✔ CHURCH BOYS ⇢ MCHARRISON/LENNSTARR

TWO

Pauls POV

Before I can help him up, he curls up in a ball and whimpers. I gaze at him in confusion. I don't know what to do.

"Hey, it's okay. It's alright." I coo. He looks up, his eyes glassy as tears begin to form. But, he pushes them back. He has the saddest, most empty eyes I have ever seen. The moment I saw them I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. He shivers and shakes and just stares up at me.

"Do you need help getting up?" I ask, softly. His lips remain in a straight line. His expression is unreadable. His eyes look fearful and his lips look blank. His cheeks are an adorable shade of pink and his body is trembling. After a moment of hesitation, he shakily nods. I take his hand and gently pull him to his feet. He fiddles with something in his pocket and then pulls a large packet of paper out of his pocket. He holds it awfully close to his face and says in a shaky, nervous voice.

"H-Hello. My name name is G-George H-Harrison. H-How are you?"

"I'm fine. You're dressed awfully fancy."

George begins to flip through the papers and then settles on one.

"I try to dress my very best each and every day. I am...sorry if that b-bothers you."

"Oh, no no no, it doesn't. Don't worry a bit." I say, softly, careful not to upset him.

He smiles at me, his frightened expression softens. I forgot I will still holding his hand. He looked down, blushed and jerked it away, so hard he almost fell down.

"I'm sorry!" He exclaims, a tad too loud.

"Oh, it's fine. My name is Paul by the way, nice to meet you George."

He shakes my hand and then jerks his hand back again. He begins to flip through the pages in his hand and begins to hyperventilate. He falls backwards and holds his head. I kneel next to him and hold him.

"Are you alright?" I ask.

He doesn't respond, he curls up in a ball like before. He rocks himself back and forth.

"Ssh, please, calm down. It's going to be alright. Just calm down and explain what happened and maybe I can help you." I whisper, trying to sound calm.

He stops trembling and I can barely hear him say,

"Nothing makes sense now, no one has ever told me that they've been happy to meet me before. Can you just try and tell me what to say?"

"Alright. When someone says it's nice to meet you, you normally say thank you."

He looks up, with tear stained cheeks. He must have really panicked,

"Well, thank you."

"You're welcome, George."

"I'm very sorry for freaking out. I just wanted to make a good first impression and I-" He burst into tears again.

I hold him tighter,

"Ssh, it's okay. No need to say sorry. Please don't cry. There's no reason to cry."

"Okay." He sniffles.

"Now, are you here for the church choir?"

"Y-Yes."

He looked completely lost, like a child who can't find their parents at an amusement park.

"So am I."

"That's n-nice." He shakily responds.

"Now, why don't you just get up and sit by the piano. We can wait for the others."

"How many others are there?" He asks, his eyes striked with fear once more.

"Only two and the instructor! Only two! Don't worry, please..."

"Okay. I'm not worrying."

"That's wonderful, George."

"No one has ever been so nice to me before, Paul." He smiles at me, as I lift him to his feet and walk him to the back of the room.

"And why is that? You seem perfectly fine."

"Well, I just have very s-severe anxiety a-and people always u-use that against me and I- Never mind."

"That's terrible, George. I would never do that to you. You're a human being and you deserve to be treated like one. No one should manipulate your fears and turn them against you. That's just terrible."

He looks at me, as if he was looking at me for the first time. And he just stares, just gazing at my face. I clear my throat and he looks away.

"I'm sorry." He mutters, "You're just being so nice and I was trying to see if you were fake or going to punch me or whatever."

"I wouldn't do that." I pull him close and he stiffens. But then, his body melts into my embrace. It felt like I had been at sea for 6 years and I had just returned to him. That was the kind of hug we were sharing. This was a boy who had his fears used against him, this was a boy who was almost too afraid to speak. This was a boy that needed my love and care. That day, the moment i saw that terrified look in his eyes, i vowed that I would never let anything bad happen to him again. He looked so lost and so alone. I never wanted to see that look on someone's face ever again. I would protect him and...maybe he could protect me. I mean, alcoholic fathers or not, I need help. Maybe he would be the one to provide that help. I would protect him and he would return the favor. And there, standing in his embrace I decided, George Harrison, I will fight for you. And maybe....just maybe you could fight for me.