Just Like Starting Over Part 10 (Return!)
Title: Just Like Starting Over (10/?)
Author(s): hippie_chick69
Pairing: John/Paul
Time Period: 1980
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language, upset Johnny, eating disorder
Word count: 913
Summary: John invites Paul to stay with him and Sean in Bermuda for two weeks and during his stay, Paul notices a drastic change in John's weight and eating habits.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the story line.
A/N: After a lot of comments on my last story of people wanting me to continue this, I've decided to bring it back. If you need a recap I had all the previous chapters down below. Sorry for the hiatus of this story.
Chapters 1-9
“Hey John?”
“Mm?” I mumbled over my guitar to Paul who was sitting across from me on our bed, helping me with the writing of “Beautiful Boy”. His feet were touching my own intimately, and he was looking up at me with worried eyes.
He sighed deeply before speaking, “Are you okay? I mean health wise? You know you can tell me if-”
I stopped him from going any further, “What the fuck do you mean am I okay health wise? I feel bloody fine, Paul.”
I can tell I caught him off guard with my answer and quickly mumbled an apology, I knew he was just concerned about me for some reason. He scooted close to me and embraced me in a hug, “I love you, John. You can tell me anything or do anything, and I’ll always love you.”
I pulled away from his hug and flashed him a confused expression, “Um okay? I love you too, Paul.” I knew he was about to ask me something big, because like always he started by telling me how much he loves me.
“I just-I’m worried about you, although I’m sure you can tell. Is your-well, your weight. I’m worried about your weight and eating habits recently, what’s going on with that?”
I immediately froze, thinking back to that day years ago during one of the Beatles tours. A reporter referred to me as the fat Beatle, and although I wouldn’t admit it at the time, it was the worst thing anyone had ever said to me at that point and it really hurt and had haunted me ever since. “Fuck you Paul,” I whispered harshly as I quickly made my way out of the bedroom. Paul calling me fat was the last thing I would have ever expected him to call me.
He leapt off the bed and stopped me before I opened the door however, “John, no! It’s not what you think I meant. I’m not calling you fat, you’re far from that.”
“Then why the fuck did you say something about my weight?” I snapped back.
He pulled me closer to him by my waist and looked me in the eyes very seriously, “You’re really thin, John. I-what if you have an eating disorder? I mean, the macrobiotic diet is obviously not very healt-”
“You have no bloody right to tell me what’s healthy or not, Paul. I’m absolutely fine, yes I’ve lost a few pounds but I feel fantastic and healthier then I’ve ever been. I don’t have a freaking eating disorder; do I look like a bird to you? It’s my eating habits, and not yours so stay out of it. I appreciate your concern but I’m fine.”
I threw myself back onto the bed and picked up my guitar, playing a few chords. “I love you, and you love me. You’re my partner, I think I have a right to weigh in on your eating habits,” Paul whispered in my ear, while stroking my back lovingly. I looked down at my feet and said nothing. “I’m sorry, okay? I won’t mention it again.” He looked almost disappointed when he said this.
“I-It’s okay,” I said softly trying to force back tears.
He lifted up my chin to look into my eyes, “It’s okay if you want to cry.”
I quickly turned my head as a tear made its way down cheek, “’m not crying. Just my eyes watering.” I whipped them away quickly and tried to pull away but Paul pulled me into a tight embrace.
“That book I got, John. It really wasn’t just because I was bored one day; I got it because I’ve been worried about you. I know you don’t want to believe this, but you’ve got a lot of the signs John,” he whispered softly into my ear as I broke down. I didn’t want to admit, but I had a feeling Paul was on to something with that book.
After a while I finally calmed down enough to say something, “I’m afraid, Paul.”
“Of what?”
“Of losing Yoko, of being alone. I-who’s going to take care of me? I don’t want to sound pathetic but it’s true. I’ve always had someone there for me whether it’s been Mimi, you, Cynthia, May, or Yoko. A-Am I not just cut out to be a good husband or something?”
He moved me out of his arms gently and look into my eyes seriously, “John, no. You’re a fantastic husband. Yeah, you treated Cyn like shit but let’s face it, you both knew it wasn’t meant to be. For the last decade or so you’ve treated Yoko like a fucking saint, and she’s the one who’s treated you like shit and you don’t deserve that. You’re beautiful, and funny and a million other things and if she can’t see that then she’s just plain mental. And you’ll always have me to take care of you.”
“Yeah right Paul, you have Linda and your kids to take care of now. You don’t need another baby.”
“It’s not about them John. This is about me loving you since I first met you at that stupid festival back in Liverpool. Whatever happens, I’m always going to love and take care of you,” I collapsed back into Paul’s hug, letting out sobs of relief and more worry.
“Everything’s going to be alright, love,” he whispered comfortingly to me as he rubbed my back.
Author(s): hippie_chick69
Pairing: John/Paul
Time Period: 1980
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language, upset Johnny, eating disorder
Word count: 913
Summary: John invites Paul to stay with him and Sean in Bermuda for two weeks and during his stay, Paul notices a drastic change in John's weight and eating habits.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the story line.
A/N: After a lot of comments on my last story of people wanting me to continue this, I've decided to bring it back. If you need a recap I had all the previous chapters down below. Sorry for the hiatus of this story.
Chapters 1-9
“Hey John?”
“Mm?” I mumbled over my guitar to Paul who was sitting across from me on our bed, helping me with the writing of “Beautiful Boy”. His feet were touching my own intimately, and he was looking up at me with worried eyes.
He sighed deeply before speaking, “Are you okay? I mean health wise? You know you can tell me if-”
I stopped him from going any further, “What the fuck do you mean am I okay health wise? I feel bloody fine, Paul.”
I can tell I caught him off guard with my answer and quickly mumbled an apology, I knew he was just concerned about me for some reason. He scooted close to me and embraced me in a hug, “I love you, John. You can tell me anything or do anything, and I’ll always love you.”
I pulled away from his hug and flashed him a confused expression, “Um okay? I love you too, Paul.” I knew he was about to ask me something big, because like always he started by telling me how much he loves me.
“I just-I’m worried about you, although I’m sure you can tell. Is your-well, your weight. I’m worried about your weight and eating habits recently, what’s going on with that?”
I immediately froze, thinking back to that day years ago during one of the Beatles tours. A reporter referred to me as the fat Beatle, and although I wouldn’t admit it at the time, it was the worst thing anyone had ever said to me at that point and it really hurt and had haunted me ever since. “Fuck you Paul,” I whispered harshly as I quickly made my way out of the bedroom. Paul calling me fat was the last thing I would have ever expected him to call me.
He leapt off the bed and stopped me before I opened the door however, “John, no! It’s not what you think I meant. I’m not calling you fat, you’re far from that.”
“Then why the fuck did you say something about my weight?” I snapped back.
He pulled me closer to him by my waist and looked me in the eyes very seriously, “You’re really thin, John. I-what if you have an eating disorder? I mean, the macrobiotic diet is obviously not very healt-”
“You have no bloody right to tell me what’s healthy or not, Paul. I’m absolutely fine, yes I’ve lost a few pounds but I feel fantastic and healthier then I’ve ever been. I don’t have a freaking eating disorder; do I look like a bird to you? It’s my eating habits, and not yours so stay out of it. I appreciate your concern but I’m fine.”
I threw myself back onto the bed and picked up my guitar, playing a few chords. “I love you, and you love me. You’re my partner, I think I have a right to weigh in on your eating habits,” Paul whispered in my ear, while stroking my back lovingly. I looked down at my feet and said nothing. “I’m sorry, okay? I won’t mention it again.” He looked almost disappointed when he said this.
“I-It’s okay,” I said softly trying to force back tears.
He lifted up my chin to look into my eyes, “It’s okay if you want to cry.”
I quickly turned my head as a tear made its way down cheek, “’m not crying. Just my eyes watering.” I whipped them away quickly and tried to pull away but Paul pulled me into a tight embrace.
“That book I got, John. It really wasn’t just because I was bored one day; I got it because I’ve been worried about you. I know you don’t want to believe this, but you’ve got a lot of the signs John,” he whispered softly into my ear as I broke down. I didn’t want to admit, but I had a feeling Paul was on to something with that book.
After a while I finally calmed down enough to say something, “I’m afraid, Paul.”
“Of what?”
“Of losing Yoko, of being alone. I-who’s going to take care of me? I don’t want to sound pathetic but it’s true. I’ve always had someone there for me whether it’s been Mimi, you, Cynthia, May, or Yoko. A-Am I not just cut out to be a good husband or something?”
He moved me out of his arms gently and look into my eyes seriously, “John, no. You’re a fantastic husband. Yeah, you treated Cyn like shit but let’s face it, you both knew it wasn’t meant to be. For the last decade or so you’ve treated Yoko like a fucking saint, and she’s the one who’s treated you like shit and you don’t deserve that. You’re beautiful, and funny and a million other things and if she can’t see that then she’s just plain mental. And you’ll always have me to take care of you.”
“Yeah right Paul, you have Linda and your kids to take care of now. You don’t need another baby.”
“It’s not about them John. This is about me loving you since I first met you at that stupid festival back in Liverpool. Whatever happens, I’m always going to love and take care of you,” I collapsed back into Paul’s hug, letting out sobs of relief and more worry.
“Everything’s going to be alright, love,” he whispered comfortingly to me as he rubbed my back.