Cavern Days | A Beatles Fan Fiction

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“Paul! Are you ready to go?” I called out as Paul came stumbling out of the bathroom, quickly slipping on his trousers.

“Yeah, yeah.” He got himself together and stood in front of me, “I’m ready.”

“Alright, let’s go.”
We quickly ran to his car, Paul driving as fast as the speed limit would allow.

“I can’t wait until you’re fully living with me.” He sighed and smiled, then looked over at me, “You’re so beautiful.”
I blushed as we pulled into my driveway.
“Ready?” He asked as we stood in front of the door.

“Very much so,” I took out my key and unlocked the door, noticing Celia in the kitchen making breakfast.

“There you are!” She exclaimed, coming over to hug me, “did you have fun last night?”

“The funnest,” I chuckled, pulling away from her, “but I have great news, you’re not going to believe it!”

“What is it?” She smiled ear to ear.

“I am moving in with Paul!”

Her smile faded quickly.
“What?”

“Come on, Paul, let's get my things together.” We both went down the hall and into my bedroom. I pulled my suitcase out of my closet and started to pack my clothes into it. I finally had all of my clothes in, and it could barely close, but it luckily did.
I put my makeup and all other things related into a small backpack that was stuffed into my closet. Soon, everything was packed, so we walked out of my old bedroom and into the living room, where Celia sat on the sofa, crying.
“Celia?” I asked, sitting down next to her, “I know It may seem like I’m being an idiot because Paul and I have only known each other for two days, but we love each other. I promise I’ll visit all the time, you’re my best friend.” I hugged her, Celia smiling.
“You’re not,” she said, “I'm just gonna miss you, Gloria. This is such short notice, don’t you think?”

“I know,” I hugged her, “I promise I’ll visit all the time, okay?”

She nodded, “Go along,” She said as she stood up, walking into her bedroom.

“Let’s go,” Paul said, grabbing my hand and leading me to the door.

“Okay,” I followed him back into his car.

We sat on the leather seats of his car as I stared out the window.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, “if you want to still live with her, we can just bring your stuff back inside. I only did this because you said you wanted to, and because I wanted to.”

“No, it’s fine. Let’s go.”
He frowned and nodded, then started the car and started driving back to his place.

When we finally arrived back at his apartment, I quickly unpacked my things. I stuffed my clothes into the drawers of his dresser, and he let me put everything else on top of it.  After I finished, I sat down on the bed and admired Paul’s, and now my, bedroom. I sat there for some time and thought to myself, not noticing that Paul was calling me for lunch.

“Gloria,” Paul said, entering the bedroom, “lunch is ready.”
I looked up at him and nodded, then stood up and started walking towards the dining room.

“Would you like something to drink, love?” He asked as he pulled a chair out for me to sit in.

“Yes, please.” I answered as he went into the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of milk, pouring it into two glasses. He came back into the dining room and one glass next to his plate and the other next to mine. “Thank you,” I told him, lifting the cup and taking a sip from it. He nodded as he took a bite out of his sandwich.
For the next couple of minutes, we sat there and ate our lunch silently. I didn’t look up at him the entire time, but I could occasionally see him frown at me out of the corner of my eye.
“What’s wrong, dear?” He asked, making my eyes land on him.

“Nothing,” I said as I grabbed my plate and cup, bringing it to the sink. I then went into the living room and sat on the couch, Paul joining me a few moments after.

“That doesn’t sound too convincing, y’know.” He said, wrapping an arm around my waist. “You want to go back, eh?”

“That’s the problem,” I said, “I feel guilty because I don’t want to go back.”

“Makes sense,” Paul told me, “You want to be here, right?”

“Right.”

“But you feel guilty because it was such short notice?”

“Exactly,” I stood up, “I want to be here, but the thing is, I sort of feel bad.”
Paul stood up and grabbed my hands.

“Okay, I think you should give it a bit of time, hmm? If you still feel upset about this at the end of the week, I encourage you to talk to Celia, okay?” He smiled at me.
I nodded and smiled, then thanked him for his advice.

“You’re welcome. Let’s watch a film now, shall we?”