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Kaylee's POV

What could I have done?

I wasn't going to look John in the eyes and say 'Oh, uhm, awkies! My parent's are still kinda being planned out by a young couple - I didn't mention it? Yeah! I'm from the 21st century!"

No.

John's hopeful stare broke me down; what could I do?

"Th- they're on vacation in Germany," I explained, pulling away from John's arms. "You don't mind if we wait 'til they come back?"

I bit my lip hesitantly. I needed all the time I could manage. If maybe John brought it, and we 'waited', he'd forget all about this whole parent situation.

Fumbling with my fingers, John finally groaned in reply and I grinned brightly. Hopefully I'll have thought of a plan before my 'parents get back'.

"But I do want to meet them, you know." John emphasised, and I nodded hard. "I hope you're not joking."

"Oh no," I answered, tip-toeing to peck him lightly on the lips before twirling and exiting the room. What a risky situation. "I'd never lie about this."

===

My hands reached out across the bed as sunlight danced along my eyelids, forcing me awake.

"John," I whispered, but with the tips of my fingers finding empty space and no reply, I knew he wasn't there.

Bang.

Oh, he's cooking.

Smiling cheekily to myself, I pushed up and sat against the pillows John had roughly tossed on his side.

The smell of bacon filled the room and I wriggled my nose, debating on whether I should continue to sleep or get up and help him.

"Might as well.." I muttered, swinging my legs off the side of the bed to get up, when a sight caught my eye.

The little black drawing book.

It's edge was peeking out from underneath a t-shirt John must've worn, now on the floor, and I leant over forward to grab it.

My eyes took in the detail; it was old. He must've brought it when he was much younger.

Should I be doing this?

I knew it would hurt John, maybe in a way I didn't know, but it would.

With my mind fighting a worthless battle, I gave in and lifting the cover, I took in the first page. Many drawings, all mocking and in pencil, leaped out and demanded my attention.

There was George: large ears and wild hair.

Paul: abnormally bug-like eyes and long eyelashes.

Ringo: Crooked nose, that I couldn't help but smirk at, and his hands in view, each finger decked with rings.

I smiled adoringly. This was what his mind was full of. Colours, cartoons and fun.

Flipping to a random page, I frowned deeply at the sight of Cynthia. Her blonde hair was perfectly drawn, and her face had obviously been in great detail, but now it was scribbled. There was now a great black mark where her face would have been.

I realised what it meant. She was a memory John had over-passed and obviously didn't want.

My stomach churned and I closed the book, not bothering to go through the rest of the pages.

This book was most likely full of milestones, and I couldn't bear to see what he'd been thinking when he and I went through the period of our separation.

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