𝐏𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐄𝐒 -beatles imagines, preferences

Never (Paul)

Summary- Paul breaks up with his girl, only to regret it 5 years later when she is happily engaged to someone new.
(I'm just realizing how hot Paul's beard was)
Era- Any that you would like!
Time- 2000
——Your POV-

I was busy washing the dishes, to even hear Paul walk through the door. I was playing Brandy (Your a fine girl), whistling along. I always had felt singing gets chores done quicker, therefore I always did it. There was a kingdom of dishes in the sink, probably because of Paul always having friends over. It never annoyed me, just I wish he would actually clean for once.

"Oh hi," He acknowledges me coldly.

"Well hello to you too," I furrow my brows.

"So erm how are you?" He rolls his eyes, taking a seat on the couch.

I've had enough of his attitude, so I whip the towel against the dish washer, "What the fuck is your problem?!" I shout at him.

His expression is blank, completely no emotion to be seen. He stands up, and walks closer to me.

"It's you," He hisses, and not the sweet kind.

"How is- is it me?" I squeak, terrified of him now, terrified of the words that were edging closer.

"This," He points at himself and I, "Was never suppose to happen,"

His words hit me like a cold knife. Right in the heart. I always thought he loved me, cared for me, wanted me.

"What-what do you mean Paul..." I begin, letting the rest of the words stay hidden in my stomach.

"You were just suppose ta' be a quick shag, nothing more, you were a fucking random bird !" He shouts in my face.

"Then why stick with me?" I stand straight.

"I gave you signs, I always did how could you not tell? I would leave a mess for you, hurt you. How did you deal with it?" He spat  in my face.

I take my hand and wipe off his saliva, then grabbing the towel to wipe my hand.

"I made room for it," I simply respond, not letting him see how disgusted I am by him.

"Well then you should stop making room for it," He rolls his eyes, not moving away from me, or moving closer.

"But I care about you Paul," I whisper timidly, not daring to look away from his stone eyes.

"Well I don't care for ye . No one does," He states.

"I thought you did... I thought we had each-other Paul," I feel my eyes begin to soak, but I blink repeatedly to not cry.

"No, I never had you Y/n, you're all alone." He stares down at me.

"I can't believe you Paul,"

I don't see the doe-eyes I once fell in love with. Nor do I see the charming smile, or the cute hair. No. He is all serious and rude now.

"I can't believe you thought this was real," He spat at me once again, before walking out the door for a smoke.

I wipe away a stray tear. I slumped my way up the stairs to HIS bedroom. I rummaged through the drawers. I pick out all my jeans, then skirts, shorts. I move onto our closet, oh I'm sorry HIS closet. I yank out all my dresses, longer skirts and tops.

I pull a large suitcase out from under the bed, trying to hold back the storm of tears.

I gently place everything accordingly. Folding or rolling whatever needed to be. I walk over to my under garments drawer. My eyes travel to a red crotch less thong that Paul used to say was his favorite.

I know now that's a lie.

I grab it, and grab a set of lingerie I also bought for him. I throw them onto the bed, leaving them for him. Stuffing some more of my underwear and bras, until I'm satisfied, I become side tracked.

How did I never realize Paul didn't love me?

I wipe away a tear that found itself on my burning cheeks. I stand myself up, latch the suitcase in my hand. Before I know it, I'm out the front door.

———————-5 years later—-

I was happily engaged now.

Too who you may ask?

Oh just a boy named George Harrison, no biggie.

He treated me like a goddess, flowered me with kisses, dosed me in hugs and warm embraces.

Made me realize what love truly is.

He treated me much better than that bastard Paul ever did.

Today was a special day, as George was hosting a little party at our place. I was excited to see Ringo and John, just not Paul. I had to see him some times of course, but I never dared speak to him.

————-5 Years Ago Paul's POV—-

I slammed the door behind me, darting up the stairs to get to my bedroom. I was greeted by a note, a set of lingerie and a thong.

My eyes began to swell up, as she knew this thong was my favorite.

The note read,

Dear Paul,

I hope you rot in hell. I hate you more than you could possibly know. You wouldn't have hurt me by telling me you never wanted a relationship. Instead you decided to be nice to me, LIE TO ME! That's evil. Your evil.

P.S. I don't love you
And P.S.S keep the lingerie and thong you whore

With disgust
-Y/n

My hands began to shake. I was evil. I was a fucking bastard. I fucking hurt her in ways I should've known.

I held the thong in my hand, clutching it tightly.

What the actual fuck have I done?

—————-Time skip to the party, Paul's POV—-

I was sitting at a table, drink in my hand.

I was watching her.

Her hands flying through the air, as George wooed her on the floor. He was good to her, unlike me.

I had to talk to her.

I made my way over to her, Ringo now pointing it out to John. The two began gossiping like school girls but I could care less.

"Can I speak with you?"

She looks over at me, scrunching her face with disgust.

"If this is the apology I deserve fine," she rolls her eyes at me. I walk her over to a quiet room, not wanting George to hear me.

"So what the hell do you want?" She snarls.

"I want you back, I miss us. Please let me be good to you," I beg, ready to get down on my knees.

"Like you said Paul, there was never an us," She walks away after speaking to em sternly.

I'm scared y'all, my friend knows about my wattpad account now thanks to my fan page on insta 😬😬