IMAGINE #18 || John ||

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This is called: Not All Imagines Have Happy Endings

---

Now that he was engaged, you didn't know what to do, but running to the park seemed like a good choice, for now.

Panic struck you. You couldn't face him anymore. It seemed like just yesterday when George had called and said John had proposed.

It was well after high school when you realized you loved him. You didn't want to because you knew that he can never return your feelings. There were always those prettier girls, the ones his age. Being two years younger really damn sucks. Might as well have been five years younger from the way he's treated you- you were nothing more than a friend to him.

What were you going to do?

Maybe you should just go back, stop by and offer your congratulations.

It was well past 4 pm by the time you finished your second cigarette. Smoking was a bad habit you picked up from John.

You violently flicked it to the ground and exhaled.

'Act like an adult' you told yourself. It was immature of you to run away from your problems. The boys were probably at your house right now, looking for you.

But maybe John wasn't even there! What if he didn't care for you anymore? Well, he didn't call you since you received the news that he had been engaged. Maybe he's broken all ties with you for good.

At least one of you has grown up.

Yes, you made up your mind. John didn't  put an effort into contacting you at tour, there shouldn't be any difference now that they were home. And above all, you also wanted to see George.

You would tell him what was going on. He would be there for you, he never left your side. A friend was what you needed, not these cigarettes.

Making up your mind, you pathetically tried wiping away the tears when you heard an all too familiar voice.

"It's a bit cold to be out here."

Your throat started to tighten and you could feel your blood boil. This couldn't be happening. He sat down beside you in silence, looking as far off to the north as possible. His presence made it impossible to think clearly. You needed to leave before you said something stupid and let him know you weren't happy with his engagement.

"I should really see George. He's probably looking for me." You mumbled after a while. You're heart started beating faster when you realized that those were the first words you said to him in over a month.

It was time to go. But as you stood up, he grabbed your wrist and stared at you, almost desperately.

"Sit down." He said.

You looked him in the eyes, trying to communicate what words couldn't but it seemed like he didn't understand. However, one thing his eyes promised was that there wasn't another person in the world he wanted to see. He looked at you like you were the only reason he had come home;  it was  things like this that would always leave you second guessing yourself.

Nervously, you nodded and sat back down.

You weren't looking at him but you knew all his attention was on you. His eyes were burning through the side of your face in his attempt of studying you. When you couldn't take it anymore, you turned to face him.

"What." You spit out harshly.

He said nothing for a while, and you almost thought that it might've offended him, but then he spoke.

"What's wrong?" 

"Nothing." You lied. But everything in you cried out the truth. A hidden tear rolled down your cheek but his eyes never left yours. You see, you were always good at hiding your true emotions. It could've fooled anyone, even John.

--

"Nothing." She said.

But John knew she meant everything. And despite the fact he couldn't be with her, a part of him wanted her to say it.

John knew what your true feelings were. The way you looked at him and the way you smile. You were in love with him. It killed him everyday to know that he couldn't return your love.
He often thought about what you two could be, but he was engaged.

So instead of spilling out all he knew, he chose to believe her.

--

"Are you sure you're okay?"  He repeated.

You blinked once to stop your vision from getting blurry.

Years of unspoken words should've been said here, but it never came. "Yeah John. Trust me, I'm just tired."

Small tears were forming in his eyes as well and he had to look away and wipe them before you saw them fall.

"Well, let's go back home." He said pathetically.

"Okay." And it seemed like it was towards no one in particular.

-Beatles-                     ||IMAGINE||Where stories live. Discover now