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

~ Chapter Twelve ~

All of us entered this very small sweaty basement of the building which was The Cavern club. I thought that I would pass out from the lack of oxygen after only five minutes of being there as the air around us was warm and moist, smelling of fresh sweat and cheap booze. So far, The Cavern club hadn't met my expectations, that I had set rather high after the car ride in which the boys were telling me how amazing The Cavern club was. So far, I only saw it as a place where people got carried out to an ambulance car from lack of oxygen and bruising.

The place was packed with people, mostly teens or adults in their early twenties. It wasn't surprise that we were hardly able to walk down the stairs to the actual club because there were people just hanging out on the steps.

As expected, it was really loud inside. On the small stage, at the back of the room, there was a band playing. They weren't brilliant but they were decent, the audience seemed to be enjoying so, I guess, that was a good sign for the band.

"They're pretty good, eh?" Paul, who's arm was still draped around my shoulders, leaned down so that his voice would be heard over the noisy crowd and loud music.

"They're good." I agreed with a nod, shrinking into Paul's side as I was getting slightly claustrophobic from the small room that was way too crowded for it's size. In order, Paul dropped his arm from my shoulder and wrapped it around my waist, holding me tightly against him. I guessed that he noticed my wariness and offered his comfort.

"They are a skiffle group." Paul was whispering in my ear, his voice was soothing and soft, making me relax and forget about the crowded room or the fact that I might pass out from the lack of oxygen. "The Beatles actually started off from being a skiffle band. We were called The Quarrymen, John was the founder and the one who got it all going. Though, when we finally got to perform here, we were The Beatles, the real thing." I smiled due to the enthusiasm in Paul's voice when it came to the subject of their band.

We both listened to the band for a few minutes, Paul making comments about their material and some technical stuff, that I didn't really understand. It was beyond me to know where everyone else was scattered to but I had a rough idea that we might find them at the bar, which, I noticed, was at the back of the large room.

"Do you want a drink?" Paul, once again, leaned down so that his breath was tickling the back of my neck, making me shiver. I nodded for that was all I could as I didn't fancy the idea of shouting across the noisy crowd.

As we were heading towards the bar I noticed how the feel of Paul's arm around my waist felt right, like it was a completely natural thing for him to hold me so closely. Instantly, I remembered the interview and the declaration of us just being friends. My mind was looking back at the time that I had spent together with Paul. The long embrace that we had shared just a few hours ago, the way my heart sped up when I was close to him, the conversation about our parents and, finally, the kiss at my apartment. Moments like this made me feel confused about my feelings. Did I think of him as just a friend? The answer was no, there was something more than just a friendship between us. I wasn't sure of whether he thought and felt the same way but I knew that there was something more. It was then that I realised that I liked Paul McCartney.

I was too consumed by my thoughts that I hadn't noticed that Paul was waving his hand in front of my face or that we had arrived at the bar where everyone else were casually sitting around and sipping their drinks.

"Hmm?" I blinked and tried to focus on what Paul was saying.

"She's back! Welcome back to Earth, Anna." he smiled amusingly and my cheeks were flaming from the fact that I was caught on zoning out from the world around me. I noticed that his arm was no longer wrapped around my waist, making me feel like something was missing and I was aching to get closer to him and feel his warmth.