The Singer and the Bookworm | J.P.M

Chapter Ten

Later in the evening, Violet found herself knocking on the glass pane of John Lennon's front door to be greeted by his rather eccentric but agreeable aunt, who pointed her in the direction of the sitting room at the back of the house, where the faint sounds of music emanated. Menlove Avenue was just a short walk from Violet's house so it hadn't taken her long to reach the destination. As she headed in the direction she had been pointed in, she smoothed down the hem of her skirt self-consciously, and emerged into the rook to find five people strumming and singing away together.

Paul's eyes met her own and a smile split across both faces, but as soon as they broke eye contact, Violet felt an overwhelming sense of awkwardness.

Why would this even be a good idea?

Would she have to just sit here for God-knows-how-long now, looking like an idiot while they played their instruments?

Oh crap.

Just as her conscience got the better of her and she began to back towards the door, the unmistakable head of John Lennon turned towards her with a goofy grin.

"Who's this pretty bird then?" he cooed. Violet slitted her eyes at him.

"Lay off her, John," Paul muttered. "I invited her along."

"Oh, she's one of yours, is she, Paulie?" John deduced. At this remark, Violet tilted her head to the side.

"No, actually, I'm one of my own," she responded. John closed his mouth, still smiling at her. "Paul invited me. I can go, if you don't want me here."

"Don't be silly, the more, the merrier!" piped up the youngest of the group, George, shuffling across the sofa he was occupying and adjusting his grip on his guitar. "Sit down, if you want to. Unless you'd prefer to sit with Paul."

Violet eyed the pouffe Paul was perched on. If she sat on there with him she would have to sit on his lap and, while this wouldn't provide her with a complaint, it would make it awfully uncomfortable for him to reach his guitar. She offered Paul a grin and took a seat beside George.

The latter then leaned forwards and grabbed a handful of peanuts from the coffee table, stuffing them all into his mouth simultaneously before returning to his guitar to strum effortlessly at some scales.

"So, boys, what do we want to work on now?" John leaned his head over his shoulder to check where his aunt was before lighting a cigarette and bringing it to his lips.

"We really need to go over 'Love Me Do' again," Paul said. Violet's heart melted at the sound of his voice. "It's still not ready for the show tomorrow."

They went over the suggested song, and to Violet it sounded perfect — the drummer who was using the corner of the coffee table to keep a beat wasn't a patch on her Richie, though, and she could tell that the attractive guitarist, Stuart, wanted nothing less than to be there. Despite that, the band were extremely good, and no she wasn't just saying that because Paul was a member.

Not entirely, anyway.

After an hour of practice, of them strumming away at various songs most of which rung familiar with Violet and smoking about a ton of cigarettes, Paul leaned over to John and slipped a sheet of paper into his hand. At first John looked confused, but after a moment he gave a nod and smoothed out the paper on the coffee table, beginning to play whatever sequence was scrawled on the page.

Paul's bass guitar overlapped John's playing, while the former hummed a tune. After a while, he began to sing.

"I, I saw a girl in my dream,

And so it seems

That I will love her."

He cleared his throat towards the end and stopped playing, ceasing the rest of the band. His voice had sounded so captivating.

"It's still a little rough around the edges," he input, but Violet could tell from the slight tint to his cheeks and the soft smile playing at his mouth that he was proud of his song. "Hopefully it'll be done by the Christmas Eve performance tomorrow."

***

George, Pete and Stu eventually left together, and Violet was making her way towards the front door to leave when Paul approached her with a smile on his face.

"How was that, love?" he asked.

"It was alright," Violet said, trying to mask the smile threatening to emerge onto her face. "Could do with a little more work here and there, but you know."

Paul laughed and gave her a playful tap on the arm, to which she giggled. "I'm kidding, Paul, you guys are so great," she admitted. "Well, I'll be off I think. My house is just a short walk away."

"Can I walk with you?" he asked.

"It's so cold out, Paul," Violet responded. "I wouldn't want you to catch a chill."

"It would be worth it for you." He put on a teasing voice and an exaggerated smirk, causing Violet to stamp a foot lightly to try and play off her blush.

"Fine, then," she stated firmly. "It's your own fault if you're ill for your show, and everyone laughs at you. Me included."

"Wow, okay," he retaliated, but proceeded to hold the front door open for Violet as she pulled on her coat and exited the hallway.

***

2.7K reads?!?! whaaaaa

hello my beatlemaniac best friends!! it's been three months since i last updated this fanfic and in that time i've gained 1.7k reads, which is honestly so amazing - thank you all so much 💗 i promise i'm going to be updating regularly from now on because i'm so inspired for the fic and i really want to conclude Paul and Violet's story.

thank you all so much for everything! ilysm