âmes pétillantes ~ classic rock imagines

• Paul Mccartney (II) •

Here's a little festive treat to warm up that Christmas spirit! I hope everyone who celebrates it has a very merry Christmas, and here's to a brave New Year! Enjoy this festive slice of content 😊

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"It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, everywhere you go. There's a tree in the Grand Hotel, and one in the park as well, the sturdy kind that doesn't mind the snow." As one of your favourite festive songs began to draw to an end, so finally did the last of your Christmas wrapping. Every December, you promised yourself you'd get ahead on your Christmas preparation, yet every December you found yourself rushing around like a headless turkey trying to get everything done in time. It was Christmas Eve and you'd only just attached the last bloody bow.

With a long, relieving stretch, you began to sing along to the seasonal classic in celebration as you gathered up all your wrapping supplies. "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, soon the bells will start. And the thing that'll make them ring is the carol that you sing -" You were so preoccupied with wrestling the rolls of wrapping paper back into their box and the steady sound flowing from the gramophone that you didn't even hear the front door open and close downstairs. Nor the footsteps on the stairs that followed it.

What you did hear though, only a few seconds later, was that instantly recognisable melodic voice harmonising easily with you. "Right within your heart."

You turned around to see Paul standing in the frame of the door, a dusting of snow sprinkled across his hair and thick coat, his cheeks bright, bags hanging from both arms and a gigantic grin on his face. To finish the song, he let the bags fall unceremoniously to the floor, flung out his arms like a prima donna finishing her encore and put on the deepest voice he could muster. He unfortunately drowned out the record but, since it was Christmas, you let that slide.

"Sure, it's Christmas once more."

As he finished the final note, he dashed at you suddenly, wrapping his outstretched arms around your stomach to pull you close and gently poke his thin fingers into your vulnerable sides.

"Paul!" you screamed joyously, squirming in his weak grip as he continued his affectionate attack. "Paul, no. Stop it!" Fruitlessly, you tried slapping his hands away, but they just came back stronger.

Until, finally, he relented, leaving you rosy cheeked and out of breath, still clutched against him like a teddy bear. "Sorry, love. All the Christmas excitement's got me giddy," he murmured into your ear with a smile, his lips moving instantly to meet the soft skin of your neck.

Willingly, you tilted your head, smirking at the feel of his hands moving slowly along your body as your fingers reached up to tangle in his hair. "Giddy, huh?" you mumbled with a laugh.

Suddenly, the phone rang out, sounding ten times louder cutting through your cosy little moment. Paul sighed heavily in your ear, his face falling dejectedly onto your shoulder. "Tomorrow, sweetheart," you turned and whispered to him, pecking him on the cheek and unravelling yourself from him to pad your way over to the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi (Y/N)! Happy Christmas! We were just wondering when you'd be round today? We know your plans for tomorrow, but we've pulled out blankets just in case and -"

You pulled the phone away from your ear to look at Paul and roll your eyes. 'Your mum?' he mouthed with a sympathetic look, pausing in his attempt to move the bags he had dropped in the doorway. You nodded with a wrinkled nose. Your poor Mother always meant well, but you were eager to move out when you were 18 for a reason.

Your family always celebrated the festive season to the max, and you loved everything about Christmas. The time spent with your family and friends, all the beautiful decorations lining the streets, the excitement of snow, opening presents in front of a burning fire, catching up on your favourite festive TV and music.