John Lennon the Heartbreaker

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John sauntered into the lettering class, early for once. Cynthia had taken her usual seat on the back row second seat from the corner. Her hair was splayed out over her arm and her desk as John watched her intently from the open door, finishing off his third cigarette of the morning. He withdrew a stick of gum from his pocket and slid into the seat next to her.

"Morning Miss Powell" John greeted curtly. Her head lifted slightly and John became lost in her gorgeous brown eyes again. She smiled one of those blinding smiles and set her pen down before responding.

"Good Morning John, and how are you today?" Cynthia asked her elbow came to rest on her desk, and her hand cradled her head as she focused on John. John and his teddy boy hair that she wanted to run her fingers through. John and his badass attitude that made her want him more. John and his eyes that never reflected the emotion that was poured into his words. It was just John, and Cynthia couldn't get enough of him.

"Are you okay?" John asked leaning against the wall behind him, cocking his head to the side as he tried to differentiate the many emotions that were going across Cynthia's face right then. He wasn't sure, but damn, he wanted to know so bad how she felt for him.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Cynthia mumbled as she reached across her desk and slid her glasses up her nose softly. John smiled at the little change she had made to her appearance, but inside, he wanted her more. So much more. What was he to do?

He heard her giggle before he heard her voice. Looking up, John saw that Cynthia's slim, red polished hand was covering her mouth holding in the giggles that were threatening to spill out.

"What is it Miss Powell?" John said with a smirk. He felt his own laugh coming up and threatening to spill out at the sight of her laughing. Being happy had been a hard thing for John lately, being happy had always been a hard thing since his Uncle George had died. Mimi wasn't one to give in to the attitudes of teenagers and laugh along with John when he would regale the tales of frequenting the clubs, and someone having a drunken mishap.

"You just had this look on your face, mind you it wasn't a bad one," Cynthia said composing herself and sliding a hand down her tight pencil skirt to smooth out the wrinkles. Her head lifted and the expression was back on John's face. The one that looked like he wanted her just as bad as she wanted him. Luckily, she was able to hold down a giggle this time as the professor had walked in and started up the class as usual.

----

"What are you doing tonight Miss Powell?" John asked as the two walked out of class. They were the last two out of the class because John insisted on waiting for her while she talked to the professor about an upcoming assignment. She smiled up at John, her arms swinging freely at her sides, John had also insisted that he carry her books for her, exposing the softer side of John Lennon.

"I don't know" Cynthia said as she looked ahead, squinting her eyes to see the number of the building that was slowly looming before them. The twosome had entered the building before John spoke again.

"I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go on a date tonight, to Ye Cracke with some friends and I" John said, he was silently thanking God that he hadn't tripped over his words. It was the longest string of words that he had spoken to Cynthia in the two days that he had known her; and John Lennon never got nervous around girls.

"I have a boyfriend, in Blackpool," Cynthia said biting her bottom lip timidly. She knew John had never been rejected in his life and she wasn't sure what it meant to be the first girl who had ever rejected John Lennon. His face contorted and twisted with something that was between anger and hurt.

"I didn't fucking ask you to marry me did I?!" John exclaimed as he shoved Cynthia's books back into her hands. Tears welled up in her eyes and she turned away from John as she briskly opened the classroom door.

"Fuckin' hell" John mumbled when Cynthia was out of earshot. He had killed every chance he ever had with her and he knew now that he would be lucky if he got to even look at her the next day in class. He made her cry and usually that wouldn't phase him, not that he was a douchebag, he was just used to girls crying when he told them it was over. But Cynthia was different. He felt lower than low when he saw those tears well up in her soft inviting brown eyes.

He pulled out another cigarette once he had left the other building and headed for the edge of campus as he lit it. He needed time to think, and he knew where to go. He would go to Ye Cracke and maybe get a couple pints of Pale Ale. Get a little tipsy and crash at Stu's place.

---

The next morning dawned, cold and gloomy. The air felt worse and John knew exactly why. He had upset the only girl he truly fell for. He made her cry and if that wasn't the lowest, shittiest thing someone could do, he didn't know what was. He had stumbled home late last night and the morning found him regretting signing up for the stupid art college in the first place. If he had never sent in the application, he never would've met Cynthia, and he never would have made her cry.

He didn't stop by Stu's this morning, and he didn't see Thelma which he was grateful for inside because he knew he couldn't handle it. He wouldn't be able to front as the badass teddy boy in front of Thelma this morning. He turned onto campus and caught her eye almost immediately. He regretted it almost as soon as it had happened. She was gorgeous this morning, more so than usual. But, it was her eyes that killed John, he saw how red and puffy they were. The soft chocolate orbs surrounded by the remnants of a teary night.

He turned away from her, and headed the other way, making his way into the lettering class. He was the first one there which was a first for him. He either arrived late, or not at all. Those few moments of solitude in class he treasured. He treasured greatly. It was just another few moments that he wouldn't have to see the emotional toll he had taken on the girl.

"Morning John," Cynthia greeted softly taking her usual seat by him. She sat down and refused to look at him still. Instead, she turned to her friend, Phyl, John thought it was. The two girls talked and laughed like he would do with Cynthia before he had hurt her so.

Much to John's relief, the professor started the class and he leaned over to ask Cynthia for a piece of paper and a pen that he could borrow. She handed them to him without making eye contact and he quickly started to scrawl down lyrics. He knew this would be the one song that would win her over.

Ain't She Sweet?

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A/N: Alright, I know, I know John dated Thelma Pickles, but not here, just because I don't care for her, she interferes with my John and Cynthia(;

Anyhow, was this any good?

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