The Blue Danube [OLD]

- 𝔱𝔴𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔶 𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔢. ﾐ

╲⠀╲⠀╲ ╲

⠀⠀╲⠀╲⠀☆⠀ ╲⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀☆⠀╲⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ★

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀★

april 1859

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Er... yes." John wasn't listening to a single word the lanky, wrinkled old woman with a puffed chest and turned down nose was saying. She had been talking him and Cynthia's ear off for the past half hour about various art pieces and vases and the like; champagne glass in hand, dressed flawlessly in an extremely expensive suit made of rich green silk, top hat resting on his head, one arm resting comfortably on Cynthia's waist. If he could, he wouldn't be touching her - but for the act of a happily engaged couple they had to do so. And the look one of the older men was giving her made disgust rise up in his throat like bile, feeling the need to keep her close just in case.

"This art is just delightful! Who did this one?" Cynthia indulged her with a fake smile, gesturing to one which was a still painting of some sort of banquet, looking a bit like The Last Supper.

"Oh, it was by.." John continued to not listen, instead just taking to staring at the wall and nodding on to whatever was said with an expression devoid of emotion.
Paul McCartney. Paul. Macca. Paulie. James. Paul. McCartney. Cart of eggs. McPaulie. Pauline. Maccy. McOrange. Paurange. I eat Pauranges.

The last thing he thought of made a snicker bubble up in his throat before he could stop it and the woman's head snapped towards him in shock and offence.

"Sorry- sorry-" He quickly masked his giggling by fake-coughing into his elbow. "This champagne is a - little strong, I am dearly sorry. Just-just choked on it a little bit." He fumbled for an excuse with deep red cheeks, feeling all the people around him training their eyes on him; the woman raised one suspicious eyebrow before continuing her rant, Cynthia not really listening either anymore.

"What were you laughing about?" She half-whispered, gazing up at him with a small smile, and he smiled back.

"Oh, nothin'.. I mashed Paul's name with orange and made it Paurange." He struggled not to laugh again at saying it and his fiancé giggled at that as well, glad to finally have one small moment to have a meaningful conversation for a moment.

"That's a good one. You have to tell me about Paul tonight later on! I want to know about the person that captured my fiancé's heart." There wasn't any negative emotion showing on Cynthia's face at all, for some reason. Just genuine curiosity and interest. It struck John to his very core, and he almost felt like crying suddenly. Cynthia was so fucking lovely. He didn't deserve her at all. She should hate him for losing interest in him and falling for another person, but she didn't. She loved him anyway. His heart soared at that and his lips were pulled up into a heartfelt smile - he hoped it showed how he felt right then.