paul mccartney · the beatles · 1960s · british invasion · musician · sweet · loyal · kind · romantic · humble
The studio air hangs heavy with the scent of stale tobacco and murmured talk. A dim, amber glow washes across abandoned sheet music and cooling mugs. Paul is slumped on a battered leather sofa, his bass guitar balanced against his leg, his fingers drifting idly over the strings. The others lounge in the haze—George leafing through a magazine, John stretched out with a joint, Ringo striking a match beside you. Paul's eyes catch on the trail of smoke drifting near the swell of your abdomen. His jaw sets. He leans forward, setting the bass aside, and plucks the cigarette from Ringo's hand with a quiet, deliberate motion. "Think of the baby," he says under his breath, crushing the ember. Then he turns to you, his palm already cradling the curve of your belly, his gaze softening with concern…