𝑆𝐿𝑂𝑊 𝐿𝐼𝐾𝐸 𝐻𝑂𝑁𝐸𝑌. the beatles imagines & one shots

🍂*𝐵𝑂𝑂𝐾𝑆𝑇𝑂𝑅𝐸: john lennon

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　☕️　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

1961

one day john (and paul who tagged along) had taken you to your favorite bookstore. it was a small, tall, old barnes & noble bookstore off the corner of a street in london. it was overlooked to the public with 2 stories of just entirely books and a small cafe placed in the interior, but you happened to find it.

as soon as you were inside and the fuzzy smell of coffee beans and book-spines filled your senses, you turned to them, "i'll be in and out," you smiled, "i won't take long."

"alright love." john agreed, kissing your hand and letting it slide out of his to roam the store. they let you wonder off and seated themselves at the café tables, ordering a tall americano each.

5 minutes past. until 5 turned to 10, and 10 to 25.

"jesus christ john." paul stated, looking at the clock on the moss-colored walls and tottering his foot impatiently, "where is she?" john only shrugged, looked at his watch, and took a sip of his dark coffee. "i have no idea. maybe i should go get her." but right as he finished, there you came into sight, one thick book in your hand, a smile on your face and a twinkle in your eye that made john soften.

he knew firsthand how you were with books. how you loved to read them, annotate them, keep them in your bag at all times so that if you were ever bored, you'd have something to do. although you rarely read aloud, he found himself wanting you to read what you were interested in, to him. and when you had read to him, when you two were in the bed late one evening, it made him so happy to see you so involved into a plot, a setting, a literary piece.

put briefly, he loved it when you read, and you would read forever if he let you. "finally!" paul rose from the seat to stretch his legs like he had been there for years and had to crack every bone imaginable to make the point that he had been. "i'm ready whenever you are." john said to you, grabbing his coat and coffee.

"actually," you led on, handing john your book and almost laughing at paul's dropping face. "can you help me reach a book up on the second floor?" he nodded while you grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and leading him up to the oak-stained stairs while paul followed unwillingly behind.

"it's that one." you pointed to the top shelf. he grabbed it without effort, and you marveled at the book before handing it to him, "oh, and that one." you pointed to another, a short distance beside it. then pointed to, yet another, and he grabbed and held them in his arms, until they were stacking up like bricks against his chest. "and this one, on the top right." you said, and he grabbed the one you fancied. "oh just one more." you ruminated, hinting to the last and he stacked it on his arms with the others, steadying himself fairly.

you turned to face him and smiled at his full arms.

john and books. you thought, two of my favorite things together.

so you reached and held his face with one hand while you kissed his cheek dearly, before telling him to follow you to reach another book. paul shook his head, scoffing with amusement as they watched you walk down the endless rows and shelves lined with publications. "your poor arms and wallet." he joked, but john shook his head, a guiltless care to his tone, "she can get the whole store and i'll carry it for her."

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𓆩♡𓆪

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