Beatles Imagines

9. John

"John," I greeted my boyfriend's best friend with a nod as he walked into the living room of his house. "Stuart's not in yet, he went out to go get lunch from the market."

"I know."

Stuart's father watched our interaction with each other, and by each passing moment of this encounter I felt more and more awkward by his presence. He was so intimidating. With one more glance my way, he finished the rest of his tea with a ample gulp, and set his mug onto the counter. He walked through the kitchen and upstairs without another word.

I sighed in relief, shooting a flimsy smile over at the boy who had sat down and made himself comfortable on one of the households many couches.

"What?" He questioned my actions with partial interest. His eyes flickered to me, trailing from my legs to my face, shamelessly.

I suddenly felt uncomfortable by him as well. Maybe Stuart's dad should have stayed down here...He did have quite the record of playing with girls. He was not very keen on any type of relation with the gender than sex.

He did have a true girlfriend though, once. But that girl broke it off after realizing that he wasn't being loyal in any way; juggling with multiple women behind her back.

"Nothing," I shook my head, my words cold as my thoughts bombarded me. He was not a good person, and I should not pretend that he is for the sake of being courteous.

He turned his interest elsewhere after this, staring at a photo of Stuart and his family on vacation in Chester to visit his ill aunt. It was that photo that Stuart found himself immersed in the story of, I often find him talking about different aspects of it with me.

"You should talk more. It's odd that a bird like you is shy. You didn't use to be." He criticized.

"Maybe I don't want to talk to you." I quipped, hoping to whoever is out there that Stuart would walk in the door any second and I will not have to face the crude man any longer.

"Why not?" He found interest in this, and my sudden mood change. A smirk was revealed as he turned his head towards me.

"Why don't you ask your sixteen year-old self that question?" I couldn't help but bite back to shut John up. But as I looked to see the reaction on that beautiful face, it only looked cockier from my comment.

"Oh darling, we both knew our relationship wouldn't work out."

I rolled my eyes. "You're the biggest twat that I've met. I don't even know what made me attracted to you."

There was a small silence in the room, but I knew it wouldn't bc be long until he barked some witty comment.

"How about let's recap, sweetheart. While I may have cheated on you first, you went with Stuart while we were together. So don't play innocent." He spoke matter-of-factly as though he knew exactly what he was talking about. His lips curled up and I knew it was at the fact that he thought he had exposed me.

"I never cheated on you, John. He was a friend, and it wasn't until the break-up that we started going steady. He was there for me, you definitely weren't." I held my voice in a steady volume, afraid that if I yelled at him his father would hear all of our conversation he would think we were crazy, and tell his son to find an unproblematic girl.

"Oh and I'm supposed to believe that?" The man asked.

I shook my head before scoffing. "Why would I cheat on you if I loved you?"

He stood abruptly, disbelief written on his face. I had never told him that bit of information.

"You didn't love me, you loved him." He decided for himself, and I wasn't sure if it was him protecting himself from the blatant truth or him trying to protect the solidity of his and Stuart's friendship.

"You know what? I shouldn't have to explain anything to you." I heard the words come out of my mouth.

"Do you still love me?" He questioned, his rock-hard persona faltering as he shifted with inopportuneness by the words he had just spoken.

I spoke with what I thought to be the truth,"No, that was three years ago, and my feelings are decidedly different. I love Stuart now."

His stature seemed to relax immensely, but it was the gleam in his eyes that told me he was disappointed. John didn't let that weakness surface, however, as the same smirk appeared on his face soon after.

"So you wouldn't feel anything if I kissed you?" He toyed with my emotions, but I still remained steadfast to the idea of hating his utter being.

"Im not going to kiss you," I shook my head once again, before standing from the other couch abruptly. I needed to get away from him before he tried anything.

Attempting to walk away from the man, who'd caused me more grief than anyone, he reeled me in, literally. He grabbed my wrist before I could go far, and pulled me into him.

His kiss was passionate and fervent; I did not respond to the interaction, keeping my lips as stiff as could be. But, I couldn't fight the feeling that ignited inside me. I couldn't ignore it no matter how much I wanted to. It was like coming home after a long day or like talking to someone special after you haven't seen them in months. I hated it, but it was there.

I pulled back from him, afraid of what he had done. He could've just ruined my relationship to a man that actually cared and was loyal.

"Why did you do that?" Guilt and confusion ran through me, and if it weren't for his hands on me, I was sure that I would've fallen over.

Instead of a response, he kissed me once more. Though I tried to stand my ground, I could feel myself faltering this time. My lips twitched at the small thought to kiss him back. But the pair of lips were gone as fast as they came, and a confused John emerged in my vision.

He gave a soft and simple caress to my cheek before dropping his hands by his sides. "I came here for you."

And with that, he pushed his hands in his pockets, and walked out the door, leaving me with swollen lips and a whirlwind of emotion coursing through my body.