If You Want Me Too, I Will (B...

By Sarathebeatlelover

22.1K 539 86

(Beatle Fan Fiction) "He sighed painfully and dragged a hand across the side of his greased up hair. I felt s... More

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue

Chapter 20

690 24 11
By Sarathebeatlelover

  Chapter 20

"Come on Deway!" I had locked myself in the bathroom at this point. I could no longer take Lola and her "advice" or her showing how beautiful I could be. But I wasn't beautiful, and I didn't expect to ever be.

"I'm done Lola, you can go home now!" I shouted back through the door. I did my best to avoid the mirror, because the last thing I wanted to do was look at myself in the mirror. It didn't matter, I didn't have my glasses.

"I will break yer glasses!" I grabbed the door handle, almost opening the door after hearing that, but I hesitated for a second. I knew what she would have me wear, and look like, and feel so horrible about who I was as a person, as a female, as a whatever. I never wore powder, but at that moment, I was caked with it. I was buried underneath a pile of powder, and I couldn't find myself.

I opened the door, "Don't! I'll do whatever, just let me wear my glasses," She smiled with her goofiness showing and handed me my glasses. I placed them on my face, and she pushed me towards the mirror. I saw myself and I shivered.

"You don't have any nice clothes, but I got the nicest I could fine that match, in you closet, so you can wear those," I sighed at that.

"Why are my lips so red?" I lightly felt my lips, wondering if it would be there forever, but only finding it slightly on my fingers. It was so strange, it felt so strange, like someone painted my face.

My hands were shaking, so I put them back into my pockets, and looked down. I felt so stupid, and feared that Richard would forget what I actually looked like underneath all this shit. I almost forgot, and I've lived with it for my whole life.

"It's yer color," 

"I do not have a color Lola," She shrugged and dragged me into my bedroom, where she had clothes laid out for me. I sighed again, almost in pain for having to do this. I doubt I had to do this, but it was being done anyway, because I had my glasses to worry about. Also, maybe he would like it, even if I don't. A roar that started white and went red and on and on in a rushing wind.

"Yer silly Deway! Now try on the clothes," She left the room, and I sighed. I wasn't really thinking then, but I could have gotten out of it then, but I didn't, for whatever reason. I pulled off my clothes that I wanted to wear, and put on what was chosen for me. I exited the room, and felt horrible about what I looked like. 

"Are we done?" She nodded and squealed so happily. It was now time to go, to go to the one place I didn't really want to go to. But I did, because I wanted to, "Then, I'm going," I walked down the stairs and my mother just happened to stop me.

"Danielle, dinner has been ready for hours, and you haven't eaten anything yet," Everything was almost ready, but nothing was ever really finished. 

"I'm going out with Lola for a while, I'll be home later," I thought I saw her smile twitch.

"Who said you could?" 

"Just don't worry about it, I'll be back eventually," Or never. Lola waved and skipped out of the front door, which I followed, shutting the door behind me. It was time to go, "Lola, I want you to go and hang out with Paul-"

"No, I wanna be with George," 

"Then be with George, I don't care, just don't go home till I do, my mom will be most suspicious of me," She giggled and smiled, jumping around stupidly. I was so annoyed, but her happiness rubbed off, also, Richard.

I looked down at my feet and smiled slightly. I quickly covered my smile, and whipped it off my face, so that no one would ever know. Lola poked me in the side, making me look over, keeping the smile off.

"He makes ya happy, I can tell," Lola was still that genius, she knew everything about everything, and I shall never doubt her, at least, when it comes to what she actually knows. 

"Just go and find George, I have this under control," She nodded, and rushed off in another direction, across the street. I went to the corner, peering around and wondering how far he is and where he is, wondering how long I will have to sit there on the curb of the street, and wait. 

I didn't dare touch my face, I tried very hard to forget about that fact.

Today I brought a watch, so I could closely watch the time. I was once very obsessed with time, but then it lost it's meaning, when the only thing that mattered was the pain that was felt by everyone, and all the time. Things were supposed to change over time, but it took space for that to happen, and miles of ocean.

It was getting dark, being that it was eight at night in Liverpool, and I was getting nervous. I thought he would just appear right at eight o'clock, but apparently not. I took off my glasses and looked at the little marks all over the glass.

I sighed, and waited some more. Maybe he wasn't even going to come, and maybe he was messing with me, and maybe I was a fucking idiot. I felt like I had the genius of Lola, and that I was going to be waiting all night, with this stuff on my face.

I just don't want to be sad, sadness is bad. That's the sadness they bet before they quit or betray. That is the sadness that comes before the sell-out.

For a moment, I thought about going home, but it wasn't much better there.

He was running, when I noticed him down the street. I quickly scrambled to my feet, brushed my uncomfortable pants, and waited for just a few seconds for him to appear in front of me. 

"Sorry for bein' late, I had to run from me house," It was almost like we had met again for the first time, because I didn't have much to say in return, but if I was more comfortable with him, I would say exactly what was on my mind. 

He had jeans on with a dress shirt tucked in. He also had a black tie, trying to be fancy, or trying to look good. He looked good, but I never said that. 

"It's okay," I told him I would never lie, but I always seem to. I looked into his eyes, trying not to be so embarrassed that I was there, and could see how he was curious, excited, possibly hurt, and confused that I was not normal. He wanted to say a lot, but never did. We had so much in common.

"Alright, let's go," We started to walk, Richard leading and protecting me from anything that might pop out of the dark. We stood closer than what we normal did, my side lightly touching his side, but no hand holding yet, no matter what small part of me wanted it. The little shivers and shocks that ran through my arm and into my body. It actually felt good, for once, and it made me wonder if he could feel such a thing. 

"What, um, what movie are we going to see?" Together? 

"Eh," He shrugged, "Anythin' ya want to see," I shook my head and kept my hands against my sides. Richard did the same, in the darkening light.

"Oh, I don't know," It was cold, and I almost shivered, but I didn't want his jacket, "Anything, it doesn't matter," I would rather not be scared shit-less, and not learn about some stupid romance, but I would have, because I didn't know what to actually say. I never really knew what to say, but now I didn't even know how to guess at it. 

The walk wasn't very long, because we soon turned a few street corners, and found ourselves at this building, with all the movie names above us, and lights shining brightly. The building was rather small, and probably had only older movies, nothing too recent.

It looked pretty popular, compared to anything I had seen, in small town, America. My thoughts were consumed with his, so I didn't bother thinking about this place.

We went up to the ticket booth, behind a few people in line, and began to talk again. 

"Hey, The King and I, I remember hearing about that," Richard also noticed the poster that was next to the doors of the theatre. 

"We could see that," I remembered at this moment the fact that I had no money with me, and that these things actually caused money. I reached into my pockets, and pulled out house keys, and nothing else. Richard noticed, "I can pay for the tickets,"

"Thanks," I scratched my nose, and looked down. The awkwardness was murdering me in my sleep, and in my days. 

"Of course," We got to the window, and Richard asked, "Two for The King and I," I looked away at the few people standing behind us, and people going into the theatre. None of them bothered to look at me, and I didn't expect them to. I just saw shades of faces, that possibly thought like me, or like Richard.

"Here ya are, enjoy the film," Richard got the tickets, thanked the man, and handed me a ticket, which I quickly grabbed. I went for the door that lead to the actual theatre while he rushed after me to try to open the door first.

But as it turned out, I pulled the door and smacked him backwards.

"Shit, Richard?" I felt stupid as hell at that moment, as I seem to at every moment. He hit the wall, not too hard, and grunted.

"I'm alright," His face was red, but he wasn't bleeding. I helped him catch his balance, and made sure he was okay enough to walk.

"Sorry about that," He quickly shrugged it off, and we actually made it through the door this time. I almost laughed at his pain, not because I wanted him to get hurt, but because it had to happen that way, at this time, at this place.

We sat in the back, but it wasn't like this theatre was very big to begin with, so we weren't high up or far away from the screen. We were slightly early, so we just sat in a strange silence, that wrapped me in a blanket, and threw me down a flight of stairs.

 "Hm, alright then?" Small talk, I didn't really feel like talking or being small, but I knew how to do it. I am never afraid of what I know.

"I mean I just caused you to get hit in the face again, so I don't really know anymore," Oops, but I didn't stop, "And I don't know why I'm here, or why I have all this shit on my face, or why I can't just stay home for once," He didn't respond at first, and I just looked down at my hands. If I prayed, then I would have, but I couldn't even bring myself to do it before, and so I didn't do it then.

The movie started, before Richard could say anything else in response to me, I let out a breath of quick relief.

But quickly took it back. 

Simply put, he reached over and put his arm around my back to my shoulder, and I just stared forward. His hand was against my shoulder, the simple touch of someone like him making me shiver slightly. I hated it, the memories and the past.

The last thing, and the very first thing, I needed was him trying to do this. I was sure he wasn't going to do anything, and now he was trying. 

I grabbed his arm and gave it back to him. He didn't try again, he was much too hurt by that first act, that trying again looked almost dangerous. 

**************************************************************************

That movie wasn't very accurate, but that was not of important after it ended. I had to walk home, and he was most likely going to respond to my actions. It wasn't like there was an actual answer to any of them, just stories, and emotions, and impulses. 

We hastily left the theatre, thought Richard wanted to take a slow walk. That wasn't going to happen, as I had decided.

"Dewey, yer not okay," I sighed.

"You have great observation skills," I had lowered into a deep part of my anger, and emotions. It was because of him, and because of everyone else as much. 

"I'm tryin' here!" I stopped and looked back at him, surprised he could even open his mouth at me. I was angry, but so happy he finally did that. 

"What?" He gulped.

"I-I-I just am tryin' to be someone good enough for your Majesty," I stiffened, feeling the word rush through my skin, and I glared at him. Someone was trying to slap me, but I kept pushing their hands away from my face.

"Are you trying to hurt me?" I turned and kept walking away. Everything I actually found myself caring about ended up killing me somewhere along the line.

"No, course not!" He chased after me, and I just wanted to run, but I couldn't bring myself to run away. I had no energy, nor did I want to have to run from someone I thought I could have trusted for once, I ran from him anyway, "I just . . . care about ya,"

God damn it, "It doesn't matter," I blinked, as he came around to my front again, and again. He was trying, but I just refused to see it. 

"I don't get what is wrong with ya, but ya won't even tell me," I turned away from his eyes. The pain I felt was all in his eyes. He likes to keep going, and he sighed, "Dewey, I want to help you, you know this!" 

I know, "You can't, I'll just get hurt," I just walked away, the second time that day I was walking and I can't seem to get far enough away from him. I was trying to hide and he kept digging me up, trying to get me to stop being so scared. 

He wasn't following this time, I couldn't hear his footsteps behind me, or his breathing, or his heartbeat. What I heard was my emotions trying to burst from my face, and my stone cold expression holding them back. I didn't want all this, I didn't move here to get all of this. I was trying to get away, but it just met me around the corner. 

I heard him, but he wasn't right behind me.

"Thank you!" I paused in my steps.

I turned and yelled back, "For what?!"

"You know, for just being around, for showing up for at least a while in me life!" He called back. From his voice, I could tell he was completely honest. 

"Why is that good at all? I'm leaving it now!" I really thought I was. He stopped yelling, and seemed more calm, strangely.

"I know, but at least I got to be happy for a while, you know. And I will remember that there was one bird that made me happy, even if I really miss her," That ripped at me like the serious slaps I've been getting before. In the night he awoke and held her tight as though she were all of life and it was being taken away from him, "So, I just tryin' to keep that bird," 

He looked down at his feet, and had said everything that he could muster. I was broken enough now, to turn around and walk back to him. Everything in me screamed to go home, or leave him, or just do anything that did not involve Richard. 

But I moved anyway, and basically ran, up to him. I felt so much, but I still managed to keep my posture in front of him, and within my real self. 

"Richard," I blinked the feelings away, "Let me tell you something you one fact," He looked back, into my eyes, under my glasses. He smiled, he gave me my smile, the one that actually made me happy when ever I saw it.

"Yeah?" He nodded, and was most likely happy just to have me still standing there.

"I'm scared, and I am too scared to trust anyone, even you," He nodded very carefully, now even more aware of where he is standing, on the shaking ground of me.

"Alright," He lightly brushed his hand across my cheek, and chuckled slightly, "Is this too much?" I didn't know, I still don't really know. 

"I should get going," He removed his hand. 

"Oh, can I see ya again?" No no no no no no no no.

"Yes," Stop, stop it, "Dinner, tomorrow, same corner, at 5," He breathed again, but I did not, and it took time. 

"I can walk ya home, or at least, as far as ya want me," I took his hand, and nodded. It felt so strangely good, and maybe I wasn't so scared for a bit. Our fingers fit together, and Richard pulled me so close to his side, I felt overwhelmed with the emotions. 

We walked, in silence, but not a horrible blanket that was trying to destroy me, but something that was trying to warm me and make me feel better about who I actually am. He was aware that he had no real idea of who this bird was, and that I had so much to hide, because of my fear. And, now that he knew, I wasn't so scared. 

One day, I would be able to talk about it, but that wasn't that day. He was still there, and so I would go to dinner, tomorrow. 

We got to the corner, he kissed me on the cheek, and did not bother to say goodbye.

"Deway!" Richard was around the corner, and Lola had appeared somewhere else. I was still touching my cheek.

"Hello Lola," I almost expected her to come over and show that she was going to marry someone, not because she was in love though. Maybe George gave her a daisy, he's much too young for roses. 

"How did it go?!" I don't know.

"We are going out for dinner tomorrow," Lola gasped and clutched on to me. The amount I cared was low. 

"But, what about yer pa?" Sometimes, I speak to Lola, because she's too far gone, and I haven't had a friend before that I could speak to. 

"He doesn't get it yet, I didn't tell him about anything really," I rubbed my eyes, and sighed almost happily. I was almost happy, "He won't hit me, and be so disappointed in me that he leaves like everyone else, so I can almost . . . trust him . . . ." Lola giggled, and tugged on my side.

"George said he thought I was pretty," Of course. 

"Richard convinced me to stay," I think that meant more. I told Lola I would see her again sometime, and entered my house again from the unlocked front door. I locked it behind me, though it's not like it would protect me from anything anyway.

It was silent in the house, my mother must have been asleep by now, at least I thought at first, and Marshall is somewhere. 

I was trying my best to keep the silence as I moved through the house, with each step on the stairs, the house creaked slightly, and I held my breath. It was strange, to be a stranger in my own house, and to be afraid to even move. It was always this way, never any different, but it seems that that day was actually going to start a change. 

Things might go uphill, but I was unsure.

My mother's door was shut, but the light was on. I stopped in front of her door, and thought about it. I could have thought about it for hours, or seconds, but it got to the point where I just slowly reached forward with my hand and knocked, lightly. 

"Come in," I pushed open the door, and stood in the door way, looking at my mother sitting in her rocking chair and reading. She took off her glasses and put them on the table, and set the book down, waiting for me to say something. It did not feel like a homecoming. 

I just looked at her and spoke in monotone, "I was on a date, with Richard," It didn't even move, I wasn't sure if I was even breathing, "We saw a movie," She set her hands in her lap, and held onto my gaze. We had the same gaze, he noticed that. 

"Thank you," She gave me a nod, with a small smile. I think she was genuinely happy that I had told her the truth. I expected so much more, for her to try to lock me in a box in my room, and possibly murder him. But she did not, she just nodded.

So I went to my room, locked the door, and got out of those clothes. I did my best to wipe the powder off my face, and slipped on his shirt. It wasn't really smelling like him anymore, and made me slightly disappointed. 

I would have to get a new shirt, I'll get one tomorrow.

****************************************************** 

I WROTE AN EPILOGUE! WOO!

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