elvis | beatles

33

" out on the wily, windy moors "

Clementine
I watched as Paul brought a blindingly white mug to his lips.

".. and you see thats why I moved, sorry love." he said sounding quite chipper as he brought a napkin to his mouth.

I stared at him, not responding.

He quickly understood what my silence asked for.

John.

"Clem," leaning in closer towards me. "Clementine."
Clearing his throat, glancing at the wall to the left of me. "I asked you here to tell you something," he looked up at me for a reaction but my face remained unchanged.

"J-John." Paul suddenly became quiet, looking down at the sticky, brown, coffee, tea stained table. He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face, throwing himself back in his seat. His hands still rubbed at his eyes as he told me, "He's gone."

Something in his eyes told me John hadn't left the house, or the city, or the nation, but elsewhere entirely.

All that reached my ears was the sound of the red and square shaped clock tik-tok-ing so loudly the it felt as though the clock were wedged close next to my ear drum. "Clem?" I heard him say, his hands now on the sticky, brown, coffee, tea stained table, his palms showed, as if he were offering me something. Yes he looked quite vulnerable.

His voice was drowned out like he had a glass around his mouth as he spoke to me. "Clementine?" He reached for my hands, the same hands I hadn't realized I'd been staring at.

Slowly, I stood. "Oh, Paul." I brought my hands to my neck, clasped around each other as I bit my lip. My eyes drifted to that red, squared clock. "What brought him to me? What drew him so near? Whoever strung the stars did so thoughtlessly when they had John and I in mind. Without him I'm lost, aimless! I couldn't ever bring myself to- to let myself be led. To be happy– at the very least content! But with him, his hammer head would break me down and our stubbornness would fool me into thinking I could do better. I can't! In the back of my mind I knew I had him. I knew he'd come to bother me even after I'd push him away. I found such a warm comfort in that– in him, his soft brown eyes that saw me completely. That would never break away from my gaze, just hold me there frozen. I want him to hold me." Tears I hadn't premised rolled evenly down my cheeks as I spoke. I stood up, finally meeting Pauls bewildered gaze. "Im tired of this, oh Paul!"

"No tears, love." He quickly stood after my, brought his thumb to my cheek and wiped away the tears. Grabbing my arm, he brought me out of the small café, and down the street, where I floated much like a cloud.