An Arranged Match // Paul McCartney

=>You've Got to Hide Your Love Away<=

Kathy and John were starting to get along real well. The two were almost inseperable. They were presently on the kitchen, since Kathy was the one on dinner duty.

Paul, however, just slumped on the stool in the dining room. As he watched the two giggle numerous times, something in his stomach churned and he cocked an eyebrow at them.

"A few days ago, they loathed each other. Suddenly they're besties?!", he murmured in frustration. Paul heard Kathy's sweet chuckle again, and that popped his last nerve.

"Ugh, what the heck!", he remarked, throwing his hands up in the air, catching the pair's attention. He left the room and made his way to the couch.

"What's up with him?", Kathy asked. John just smiled mischievously.

"You're really innocent, aren't you?", he remarked. Kathy just raised an eyebrow.

"What the heck are you talking about, Lennon?", she asked him, facing him completely. John shook his head and smirked.

"No. I won't tell you.", he teased. Kathy whined. "C'mon now! Don't be a buzzkill!", she pleaded.

John just laughed at her silliness, which he also found cute. He didn't know why his impression on Kathy changed.

"I would tell you if you go upstairs and get my guitar for me.", he commented, giving her a smug grin. Kathy rolled her eyes.

"What am I, your bloody servant?", she asked proudly, crossing her arms.

"Okay then. No guitar, no tell.", John replied. He was about to stand up when a small hand grabbed his arm.

"Alright, I'll get it. Jerk.", she murmured. John smiled and sat back down on the couch, putting his hands behind his head.

"Thanks, sweetie!", he yelled as she ascended the stairs. " 'Sweetie' yourself, you swine!", a voice cried out, to which he snickered at.

"Where's your guitar, anyway?", she called out. "In yours' and Macca's room. Go get it.", he answered.

She stopped in her tracks at the mention of his name. Something was off with them since things were clearing up between her and John. She didn't know what was going on with Paul.

As Kathy stopped in front of the room they shared, she hesitated. Should she knock? Or just barge in since they are living together?

She chose to be decent and knock.

"What?", a deep voice asked from behind the door. Kathy somehow got chills upon hearing him.

"What the heck?", she muttered to herself, as she watched the hairs on her arm stand up at his voice. What was going on with her, as well?

"Um, yeah, it's me. May I come in?", she asked. The door immediately swung open, revealing the tall man dressed in a simple white t-shirt, denim pants and was barefoot.

"Why?", he asked curiously, staring down at her. She met his gaze and almost forgot what to say.

"I need to talk to you.", she managed to tell him. They just stayed there, staring at each other, until Paul finally came to his senses and let her in.

She made her way towards the bed, and sat. Paul followed her and sat beside her, at a reasonable distance.

There was awkward silence between them. Kathy's eyes wandered around the room, while Paul was staring at nowhere.

"What were you gonna talk to me about?", he finally asked. Kathy snapped back into reality and met his gaze.

"Well, um-", she started. Paul looked at her in a way that said 'go on'.

"Why are you acting like this?"

"Acting like what?"

"Acting like a woman on her period.", she asked him. Paul cocked an eyebrow at her.

"I mean, you're always being sassy, whether it's to me or to your best friend. What's up your ass?", she asked, raising her voice a little. Kathy was pissed at the way Paul always seemed irritated when John was around her.

"I'm not being sassy. I just...", he trailed off, tearing his gaze off her.

"You what, Paul?"

He looked at her again, opening his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, he bore his eyes into her own, as if he wanted to say something.

"Spit it out, McCartney!", she exclaimed.

"I don't like you hanging out with John, alright?", he replied. Kathy's eyes widened.

"Why not? One moment you want us to make up. When we do, you want us to break apart again? What the hell!", she remarked, her voice getting angrier.

"Because I get jealous, okay! Bloody hell!", he finally spoke up, running his hands through his dark brown locks. That made Kathy stop yelling and watch the boy infront of her intently.

"What did you just say?"