If I Fell│John Lennon/Beatles FanFiction

Chapter 3 - 25.Feb.1960

Chapter 3

A/N: Please be aware that there is a violent scene during the second half of this chapter. 

February 25, 1960

My hands trembled as I took a seat at the bus station. I laced my fingers together and placed my quivering hands in my lap. My eyes surveyed the dark streets around me, only having a single street lamp above me to help me see through the shadowy night. Thick clouds hid the moon, and any light it tried to provide.

With each attempt at a calming breath, puffs of condensation formed in the frigid air. The brisk night helped snap me back into reality. I pulled in another long breath, trying to clear my mind of the rage and the alcohol. It wasn't a good idea to try to make it home alone at night without my wits about me. I knew that better than anyone.

A body thumped down beside me on the bench. I wrapped my arms around myself out of pure instinct and began to stand, ready to run.

A gentle hand touched my back. "It's only me."

I turned round to see Paul's kind eyes. His other hand was pushed into the pocket of his jacket, trying to keep warm.

I opened my mouth to say something, anything...preferably an apology. But instead, I just nodded and sat next to him. Thankfully I'd gotten my emotions under control. The tears that had once been threatening to flow down my cheeks had retreated back to where they belonged.

I stared at the pavement. "John send you?"

Paul moved closer to me, nudging his shoulder against mine. "He thought he'd better give you some time to cool off."

"Probably a good idea considering I nearly bit his 'ead off in there." I bit my bottom lip. I was going to have a lot of explaining to do the next time I saw John. "But Paul, you can go back. Keep 'aving fun. I'm fine."

Paul's lips fell into a frown. "You keep saying you're fine, but it's not true." He peeked into my eyes with a knowing look. "I'm not going back."

"Y'don't have to ride the bus all the way back to me place because John told you to."

"I'm not. John didn't tell me to do anything," he said with a shrug. "I volunteered."

A grateful smile appeared on my face as I dropped my head onto his shoulder, pushing my arm against his, trying to feel his warmth. He knew why I didn't like to be alone after dark; it certainly wasn't a secret. But it was usually John who made sure I got home safely.

"Ta, Paul." I paused before continuing, my voice now low. "Especially for what you did in there, pulling me away from that git before I did somethin' proper daft."

He shrugged and then pulled me closer, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. I was still shaking from the absurdity of it all, and I was sure he could feel my trembles.

"You don't need to thank me, Liv." He maneuvered until he could reach his cigarettes. "Want one?"

"Better not," I said. "The cold air is helpin', but I'm still a bit bevied."

He lit the cig and placed it in his mouth. "What'd the knobhead from the dance floor do anyway?"

My eyes slipped closed, the weight of the day crushing me. And it was only certainly going to get worse once I got home. "What's so hard about askin' permission before touching?"

His grip on my shoulder tightened, as if he were trying to protect me from the arsehole men who'd ruined my day. At that moment, I knew I'd been right not to tell John.