanked me for my gesture, and immediately ripped the miserable thing off, and then the glasses. I noticed that his cheeks were tinted pink from the heat of the mask, and that his eyes seemed even droopier than they had earlier, which sent my heart fluttering. What it was about him that made me feel such a way, I didn't know, but it was nonetheless a feeling I couldn't hide.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked me with an impish grin, effectively jarring me out of my stupor.

"I'm not," I instantly replied, a blush creeping onto my neck as I backed out of the parking spot.

"Molly, I'm not daft, you know," he said mischievously.

"I'm not saying anything to that because I haven't a clue what it's supposed to mean," I snapped back, but with a faint smile so that he knew I wasn't serious.

He nodded with squinted, suspicious eyes, before he reached forward to mess with the radio again, to which I slapped his hand away and reminded him what had happened last time he'd touched it.