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Chapter 8

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Part 8- John's P.O.V

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John walked back to Mendips in silence, thoughts about Paul endlessly nagging him the whole way. Something had been off with Paul, he wasn't acting like usual. Being sick could be the reason, but there was something else John had picked up on. He was acting as if he wanted to ask him a question but changed his mind about it. That bird hadn't been staring at him and Paul knew it, he just needed something to say. John let it slide, taking note of his strange behavior. He went along with it, pretending he had known about the girl staring all along. It wasn't normal for them to hold back what they wanted to say, usually they were honest with each other. A little too honest at times. It just didn't make sense, John felt as if Paul wouldn't want to be as open with him anymore, because of the kiss.

Well screw the sodding kiss, he thought.

It hurt him to think Paul wasn't as comfortable as he used to be around him. Pushing the thoughts out of his mind, John reached the front door at Mimi's house and opened it quietly. All the lights in the house were off, meaning his aunt was already in bed. He held his breath as he walked upstairs, trying to be as silent as possible. There was a creaky floor board that he accidentally stepped on and he cursed himself quietly, hoping the echoing noise hadn't woken Mimi. Once he realized that it didn't, he continued tip-toeing until he could open his bedroom door and quickly go inside, shutting it behind him. He sighed in relief and crawled into bed, his mind too tired and his system too full of alcohol to be bothered to change out of his clothes.

The next morning he woke with a dull headache, pounding away at the back of his skull. A yellow-ish light shone past his curtains that annoyed him to no end. He pulled his blanket over his face with a muffled groan. John Lennon was not a morning person, even if it was technically noon already. He stood up from his bed and stretched sleepily, his back popping with a satisfying sound. He knew he had better change and not let Mimi see that he slept in the clothes he wore yesterday.

He changed quickly and brushed his teeth, removing all traces of the smell of beer from his breath. He went downstairs, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Mimi was drinking tea in her chair in the sitting room, an already irritated look on her face. John smiled as convincingly as he could, walking into the room confidently.

"John Winston Lennon, you better have some explanation as to why you weren't back last night at any decent time!" She snapped angrily, a tone John was very much used to by now. "Don't get your knickers in a twist, Mimi. I was at Paul's, writing and such." He lied casually, as he often did towards his aunt. The lies came naturally, rolling off his tongue as easily as telling the truth. "I should have known you were with that McCartney boy. I do wish you would just stay away from him." She scolded, although John could tell she was in no mood to bicker and would let him off the hook easily this time around. He didn't bother answering, instead he just headed back up to his room, plopping down onto the bed and turning on his radio.

He entertained the idea of going over to Paul's house, knowing that it would just be the two of them, if Paul were better enough to write. He wasn't sure if he wanted to be alone with the younger lad, though. It had only been around a week since Paul...since he kissed him. John winced, not liking to think about that. He had chose to pretend it never happened, so why should it stop him from going to Paul's house now?

The thought of them alone made him feel strange, he couldn't understand it. He just had a bad feeling about it that told him he shouldn't go. And of course, that only made him want to go more. He still wanted to know what Paul had begun to ask him. But what if it had something to do with the kiss? Would Paul really want to bring it up again? John felt as queasy as Paul had been last night, thoughts turning over in his head and plaguing his mind. He was over thinking, and he knew it. He had a bad habit of over thinking, making things much more difficult than they really were.