We are Just Lonely People, Living Lonely Lives (Beatle Fan Fic)

Chapitre 17

Chapitre 17

Promesse mio, promesse mio, promesse mio, promesse mio.

Those two words ran through my head over and over again, as I fixed my clothes in front of a mirror in my room. I heard his voice in my ear as he continued to say that, over and over, telling me, over and over, and how I continued to respond. 

I promise, I promise, I promise, I promise, I promise.

Why would I have to continue to thing of such a thing, I don't know really. Was Paul now competition for John to battle over me with? No, of course not, John truly wants me, like maybe he loves me. It's wishful thinking of course, right? And Paul only wants me for my beauty, like John told me. 

God I hope so.

I don't want Paul to be nice, I almost want him to act like he gets all the girls, as he does, and isn't worried about me. So I can run home to John and tell him how he's the only one for me, and how this cover really won't mean anything to me, and how I kept my promise. 

There we go, I'll just think about that, how I'll see my Johnny soon, how everything will turn out ok for us two lonely people, right? RIGHT? 

Breathing myself calm, I just focused on my look, trying to not look like a complete mess. I mean I want to look nice, it was a date right? I tried to just think peacefully about all of this, but it was hard to do, like the first time you ever go on a date and you don't know to expect yet. 

My father was home today, home tôt apparently. He came to my shut door, knocking lightly and pushing into open, just a bit to look at me, "Rosie sweetie?" I turned to look at him, and my father smile with those old wrinkles, that made him look older than he was. 

"You look so nice, is something going on tonight?" He stood by me, putting his hand on my shoulder and standing taller than me. I put my hair into the braid again, the one I liked, and let it hang over my shoulder. I wore a black V neck sweater, with a white shirt underneath, grey jeans with a black belt, and a darker grey flat shoes. I had a simple jacket I could wear outside, it was December anyway. I had a little bit of mascara on, with some more make up as well, natural in some way. 

 "I have-" There was a knock on the door down stairs, and I shut up. I didn't realize it was already 6, probably too busy worrying about my look and how I will react to being with someone, other than John. 

"Who's that?" I didn't answer as I followed my father, expressionless, down the stairs, and to the front door, where I knew Paul was waiting for me, on the other side. My father opened the door, and I wondered what he would say to him. 

"Yes?" My father stood in front of me and I couldn't seen what Paul looked like, if he would change his look for me at all anyway. 

"Ello sir!" His voice showed how cheery he always is, "I'm here to take your daughter, Rosie, out, with your permission of course." I went around my dad, standing in front of him so I could see now. I was surprised, to say the least, to see how Paul looked for this. Vraiment agréable, actually nice.

He smiled at me, wearing a black tie over a grey shirt, with some nice dress pants. His black hair was combed up nicer, less loosely than a few days before. I blushed and looked down, feeling a bit embarrassed just to be in his presents, how he tired like I did. 

"Oh," Paul lifted his hand to me, holding a rose, "Here you are, I figured you know, because of your lovely name," I used two of my fingers, lifting the rose from his hand and twirled it between my fingers, never being given a flower before.