|6|
/\ June 4, 1961 /\
/\ Saturday, 9:30 pm /\
Song: Open Arms
By: Journey
"The names Paul,"
The buoyant lad paused, his nimble hand deftly reaching out for me to shake.
"Paul McCartney."
A diminutive beam parted my lips, thankful to finally perceive the blokes name. I extended my dainty fingers, our palms clasping onto each other with a benevolent shake.
Just the touch of his velvety fingers interlacing with mine sent a sense of thrill through my body. His grip was tender, considerate, but also firm, as if he desired to never let go.
We both stood there for quite some time, our hands never parting. The natural serenity of Paul's presence returned, wishing he would once again pull me in for another cozy, consoling embrace.
I discontentedly shoved the silly feelings to the back of my mind, continuing our conversation.
"Jordyn Quinn."
A smile approached his full, almost feminine lips, not once glancing away with the eyes that where the true cause of my trauma.
"Jordyn, what a beautiful name."
I giggled, rolling my eyes at the compliment the boy attempted to swoon me with, failing miserably.
"I bet ye tell that to every girl you meet."
Paul gained a cheeky, playful mien, prompting me of how alluring the lad was. Whenever I transpired to peek at him, his eyes captivated me in their almost seductive gaze, luring me into their pools of greens and browns to drown.
My insubstantial digits implored to intertwine through his coffee hued locks, yearning to discern how silky each wispy filament would be through my fingertips.
His lips. Oh, his lips. How I coveted to perceive Paul's brimful lips on mine. The idea of his thumb clemently caressing my cheek, the base of his lip grazing over the margin of my own, beseeching for entry.
I'd do anything for that.
My train of thought was adjourned by Paul's enthralling voice, which I didn't mind.
"No, just ye."
He had reposted to my utterance from earlier, which I had nearly omitted from my thoughts.
It just didn't comprehend with me.
How was Paul beguiling me like this? His subtle winks jerked my breath, the touch of his hand summered my heart. I was usually never this mesmerized by a man, my parents edified me better.
But, he was different.
"Oh, don't flatter me Mr.McCartney, I bet I'm not that much of a sight to see."
I slipped a pesky flyaway behind the stern of my ear, my perspective cascading from his hazel hues to my pair of Mary Janes.
The touch of his cordial finger unwinded beneath the foot of my chin, hefting my gaze from the floor to Paul's winsome peepers.
"Please don't look down. I can't stand glancing away from yer beautiful silver eyes."
I sensed warmth swathe its ardent, amorous arms around my cheeks, bewildered from the stupor plight it put me in.
When recollecting my whereabouts I recalled something, causing the vehement twinkle in my eyes to wilt.
"Is that the color of me eyes? Silver?"
Paul's brows corrugated into a bemused, flummoxed frown.
"Pardon?"
I proclaimed my inquiry once again.
"My eyes, they're silver?"
The baffled dissemination on his charming bairn face never left, now munching the disinclined husk on his lower lip.
"Why yes...I'm sorry for asking miss but, shouldn't you already know that?"
I began to leniently gnaw at the interior of my cheek, chagrined at the blemish I'd been propelled to acclimate to for my whole life.
"Well I should've already known but, I didn't."
The mystified regard Paul once had mitigated, helping me alleviate the abashing discern of divulging my inadequacy to him.
"Why not?"
I kneaded the back of my neck, once again cramming the irking thread of hair behind the source of my hearing, composing myself for whatever counter Paul would have.
"I'm colorblind."
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AN//: So I'm starting school tomorrow (help me pls) and updates may be a bit slow depending on how the next couple of weeks are gonna go, but I'm going to try and keep my updates around every couple of days like I have been. I just wanted to apologize in advance if I don't update on my usual schedule. Thank youuuu. ❤️
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