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John gulped nervously, pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek, "Oh. Right, er... What is it, Macca?"

I leaned in closer,
slowly,
for dramatic effect, ofcourse.

     "...Um... Can ye promise me... that... ye'll quit being... such an utter, complete and helpless fool?" I finally asked the man in a rather humorous tone.

John, at last, caught his shaking breath. "Right." He bit his tongue.

"Oh! And maybe quit being such a jerk, as well. ...It may come in handy some day, this advice, ye know?" I continued.

John tried his best to gloss over my overt sarcasm, "...Paul... Jus... say the word and we're outta here. Tonight, even. Anything... ye want. I'm willing... to-" John went on and on until he noticed me changing the channel on the hotel room's television.

"Oh, Christ, Macca... What is it?" He asked curiously.

     "Saturday Night Live's on right now, ye know that? And we are in New York City." I pointed out. "Isn't it being filmed just a few blocks down the road from here?"

John nodded, "Yeah, so what?"

"...So! I don't usually get to watch this kinda stuff back home, Lennon! 'Specially since we've moved out into the middle of nowhere." I protested. "This is quite the privilege for me."

John sat down next to me on the sofa and huffed, drooping his head down to the floor. Clearly, he is not winning this battle.

I turned to look at the man sat beside me, a smile slowly creeping onto my face. I quickly let it slip away, though.

"Ey, John?" I spoke up out of the silence once more.

He sighed, completely unsure of what I could possibly say next, "...Yes, Macca?"

"I jus want ye to know that... yer definitely, by far, ...the most interesting person... I've ever met in my entire life." I spoke with only the truth to my words. "Seriously, I mean... I don't know anybody else out there... who could pull off jus half of the things that ye have... ever since the day I met ye."

John slid his glasses down to the edge of his nose, looking back at me, "...Ye really mean that, huh?" His eyes lit up a bit, appearing less defeated.

"Honest." I scooted in closer to the boy.

John crossed his fingers, "All in the name of love, doll..."

I allowed myself to smile at that.

"Love will hurt ye, Paul, but love will never mean to." John sighed. "Remember that, alright? I mean, do ye really think that I'd intentionally try to hurt ye?"

"I jus... I jus can't help myself. Love has always made me do some pretty dense things." He admitted. "But... I intend to make things right and... to never hurt my boy... ever again. Thas a right promise."

"Ah..." I sighed, still unable to find an answer to such a thing. But maybe I don't necessarily need to? Maybe the answer has been right there infront of me, for all of these years...

"What am I gonna do wi' ye, Lennon?" I giggled.

He laughed a little in return, moving his gaze back up to meet me in my eyes, he bit at his lip once more, nervously, the guilt visibly washing over him yet again.

"I guess... I don't really blame ye." I admitted.

"Hm?" He cocked his head, "What do ye mean, Macca?"

I'm Looking Through You // MclennonWhere stories live. Discover now