Imagine... The Beatles (Book Two)

Growing Pains

Paul Imagine :||

  You laid in the bathtub breathing in the fumes of your lavender scented candles, a glass of strawberry champagne in your hand. You had a record going on, and you sighed as you let yourself sink deeper into the bath. Your eyes closed in complete bliss, you let the warm water submerge you. You sat the glass of champagne on the edge of the tub, and finally let yourself become one with the peace.
   "Y/N!" came a shout and a slam of a door. You groaned. Paul was home, back from a long day of recording in the studio and he'd be wanting dinner. There was nothing you could do but be honest, you lost track of time. You grabbed your towel and wrapped it around your body.
  "In the bathroom, Paul!" you shouted. "I'll be right out!"
  You opened the bathroom door, and there stood Paul smiling. You smiled back, and brushed past him.
  "Where are you going?" Paul questioned, walking with you. You walked into your bedroom, and threw your towel off and started searching for some clothes. Paul smirked from behind you, closing the bedroom door as he went downstairs.

"What would you like for dinner, Paul?" you asked your husband. He shrugged from the couch. You walked to the couch and turned off the television.
  "Paul, what would you like for dinner?" you asked.
Paul groaned in annoyance. "I don't know, why don't you just cook something?"
    You glared, "Roast beef?"
"We had that two nights ago."
    "Paul, that's why I asked you what you wanted. So you wouldn't complain when I made suggestions."
Paul huffed, stood from the couch, and grabbed his coat from off the love seat.
  "And where are you going now, Paul McCartney?"
"To John's, he doesn't have an annoying wife." he retorted as he walked out the front door. You gasped.
   Pain, that's what you felt. But the pain turned to anger. If that's how he was going to be, then so be it.

  You awoke to a shift in the bed, Paul had laid down. He put his arm around you, but you brushed it off. Paul went to try again, but again you brushed him off.
   "What's the matter?" Paul sat up.
  "Oh, just you called me your annoying wife. I'm going to sleep on the couch, wouldn't want to annoy you." You huffed, grabbing your pillow. Paul grabbed your arm.
  "Y/N, you don't think I meant that..."
"Of course I do. Paul, you don't tell your wife she's annoying."
  "I'm sorry, Y/N."
"Yeah, we'll see." You pulled your arm from his hand and went to the couch.

End of part 1/2.

Well guys, I'm going to see Paul McCartney July 17th! So here's a P.M. Imagine for ya! Dedicated to beatleism SmilingDiana Liveuptoyourdreams21 and hxrrison ! I loves you all!