After our confessions to each other, some sort of wall seemed to break between us.  We could see more of each other, and I certainly wanted to see all I could of him.  

He did too.  

"So have you any family?" he asked me.  

"My mom and dad work too hard, and my brother and sisters will have to too if I don't get them out of here.  Tommy and Ruth are so bright.  They deserve a college education."  Paul looked down at the ground.  Another car passed by, and I flinched when it lit up the room.  But unless people were looking for us, no one would pay attention.  

Paul rested a hand on my shoulder.  "It's alright.  Don't be afraid."  

"I'm not afraid." I lied.  Looking down at the old floorboards I asked him about his family.  

He smiled.  "My mother passed awhile ago now.  I miss her, but I know she's in a better place.  My dad and my brother still live back in Liverpool.  My brother loves photography and I reckon he'll make a living out of it one day."  I smiled at hearing him talk well about his family.  Most people I knew didn't want to talk about anything personal, whether they were ashamed of where they came from or their families were no-good.  

The Beatle looked over at me.  "Have you fancied anyone, love?"

"Fancied someone?"

"Pardon my English," he smirked, "have you ever liked someone more than a friend?  Found someone attractive?"

There were several times when I had found someone handsome, but that person never held that characteristic over me.  It never influnced me to do anything that they wanted.  

But Paul was a different story.  

I'm not sure if he knew then or not that I cared about him.  If he didn't, it would become evident fairly soon.  "I-I have, but it's not as if the feeling is going to take me anywhere."

"Why not?" he asked.  

"He doesn't know, and it would never work out." I looked towards the other side of the room, away from him.  However, Paul reached over and turned my face gently in his direction.  My heart seemed to stop and fall into my stomach.  But it still remained beating fast and scared.  

Paul leaned in and kissed me for a second time, but for once I let him.  Then, with a new forcefulness, he pushed me down on the cold floor and began to kiss my neck.  "Stop!" I yelped, pushing him off of me.  I sat up, feeling violated.  "You can't leave marks on me.  Someone could see them.  This is wrong...this is so wrong." I stood up, brushing off my skirt.  "You have to leave.  It's so late and dark enough that people won't see you."  

But he wouldn't follow me out.  "I want to see you again when you're not working.  But someplace besides this one.  Please?"

I sighed.  I don't know what made me give in that night.  Maybe it was his pretty pleading eyes, or that passionate kiss that I would have continue with had it not been the circumstances.  I told him to meet me there, but with a disguise.  

We had a date.

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 I was cleaning on the floor below that day, and I was a bit worried that I didn't see Paul.  But the bus ride seemed agonizingly long, and I was happy to find that Ruth was staying a friend's house, so I could ready without anyone knowing.  My best dress was one I wore to church, and it was blue with white polka-dots.  I always found it very pretty, and quite flattering, and a part of me hoped that Paul would notice.  And when my mother was relaxing in the living room, listening to the radio, I snuck into my parents' room and put on the tiniest amout of her perfume.  

There was a knock on my bedroom window, and I saw Paul's face peeking through.  I told him to stay there, and that I would be right out.  After creeping out the back door, I met him and said, "There's a place I know that's always packed with people.  It will be easy to hide."

"What is this place?"  

"A club.  They've got the best blues, swing and jazz music.  I've only been there once before, but we have to hurry before my mom finds out I've gone."  

So we hurried in the darkness to an old apartment building in our neighborhood.  Going down the stairs to the basement, I opened the door and we were greated with dim light but bright sound.  Even though it wasn't that late yet, the room was already packed with couples dancing.  "Oh my..." he said, ducking when someone looked in our direction.  "Love, if someone sees me...what will happen?" 

"I don't know." I admitted.  Some neighbors could be friendly enough towards white people, others were not as accepting.  

But Paul wasn't like the people who would try to harm us.  

We danced awkwardly for awhile as the band played some slow jazz, but then as they picked up the pace for two songs we jumped and swayed to the fast swing.  But then it was another slow song.  However, Paul reached out to me and placed his calloused hands on my waist, pulling me towards him.  With my back to his chest, we swayed as he kissed my cheek and down my neck.  "You smell so sweet." he whispered.  I blushed.  

"You look so wonderful, Paul." I said.  He smiled.  We were nose to nose.  "You look even better," he replied.  

He kissed me, a careful hand resting on my stomach, meanwhile the other was touching my chin.  I lifted a hand to touch his black hair, and he seemed to like that a lot.  He sighed into my lips, "Maura...oh, Maura.  My dear, I think I love you."  I was a bit stunned at that comment; I didn't know what to say.  Did I love him too?

But I didn't get a chance to answer.

Someone said, "What the hell is he doing in here?"  A man who looked a few years older than me grabbed Paul's shoulder.  "You stay away from her if you know what's good for you.  You're in our territory now and we can do what we want to a prissy little white boy like you."

"No!" I shouted, putting myself between them.  "He...he's not going to hurt us.  He's not going to report any of us.  It's alright."  

The man didn't seem convinced.  "No, it's not.  You both get your asses out of here before I-"

"That's enough!" A woman said.  The look she gave the man made him recoil.  Turning to Paul she said, "Now, it seems as though you've caused a bit of stir.  Say, you're that Beatle from the magazines?  You're creating quite a buzz.  All for integration?  Well, it might not do much, but it's a start."  Eyeing us both up, she asked, "You two make quite the couple.  It's progressive, and more people should be for it.  Have a nice night; young man, don't take the hate to heart."  I later found out that she was the owner.  

So after awhile we continued dancing, before we realized the time.  We hurried out and back to my house.  But I couldn't make him leave unless I kissed him.  We were in the middle of the sidewalk in front of our house, so I knew I had to make it quick.  I kissed him, but he held onto me so I couldn't break away.  He whispered, "Tonight was amazing.  We should do it again."  I agreed.  Tinier, shorter kisses soon followed, but then my father's voice boomed, "Maura, where were you!"  

And then he noticed Paul.  "Hey!" he marched toward us, and I stood in front of Paul, afraid he would hurt him.  "What is he doing here, Maura?" my dad hissed.  

"We....we were on a d-date, Dad."

Pulling me aside he glared at Paul.  "I don't want to see you kissing her ever again.  Your actions have clouded her mind.  She's a good girl, and she doesn't need a boy like you messing around with her emotions."

"Dad-" I pleaded with him.  

"Go to the house, Maura."  Turning back to Paul, he said, "Is this what you're making her do for money?  Is it?  Messing with my daughter's innocence?"

I tugged at my father's shoulder, trying to get to Paul.  "He's lying, Paul!  I wasn't doing this for money!  I really do care!"  It was true, but I was afraid Paul wouldn't believe it.  He looked hurt.  

"Sir, I'm sorry.  I know my place.  I know that I must go."  He sent me one last sad look before walking off into the night.  "Paul!" I cried out after him, but my father tugged me inside.  Once we were inside, he demanded to know what had happened.  "If I had known that he was going to make you please him, I wouldn't have let you go to work.  He shouldn't have to pressure you.  I refused to let you take money from him anymore!"  

Tears filled my eyes.  "I wasn't!  Dad...we were together.  I didn't want to tell you.  I-I think I might be in love with him.  He's so kind, Dad.  He doesn't care what I look like."

Dad's fists clenched in anger.  "It was people like him who put us here today, Maura!  Rich, selfish white men!  If he really cared, would he have just walked away?  They don't see us as real people; they think we're menaces to society.  He was just playing with your emotions.  He doesn't care!"  

"He does!  He said he loved me!"

I hoped he still did after what my father had said to him.  I had never felt heartbroken before, but if Paul forgot about me, I didn't know what I would do!

"Maura, why would someone like him ever love you!" Dad shouted.  

We both were silent before he began to speak again.  "Maura...I'm sorry.  I didn't mean to put it that way..."  I ran into my room and slammed the door, locking it.  He shouted from the other side for a few minutes before I heard him go into his room.  When all of the lights in the house went out, I crept into the living room and pulled the phone into my room.  Looking underneath the bed for the bundle of paper Paul gave me, I dialed his number.  

"Hello?" Paul's sleepy voice answered.  

"Paul?"

"Maura!" he sounded excited, but then began to get angry.  "You were using me to get money.  I thought that you...you..."

Quietly, I said, "I do love you, Paul.  I really do.  I never wanted any of your money; all I wanted was you.  My dad...I gave him the money you gave me.  He could use it more than I could, but he wanted more...I never meant to hurt you.  I never wanted to be a part of his scheme.  He's a good man, Paul...but he's scared for us."  'I put the reciever down for a moment, because I was choking on tears.  Why did all of this have to happen?  Why did I let my heart win?  Now I was in love with someone I could never have.  

But seeing him felt so wonderful.  

In a whispery tone, Paul said, "Please don't cry, love.  If you want, I could sneak over to your house.  I don't know if you want to run off again or just talk...but I would like to see you."  

Biting my lip, I said, "Come around to my bedroom window.  I'll turn the light on.  We have to be quiet.  I've locked my door and I have the key, but Dad would break it down if he knew you were here."

Paul swallowed hard on the other end of the line before saying, "I'll be there as soon as I can.  I-I love you, Maura." 

I smiled at his shyness.  "I love you too, Paul."

About an hour later, there was a tiny knock on my window.  I would have missed it if I hadn't been listening for it.  I opened the window to help him in.  However, he hit the floor rather loudly, and I winced, thinking my father would try to check on me.  But no one came.  

Paul took of his shoes, smirking because he knew I was watching him.  I decided that he looked best that way; he seemed more comfortable wearing casual clothes, like an old button-up and jeans.  "Sorry," he whispered, "I would have put on something nicer.  You're still in your dress, but I'm in street clothes."  

"No," I told him quietly, standing up to fix his uneven collar, "you look wonderful."  

He blushed.  "Thank you."  After a moment, he sat on my bed.  We looked out the window for awhile, before Paul scooted closer to me.  We made it a game.  Who could get the closest without the other person seeing?  Though, soon we were so close that I almost sitting on his right leg.  Embarrassing, I moved away, but he said it was alright.  

Still looking at me with those beautiful hazel eyes, he reached over and turned off my bedside lamp.  My eyes still hadn't adjusted to the darkness before I was hit with damp, soft lips.  

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When Paul turned the light back on, it had to be at least two in the morning.  I opened my eyes to find him looking me.  We were lying together on the bed, but in the wrong direction.  His feet were under my pillows.  

His shirt had been undone, his hair was messy and he smelled like perfume.  However, I smelled like his cologne and one of my sleeves had been pushed down.  After adjusting it, I laid back down next to him as he touched my hair.  I sighed softly.  

How could something be so dangerous if it was so nice?  

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OK so imagine Paul playing with your hair.  

Honestly, if someone does that, even if it's just my sister, it makes me feel so happy and relaxed.  I don't know how to explain it but if someone plays with my hair the feeling goes straight to my soul.

So...

Please vote and comment if you liked it or having something to say!

Peace and love, 

Luna <3