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Description
John Lennon P.O.V

Now I'm engaged with the man that drives me crazy. Our engagement rings are thin and made of silver, with the date July 6 scripted.
But there's one slight problem: my fiancée is crying curled against me at the side of our bed, and my heart aches at an indescribable way, of seeing my love carrying such pain and sorrow.
That's what happens when you're so naïve, and get blind by the love and happiness you have; like if the rest of the world agreed to spoil our plans.
This early morning, we woke up determined to go to a court and ask all the requirements for getting married. We didn't know anything about what do you need for marrying legally; a birth certificate, I suppose.
What was wrong with asking? I really don't know. Last thing I remember is us being yelled at a court and accused of sinners and law-breakers, "Men don't marry each other, that's impossible and goes against the law. You could get sued for what you've asked, and should be thankful I won't tell anyone. Didn't you know that's forbidden? I assume with the luxury life you have, you think you can do everything and there are no limits; how wrong you are. Because you're famous you think you two can decide what is wrong and what is right? You make God cry. The Devil is waiting for you in hell; you should be ashamed of yourselves. Now do me a big favor get out."

I've never seen Paul so hurt and weak. I just wanted to punch that man in the face, but I just couldn't. What happens when you hit a lawyer? You go to jail? It was something I didn't want to find out.
Maybe it was my fault for living in my own world and not viewing what happens in the real one.
The road home was quiet, as none of us found any appropriate words to say to each other. The euphoria and rejoicing of an hour ago vanished creating a melt of the most unpleasant feelings.
But there had to be another way. This man, sobbing in my shoulder under the covers at a side of our bed, is the one who owns my heart, and I swear I'll make him smile again. I'm going to marry James Paul McCartney, whether the fucking law wants it or not.

"We don't need the law, the Church's or anyone's approval. What's more important than our love to get married? For me, that's the only requirement. I want to marry you, and nothing's going to stop me for doing it." I whispered into Paul's ear.

He quickly removed the sobs that were left in his angelical face, and decided, "Let's marry ourselves in the apartment. I want to marry you today."

It pleased me more than anything to watch how rapidly his mood changed.

Our pair of engagement rings sparkled in the early morning sunlight. I reached over and took them both off of the nightstand and wiggled mine onto my ring finger. It looked so right on me, like it was meant to be there.

Gently, I plucked Paul's left hand out from under the blankets and slid his on as well. He looked up to me and smiled; no sign of tears anymore.

"I love you, John," he said. "A whole fucking lot."

I brushed his dark hair from his forehead and pecked him softly. "I love you more, Macca."

"I'll get some flowers from the florist, and you can go find the Bible for vows."

"Alright, but while you're out, could you pick up some wine or something? We need to celebrate!" I proclaimed as I threw the covers off of the two of us.

At ten minutes after eleven o'clock, I stood back to admire my handiwork. The living room was draped in all the clean quilts and blankets I could find to create a covered alter. Vases of flowers dotted the tables and petals were sprinkled on the floor. Colorful candles lead up the aisle and glowed beautifully, making the room seem both peaceful and romantic. On a pillow, sat our two rings; our engagement rings that were ready to finally become wedding bands. I polished the set until I could see my reflection.

I heard the oven door shut in the kitchen, the smell of sweet cake wafted to my nostrils. Paul was on food duty, and had baked a modest wedding cake to enjoy after our ceremony along with a bottle of champagne and a spread of surprises.

"Are you ready, Paul?" I shouted to my fiancée, anxiety bubbling inside of me.

"In a minute, John! I've got to put the cake down!" Paul yelled. I could hear him rustling around in the other room. "Unless you want to eat popcorn as our wedding dinner then I suggest you to shut up!"
A few minutes later he appeared in the doorway. Dressed in a full tuxedo, my fiancée never looked more handsome. His eyes widened and he grinned as he took in the sight. I motioned him to come over, for I was waiting at our 'alter' already.

Paul laughed and started prancing towards me, his eyes wide and full of excitement.

"Here comes the bride…" I sang slowly, teasing him.

He stopped midway and raised his eyebrow. "I am not a fucking girl, nor do I plan on ever being one."

I stuck out my tongue, and changed the lyrics to the song. "Here comes the other groom…"

"Much better." Paul chuckled. "I'm glad you recognize I am indeed a lad."

"I would hope that I would've." I shot back playfully. "Now come on, I want to get married!"

Finally, he reached me in front of the windows. Paul squeezed my hand and picked up a piece of paper from the nearest table. On it were our vows, and I watched as he read them over carefully.
Tears were already forming in my eyes and I could see the same happening to him.

Paul looked me in the eyes, full of love.

"I, James Paul McCartney take thee, John Winston Lennon, to be my unlawfully wedded husband, secure in the knowledge that you will be my constant friend, my faithful partner in life, and my one true love. On this special day, I give to you in the presence of God and these nonexistent witnesses my pledge to stay by your side as your faithful husband in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, as well as through the good times and the bad." Paul recited, his eyes filling with tears with each soulful word.

"I promise to love you without reservation, comfort you in times of distress, encourage you to achieve all of your goals, laugh with you and cry with you, grow with you in mind and spirit, always be open and honest with you, and cherish you for as long as we both shall live."

Now, it was my turn. Gently, I squeezed my soon-to-be-husband's hand and looked deep into his eyes.

"I, John Winston Lennon, take thee, James Paul McCartney to be my unlawfully wedded husband, secure in the knowledge that you will be my constant friend, my faithful partner in life, and my one true love. On this special day, I give to you in the presence of God and these nonexistent witnesses my pledge to stay by your side as your faithful husband in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, as well as through the good times and the bad." My heart swelled for the enormous amount of love I had for this man.

"I promise to love you without reservation, honor and respect you, provide for your needs as best as I can, protect you from harm, comfort you in times of distress, grow up with you in mind and spirit, always be open and honest with you, and cherish you for as long as we both shall live."

Paul reached over to the velvet pillow and cautiously plucked my ring off. He took my left in his and slid the band on. "John Winston Lennon, accept this ring as a token of my love."

I nodded and whispered "I will."

He smiled hugely, showing his pearly white teeth. I stroked his cheek and gracefully picked up his nearly identical one. "James Paul McCartney, accept this ring as a token of my love."

"I will." He choked out through his rapidly forming tears.

A tear slid down Paul's cheek and I whisked it away with the back of my hand. Grinning as far as I could, I softly said "I may now kiss my husband."

I pulled Paul's face to mine and touched my lips to his, sealing our makeshift marriage.

"I now pronounce us man and wife." I whispered sarcastically into his ear as he nuzzled into my neck.

"John." Paul said, rubbing his tear-stained eyes in my hair. "Now's not the time."

"I now pronounce us man and not wife." I corrected, trying my hardest not to laugh.

Paul punched me lightly on the arm and pulled away. "You're horrible."

"But you love me."

"Yeah, I do." He blushed, something as common as breathing for him these days.

"I love you more."

Paul took me by the hand and led me into the cozy kitchen. The wedding cake sat beautifully decorated on the counter, crisp with white frosting. Green and blue accents dotted the edges to add a personal touch with our favorite colors. He handled the gleaming kitchen knife with care and sliced two neat pieces.

"One for you," he said as he handed me a plate. "And one for your newlywed husband, A.K.A. me."

I took my slice from him and kissed his cheek. "It looks lovely. Really."

Paul gave me a mischievous smile then smashed the small piece of cake into my face, smearing it onto my cheekbones.

Laughing, I did the same to him. "You little bastard."

Paul threw back his head in laughter and used his finger to swipe a bit of mashed cake off of my cheek. He licked his hand, then blew a kiss. "But you love me."

"Nah, that was before I married you."

He put his hands on his hips, and gave me a death glare. "You're just full of it today, aren't you?"

"Aren't I always?" I joked. "I'm just kidding, you know."

"I know." Paul winked and grabbed the nearest dishtowel from the cabinet to clean off his face.

I did the same, allowing myself to taste Paul's creation resting all over my face. "It's not bad, actually."

"Of course it's not." He glanced contented. "All my creations are marvelous."

The phone started ringing, and at the first ring Paul was already saying, "You answer it."

Before checking who it was, I protested, "If it's Brian or George Martin, or whatever, I don't have any intentions of working on my wedding day."

"Hello?"

"John?" It was Ringo. Lovely.

"Rings? Guess what?"

"We have another Number One hit?"

"I just married Paul!"

"Today? Already? Why didn't you invite us?"

"Yes! And sorry about that... Want to pass by with George? We have wine and a marvelous master cake made by Paul waiting for our hungry kid."

"Formidable. Wait for us."

I hung up and smiled at my husband. "Geo and Ritchie are coming to celebrate."

He rolled his eyes and I assumed he wanted to take a little revenge from my past teasing. "Celebrate what?"

"Come on, love! Those jokes don't fit you. It's not even funny." I giggled at how cute he looks when he tries to appear upset with me. I kissed his cheek and murmured, "You're too adorable." getting another of his charming smiles in response.

This was just the beginning of the second best day of my life.

Description
John Lennon P.O.V

Now I'm engaged with the man that drives me crazy. Our engagement rings are thin and made of silver, with the date July 6 scripted.
But there's one slight problem: my fiancée is crying curled against me at the side of our bed, and my heart aches at an indescribable way, of seeing my love carrying such pain and sorrow.
That's what happens when you're so naïve, and get blind by the love and happiness you have; like if the rest of the world agreed to spoil our plans.
This early morning, we woke up determined to go to a court and ask all the requirements for getting married. We didn't know anything about what do you need for marrying legally; a birth certificate, I suppose.
What was wrong with asking? I really don't know. Last thing I remember is us being yelled at a court and accused of sinners and law-breakers, "Men don't marry each other, that's impossible and goes against the law. You could get sued for what you've asked, and should be thankful I won't tell anyone. Didn't you know that's forbidden? I assume with the luxury life you have, you think you can do everything and there are no limits; how wrong you are. Because you're famous you think you two can decide what is wrong and what is right? You make God cry. The Devil is waiting for you in hell; you should be ashamed of yourselves. Now do me a big favor get out."

I've never seen Paul so hurt and weak. I just wanted to punch that man in the face, but I just couldn't. What happens when you hit a lawyer? You go to jail? It was something I didn't want to find out.
Maybe it was my fault for living in my own world and not viewing what happens in the real one.
The road home was quiet, as none of us found any appropriate words to say to each other. The euphoria and rejoicing of an hour ago vanished creating a melt of the most unpleasant feelings.
But there had to be another way. This man, sobbing in my shoulder under the covers at a side of our bed, is the one who owns my heart, and I swear I'll make him smile again. I'm going to marry James Paul McCartney, whether the fucking law wants it or not.

"We don't need the law, the Church's or anyone's approval. What's more important than our love to get married? For me, that's the only requirement. I want to marry you, and nothing's going to stop me for doing it." I whispered into Paul's ear.

He quickly removed the sobs that were left in his angelical face, and decided, "Let's marry ourselves in the apartment. I want to marry you today."

It pleased me more than anything to watch how rapidly his mood changed.

Our pair of engagement rings sparkled in the early morning sunlight. I reached over and took them both off of the nightstand and wiggled mine onto my ring finger. It looked so right on me, like it was meant to be there.

Gently, I plucked Paul's left hand out from under the blankets and slid his on as well. He looked up to me and smiled; no sign of tears anymore.

"I love you, John," he said. "A whole fucking lot."

I brushed his dark hair from his forehead and pecked him softly. "I love you more, Macca."

"I'll get some flowers from the florist, and you can go find the Bible for vows."

"Alright, but while you're out, could you pick up some wine or something? We need to celebrate!" I proclaimed as I threw the covers off of the two of us.

At ten minutes after eleven o'clock, I stood back to admire my handiwork. The living room was draped in all the clean quilts and blankets I could find to create a covered alter. Vases of flowers dotted the tables and petals were sprinkled on the floor. Colorful candles lead up the aisle and glowed beautifully, making the room seem both peaceful and romantic. On a pillow, sat our two rings; our engagement rings that were ready to finally become wedding bands. I polished the set until I could see my reflection.

I heard the oven door shut in the kitchen, the smell of sweet cake wafted to my nostrils. Paul was on food duty, and had baked a modest wedding cake to enjoy after our ceremony along with a bottle of champagne and a spread of surprises.

"Are you ready, Paul?" I shouted to my fiancée, anxiety bubbling inside of me.

"In a minute, John! I've got to put the cake down!" Paul yelled. I could hear him rustling around in the other room. "Unless you want to eat popcorn as our wedding dinner then I suggest you to shut up!"
A few minutes later he appeared in the doorway. Dressed in a full tuxedo, my fiancée never looked more handsome. His eyes widened and he grinned as he took in the sight. I motioned him to come over, for I was waiting at our 'alter' already.

Paul laughed and started prancing towards me, his eyes wide and full of excitement.

"Here comes the bride…" I sang slowly, teasing him.

He stopped midway and raised his eyebrow. "I am not a fucking girl, nor do I plan on ever being one."

I stuck out my tongue, and changed the lyrics to the song. "Here comes the other groom…"

"Much better." Paul chuckled. "I'm glad you recognize I am indeed a lad."

"I would hope that I would've." I shot back playfully. "Now come on, I want to get married!"

Finally, he reached me in front of the windows. Paul squeezed my hand and picked up a piece of paper from the nearest table. On it were our vows, and I watched as he read them over carefully.
Tears were already forming in my eyes and I could see the same happening to him.

Paul looked me in the eyes, full of love.

"I, James Paul McCartney take thee, John Winston Lennon, to be my unlawfully wedded husband, secure in the knowledge that you will be my constant friend, my faithful partner in life, and my one true love. On this special day, I give to you in the presence of God and these nonexistent witnesses my pledge to stay by your side as your faithful husband in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, as well as through the good times and the bad." Paul recited, his eyes filling with tears with each soulful word.

"I promise to love you without reservation, comfort you in times of distress, encourage you to achieve all of your goals, laugh with you and cry with you, grow with you in mind and spirit, always be open and honest with you, and cherish you for as long as we both shall live."

Now, it was my turn. Gently, I squeezed my soon-to-be-husband's hand and looked deep into his eyes.

"I, John Winston Lennon, take thee, James Paul McCartney to be my unlawfully wedded husband, secure in the knowledge that you will be my constant friend, my faithful partner in life, and my one true love. On this special day, I give to you in the presence of God and these nonexistent witnesses my pledge to stay by your side as your faithful husband in sickness and in health, in joy and in sorrow, as well as through the good times and the bad." My heart swelled for the enormous amount of love I had for this man.

"I promise to love you without reservation, honor and respect you, provide for your needs as best as I can, protect you from harm, comfort you in times of distress, grow up with you in mind and spirit, always be open and honest with you, and cherish you for as long as we both shall live."

Paul reached over to the velvet pillow and cautiously plucked my ring off. He took my left in his and slid the band on. "John Winston Lennon, accept this ring as a token of my love."

I nodded and whispered "I will."

He smiled hugely, showing his pearly white teeth. I stroked his cheek and gracefully picked up his nearly identical one. "James Paul McCartney, accept this ring as a token of my love."

"I will." He choked out through his rapidly forming tears.

A tear slid down Paul's cheek and I whisked it away with the back of my hand. Grinning as far as I could, I softly said "I may now kiss my husband."

I pulled Paul's face to mine and touched my lips to his, sealing our makeshift marriage.

"I now pronounce us man and wife." I whispered sarcastically into his ear as he nuzzled into my neck.

"John." Paul said, rubbing his tear-stained eyes in my hair. "Now's not the time."

"I now pronounce us man and not wife." I corrected, trying my hardest not to laugh.

Paul punched me lightly on the arm and pulled away. "You're horrible."

"But you love me."

"Yeah, I do." He blushed, something as common as breathing for him these days.

"I love you more."

Paul took me by the hand and led me into the cozy kitchen. The wedding cake sat beautifully decorated on the counter, crisp with white frosting. Green and blue accents dotted the edges to add a personal touch with our favorite colors. He handled the gleaming kitchen knife with care and sliced two neat pieces.

"One for you," he said as he handed me a plate. "And one for your newlywed husband, A.K.A. me."

I took my slice from him and kissed his cheek. "It looks lovely. Really."

Paul gave me a mischievous smile then smashed the small piece of cake into my face, smearing it onto my cheekbones.

Laughing, I did the same to him. "You little bastard."

Paul threw back his head in laughter and used his finger to swipe a bit of mashed cake off of my cheek. He licked his hand, then blew a kiss. "But you love me."

"Nah, that was before I married you."

He put his hands on his hips, and gave me a death glare. "You're just full of it today, aren't you?"

"Aren't I always?" I joked. "I'm just kidding, you know."

"I know." Paul winked and grabbed the nearest dishtowel from the cabinet to clean off his face.

I did the same, allowing myself to taste Paul's creation resting all over my face. "It's not bad, actually."

"Of course it's not." He glanced contented. "All my creations are marvelous."

The phone started ringing, and at the first ring Paul was already saying, "You answer it."

Before checking who it was, I protested, "If it's Brian or George Martin, or whatever, I don't have any intentions of working on my wedding day."

"Hello?"

"John?" It was Ringo. Lovely.

"Rings? Guess what?"

"We have another Number One hit?"

"I just married Paul!"

"Today? Already? Why didn't you invite us?"

"Yes! And sorry about that... Want to pass by with George? We have wine and a marvelous master cake made by Paul waiting for our hungry kid."

"Formidable. Wait for us."

I hung up and smiled at my husband. "Geo and Ritchie are coming to celebrate."

He rolled his eyes and I assumed he wanted to take a little revenge from my past teasing. "Celebrate what?"

"Come on, love! Those jokes don't fit you. It's not even funny." I giggled at how cute he looks when he tries to appear upset with me. I kissed his cheek and murmured, "You're too adorable." getting another of his charming smiles in response.

This was just the beginning of the second best day of my life.