God, she felt sick. Saying goodbye to her boyfriend, Paul, at the door before he flitted off, Faria forced a tiny smile and gave his dark, luscious locks a playful ruffle. "You sure you'll be okay, love? I mean, I'd hate to go, but I've got practice and I thought you'd be dancing and-" "I'm fine, McCartney," Faria cut him off, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his cheekbone as her hand gently rubbed up and down his arm, pressing a sunshine smile to her face. "I'll give you a call, hey?" Nodding, Faria returned the kiss quickly placed upon her lips as she watched his coated figure prance down the street, guitar case in hand.
Heading back to her bedroom, Faria flopped face first onto her bed, letting out an exhausted sigh. God, PMSing got the best of her, surely. She felt like she was pregnant. Not that she knew what that felt like...not even close. Rubbing her face up and down, she let out a gentle groan as she curled into a ball as she stared at the picture of her friends and family back in America. She and her family had picked up and relocated this past year, when her father had gotten a job at a good hospital in the up and springing city of Liverpool. Of course, she wasn't crazy about it at the time being, but she'd snagged up a good round of mates and an absolutely wonderful boyfriend, so she didn't have any issues at the moment. Except... her cramps, and the god awful nausea consuming her soul. Boy, did she want to cry. Shuffling downstairs, she'd fixed herself up a cup of tea and flopped in front of the telly, proceeding to watch a bit of the news before fidgetily heading backstairs, where she then continued to pass out for.. well, god knows how long. A ringing of her telephone awaking her, Faria let out a yawn as she saw the sun still out, though it had lowered a bit in the sky. Picking up the phone, the mess of dark hair let out yet another yawn, murmuring into the speaker. "Helllllllo?" She assumed it was her mother- so no need to cover up or act professional or anything. "Faria, love! Are ya feelin' any better?" Her favorite Liverpudlian quipped into the phone, a smile emerging on her lips.
"Uh... the nausea and the cramps are still there, but I'll live," she replied, brushing her spine-length hair off her shoulders as she sat up in bed, kicking the blankets from her mattress to cool off as she heard dead silence into the phone. Little did she know, he'd just covered up the speaker and called out (yelled) at Mike to be out for a couple of hours. Pouting a bit, her lips parted to speak again when she heard his sweet accent drift once more through the receiver. "Uh, well, can ya be over in an hour? I'd love to see you again but I've got to finish up fixing a tune with John. Not quite perfect yet, y'know?" Perking up instantly, Faria gave an eager nod of her head- but wait, he couldn't even see it. You idiot. "I'll be there!" "Alright, great," Paul answered distractedly. "Well, I've got to get back to John. See ya then?" "See ya then," Faria murmured back tiredly before hanging up the phone, stretching her arms up as Paul, just a couple of blocks away, smirked to himself. Songwriting with John? As if. As Faria straightened herself out and got ready, Paul was busy. With Playboy magazine. Well, no, that was for another time. He was working on something else in this moment, surely. Rolling out of bed, Faria tugged off her school uniform and replaced it with one of the real mod-like, mini shift dresses that'd been stealing the scene with a pair of boots, brushing out her disheveled hair.
Then (painfully yet optimistically) skipping the few blocks down to Paul's family home, Faria knocked on the door, leaning against the doorframe as she rubbed over her stomach, her head tilting back to stare at the doorframe. "Just a minute, babe!" Paul called through the door. Yelling an 'alright!' back and scaring the neighbor's dog, Faria then shot up as he opened the door, embracing her into his arms. "No one's home, so I thought I ought to make you feel better," he murmured delicately, pressing a tender kiss to the top of her head as he held her at arm's length to smile at her- Paul, Paul, Paul, always the optimist. "Aw, c'mon, I'll be fi-," Faria started, only to be cut off with Paul's lips. Breaking into a grin as she rolled her dark eyes, she was then scooped up into his arms, bridal-style. "Just let me do something for you for once, hey? You're the one always here for me when 'm stressed about an unfinished song," he muttered, planting another kiss to her earlobe as he carefully carried her up the stairs.
The view that awaited them in his room was unbelievable. Candles lined the floors as a pink carnation lay on the bed. Oh, god. Surely this couldn't mean... "Paul, this is not the time to lose my virginity... Otherwise I will throw up on you," Faria remarked in confusion, looking up at the boy with two dark, knit together brows. Breaking into a laugh, Paul slipped his arms around the girl from behind, nuzzling his nose into her neck. "Ah, love, tha's for tomorrow. Today's for making ya feel better," he assured her, walking her over to the bed and gently laying her down before slipping down behind her, pulling the blankets over the pair. His arms wrapping securely and protectively around her waist, Paul nuzzled his face into her neck before running a trail downwards, then back up as he peppered her jawline with kisses, his fingers moving to tenderly drift through her dark tresses as the other hand stayed draped over her waist, interlocking his fingers with her hand nearest to him.
"I heard the best treatment for monthlies is the Paul McCartney treatment," Paul murmured, eliciting a laugh from her as he followed in with a quiet round of chuckles soon after. Reaching to his nightstand behind him, he picked up a Cadbury bar, moving his hands to rip open the bar before breaking off a piece. "Tha', and chocolate." "Oh, what a relief. Didn't want to think my boyfriend was too arrogant," Faria shot back, quietly laughing as he dangled a piece of hazelnut delight in front of her lips, snagging it gently from his loose grasp with her teeth as she chewed it. "Mm, you really know how to treat a girl, hm?" Faria spun around in his arms as her brightened, brown eyes sparkled with delight and she leaned in to press a kiss to his lips, massaging the back of his neck as her arms slowly snaked their way up. "Eh, just you. I know about your sweet tooth," the boy cheekily remarked with a wink, causing a grin to dance on the pair's lips as he leaned in, pressing a kiss to her nose as he pulled her into his chest, rubbing her back up and down.
"I jus' want you feelin' better, y'know? It's surreal not seeing you so peppy and full of energy. I thought that's how Americans are supposed to be," he whispered, nuzzling his nose into her hair as they both chuckled once more- the pair practically couldn't stop laughing idiotically. "Oh, yeah, well of course. Every American on the planet is like that. Just like me, actually. They even look like me," she murmured matter-of-factly into his lips, sarcasm dripping from his voice. This brought the pair back into another round of laughter as Paul squeezed her frame gently, his lips moving all over to pepper her neck and face with kisses. And of course, Faria stayed through it all- she loved his kisses, dearly; to be honest, she couldn't quite get enough of them. They were so sweet and light, and pressed on her face with those oh-so-perfectly-pouted lips of his.
As he gently pulled away, his hazel eyes flicked up to meet her deep, brown ones, a gentle smile curving on his lips before he pressed a deep, long kiss to her lips. Lips running along one another's and tongues barely grazing, the pair stayed pressed chest to chest together until he slowly pulled away. Blinking her eyes open dreamily, Faria gently smiled as her fingers ran up to play with the ends of his hair, her nose nuzzling into his cheek. "I love you, y'know," he murmured quite seriously, his eyes studying her as she gave a slow nod back. That was the first time he'd said that, though she knew the same held true for herself. "I love you too, McCartney." A grin was seen on his lips as he pressed another one right on hers, then fluttering his lashes along his cheek.
"Feeling better?"
"Better already."
