The Less I Know The Better [complete]

21 ;; secrets

Blades of grass tickled John's cheeks as he laid sprawled on his back in a familiar clearing, eyelids shut as he hummed along to distant, gentle notes of a guitar; he felt the weak breeze on his face and the light of the sunset on his eyelids. His hands laid comfortably on his chest, one possessing a half-smoked cigarette that he lazily brought to his lips every now and then, one leg crossed over the other as they laid across his friends' legs. Ringo's legs, to be exact. The two of them and George were chatting idly as they lay in the depths of Strawberry Fields, enjoying their time together on a Friday night, fresh out of school. They were still in their uniforms, actually, but their ties, shoes and blazers had been discarded long ago. George had eventually taken John's guitar at some point (he had brought it with him to alleviate his boredom) and was now displaying a mysterious tune he was seemingly making up as he went.
It had been an interesting past few days since Paul had visited him at his house in the depths of the night. The days afterwards, Paul had only seemed to be present when the group were all together. He only talked to John a few times when it was necessary, sat furthest away from him, and put on this mask of pleasantness; the moment they were alone, he would be gone in the blink of an eye, always with an excuse such as "got to get to class" or "da' needs me home for somethin'." It was infuriating John. But, what was worrying him was the rare times he would lock eyes with the auburn-haired boy - his cheeks would flush bright red and his eyes would glisten with something unsure. With unease. It was strange. It was better than the two of them not talking at all, per se, but this weird state of Paul finding as many possible ways to avoid talking or looking at John without looking suspicious and still hang out with George and Ringo wasn't all that great. It was toying with his anxiety and his deeper fears. That opening up to Paul like that - being emotionally vulnerable with him, basically begging the boy not to abandon him - had scared him off of being his friend. That he had weirded him out by being all soft, and that he didn't seem to want to be friends with him after all. At least he wasn't being an outright dick like they used to be to each other.. but it was still frightening to John. Did he really scare Paul off? It was driving him insane. The vindictive voices in his head would always sneer and him and say "of course", but he tried to hold out a tiny beacon of hope that that wasn't the reasoning for Paul's strange behaviour. That he hadn't driven him away with his sob story and insecurities. He had considered talking to Ringo about it, but he didn't want to have to constantly turn to his friend with his problems. There were just some things he wanted to keep between just him and Paul.

"John? Yer about to burn your fingers off."

He resurfaced at George's voice, blinking his eyes open and looking down at his hands. A sudden burst of pain shot up his arm and he let out a 'gah!' and dropped his cigarette to the grass beside him. He'd been so lost in thought he didn't realise that his cig had been burning away, and he quickly put it out with his elbow to ensure it wouldn't light the grass on fire. He sat up quickly and examined his burnt fingers, but relaxed when he saw no real damage had been done.

"Somethin' occupyin' yer mind, John?" Ringo began, raising an eyebrow curiously as he sat next to George against the tree trunk, head resting on the younger boy's shoulder. "You've been so distant and weird lately."

"I'm surprised anythin' can occupy his mind other than Elvis or jerkin' it." George snarked with a grin, chuckling when John tossed his cigarette butt at him in retaliation.

"Shut it. What do you think about, anyroad, Geo?" He grinned back. "Do you think about anythin' other than Elvis and jerkin' it?"

"Yeah." He continued plucking idly at the strings on John's guitar.

"Like what?" John raised his eyebrows.

"Brigitte Bardot."

"Oh, such a step up!" He laughed, leaning back on his hands as he adjusted his position a bit.