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⠀⠀╲⠀╲⠀☆⠀ ╲⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
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november 1859
Bare feet shuffled against cold stone as a young boy darted back and forth around the bedroom, picking up random titbits and examining them, sometimes placing them back where he found them, other times placing them in a large suitcase that was slowly being filled up. The only light illuminating the room was from a warm, saffron oil lamp placed on the desk by the door, washing the room in its glow. Dropping to his knees beside his bed, Paul leant down to run his fingers along the timber slabs underneath that was holding up the mattress, eventually finding a certain item tucked in between and pulling it out; the boy gazed down at the object resting in his palms with an increasingly fond expression, wistful smile gracing his plump lips as he did so.
John's bracelet he'd given him back in May. The green and yellow crystals attached to the silver wire shone with an orange glow from the lamp, and the memories of the day he'd given it to him fogged his mind.
"Open yer eyes." John murmured, slowly letting go of his hands to rest his own in his lap, nervously chewing the inside of his cheek, thinking of Paul's reaction.
Doing so, the boy opened his fingers to find the shimmering bracelet in his palms.
"J-John!" He gasped in absolute shock, mouth falling open as he examined the piece of jewellery in wonder and awe.
"Think of it as.. an early birthday present." The older boy smirked when Paul's head lifted to lock eyes with him.
He couldn't believe that John would've spent so much money on a gift for him at the time. He could still feel the sun beating down on his bare back, George and Ringo nearby as they all lazed on the rocks, the hard stone beneath him hot and slightly stinging, painful against his skin. John's fingers brushing his when he placed the bracelet in his palms, eyes flashing with anxiety as he waited for his reaction. It was one of his most treasured memories. Pretty much every memory he'd ever had with John was a treasured memory. Every moment of lying there in the darkness together, moonlight staining his partner's auburn locks silver, or stolen moments in the safety of the barn; the time they spent in Paul's secret spots deep in the woods by his house, in the silken sheets of John's bedroom.. he vowed to keep those memories dear to him for the rest of his life, no matter what might happen in the future. Whether they might give up and turn back on their plan a few months in, or grow old together in Paris - or even move to another country or back to their home city; he would always remember every moment he'd ever spent with John, the first love of his life. And hopefully the only one. Paul figured he wouldn't find anyone quite like John ever again, anyway.. if he ever found someone else in the future, he felt they wouldn't quite complete him like John was always able to. It just wouldn't be possible.
If Paul had never given the prince a chance, let him into his life.. he had no idea where he'd be if he never chose to do that. Or if he had just never gone to the masquerade.
Paul chuckled a little, feeling his throat close up and tears spring in his eyes, leaning against the side of his bed. That was what started it all. That stupid masquerade that Paul had never really wanted to go to in the first place.. dancing with John. That was when everything in his life flipped on his head and was never the same afterwards. He was surprised they didn't get more backlash for doing that, but.. in that moment, he remembered that he didn't even care what anyone else thought, anyway. It wasn't like anyone recognised him and would be able to spot him walking down the street later. They were all masked and forced to remain nameless, except for the queen, of course. He remembered the rage he'd felt when he made eye contact with Queen Mary that night - or Mimi, as John called her most of the time - thinking about how the one percent of the population laid upon their golden thrones and bountiful riches, while the rest slaved away for their entire lives, only able to scrounge up enough for meagre meals, most children dying in the first ten years of their lives from horrible diseases.
It just wasn't fair! Life shouldn't be like that. They had so much more money than they'd barely even be able to spend, while Paul and George and the rest of the poor had to often turn to stealing to obtain what was needed to survive. Society as a whole shouldn't have such a gigantic imbalance, in Paul's opinion. The only time his thoughts ever changed on rich people was when he slowly fell for John. It showed that people could often be products of their environment, and didn't have to be arseholes even if they had a lot of money. Hatred and disdain for innocent people is a bred practice, not something that's ingrained from birth. When you're brought up around it, it can turn you into the aggressor. And it seemed the same with hatred towards queer people, too.
Paul knew he'd never be able to tell his father about the true nature of his and John's relationship. It was already quite a struggle when Mike found out.. he knew it would be much worse with Jim. He didn't hate his father for it, or really blame him all that much; he was just a product of their hostile environment like most other people. Paul hated it for a long time himself when he began to have feelings for John (the first time he'd ever felt romantic feelings for another boy, in fact). He felt disgusted, betrayed by his heart by longing for something that was considered wrong in every facet. He still did sometimes. Disgusted with himself, repulsed by his desires, a bred, instilled hatred for sodomy that would never fully fade, no matter what he did.
Instead he'd chosen to turn it into something else. To not look at it as queerness, or sodomy, per se - just focussing on John as a person. It was only John. Then, it didn't feel so wrong to him anymore.. in fact, he embraced it; because it was John. That's the only thing that matters about it to Paul. His love for John didn't feel wrong, didn't make him feel upset with himself for it.. it just felt perfect. He didn't consider himself a homosexual or anything like that, not really thinking about the technicalities or what his love for John labelled him as - because he just loved John, and that was all that mattered.
Letting out a soft sigh, he shuffled back to his suitcase where he was still packing his things, tucking the bracelet into the corner. He was never able to wear it anywhere most of the time, unless he had a long-sleeved shirt and was able to conceal it; it would raise too much suspicion, especially with his family, and he wasn't willing to take the risk. With that, he stood back up and sat at the desk, opening up the dingy drawer beneath and rummaging through it. He found a few old papers of childhood drawings that they'd kept, his worn out copy of Pride And Prejudice - which he had tried to read, even if he barely knew how, but he still liked to carry it with him anyway, feeling like it was comforting - and a wrapping paper with a drawing John had done of an unnamed large-nosed man. Paul remembered it had been a lemon tart or something of that sort, a little present for him when he still didn't like John and the prince was trying to show him that he wasn't who he thought he was. He couldn't believe how much had changed over the course of a year and a bit.
Placing those items in the suitcase, he examined his boots he'd gotten for his birthday from Ringo a few months earlier with a smile before putting them in alongside the other things he'd already piled inside. It felt strange to pack all of his things in one place. They barely ever had the money to travel to other places, so he'd really only been in Liverpool for his whole life.. the fact that he was about to leave to another whole country that spoke a totally different language was a little daunting, to say the least. But with John, he knew it would be okay in the end.
He'd just been about to continue searching for things to put away when he heard the front door opening, footsteps thudding against the stone floor as someone made their way inside the house; he froze in his spot and quickly moved to gather all of his things and shove the suitcase under the bed, throwing a sheet over it to cover it up before leaping onto his bed, heart racing wildly. Mike must've just come home from hanging out with his mates, Paul presumed, since he'd left in the early afternoon that day. Jim had gone off to visit some family members in another part of Liverpool and wouldn't be back until tomorrow afternoon.
"Paul?" He indeed heard Mike call his name, and he glanced up when the bedroom door opened and his brother peered in, smiling warmly when he spotted him there. It made Paul grin too, happy to see his brother.
"Aye, Mikey. How was yer friends?" He inquired, tilting his head before getting to his feet, moving past him to the kitchen, feeling the need for water.
"Good, good. We went to the pub and we got a bit smashed." Mike chuckled; only then did Paul notice his brother's deeply flushed cheeks and dilated pupils, and the way he was slightly unsteady on his feet when he trailed after Paul. So yes, he was tipsy. "Oliver threw up in the bushes on our way home."
"I can tell." He chuckled, rolling his eyes; he knew what that felt like all too well. "And poor Oliver. Surprised you weren't told ta fuck off by the bartender, though, most of ya look way too young."
"Well, you don't look exactly like an adult yerself." Mike shot back jokingly.
"Yeah, but Ringo does, so I'm usually dandy."
He laughed. "Yeah. I remember I was a little scared of him when you started becoming friends with him and he would hang out here. I thought he was like, twenty, when really he was thirteen or somethin'."
"I remember!" Paul chuckled, shaking his head a little as he poured himself a cup of water. "You used to run away and hide at first when he would come over, but eventually you came around."
"I know, poor Ringo." Mike scoffed a little as he sat at the kitchen table. "It feels a bit weird without da' here."
"Yeah, it does. He's not usually gone often." The raven-haired boy spun around on his heel, leaning against the kitchen counter and gazing at his brother. "We've never really left Liverpool, have we? Since we went to London only once, all those years ago.."
"Yeah, we haven't really gone anywhere. I would've loved to go to America or somethin', if we ever had the money." Mike shrugged, before his eyes lit up. "Or somethin' like France! That would be cool."
Paul swallowed thickly. If only he knew. He pinched his arm lightly in scolding to himself; don't give it all away! With that, he sighed and pushed off the counter, gazing out the window for a moment before turning back to the younger boy. He suddenly felt overcome with emotion, the reminder that he was leaving his brother behind lingering again in his head, making him have to clench his teeth to conceal the tears determinedly springing behind his eyes again.
"Mike.. you know I love you, right?" His voice quivered a little more than he intended.
"Um- yeah, 'course I do." His brother furrowed his brows, gazing at him in slight confusion and bemusement. "What's got you actin' like a bird?"
Paul didn't reply for a few seconds, clenching the edge of the counter tightly to keep composure before making his way over to Mike; he pulled him into a tight hug, burying his head in his shoulder as he squeezed him tightly. It was going to be one of the last moments with his brother before he'd be gone for god knows how long, uncertain whether or not he could come back to visit after everything blew over. If the ordeal would ever blow over. He was endlessly grateful for Mike's existence, his stupid humour directed at him, his willingness to help him out whenever he needed it... he was the best brother anyone could ask for. They'd been through everything together. It was going to be really really hard for him to say goodbye.
"You alright, Paul?" Mike chuckled when they finally parted, his hands lingering on his shoulders, looking even more concerned now. "You've been actin' so strange the last few weeks. Somethin' happen with John?"
"No, no, we're alright. Just.. I want you to know I love you, and no one could ask for a better brother." Paul sniffled a little, grinning through his teary eyes. "In spite of you makin' fun of me all the time, you're really kind at heart, and I hope- I hope you make it in the world. Y'know? Do what yer heart tells ya and all that. Don't let anythin' hold ya back, even da'."
They both shared laughter for a few seconds before falling into silence again.
"I dunno what's goin' on with you lately, Paul.. but thank you. It-.. it means a lot to hear that from ya." Mike smiled, eyes glinting with affection as he lightly punched his shoulder. "Now stop bein' a sap, 'm gonna go to bed."
"Yeah, yeah," Paul rolled his eyes, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes to rid his tears. "see you tomorrow."
With that, he watched Mike's retreating figure into their singular bedroom, standing by the kitchen table; a singular tear rolled down his cheek and he buried his head in his hands.
Why does everything have to be so complicated?
✧✧✧✧✧
"John!"
"Paul! Oh, thank god. I was worried you weren't gonna come..."
"I'd never do that to you, love."
A light frosting of wet snow spread across the stone footpath, disturbed by footfalls and kicked into the gutter; the pair we've seen falling for each other over time shared a brief hug - though they longed for more, they had to take into consideration that they were in public, even if they had thick coats and hats on to disguise their faces - before making their way further into the park they'd arranged to meet at, avoiding clumps of melting snow that were spilling from the leaves of the trees and onto the ground. The clouded, early-morning sky was obscured with clouds, and it was beginning to start snowing as it neared December, obvious by the remainders of snow from the night before. John did enjoy colder seasons, though he preferred summer and spring most of the time, since he loved water, especially the ocean - and you didn't usually go for a dip in the middle of winter, unless you wanted hypothermia.
Eventually Paul and John settled in a spot farthest away from sight under a huge oak tree, the younger resting up against the trunk as they stood there, shadowed and constantly glancing about to make sure no one was near. Eventually when they were sure they were alone, John captured Paul's lips with his own, cupping his flushed cheek with a cold hand, the younger wrapping his arms around his waist. Eventually they broke apart, their breaths condensed and visible in the frigid air. The raven-haired boy's round eyes glittered with a strong affection and they shared an adoring smile, John burying his head in the crook of his neck, relishing the warmth radiating from it.
Today was the day. He was going to confess to Paul his true feelings; he'd kept it to himself for long enough, insecure about whether he felt the same, but eventually he told himself to grow a pair and just tell him. Even if Paul didn't feel as strongly, it didn't matter - he just needed to let him know. How devoted he was to him. If Paul didn't love him back, well.. he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. He knew it wouldn't be good to dwell on the consequences for too long, lest he give into his insecurities and retreat behind his mental walls, losing all the resolve he'd managed to scrape together.
"How've you been? You faring well?" John queried, lifting his head to gaze at Paul in concern.
"Alright, to say the least." His partner chuckled, albeit humourlessly. He toyed with the almond-eyed boy's glasses idly as he spoke. "Gathered pretty much everythin' I need now.. I think da' and Mike are a bit suspicious that somethin's up, but 's okay. What about you?"
"Stressful. So much paperwork stuff, organisin' the house, along with the wedding and the crowning. We've just been preparing for all these things, I just want it all to end.." He groaned, hanging his head a little.
"It will soon, you know that." Paul ran a hand through his auburn locks, smiling at him sympathetically. "'Soon as all of us are ready and we find a good time to leave undetected."
John beamed back, kissing him briefly. "Yeah." They both fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments, one nervously biting his nails and racing hearts, the other gazing at him in slight confusion.
"John, what's wrong? I can see yer anxious." Paul gently took his hand to stop him biting his nails, entwining their fingers with a raise of an eyebrow.
"Alright, alright.." He relented. "I- need to tell you somethin'." He licked his lips nervously. "It's serious."
"Tell me." The younger encouraged, running his thumb along his knuckles with a careful smile. "'m all ears."
He hesitated. No more waiting and wondering, John, he told himself determinedly, you have to tell him now. Or else you might not ever feel like you can again. He clutched onto both of Paul's calloused hands, hands that he'd grown to love - slender fingers, but well worked, rough palms, blunt nails often choked with dirt - and gazed into his eyes. Those eyes that haunted his every waking and unconscious moment, round with dark, spider legged lashes and droopy, tired lids, so expressive and colourful. Shards of green and yellow with rings of hazel. They seemed to change colour in the light, too.. like in that moment, they were a brownish grey in the darkness, but in the sunlight, they were almost a golden green. They never failed to enchant John. His thin, upturned nose, tinted pink from the cold, dark arched brows that complimented his eyes so well; skin that knew the sun well with freckles like stardust across his flushed cheeks and the bridge of his nose, his plump lips shaped in a perfect cupids' bow.. how could a single person be so utterly stunning? He wondered how on earth Paul would ever fall for him; he was incredibly average in every single possible way compared to him. Paul was insanely talented, especially with music - the way he immediately picked up techniques he'd learnt in the past on the piano when he taught him was astounding. He could just make up any wonderful melody whenever he wished, it was a fascinating sight to behold. His unending kindness, willingness to stand up for what he believes in, unchanging for anyone. His optimism and witty humour, the fact that he'd given John a chance at all in the first place.. every possible thing about him he loved. How could anyone not love him?
His fingers absentmindedly traced Paul's side, where his stab wound was, permanent scar forever on his skin since the fight at the bar all those months ago. It still sent a bolt of rage down his spine, jaw tightening in fury. If I ever come across those guys again, I swear I'll beat them to a pulp. Shaking away those angry thoughts, he locked eyes with Paul again, feeling his heart swell with an emotion so strong that his throat began to close up and tears sprung behind his eyes.
"How fucking beautiful you are.." John breathed, dumbfounded.
"..w-what?" Paul blinked a few times in shock, before his cheeks grew even redder and he ducked his head a little to hide his shy grin. "Oh.. thanks."
"Paul, I love you." He blurted.
An astounded silence fell over the pair, the only sound interrupting it being the rustle of the branches above and the distant sound of the city life around them; Paul froze in his spot, eyes slowly widening and glistening with shock, mouth falling open. There was a faraway bark of laughter before there was silence again. John felt his insecurities begin to arise again as Paul continued to say nothing, fear bubbling in his chest with every passing second.
"I... I know it's a lot to say and that. But I'm dead serious. I-I love you." John swallowed thickly, hands clenching Paul's tighter. "I just.. needed to tell you now before I lost my confidence. I'm sorry-"
"John!" Paul cut him off. He glanced up to see a huge beam crawling onto his partners' face - bigger than he'd ever seen. His eyes glistened with unshed tears and he let out an incredulous laugh before gripping the sides of his face, pressing their lips together fiercely. John's heart leapt crazily in his chest as he tentatively rested his hands on the other's shoulders. They parted and John stood there, dazed for a few seconds, glasses askew; he adjusted them and blinked at Paul in utter bewilderment.
"W-what?"
"I-" Paul bit his lip, letting out another laugh before pulling him into a tight hug. "I love you too. I- I love you. Oh my god."
John felt his stomach lurch, head lighter than air, as if threatening to float into the sky, and he couldn't help but grin himself, feeling his cheeks beginning to burn. "Are.. are you serious?" He does feel the same way! Oh my god, I could literally die happy right now.
"Yes! Yes, I-... I can't believe you feel the same way-" Paul stuttered, vainly trying to form his feelings into sentences, and John felt his back shudder in his grip; he buried his head in the other's shoulder, eyes shut tightly as he revelled in their new confessions. He really hadn't expected Paul to feel the same way.. it seemed everything around them was falling away now, just the two of them together, nothing else existed. Nothing could take that moment away from them. Paul was all that mattered to John. And John was all that mattered to Paul.
"God.. I love you so much, Paul. You're.. you're just so great in every way ever- I'm so glad you feel the same." John babbled incoherently, feeling his hot tears stain the shoulder of Paul's coat as they continued to clutch at each other for dear life, as if it was their last time - as if they would fall apart at the seams if they let go of each other. He felt Paul's grip on him tighter, and it was all he needed.
They had stood there for a long time. Just holding each other under the shade of that large oak in the depths of the park in the early morning, everything around them obsolete as they could only focus on each other. Eventually they moved away, only slightly; just so they could look each other in the eyes. John wiped away at Paul's tears with a wet laugh, pushing his glasses back up his nose before they shared a tearful kiss, resting their foreheads against each other afterwards.
"Paul?" John's voice was hoarse, just above a whisper.
"Yes?" Paul was just as quiet himself, as if they felt that if they spoke any louder, it would break the spell that had been cast over them.
"You won't regret this, I promise."
"Regret what?" Paul furrowed his brows a little as he toyed with the ends of John's hair.
"Regret running away." John blinked up at him.
He laughed quietly, cupping his partner's cheek.
"I won't if it's with you."
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author's note.
__________________
hii only one chapter left and
then its all over !! god this
has seriously been a wild ride
aaAH anyways hope u guys
enjoyed this chapter, love
confessions galore wooo
anyways see you guys for
the last chapter (: almost sad
this is ending, though im glad
for the most part. byeeee