Anna (Go To Him) ~The Beatles fan fiction~

~ Chapter Eleven ~

"What?" he questioned, dropping his hands to his side as I turned to look at him. The only word that could fit to describe the expression on his face was confusion. I must have caught him off guard with my sudden question about his private life, seemingly as the last time we actually spoke openly about ourselves, to each other, was back at my flat. How long has it been? A week now? I can't recall when I started living with the boys, dropping my old life behind so spontaneously.

"Who is Jane?" I repeated more slowly, wondering if he was actually listening to me. He had this far away look on his face as if the word 'Jane' made his mind wander to a completely new to world. I would assume that this world was of memories of him and Jane. The thought alone was making my tongue ache to ask what happened but I knew that it's better to approach the subject one step at a time.

God, I should know how hard it is to speak about past relationships. After all, look at me, I still haven't wrapped my head around the fact that I am no longer in a relationship and the sight if James alone made my heart go into frenzy, proof being that little encounter, shall I say, at the interview.

"Jane? Oh, Jane. Umm, she is- I mean, was my girlfriend." He dripped his gaze towards the ground a sad expression with an angry scowl appearing on his face. Oh, how I wanted to ask what happened. Instead of voicing the question, that was on the tip of my tongue, I laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder and smiled.

The urge to comfort him, once again, surfacing within my chest. It was so strong that it made me feel thorn of whether I should do it or not. We are friends. Very good friends, I would hope. Therefore, in the spur of the moment I removed my hand from his shoulder and hugged him.

I never realised how tall Paul was compared to me and I had to stand on my tip toes just to be able to properly wrap my arms around his neck. It was a tight embrace and I hoped that it showed him how much I cared for him, that I will be there for him, for better and for worse. I felt his body going tense and then relaxed as he slowly brought his arms around my waist, his face now buried in my thick, black hair.

I saw it as a friendly hug, a hug that best friends would share, but why was my heart beating so wildly then? Why did I feel like I was floating in the air when Paul exhaled and I felt the breeze of his breath on the nape of my neck? The last time I felt like this was when James kissed me on my prom night those many years ago, we were only best friends then. So, what does that mean?

"I'm here for you, Paul, like you have been here for me. If you want to talk about it, just say, I'll be here listening and caring, helping you to get better. Okay?" my voice was muffled by the fabric of his shirt as I buried my face in his chest, enjoying the warmth of his embrace. If it was even possible, Paul pulled me closer and I could feel his heavy, breathing against my chest, and the beating of his heart, that was keeping a steady rhythm, unlike my own.

"Thank you" he breathed out in my hair, making my chest tighten from the breathy sound of his voice. "Where have you been all my life?" he whispered, so quietly, that I might have imagined it but I knew that he had said it. Whether it was him saying it to me or to himself, I brushed it off, knowing that he was just happy to have me as his friend, he appreciated the fact that I was such a good friend and clearly showed that I cared for him and his well being.

We held onto each other for a while longer, loosing ourselves in the moment, realising that we needed each other. However, our little peaceful moment was rudely interrupted by the three mop-topped boys who were all ready and set to go, their coats loosely hung on their bodies.

Immediately, Paul and I untangled ourselves from each other's embrace and I hugged my body, a nervous habit of mine. George was the one who coughed, his face was set into an oddly annoyed expression, very uncharacteristic-like for George for I have always seen him being cheerful and energetic. His eyes looked bored and his arms were crossed across his chest as he looked at Paul with raised eyebrows. Whereas John was the complete opposite. He was grinning widely, like a madman, his eyes darting between Paul and I. One could only be left wondering what was going on in that man's mind. Then there was Ringo who looked so oblivious to what was going on, he had a smile on his face as a lit cigarette was dangling from his lips.