Beatles Imagines (Slow Uploads) [Temporarily Discontinued]

The Trip Pt. 4 (John)

Here's Part four. Enjoy!

My anger was building but my sadness outweighed the anger. Hot angry tears flowed from me. I pulled away from Paul's hug. I practically slammed my lips onto Paul. I tasted my own tears. Paul seemed very taken aback yet kissed me back.

-

I sat on the couch. My blood broiling. The house was empty. The clock had struck 11 hours ago. I couldn't sleep. My husband wasn't home.

I gave up. It was almost 3 in the morning. I wasn't about to sit here until daylight. I flicked off all the lights, except the porch light and the light in the entranceway, before making my way upstairs to bed. Speedily upstairs, away from the darkness. I didn't know how well sleeping was going to go, as sleeping hadn't been a thing forever. My husband had left at 6 am yesterday morning. I watched him leave the room and I heard the front door close. His car had driven away to join the growing activity of the waking city.

I lay in the dark. Looking at the ceiling and counting the minutes. My mind going a million miles a minute. I closed my eyes at one point. Sleep didn't overcome me in any sense, I just was still.

I thought about yesterday. How I had kissed Paul. How I had broke away from the kiss and just cried. How Paul had hugged me for hours as I blubbered how sorry I was. How Paul had told me it wasn't my fault. It wasn't my fault. It wasn't my fault.. was it? I had left Paul's trying my best to keep it together as I walked home.

I turned over to look at the wall. The ceiling was boring me. That's when the door closed. I heard keys jingle and a lock click. I heard birds, but I didn't open my eyes. It had to be around 5:30. I heard movement downstairs, the shoes tap the floor as John had probably slid them off. He may have taken off his shoes, but he practically stomped when he walked. His heavy footsteps moved from the entrance to the kitchen. I heard dishes being taken out of cabinets, and the fridge open.

John thought I was asleep. As far as he was concerned I still was. I was pissed off with him anyways. Before he was to figure out that I was awake and well, I was going to cool down. Hot tears streamed down my face.

The time ticked past. John had stopped moving and I could faintly hear the turning of pages. He was reading the paper. It was about 6:30 by now, right? He usually got the paper at 6 and read it at around 6:15. It was a daily ritual. Except for yesterday. Yesterday was a break in the ritual. I decided I wasn't going to lay here for hours. I was going to get up and be less bored.

I stretched and groaned a little.  Score moving to the bathroom to look in the mirror to see the damage of the sleepless night. The dark circles under my eyes spoke for themselves, then again I hadn't been sleeping properly for weeks. My face seemed as though it was going to be permanently red, and my eyes were to be puffy for good.

I debated putting on some sort of makeup to cover the darkness under my eyes, but I just figured I'd be crying again later so I didn't bother. I put on some clothes before heading downstairs to see John sitting at his chair. His glasses slid down his nose a little as he read. I smiled a little at my husband. The man I had fallen for. The man who had shattered my heart.

"Good morning John." I smiled at him before heading to the kitchen to make some tea.

"Good morning y/n." John didn't look up from his paper. Safe to say he didn't see the look of insomnia that I held.

"What time did you get home last night, I would have waited opus for you but I was just too tired I'm sorry."

"Oh I came home sometime around 11." Right. 11 o'clock. Totally. I heard you march in the house at 5:30. But I held my tongue.

I drank my tea hastily. Placing my cup in the sink and heading to the door. I slipped on my shoes and grabbed my coat. Opening the door and walking out. No words wondering where I was going at 7 in the morning. I never had places to be.

-time Skip brought to you by early Beatles music-

My hand knocked on the door. I was hoping that Paul was awake. The door opened up to me staring face to face with Paul. He smelled of aftershave and he was dressed in grey plaid pajama pants, a white T-shirt with a brown robe over him. He held a cup of tea in his hand. He looked surprised to see me so early.

"Y/n. Good morning. You alright?" I didn't say anything as he moved aside for me to come in. I went directly to the couch. I sat down to try to wrap my head around everything.

"He didn't come home until 5:30 this morning." I looked at Paul. "He said he came home at 11. Paul I didn't sleep at all." The tears came. Not strong as I was running out of them. My eyes burned. I was tired and sad. That combo didn't mix.

Paul wrapped his arms around me. "Everything is going to be okay."

"How do you know that?"

"Because it always is. Everything will come out okay in the end. And you'll be happy. Everyone should turn out happy. And if you aren't happy, it's not over yet. It will happen. You'll be happy." He held me close. His rested his head on mine and rocked slightly. I felt a little better but the tears still flowed. John Lennon wasn't happy with me. And obviously I wasn't happy with the situation. I needed to be happy. I will end up happy. Right?

I wrote the happy thing when I was upset. Kinda hits deep. Sad me is smart 😅. Anyway, Paul is turning 79 in a couple hours as I'm writing this. I'm a little sad that I wasn't more coordinated and I don't have a ready Paul chapter.

Happy Birthday Paul. Enjoy your special day.

Stay Lovely 😊