Strawberry Fields Forever (A Beatles Fanfiction)

Chapter 22

Michelle's POV

I laughed outloud as John looked at me and wriggled his eyebrows, singing and laughing as he drove.

"John! Keep your eyes on the road!" I laughed again and turned down the radio, the sound of Elvis slowly fading out.

He kept his eyes locked on mine as he turned and parked into the hotel parking lot. As John got all his stuff out of the trunk, I heard laughing and saw the hotel doors shut with Paul, George and Ringo just having gone inside. Suddenly I remembered what Ringo had asked me.

"John?" I got out of the passenger seat and stood next to him by the open trunk.

"Yes, Mick?" My heart fluttered.

"Why did you tell me that the boys weren't going to be home tonight?"

His eyes quickly widened and he turned slightly pink. His hands shot up in the air, as if a police officer had asked him to do so.

"Alright," he gave a small smile. "You caught me." I laughed with him.

"What do you mean?"

"I just wanted to be alone with you tonight, to be honest. I made it up." He grew redder.

Already assuming this was the case, I still grew red myself. Me? John Lennon wants to be alone with me? I knew he liked me as a friend, and I was so thankful they all accepted me so willingly, but this was too good to be true.

I mean, its John Lennon. He has the voice and looks of an angel, for crying out loud.

I grabbed his guitar and shrugged, beginning to walk inside with a smile.

"I figured." I replied smugly.

A huge smile grew across John's face as he opened his eyes wide with surprise, following me into the building.

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John's POV

'That was a bold move you made there, Lennon.' I thought to myself. Was admitting to her I wanted to be alone too much? I didn't want to scare her off.

The stove timer rang, and I quickly ran over to stir the pasta I was cooking.

Michelle appeared a few minutes later, emerging from the bathroom.

"That smells delicious, John."

I looked up at her and was instantly mesmerized. I don't know what has gotten into me, only recently, every time I look at her it feels as if I am standing on the tallest mountain, overlooking the most beautiful sunset to ever occur.

Her dark, striking hair was pulled half up in a ponytail, the other half flowing long and wavy down to her bellybutton. Her bangs swooped just above her eyes, enveloping her face as if it were protecting it. Her green eyes were so bold it was almost unnatural looking, a green so sweet and bright.

Her white lace longsleeve flowed down her arms and chest, gracefully swaying down and fitting perfectly in all the right spots. Her blue jeans were faded and light, coming out at her ankles.

She made her way over to the couch, a strut so bliss you'd almost think she was gliding across the floor. As she walked her hair bounced, perfectly bobbing up and down with each step she took.

"Um, John?" Her sweet, melodic voice spoke my name, something I'd never get tired of hearing. I was in a trance.

"John?"

I blinked hard before snapping out of it.

"Yes, love?"

She giggled. My heart dropped.

"Is there enough macaroni in there to actually eat?"

"Wha-" I turned around to see the pot completely overflowing, macaroni on the stove and floor. Whatever was left in the pot was burned very badly.

"Oh!" I quickly grabbed the pot, throwing it off the stove as fast as I could, being careful not to splash any more hot water.

She covered her mouth to laugh and ran in the opposite direction of the boiling pot. There was a loud sizzle as the water fell out of the pot and hit the stove, all of the macaroni, the burnt and the unburnt pieces, falling all over the floor.

We both stood with out mouths wide open. I slapped my forehead and sighed.

'This is why you don't cook.' I thought hopelessley to myself. I looked up at Michelle as she put her hands to her side, and shifted on one hip.

"Now what are we supposed to do for dinner?"

I felt nothing but embarrassment as I looked at my 'romantic dinner' all over the floor. To her this might not have been a romantic dinner, but I sure planned it that way.

I scratched my head and opened up the fridge.

"Quick, strawberry or blueberry?"

She grew a puzzled look as a smile stretched across her beautiful face.

"Um, strawberry."

I lifted the small cake out of the fridge.

"Strawberry cheesecake for dinner it is, then." I slid it down the counter and grabbed two forks.

"Bòn apetitè." I said in my best French accent, curtseying as I held the pan in front of her. She laughed and took the fork.

"John do you want to go somewhere?"

"Huh?" I couldn't think of a response any more charming than that.

"It's a beautiful night out, why don't we eat outside? I know just where to go." She flashed a smile and I melted.

I looked out the window. The moon was huge and the stars were blinding. My heart raced at just the thought of watching them with her.

"I love that idea." I replied, straight face.

She grabbed the pan from me and tapped my
nose with her finger.

"I'll take the lead."