The Beatles Imagines ❤️

| John |

Waking up and feeling John's arms around Emery was the best feeling she could ever experience.
Sadly, today, when she woke up, she would not experience this feeling.
Emery sat up, confused when she saw John, curled up, his hair and shirt damp, squeezing his eyes shut. He looked very uncomfortable in this state.
"John? John, are you ok, love?" Emery asked him concernedly, running her hand from the tip of his hairline all the way down to the base of his neck.
"Um-I think so." John rubbed his face with his hands.
"You think so? John, I think you have a fever, sweetheart." Emery told him, laying him down so his head was in her lap.

"No, I'm fine. I have to go to the studio today, anyways. We're adding another song to A Hard Day's Night." John reminded her, sitting up in bed slowly.

He held his head in his hand, resting his elbow on his thigh as his eyes fluttered closed once again.

"I'll call Paul and tell him you're ill. You need to stay in bed today, Johnny." Emery advised him, reaching over to the bedside table and picking up the phone, twirling the cord absently in her fingers as she rotated the phone to dial Paul.

"Hello?" Paul answered slightly groggily, like he was just starting his day.

"Mornin' Paulie. Sorry, did I wake you?" Emery asked him, feeling guilty.

"Not really, Em. I woke up about 5 minutes ago." Paul answered. You could tell he was grinning by his tone of voice.

"Oh, ok. Well, I just wanted to let you know that John here won't be coming into the studio to record today. Unfortunately, he is a little sick." Emery looked over at John, who was glaring at Emery with bloodshot eyes. He still looked cute, though, even amid his sickness.

"Shite, that's not good. Tell John to feel better. I guess I'll have to write a hit without him." Paul muttered cheekily.

"Paul, shut up. Goodbye. Have a nice day." Emery told him sternly.

"Ta ra, Em." Paul responded.

Emery grinned, much to her dislike, and put the phone back in it's place, turning to face John, who was, of course, still glaring at her.

"I need to work. I have music I need to write." John protested.

"What? You're sick. Want to get the others sick too? Not poor George, at least. Remember he couldn't even go to Hamburg at first because he was ill? You don't want him to have to miss another show, do you?" Emery asked him softly but with a little harshness as well, crossing her arms.

John sighed. "No."

"That's what I thought. Now come here, you bloke." Emery held her arms out.

John gave her a slight smile and crawled into Emery's arms, resting his head on her chest.

"Would you like some medicine? Or tea? Whatever you need, love." Emery said to him, running her hands through his hair and playing with it softly, making John's eyes shut again.

"Just need to lay here with you for now, Em. Thank you." John murmured, wrapping his arms around Emery's waist and laying on his side, pulling Emery with him.

"Get some rest, John." Emery told John as she played with his hair softly.

"Ok. I love you." He croaked

"Love you too. So much." Emery smiled softly.