- 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔶 𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔢. ミ

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╲⠀╲⠀╲ ╲

⠀⠀╲⠀╲⠀☆⠀ ╲⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀☆⠀╲⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ★

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀★






may 1859

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may 1859




"Hey, are you alright, Paul? Ye seem in the dumps today."

"Wha-huh? Oh.." Paul lowered his head dazedly, scratching idly at his knee. His vision was blurry at the edges and he couldn't seem to focus his gaze on anything properly when he looked up to see his father standing over him. "'m fine."

"C'mon, son! You can tell me what's up if you'd like." Jim smiled down at him, albeit worriedly; he sat down on the empty crate next to Paul, who was sitting on the pavement below, back resting against the cool brick wall of his house. He had been previously staring up at the edge of the wooden roof above, off within his own thoughts.

"Oh, no, da'-" He attempted to smile. "I'm fine. Just.. tired, is all." His eyes darkened forlornly, but he just stood up and brushed himself off before sending one last smile his father's direction. "Goin' to hang out with Ringo, 's that okay?"

"Alright. Be home for dinner." Jim nodded at him again, standing up himself to go back to working on the fields, like he always did. He was such a good dad, Paul knew that. He did so much to support them and care for them, even more so after Mary died. Paul wished he could be more open with him.

Letting out another despondent sigh, he left the scene and went off down the street to the pub where him and Ringo were gonna meet. He longed so much for John, to see him, touch him, kiss him... but he had heard nothing from his lover since he told him he would be confined to the manor. Paul knew it would be a long time before they'd be able to finally be together again. 

Lifting his head, he gazed at the cloudless sky above him. The ground was still damp and smelt earthy from the rain the day before, but the sun poured strongly down from the heavens, warming Paul's ebony hair and back. It was comforting, somewhat. He knew it would only get hotter from there as summer was just around the corner. He wondered what it'd be like to spend his summer with John. They weren't together, nor really friends, during the previous one. The doe-eyed boy could imagine hot nights spent together in the barn, maybe - or curled up in between the prince's expensive sheets. Probably on top of them, though; it would be too hot to sleep with the covers over them. He could imagine hot days too spent sneaking around the farm or in the luscious gardens of the manor, maybe wandering the streets of Liverpool with John wearing a disguise... 

It was appealing, definitely - but the sneaking unsettled him. He hated having to hide their relationship from everyone except George and Ringo. They had to hide the fact that they even knew each other. It was so exhausting, draining almost all enjoyment out of their time spent together, because they were both worrying too much about being caught, John being recognised, their insanely differing social statuses getting in the way of pretty much everything. Having to hide the romantic aspect of their relationship, he could handle - after all, everyone like them had to do it, George and Ringo being some of them. But they couldn't even be around each other without sneaking about or creating a whole new identity for his lover. 

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