High on you

Hello, Goodbye

John put out the last of his drag and looked to George, who didn't look as dazed as John thought he would. Rather, George just looked relaxed as he breathed in within the cloud of smoke. He lowered his long fingers and slouched into the wall.

"A lot better now, huh?" John bumped George's shoulder with a small grin slouching his mouth.

"Yeah, Ta for this John." George breathed in slowly, as if appreciating the last bit of smoke. John was sure he'd made a good decision now. He took his own deep and long breath before hiking himself up to stand.

"Got to work the last half of my shift. Won't be long if you want a ride back?" John knew George enough to know he'd take this cue to escape the prolonged social situation. George got himself up and smiled politely.

"Nah. I'll just walk back now"

George and John walked the short distance back to the door. Before John could step inside though, George grabbed his shoulder. He was slumped back into the slightly chilling air, facing a stare from George. His eyes rimmed with a hue of red, lips near swollen from the attention he'd given them in the alley. John bit his lip, gaping the other side of his mouth and allowing air to pass through in a soft whistle. George leaned in and for a long confusing moment, John thought he was gonna kiss him. But as John was distracted by the thought, George's arm pulled back and his fist nailed Johns gut. And then George pulled back, John looked on. "I'm pissed at Paul and I don't know if we'll ever be mates again." George began, bouncing from heel to toe. But just as John was about to interrupt him, he continued.

"But the slut comment was undeserved." George ended. John pulled back on his anger and straightened from his reluctant slouch. He chuckled a bit and George seemed to let go of any worry he had for retaliation from John.

"Alright. I didn't expect that from you." John laughed "you're a good mate George." John shuffled back into the charity shop and George allowed himself to feel all the anxiety he'd restrained to do that but found it more or less muted and numb. The smell of the smoke that his clothes had absorbed reminded him why he was actually relaxed.

Mick pulled a smug smirk as John passed him, the familiar smell drenched on him. "Fun break, huh?" He bumped Johns shoulder, he chuckled as he stood by Mick's register.

"Always is." He smirked and took a small pile of books he could prolong shelving. Mick went back to work as John shuffled off, books threatening to slip from his grip. Just before they fell, John lifted his hands and slammed them flat on a half filled shelf. Slowly, he pulled them up one by one and flipped through them with dull interest. Bouncing the pages off his thumb, he read the filler words at the end where the writers had stretched put there useless stories. And then he found its place and shoved it throw the sandwiched books. A thin poem book preserved his interest for a few minutes but his own poems clouded his comprehension of the pages. He'd thought about collecting his own works together to have published but the thinly coated layer of dust over the book enhanced the point that it wouldn't attract readers. He shoved the book between the others and heard the chime of the bell over the door. He grabbed another just as Mick's voice pipped up.

"We'll Paul! Just missed George."

John set the book back down and glanced over, Paul looking somewhat better than he'd had in the morning strolled inside. As he greeted Mick and started his way down the aisles, John glided over to the register and Mick glanced from the corner of his eyes as John tried to establish what he wanted. He budged Mick over and put his hands on the sides of the register. "Think I'll have my go."

John smiled when Mick rolled his eyes and tried to reach back. "But you never worked the register before" but John just gave Mick a smug face in return.