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𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒; angst, talk of whiskey 𝐄𝐑𝐀; 1965 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄; paul is such a cutie . -♡︎
⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒
my eyes were glued to the man i used to spend all the restless cool summer nights with. when we lived off of love, and were feasting on affection.
his eyes were still doe like, even if his face had thinned out, or his hair was now waving across his forehead, bringing out his mile long eyelashes that use to flutter across my cheeks every time our lips touched.
my mouth remembered as my mind did, the taste of his normal cigarette, and sweet cherries meshed together still lingered there, a keen memory.
my fingers curled as they hazily felt his hands interlock with them, his thumb brushing against my knuckles as he would reassure me life would be alright.
yet here he was, the same interview as i. yet so incredibly different from myself.
my eyes were glossed with the endless amounts of cocaine that controlled my days, and his were glistening with fame and happiness.
his suit was creased to perfection, tailored for a king. my dress was sewn by myself, made for a persona.
the man came, the interviewer that is. in a plain suit and tie, that only furthered his image of your basic man.
he asked us his questions, asked me what i was going to do when my fame ran out. i told him it wasn't going to. he continued with his idiotic inquiries, pursuing one of them where he wanted to know how tight my dress fit on me, and if my knickers were clasping against me skin.
i only shed a grin and told him i wasn't wearing any.
which was a lie.
"alright that concludes this interview, erm, nice talking with you lads," he nodded at them, but left me alone.
the stool was refreshing to slip off of, and i quickly made my way out the door to the back, eager to pull out a cigarette to dowse my thoughts away.
"well well well, i see ye got yer dream in life,"
i yanked my head behind me, seeing him clearer now.
"heh, yep," i nodded, returning to my smoking cigarette.
"ye don't look any different love,"
he walked beside me, stopping right next to me, his fingers grazed purposely against mine, and for a second i almost interlocked them, but i restrained myself.
"s'nice," i looked down at my basic mod shoes, the white and black style and the thick heel.
we both just stood there in silence, the breeze whispered chants in our ears that we were both too timid to take and use. so we just leaned against that brick wall, our cigarettes speaking a thousand words of silent reminisce for us.
"remember those days," he chuckled, hopelessly almost.
i grinned, the image of large hills and blooming daisy's projecting in my mind, "yes, i do,"
my head was a slide show, of all the seasons we spent together as children.
and in each slide, was a different picture. it went from warm suns and melting ice cream cones which spilled all over our outfits our parents picked up, to burbling waters and wilting flowers.
one by one my eyes gave me images of the petals falling down helplessly, floating across the sea that led to our past.
"we could go back that y'know, those nice times, nothing really changes y'know," he suggested, finally turning to face me.
i frowned, "paulie, everything changes and nothing ever goes back. we live different lives now, i have jack to keep me company, and you have jane,"
"but jacks just going to do ye harm love," he spoke softly, "jack is a beautiful curse that will only ever end yer life,"
i rolled my eyes softly, "paul, jack can't hurt me. he's not like what you lads do. all that coke, sleeping pills, and whatever else you all get your hands on,"
"we don't do coke darling, only pills, but thats solely to keep our minds awake," he tried to reason his unreasonable claim with me, yet did everything but succeed.
"whatever paul, this conversation is over, nice seeing you love, now bye," i waved him away, watching him let out an attention grasping scoff before he played a dramatic exit. ⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒
