✔ CHURCH BOYS ⇢ MCHARRISON/LENNSTARR

SIX

Hey, if you enjoy my stories check out my collab account where you can find an all new fic called "dear prudence". You can find it at StompOutTheBeetles (ironic because we luv the beatles and want to marry them).

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Pauls POV

I knew I recognized George from somewhere. Turns out he's in my first period english class. Or at least, I'm pretty sure. I stare at the back of his head, waiting for him to turn around. As if I was controlling him with my mind, he turned his head to the side. It was definitely him. I smiled. When class had ended, he remained at his desk, grabbing his books. I tap him on the shoulder and he tenses up,

"Who are you? What do you want?" He asks, with a shaky voice.

"It's me," I say, softly, "Paul."

He turns around and throws his arms around me.

"Oh thank god." He whispers to himself, "I didn't know you went to my school."

"Well, I do, and thank god for that."

I let go of him and step back, studying his features like it's the first and last time all at once. His black hair shiny, soft and wonderful. His eyes were bright and cheerful looking, that brought a wide smile to my face. A vein on his neck stood out when he smiled. And, now, he was grinning widely. And might I say, he has the most beautiful, radiant smile I have ever seen. He has such that kind of smile that makes you can't help but smile yourself.

We walk into the hallway and I walk George to his next class. A few people shove him or whisper in his ear to scare him. At one point he panics and grabs my hand,

"Oh, I'm sorry." He says, meekly. He tries to jerk his hand away but I hold on.

"It's alright." I whisper to him. His hand is awfully sweaty and hot. But, I don't mind. His hand shook less violently with each step we take. I can feel him relax and become at ease, something I'm sure rarely happens to George. The feeling of my fingers intertwined with his just felt...right. His hand felt small in mine, it fit perfectly. Maybe this is what's been missing. Just a gentle, loving touch of another. And I cherished it for as long as I could.

"Um, thank you. This is very reassuring Paul. I can't even begin to thank you. You really are one the nicest if not the nicest person I've met."

"Right back at you, George."

His eyes snap to mine right when I say his name and he stops walking. He stares at me for a few seconds and then continues. And, soon enough we're at his classroom. No one else is in the hallway so I pull him into my arms again out of everyone elses view. And, I can't help it. I kiss him on the cheek, ever so lightly so he doesn't feel it.

"Goodbye George, see you at practice." I hastily utter, my face heating up. I begin to walk away but then he says to me,

"Um, okay...goodbye..." his voice trailed off into silent sadness.

I stop in my tracks. His voice just sounded so lonesome. It was as if the look in his eyes had fled to his mouth. It just made me want to pull him close all day long until he felt alright, and to kiss him until my lips hurt. But alas, I had to go to class. There was no way that I was going back to George now, I'd get detention for at least a week and I was late as it was. I want to make George happy but not at the expense of myself. Well, yet.

For the rest of the school day, all I could think about was George. How right it felt to hold his hand and...and to kiss him, to kiss him was like heaven. Even if he didn't know, it was still felt with all the love in my being. It's strange to feel such a strong connection with someone and only know them for a short while. I've had a drunk dad and a bully younger brother and not once have I felt as close to them as I am with George. Why, I've never felt this connected to a person since my mother... I tear up at any mention of her sweet, beautiful name. The most pure and holy name there is. Her and George are the only two people I have ever felt actually cared about me. Just the way his eyes light up when I'm around, the way his look of fear melts into a smile. It's all so beautiful, and to know that I'm the cause? It just feels amazing. It's just another thing that makes life worth living, not that there are many.

Walking home from school, I thought long and hard about things. Why did I kiss him? I guess I just couldn't help it. But why did I have urges to do so in the first place? I probably just felt bad or something. No, that can't be it. I internally debated further but alas, that all amounted to nothing. No answers arose and I left myself in the dark. I arrive home and knock on the door, my father and brother don't trust me with the keys. My father stumbles to the door and fumbles about with the doorknob. I can tell it's him because of his drunk mumblings, curse words and insults galore. He was mumbling something about his quote, "good for nothing motherfucker" outside the door. He eventually gave up and my brother flung the door open, letting it hit me in the face as it swung. I fell backward and held my nose as it started to bleed. I looked up and there he was, Michael McCartney. He pushed my head back, letting it slam into the cement. Then, he kneeled down to my level and sneered,

"Welcome home, Paulie."

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Okay...

That was far more creepy than intended...