𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 (𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴)

❛❛chapter forty: he's got me❜❜

My eyes had started to flutter open after hearing a clattering noise from the hall. I assumed it was probably some other person in the building. I didn't really care, so instead, I turned my attention back to a shirtless John. My head was on top of his arm which was surely asleep by now. I could only imagine the tingling sensation it would have when he woke up. I knew he wasn't fond of that feeling after the multiple times he'd complained about his foot falling senseless. He'd always say it was like he was getting pricked with a thousand hornet's arses. I think he was quite dramatic; it was uncomfortable at most. I almost wanted to move my head to avoid his whinging. Though I knew if I moved, it would wake him up since his head my buried in my neck. I could feel his hot breath creep across my collar, raising a few hairs on my arms. So I just stayed where I was, deciding the longer he was asleep meant there would be more time till I'd hear his complaints.

I took in a deep breath at my revelation, accidentally getting a good whiff of him too. He smelt like a pub, but in a good way, or the very few good ways there were. Or maybe more like my mom but more masculine? It was really hard to say. Cause there were hints of tobacco, beer, and sweat, but there was something calming like baby powder or cinnamon. It would make sense if it were baby powder since his chest was so soft. God. Maybe that's what it is. John Lennon uses baby powder? I wanted to laugh, but I just smiled hard instead. A few sharp breaths left my mouth where my giggles would've been, which almost made it harder to keep from laughing. I couldn't believe that he would use baby powder. I took another sniff to see if I was right about that smell. It was faint but there. I went in for a third, but at this point, my brain was so convinced it wouldn't have mattered. A chuckle escaped my mouth by accident, which made John groan softly. I stiffened up quickly like it would help him from waking up, but he luckily didn't.

"John!" I heard someone call out from the hall.

My eyebrows furrowed. Who would be calling for him at this hour? Some idiot, that's who. I closed my eyes for a moment as I thought seriously. Then in an instant, my brain decided to wake up. Oh shit. Cynthia. Of course, it was. I should've known before since I heard them in the hall. I forgot that this whole floor was private. I felt so stupid, but my mind's motors were running on auto-pilot. I really wished that I'd been dreaming. I mean, it was possible since this is something I'd stress dream about. But it was too realistic to be one of my fantasies. I started to lift, slowly waking up John as I did so. He scrunched up his face like he'd smelled something bad. His lashes started to flap to where you could begin to see the hazel oasis of his sweet, tired eyes. They instantly made contact with mine, and then he opened his mouth to say something. I slapped my hand over his lips quickly, unsure if Cyn could hear he was in here. I opened my eyes wide as if warning him, then darted them over to the door. I tried to hint at him, and I think he got it since I could feel his mouth close. I mouthed, 'Cyn,' and his lips formed an 'o' shape. He lifted his wrist up to his face to look at the time, quickly realizing he couldn't read a thing, and frowned.

"John!" I heard Paul yell this time.

Maybe they were worried about him since he wasn't in his bed. I could imagine Cynthia walking into an empty bedroom and immediately panicking. I could see myself doing that too. So she probably got the lads to help her look. Suddenly I heard a knock at my door or more of a pounding. I snapped my head in that direction, worried as if the door would fall off its hinges. I knew (or actually hoped) that it wasn't Cynthia since she wouldn't knock like that. I looked back down at John, expecting he knew what to do. He shrugged and snuggled back into the pillow. I hit his arm, annoyed at his nonchalant behavior.

"LIZA!" Who I prayed was Paul banged on the door.

It sounded exactly like him, but I wasn't one hundred percent sure.