Paul Mccartney Imagines

30

The streets of Liverpool buzzed with the familiar hum of life as you and Paul strolled through the city. His fingers were laced tightly with yours, but there was an unmistakable tension in the way he kept glancing at you and then back at the street ahead.

"You alright?" you asked softly, squeezing his hand.

Paul chuckled nervously, his thumb brushing over yours. "Yeah, love. Just... thinking."

You raised a brow. "About?"

He let out a long breath, stopped in his tracks, and turned to face you. The autumn wind tousled his hair as he looked at you, his brown eyes filled with affection and uncertainty.

"I've been thinking about you meeting my dad and Mike," he said, his voice quieter than usual. "I don't know why I'm so nervous, but... well, they've never really met anyone like you."

You tilted your head, smiling softly. "Like me? Is it because I'm American?"

Paul scratched the back of his head, his usual effortless charm flickering in and out. "Yeah, maybe a bit. Dad's pretty old-fashioned. He's used to people from around here, and I don't want him thinking—"

"That I'm some big-city American girl swooping in to steal his son?" you teased lightly, hoping to ease the tension.

Paul let out a small laugh, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Something like that. I want them to like you as much as I do."

You stepped closer to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "They'll love me. You worry too much."

Paul smiled, leaning into the warmth of your touch before letting out another deep breath. "I hope you're right."

Jim McCartney's house was small but cozy, the kind of place where every corner held memories. You could see the traces of Paul everywhere—family photos lining the mantel, an upright piano tucked into the corner of the living room. It was a home filled with warmth and history.

Jim greeted you with a firm handshake and a curious look in his eye, while Mike, Paul's brother, offered a cheeky grin. The tension in Paul's shoulders seemed to tighten as he waited for their reactions.

"So," Jim said, his voice a deep, comforting rumble, "you're the young lady Paul's been telling us all about."

You smiled, feeling the weight of his gaze as he studied you. "I suppose I am."

Mike piped up, nudging Paul with his elbow. "He hasn't stopped talking about her, Dad. You should've seen him pacing before you got here."

Paul shot his brother a warning glance, his face flushing slightly. "Cheers, Mike."

Jim let out a low chuckle, his eyes softening as he looked between you and Paul. "Well, we've always trusted Paul's judgment. If he thinks you're alright, then so do I."

You exhaled softly, relieved by the warmth in Jim's tone. Still tense beside you, Paul seemed to ease a little at his father's words. But then Jim's face grew more serious, and he turned his gaze to you.

"I'll admit, I was curious about you being American," Jim continued, his voice thoughtful. "But it's not about where someone comes from—it's about who they are. And if my son's brought you here, you must be something special."

You blushed at the compliment, and Paul finally released a breath he'd been holding. He looked at you, his eyes shining with quiet relief.

"She's more than special," Paul murmured, his voice low but filled with emotion.

Jim smiled, reaching out to pat Paul on the back. "Good lad. You've always had a good heart, Paul. I can see that she's the right one for you."

Still grinning mischievously, Mike leaned in and whispered loudly, "Told you Dad would love her."

The rest of the afternoon went by in a blur of stories and laughter, with Jim and Mike growing more comfortable with you. They shared tales of Paul's childhood, embarrassing him at every turn, but you could see how much they adored him.

It wasn't until later, when the sun began to dip below the horizon that Jim pulled Paul aside. You watched from the kitchen as Jim spoke softly to his son, his expression severe yet affectionate. Paul nodded, his face mixed with emotions you couldn't quite read.

When they returned, Paul's hand trembled slightly as he took yours. You shot him a curious look, but he only gave you a small, nervous smile.

Jim cleared his throat, his eyes twinkling with something more profound. "I wanted to give Paul something before you two left."

Paul glanced at you, his grip tightening around your hand. "Dad, are you sure?"

Jim nodded. "It's time."

From his pocket, Jim pulled out a small, worn velvet box. You can see its age in the frayed edges and faded color. He handed it to Paul, who looked down at it with a reverence you hadn't seen before.

"This was your mother's," Jim said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "It was her wedding ring, and I think it's only right that you have it now."

Paul's breath hitched as he opened the box, revealing a simple yet elegant gold band—his mother's wedding ring. You felt your heart swell in your chest as you realized the moment's gravity.

Jim looked at you then, his eyes kind and filled with approval. "I think it's about time you made things official, don't you?"

Paul's eyes were brimming with emotion as he turned to you, the ring trembling. His voice was soft but steady when he spoke. "I didn't plan for this to happen today, but... I can't think of a better moment."

Your heart pounded in your chest as Paul dropped to one knee, the ring held between his fingers. "Love," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "I've known from the moment I met you that you were it for me. You've made me a better man, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

Tears welled in your eyes as you looked down at him, the love and nervousness etched into his features. Without hesitation, you nodded, your voice shaky as you replied, "Yes. Yes, Paul, I will."

Paul slipped the ring onto your finger, and when he stood, you fell into his arms, your lips finding him in a kiss full of promise and love. Jim and Mike cheered in the background, their approval sealing the moment.

As you pulled away from Paul, you couldn't help but look down at the ring, feeling the weight of its history and the love it symbolized.

"You're perfect for him," Jim said softly, his voice filled with pride. "His mother would've loved you."

You smiled through your tears, feeling the warmth of Paul's family enveloping you. Paul kissed your temple, whispering against your skin, "I told you they'd love you."