❝ let me roll it ❞ ▷ paul mccartney.

.06

it was late. the hour hand had just brushed against midnight by the time paul had arrived home from yet another long, riling rehearsal. if it could even be called that. john had been nagging at george for the majority of the time, griping on and on about a few dull chords that he had discovered whilst playing a certain song. paul couldn't remember what song, respectively, but he knew he certainly had quite the headache just around his right temple from it all.

however, he had other, more intriguing things on his mind.

it didn't take long for paul to realize jane had gone to sleep already; of course, he would expect her to be since it was the middle of the night. he wasn't tired, though. in fact, it was rare that he felt anything other than the occasional high he would administer upon himself in his times of dire creative need, which were beginning to seem more and more frequent, he had observed lately. not surprisingly, the bloke wasn't too concerned about his habitual use of marijuana – and saw no issue with using it at all, yet he still found the need to sneak around whilst using it or being under the influence of it. he knew jane wouldn't approve of such a thing being done right under her perky, little nose, but that is exactly why he continued to do it in such a manner.

     after quietly changing into a pair of pajama pants, the coziest that he owned, and a plain white t-shirt, he slipped on his robe and left the room as swiftly as he could without waking jane; who he didn't even stop to look at once as he changed. the truth was, he felt a bit guilty for still being with her, but he knew that breaking things off with her would only cause more problems that he could prevent by simply grinning through it all. it wasn't too hard for him to do, so, he put his acting skills to good use for the majority of the time he spent with the ginger and didn't think twice about it.

     paul wandered back down the steps and into the kitchen, his hand blinding searching for the light switch until his index finger finally found it and flicked the lights on. he hummed softly to himself as he started for the kettle on the stove, filling it up with enough water to make him two cups of tea before he turned to grab a roll that jane must've had out for dinner earlier in the evening; since she was expecting a nice dinner with paul, after all. however, just as he was walking past the table, he paused as he saw a few letters lying on the wooden surface. he sighed, picked them up, and began quickly sifting through the handful as he made his way toward the trash bin to throw them out since he couldn't possibly care less about the letters that his future in-laws were sending him.

but something stopped him.
it was sweet.
or was it... warm?

both?

     the faint scent snuck up and tickled his nose hairs; making him pause in his tracks as he eyed the envelope with slightly furrowed brows. the stamp on the corner was one he wasn't all too familiar with, but he knew it was from the states for obvious reasons.

     he tossed all of the other letters that lost all of his attention and he sat down at the kitchen table, his eyes never leaving the envelope held in his hands. he took a moment to carefully open it, since the scent and even the envelope's texture were both so disarming to him. he couldn't help himself but to be gentle while opening it. it was almost as if something had taken over him entirely, but he didn't question a single thing.

it didn't register to paul that he was holding the response to a letter he had sent already until he pulled the paper from its holder in the envelope and unfolded it, a small photograph slipping from it and upright onto the table. the scent was stronger by then, and he had already subconsciously labeled it as his favorite scent of all. of course, at that very moment, however – he was too focused on the girl in the photograph. unknowingly, his breath had hitched as his hazel hues took in every little detail in what felt like milliseconds.

how could someone be so beautiful?

     the thought seemed to echo in his head, which, physically, was tilted to the side; something he tended to do when he found a great interest in something. a moment later, he finally managed to bring himself out of his daze for the time being and he slid the photograph to the side after giving it one more glance. he then brought his focus to the actual letter, which he concluded was the source for the delightful scent he had the pleasure of indulging in for the past moments he had grabbed the envelope. his eyes scanned over every word as he read along under his breath, a few, soft chuckles leaving him at the diction this girl seemed to have.

     once he had finished reading over it about two times, he then picked up the photograph again; holding it between his fingertips as he practically bored his eyes into the emerald green ones of her own. it wasn't long before he found himself daydreaming about how her voice may sound, how deep her dimples really were, and if the perfume she had sprayed on the letter was one that she wore regularly.

      what brought him out of his state of imagination, finally, was the squealing of the kettle boiling. he jumped, slightly, and he tucked the photograph back into the letter before he folded it up and he got up and made his way over to the stove to tame the howling of the steam. he made himself a cup of tea and then sat back down; his fingertips tapping along the porcelain mug as he blankly stared at the letter and the corner of the photograph that was peeking out. he felt almost compelled to it, as if an instant attachment to this so-called victoria had just been made.

     he wasn't quite sure what he felt, but he knew that his headache was still as blatant as ever and that a spot of tea would help soothe even the toughest of his pains.

     however, he wasn't quite sure if it would calm his sudden anticipation to reply as quickly as possible to victoria wilson. he had already thought of a response to her letter, but he would have to wait.

his favorite pen was on jane's bedside table, and he just didn't feel like moving just yet.