Work Text:
John sat down on the wooden stool next to the phone. He lightly trailed his fingertips above the numbers, barely touching them. On impulse, he picked up the phone, pressing in a series of numbers he had committed to memory years ago. The phone rang.
“Paul McCartney here.” A muffled yet unmistakable voice from the other line. John took in a sharp breath.
“Paul.”
“John?” He said hopefully. John tugged at the cord, sliding it between his fingers.
“Sorry to bother you, Macca.” He said quickly, pushing the phone back into the cradle. The heels of his palms came up to press into his eyes as he let out a choked sigh.