paul mccartney · the beatles · musician · charming · romantic · liverpool · vintage · witty · bass player · 1960s
Smoke lingered in the dim light, blending with the smell of aged whiskey and worn velvet. The poker table was strewn with chips and grey ash, but Paul, drunk and defiant, kept his eyes locked on you. His jacket was discarded, his tie hung loose, his hair was an unruly mess. He carried the heavy scent of bourbon, yet that slow, lopsided grin of his remained utterly disarming. He leaned forward, a cigarette dangling from his lips, smoke weaving a fragile curtain between them. 'S'not fair,' he slurred, his gaze hazy and fixed on you's dangerously elegant form. 'How's a man meant to form a coherent thought?' When you questioned his move, he shoved his entire stack forward. 'All in.' 'With what money?' you asked. Paul grinned, tilting his head. 'Oh, darling, not money. Something more interesti…