Break Me One More Time [McLennon]

in which paul likes john too much

It was an hour before John woke up on his own and then he left the room, thinking Paul was asleep. Paul wanted to ask him to stay, but he couldn't bring himself to it. Not when Linda was dead, and not when John was in love with him.

No! Paul thought, you don't know that for sure. You don't know that at all. He can't be in love with you! It's John....

Paul laid there for hours and hours, and he just kept thinking, I couldn't save her. I lost her again. I couldn't save her...

It wasn't till around noon that John came in to check on him. "Hey, how're you feeling?"

Paul shrugged. He didn't feel dizzy or sick anymore, but he felt numb all over and he didn't think he'd be able to get out of bed that day.

"You should eat something," John said and Paul protested with a shake of his head and a groan. "Come on, Paulie, just some dry toast, yeah?"

"No," Paul murmured and closed his eyes.

"Paul,"

"No," Paul gritted out.

"How about some tea, then?" John suggested.

"Just go away!" Paul yelled angrily and he broke down into gross, choking sobs again. He buried his face in his blanket and he was vaguely aware of John retreating from the room.

When Paul calmed down and stopped crying, he immediately felt bad about yelling at John. It was actually quite sweet that John cared about him so much, but at the same time it was so strange that John was being so open about he much he cared for Paul.

A while later, Paul heard voices out in the hallway. "Maybe he'll talk to you," John said.

"He's just sick, John," came a familiar voice. "I'm sure he'll be back to normal in a few days and he'll be your best mate again. Besides, it isn't like you've never yelled at one another before. What's got you so sensitive, anyhow?"

"Nothing, just worried about him is all," John sighed. "Go on in. I'll be in the sitting room if you need me."

The door opened and someone walked in. "Hey, Paul," he said, closing the door behind himself.

Paul opened his eyes slowly. "Hello, George,"

"I heard you and John had a bit of a quarrel," George said.

Paul shrugged. "I feel bad about it, I was just in a really horrible mood earlier... I'll apologize. I just...I don't know."

"Hey, it's okay," George said. "We all get ill once in a while."

"Yeah," Paul sighed. "Ill."

"What's wrong?" George asked.

"Nothing," Paul lied. "Just tired."

"Alright, well, I'll let you rest," George said. "But John will be in soon. Just remember to tell him that you're sorry and maybe you could eat a little bit to make him harder, okay?"

"We'll see about eating but yeah, I'll say I'm sorry when he comes in," Paul said

"Good," George nodded then stood and left the room. He went to the sitting room where John was sitting on his chair and strumming his guitar. "Working on a song?"

John nodded. "I've been working on it for a while but it's just not right," he said.

"Alright, let's hear it," George said.

John laughed. "No," he shook his head. "Not until it's finished."

"Whatever," George said. He looked up at the clock. "Four o' clock. Want some help convincing Paul to eat?"

"No," John said. "I've got this." He made some dry toast and tea and carried it into the bedroom on a plate. George followed closely John's heels. "Hey, Paulie," John said.

Paul opened his eyes very slowly. "Hi," he said groggily.

"I brought you some food," John said and sat down on the edge of Paul's mattress.

Paul groaned, and then he saw George give him a pointed look out of the corner of his eye. "Okay, I'll eat," he agreed reluctantly and allowed John to help him sit up.

John handed Paul the dry toast and Paul took it. He began nibbling on the edges. "John, I'm sorry," Paul sighed. "I shouldn't have snapped at you earlier."

John shook his head. "It's okay, Paulie." He said. "You know what I think?"

"What?"

"I think you like me too much,"

Paul laughed. "Is that so?"

"Yeah," John said. "Yeah, you like me too much. And I like you."

"That could make a pretty good song," George cut in.

Paul smiled. You've got no idea...