In My Life
Pairing: Paul McCartney x Beatle!reader
Genre: idk what to call this. kinda a sadish thing with a happy ending.
Summary: (y/n) leaves the band after an argument with Paul. She goes back home to Germany, but Paul follows her.
Warning: cursing
Note: This is 100% fictional, the timeline also may not be accurate. Most songs aren't from that era either, sorry. Fyi, Paul and (y/n) had a one night stand a couple years back.
(y/n)- Your name
(y/f/n)- Your full name
(y/n/n)- your nickname
Three bloody months and Paul still hadn't heard anything from (y/n). It was as if she had disappeared into thin air. He had come knocking at her front door every day for the past few weeks just to be told by the maid that (y/n) was out. It was getting ridiculous. He knew that the last time they had seen each other, he had hurt her. He had hurt all of his friends. John, Ringo, George hadn't spoken to him either, but at least he knew that they were still alive. (y/n) on the other hand had vanished.
"Please Louise, just tell her I want to apologize." he begged the maid for the 35th time.
"I am sorry, Mr. McCartney, but she is not at home." Louise replied calmly.
"Is she even in the bloody country?" he asked exasperatedly.
"No, she went back home. She told me she's making her own album. I am not sure when she will be back." Louise said, surprised that he didn't know.
"Wait, she's in Germany?"
"Why yes. Didn't she say so?"
"No, no she didn't." he said quietly.
He couldn't believe that he had hurt (y/n) so badly that she had left the country. She had gone right back to the place she had left a decade ago.
He had to make this right again. He had to apologize.
༺ ༻
He walked into the tiny studio. Paul hadn't even made it to the reception area, when he already heard her voice.
"We only said goodby with words, I died a hundred times"
He stood still, to listen to (y/n)'s voice a little more
"Ohmeingott, Paul McCartney." the receptionist squeaked when she noticed him come in. (you probably already got the gist of this but it means 'ohmygod Paul McCartney')
"Umm... could you please tell (y/n)(y/l/n) that I'm here?" he asked tentatively, knowing that in such a small town the receptionist would not know english.
"Wie bitte?" she asked, confirming his suspicions. (pardon me)
"Who ist (y/f/n)" he asked again, trying to remember some German she had taught him many years ago. (Where is (y/f/n)
"Sie ist oben. Gehen sie die Treppen hoch un dann die erste Tür rechts." the receptionist said, pointing to the stairs in the back of the room. (she is upstairs. go up the stairs and then the first door right)
"Danke," Paul thanked her, and made his way upstairs, following the sound of (y/n)'s voice.
He quietly opened the door and entered the small room. (y/n) stood in the booth, a group of session musicians behind her. There was only one other person on his side of the glass. The bearded man who seemed to be the one recording turned and looked at him, but didn't say anything. After a few seconds he turned back to (y/n).
