Sweetest Little Show - Paul McCartney Fanfiction

Chapter 13 - Only Nineteen

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I knew it wouldn't be long until Paul would have to go on tour again, to which he did. So far, it was probably one of the hardest things I've had to do that involved him. This man just came into my life, gave me this indescribable happiness, and then had to go on tour. Terrible.

The goodbyes was the hardest bit, which is why we tried to get past it as quickly as possibly. Of course, no matter how many time Paul reassured me he'd be back before I knew it, I still hated it. You can't blame me. It was just getting to the good part, and he would leave. And then when he would come back, we'd have to build it again after so long. I knew how it worked.

Goodbyes went something like this.

"Paul, why do you have to go now?" I asked rhetorically, hugging him tightly.

"We both know if I had I choice, I'd stay, but this is for The Beatles. It's for my career. Without it, heck, I may have never met you. Just a bit of time, and then we can be together as much as we like," Paul said, holding me.

"It was just starting to get good," I said. "The timing's the worst."

"We have to learn to live with it. I'll see you in August, yeah?" Paul said, kissing my forehead.

"You mean in forever," I replied. "I'll miss you."

Paul sighed. "I'll miss you too."

A bittersweet thing. There was an excitement for when I'd see him again, and I would imagine it in my head how wonderful it'd be. All these scenarios would pop up, and they'd be the most beautiful reunions ever. It was like sow thing out of a movie, but even better to me.

But with bittersweet comes the bitter part.

No matter how hard I tried, there were other scenarios in my head. Terrible, frightening scenarios that would mess me up and get me sweating and shaking. With me, there was always what ifs. Everything had something I was worried about, and I couldn't stop thinking about them once they were thought up.

Paul was famous. He was a rockstar. Someone who the girls adored and loved. He definitely didn't seem like the one who would go for just one girl either. You could just imagine him with all these girls around him, being swooned by his flirtatious behaviour. It was sad because I didn't expect him to stay loyal on tour either.

Maybe that was a reason I was so hesitant at the start. There was an attraction when we first me. I thought about how his eyes shined and how his lips curved into a sweet smile. His cheeks that were slightly chubby, which I found adorable. That dark hair I wanted to play with. It was all fascinating to me.

Either way, I still knew I'd have to give him the biggest greeting when he came home. I knew I'd have to push all those thoughts away and take a moment to enjoy life with him. There was always the what if he had me in mind and didn't dare touch another. Maybe what ifs could be positive, but I just never saw that side before.

It was a Sunday when I was waiting for Paul to come home. It wouldn't be too long until it'd be a Monday, and I only realised that when I looked at the clock. Once the realisation of how long I had been waiting hit me, so did a wave of exhaustion and tiredness.

I was lying down on the couch, trying to keep my eyes from shutting themselves. If I had a pound for every time my eyes would shut and I'd nearly fall asleep, I'd be rich like Elvis.

When I checked the clock again after accidentally dozing off, it told me that the Monday had come, and it was no longer Sunday. By then, it had been Monday for an hour and thirty minutes. I thought that surely he wouldn't come home this late, and he would have just went to a hotel.