High on you

Hold Me Tight

Pauls eyes were resistant to open as he rolled around his bed, pressing his face against the pillows and letting out an aggravated moan. Slowly, his hand reached out from under the covers and picked up his ringing cellphone, accidentally tugging the charger with it. He sat up and pressed it against his ear. "Hello?" His voice was hoarse and quiet as not to wake his father.

"Paul, s'John. Can I have yer credit card information?" John's voice was hoarse as well but he didn't seem to be as bothered about it as Paul was.

Paul pulled back from his phone in shock, eyes squinting at the bright light. "John it's....four in the bloody morning!"

"Yeah, yeah....so can I or?"

Recently John had been abusing his privileges of calling Paul. In the week that he'd had his number, John had usually called him nearing the nights. They'd had a few heavy talks, showing as much emotion as John was comfortable with. But very recently, John was calling for the daftest reasons.

"No John. You can't, why on earth would you think I'd say yes?" Paul scowled. John laughed on the other end of the line.

"Was hoping you'd be a little dazed since s'four in the morning." John shrugged to himself.

"What do you need it for anyway?" Paul asked.

"I want to download 'You may be right' by Billy Joel for $1.29 but Mimi's took her information off me phone." John said very seriously. Paul snorted on the other end.

"Goodnight John." Paul decided to put the conversation to an end. John tried to hide his displeasure.

"Night Paul..."

John hung up the phone, tapping his phone a few more times as he aimlessly stared across at his wall. He'd made quite a few excuses to call Paul but by far this was his cheapest shot. He scowled to himself. He trudged back to his bed and tried to get himself to sleep again before he'd have to be up.
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Paul woke up with his eyes burning and more tired then he'd ever been in the morning. He sat up and immediately stretched his hand out to grab his phone.

He found it at a measly 12% "shit!" He'd have no time to charge it seeing as he'd slept in more then usual. He shot up, dressed and passed his brother and father on his way out. They watched him go with confusing glances. And Paul sped his walking pace so he'd have just enough time to get to class without being late or too early.

It didn't work, he'd barely made it to class at all. And he was pissed.

He sent John death glares all throughout class, hoping he'd get the message. John just happened to never be looking at him. But at the end of class, Paul was able to catch John.

"John, you can't keep calling me for daft things. I was nearly late." Paul's eyes were glaring. John had almost missed what he'd said, in favor of observing the way Paul's face was turning an angered dusty pink.

"Jeez, god forbid Paul McCartney is late to class. Y'know that's more devastating then me mums death." He spat angrily. Paul clamped his mouth shut and looked at John's face, searching it for a sign of his pain.

"Uh...I'm sorry John...." Paul wasn't sure what to say. John saw that and toned down a bit.

"Y'know Paul, just because you won't acknowledge it doesn't mean my feelings for you went away. I make excuses to talk to ya and I'll continue to do it." John ended the statement with a slight smirk before shoving off down the hall. Paul looked back at him and rolled his eyes.
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Drool pooled at the corner of George's mouth, he burrowed his head further into his pillow. Glowing warm light poured over him in a calming morning. He was softly waking up until his phones alarm blared in loud guitar riffs from Eric Clapton. He huffed, arms pushing his weak body to sit up. Even his bleary eyes were able to recognize that he was way past late. Unusually, he was already just so unhappy that he didn't run to get out of the home. Sluggishly, he stood, cracked his neck, stretched and dressed. He descended his steps, said his goodbyes and calmly walked to school. He ended up entering ten minutes into his class.