Sweetest Little Show - Paul McCartney Fanfiction

Chapter 15 - Reverse

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The day after the date had been going fairly well. I couldn't complain about much, but of course something had to happen. It was a house with Paul McCartney, and anything can happen really. Knowing me, I'd probably say or do something to freak him out a bit because of my thoughts and issues. If it wasn't him, it was me.

"Where are you going?" I asked, seeing Paul buttoning up his coat as he stood by the door.

His head quickly turned as he heard my voice, and I stood there with my hands on my hips as I waited for his answer. I noticed the empty wineglass on the bench earlier, but I thought nothing of it at first. Now, with him going out, I knew exactly what he was doing.

"Somewhere fun," Paul said, shrugging. He fixed his collar as I sighed, catching his attention again. Upon seeing my slight frown of disapproval, he tilted his head and pouted. "What's wrong, love?"

I slowly walked towards him, fixing Paul's buttons for him. "How long will you be out for?"

"I don't know," Paul said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I promise I'll be home though, don't worry."

"And what're you doing tonight?" I asked, letting my frightened side get the best of me.

"Just stuff I guess," Paul said. He grabbed my hand, and kissed my knuckles. He slowly let my hands down as I let out another disappointed sigh, trying to keep my thoughts positive. I kept telling myself it would be just one night, and I wouldn't have to worry.

"Going out to a club, aren't you?" I asked, sighing.

His eyes widened with realisation. "Darling, no, no! I'm not gonna be going out to see girls or anything!"

I nodded, keeping silent for a moment in thought. "Will the boys be there?"

"Don't worry, Jackie. Ringo'll keep me from doing anything I'll regret," Paul said. "And yes, I'll try to not drink too much. I'll keep you in mind."

"Well then, have fun Paul," I said, kissing his cheek. He opened the door, looking out at the dark sky, before looking back at me. Paul grabbed my hand, and leaned in to quickly peck my lips. Without saying another word, he left.

I watched him as he walked off, leaning against the doorframe. Even though I had put my trust in him, I was scared of what he could do to break it. He was Paul McCartney. Out there, he was the Beatle Paul. Cocky, flirty, and young and carefree. He wanted to have fun all the time, and do wild stuff. Girls caught his attention, so did booze. I just hoped he wouldn't end up in drugs or I wouldn't catch him with another bird.

There was a different Paul back home. He was sweet, loving, caring. The Paul I knew and loved made me feel happy, and managed to earn my trust. He kept his promises and was a good person all around. That Paul was the one I trusted, but tonight, I wasn't sure which one he would bring to the club.

As the time went by, I stopped to check the clock again. 2:42am. I would sleep, but I couldn't. He had me up all night walking back and forth the house, drinking water to calm my stress, and checking the clock every 5 seconds. I'd be at the window every 10 seconds looking out for a sign of him, and I'd pass the door every 15 seconds hoping it would open. And then for the next 20 seconds I'd panic because he wasn't home already, and I'd continue that for the next 30 minutes before having a 5 minute break. It was a very tiring process, I must say.

As I got up and checked the clock, I heard the front door creak open and the cool gust of wind slowly flow in the stuffy house. Quickly, I ran over to the front, seeing Paul with a goofy grin on his face. He shut the door with his body, leaning against it as he shut his eyes for a second. I went over to lock the door behind him, before grabbing his hand.