-- P A U L --
"Get the fuck out of here, you piece of shit!" Jim bellowed as he threw Paul out of the house. He shook his fist in the air angrily; hating his son for waking him up.
"And don't you ever come back, you fucking fat ass!"
With that, Jim slammed the door shut, not giving his son a second glance. Mike soon slid out the window of their bedroom, jumping onto the tree branch and landing on the ground. As he made his way to the park ---he didn't give two fucks about school--- Mike kicked Paul in the stomach, causing the older lad to groan in pain.
Once Paul had the nerve to sit up from the sudden blow, he sighed as he saw his brown lunch bag smothered to a flat form. He would have to borrow a bit of food from his only friend, George Harrison.
Standing up, Paul began to waddle towards the bus stop. He waited paitiently for the yellow vehicle to arrive. Once the breaks screeched to a complete stop, he got inside and immediately searched for John.
John sat at his usual seat. His hair was slightly tossled today, something that Paul wasn't used to. He sat alongside the older male, waiting to be greeted by his bus companion.
"Hi, Paul." John greeted. His eyes remained on the window. He had arrived home at six in the morning after he had kissed Paul.
"Hey, John." Paul smiled, placing his hand gently on John's hand.
John looked in his direction and tensed up.
"How are you?"
---
-- J O H N --
"How are you?" Paul had asked.
John tensed at the feeling of Paul's hand touching his. He wasn't used to it. He didn't want anyone seeing them in the sort of contact they were in. And because of this, John slowly moved his hand over to his left leg; away from Paul's touch.
"I'm fine."
With that, he looked out the window. Not saying another word to Paul.
Because he had a rush of adrenaline coursing through his body like an electric current, something that could only be caused by Paul's gentle caress.
John was going mad with these feelings of his. He didn't know how to take over. The only way he knew how was to be the cynical, cold-hearted git that he already was.
Paul turned the other way, plugging in his ear buds as Elvis Presley rang through his ears. He really wished the bus would come to a stop. He wanted to leave and never look at John Lennon in the eye ever again.
Just as soon as that thought surfaced into the realms of his mind, the bus comes to a complete stop. Paul let's out a sigh of relief, then gets up from his seat and leaves; not saying another word to the teddy boy adjacent to him.
John looked up and watched Paul leave. He didn't care.
But if he didn't care, then why was it that his heart panged at the sight of Paul leaving?