𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘽𝙀𝘼𝙏𝙇𝙀𝙎 𝙄𝙈𝘼𝙂𝙄𝙉𝙀𝙎

two of us | paul ☆

era: 1970 (post beatles)
a/u
name: willa

the gentle breeze met my face. my face toward the bright moon up above, i felt paul's hand creep up my arm. i looked at him with a smile. he noticed i had goosebumps. he smiled back and tried to give me his sweater. "no, you'll be cold," i refused.

"okay, then, we'll share it." he wrapped the huge sweater around both of us.

he had his left arm snaked around me, my head comfortably leant against the side of his chest. i could hear every breath he took and the vibrations in his chest when he talked.

it felt funny on the side of my cheek, but, i ignored it and listened to him talk about nothing at a fast pace. he wasn't drunk, but, he might as well have been. his words came out at just the exact rate as a drunk would.

we were lying somewhere in a meadow. paul made me close my eyes until we got there, and, he forced me out of the hippie van he bought for my birthday.

he packed strawberries and whipped cream—my favourite treat— and his favourites. fruit snacks, juice pouches and some other snacks.

it was for our anniversary. for three whole years, i tolerated paul mccartney.

october sixth, nineteen sixty-seven, paul and i went on our first date. he and i met at a pit-stop somewhere in colorado.

he was a long-distance truck driver, i was running away from home for no particular reason, going as far as my car would take me before it broke down and hopefully get a ride home before my parents noticed.

not that they would.

my parents never paid attention to anything my brother or i did. we were twins, and couldn't be more different than the other.

he was kind, sincere, smart, wise. promising as a human being.

me, on the other hand, i was disorganized, bluntly honest, and, i made a lot of bad decisions.

not including road-tripping and meeting paul.

he saw me struggling with pushing my car into a parking spot where he was safe and sound in his huge truck in the lot. it was a rather chilly night, and i at least bothered to bring a sweater.

he hopped out of his truck and rushed over to help push me. we eventually got the car into the spot next to his, but, not without grunts and heavy breathing.

"what's a pretty bird like you doing on the road at nearly four am?" i blushed at his jeering british accent.

i told him all about what happened, and, to my dismay, he laughed!

paul could always find humour in dumb little things. whether it be me hitting my elbow on the side of a counter or getting trapped in the sheets and nearly falling in the morning.

even now, when i was wrapped in his arms, paul began hysterically laughing for no reason.

"what?" i craned my neck up to look at him as he covered his face with his other hand, his smile peeking through at me. "what?" i pressed.

he squeezed my petite figure with his slender arm as he laughed harder. "i don't know!" he barked.

i squinted my eyes and shook my head at him. he was strange at times. as i waited for him to calm down, i admired the fancy necklace he gave me. it was pure gold and it had a single diamond in the middle of a heart on it.