24.

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24th April, 1963

The next day at work felt like an eternity for Paul. Especially since the night before he had almost zero hours of sleep, not being able to stop thinking about John.

And the fact he had to sleep next to Jane after what he'd done made the guilt spiral to another level.

He wanted to go back to John and talk to him about it all desperately, but the thought that the other man would most likely say it was just a mistake hurt him. Even though he knew he shouldn't feel like that, the thought of John telling him those words was something Paul knew he wouldn't be able to handle.

In a way he was glad when he arrived at work, it meant that he could distract himself and didn't think too much about the day before.

John Lennon.

"Hey, Paul. You alright buddy?" A work friend of his, Chris, whispered to him.

Paul jumped out of his thoughts at the sound of the man's voice. When he looked around again, he remembered that he was in the middle of watching over his class in their weekly assembly.

"Yeah... Just got no sleep 's all." Chris nodded. "Do you uh... Do you know what time it is?" The man asked, flicking his fringe out of his eyes.

"Yeah... Just gone twenty to twelve."

"Oh Christ." He cursed, bringing his hand up to his face.

"I know. But it's lunch anyway in like ten minutes, just hang on buddy." Chris reassured him, patting the man in the shoulder.

Paul nodded, standing up straight once again, beginning to stare at the headteacher standing at the front of the hall.

If he was asked what the man was saying, he wouldn't be able to remember. The truth was, Paul wasn't paying any attention at all, and in no time his mind managed to fall back onto the topic of John.

He remembered when the four of them (Paul, Ringo, George and John) would all be sat in the same assembly hall when they were young again. As soon as the assembly was over and the lunch bell rang, they would meet up and head straight for either the boys bathrooms or the space imbetween the rubbish bins and the trees, and smoke.

'"I wish it could be like that again."

"It can, John. It can..."

John took a deep breath, eyes locking with Paul's.'

And Paul wished so badly it could himself, so much that he himself would happily go back in time. If it meant being careless again, and able to just get high whenever he wanted. And seeing George and Ringo everyday.

And John.

He felt his chest tighten at the need.

He needed to go back to those days. He needed to.

"C-Chris?" Paul whispered to the man next to him.

"Yeah mate?"

"Can you dismiss my class, please? I just need... Need some fresh air."

"Course mate." As soon as the other man said those words, Paul sped out of the hall.

He made is way through the school corridors, his chest feeling like it was tightening more and more every time he breathed in.

When the door leading to the outside teacher smoking area was in his vision, he began to run to reach it. His feet carrying him.

He threw it open, clutching his chest with his heart as he practically jumped underneath the staff smoking shelter. The man lit a cigarette, his hand shaking as he brought it to his lips. When the tears began to slowly fall, he just let them, falling to the ground.

He loved John so much, and Julian, but he never thought he'd love him like that. They were best friends, and they always had been. But when he kissed John back, he felt like he needed it. And when it happened, it was like he'd waited years for it.

Some of the best memories of his life had happened when he was with John, and now he wanted nothing more than to make new ones.

But could he ever be with John?

What if John had only kissed him because he missed Cynthia? If the kiss meant nothing to John, which was likely, then Paul didn't know what he was going to do.

"Jane, Paul... You should love Jane." He scolded himself, taking another drag of his cigarette.

He felt so stupid... So lost.

But he couldn't tell anyone about it, because if he did, who knows what could happen? He could end up in jail...

"Oh fuck..."

The school bell called out, making Paul groan and lean his head back on the glass of the shelter, tapping the cigarette on the ash tray he'd grabbed as he threw himself on the ground beneath him before.

What was John Winston Lennon doing to him?

He just waited for Chris or someone else to come and find him, trying to think of an excuse for why he was crying.

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