Maggie Mae and her John Lennon (Complete)

Chapter 3

Dusting off the fireplace, Maggie covered her mouth as a sneeze brought on from the dust left her. Honestly, she wasn't sure what she was going to do tomorrow for work because she pretty much had cleaned every room in the small house. Every room except..... Shite.

Pinching the bridge of her nose and sighed, realizing that John's bedroom was the only room she hadn't dusted.  If she waited until the next day that would mean ruining sleep and  her morning with the idea of being terrorized by John.

  Her father, a man whose tall stature matched how large his heart was,  always told her to face her fears head on, and that courage was not the absence of fear, but ether the judgement that something else was more important than fear. She lived by those words, but he hadn't met John Lennon.

More than likely he wouldn't want to.

  Approaching the dreaded bedroom, she paused as she stood before it, listening to the guitar strumming and soft singing coming from inside. He actually had a good voice, lovey even and she pressed her ear against the door to hear him better.

"Well, the judge he guilty found her of robbin' a homeward bounder that dirty robbin' no good-" Scrunching her nose in distaste at the lyrics, she chose that moment to knock, interrupting his serenity.

"John are you decent?" She called through the door and here was the sound of some shuffling on his end.

"That depends on whether you want me to be or not?" He cackled and she rolled her eyes "Yeah, come in." Bracing herself, she prepared for the sight of a pigsty to match the borish boy who lived in there.

  However, she was somewhat pleasantly surprised, not that she'd let him see it. John's room was pretty tidy, a few clothes here and there, sheets of paper littered his desk. Said boy, sat on his bed, his guitar in his lap, which he strummed occasionally as he watched her.

   Much like a stalking lion.

   Well two could play at that game.

Loosening her shoulders, Maggie swayed her hips enough to make it noticeable to John, but not enough for him to realize she was doing it on our purpose. With a sudden burst of courage, she crouched on the ground, moving the dust rag back and forth while quietly humming.

  She could hear John adjusting in his chair and smirked, bending over deeply and felt her skirt ride up. Christ if she didn't have a angle for doing this she would have never dared to do such actions. Standing back up, she moved towards the window, still avoiding John's gaze that she could practically feel burning into her back.

She ran the duster across the window pane corners and finally John, schooling's her features into one of obvious innocence to what her actions were doing.

"Im sorry, is my presence...distracting you?" She asked leaning on the wall,  cocking her hip to the right and crossed her arms.

   John's cheeks flushed a deep red and he scowled, grumbling under his breath  and began tuning his guitar. Maggie turned back around with a satisfied smirk.

The John Lennon at a loss of words?

John ignored her for he remainder of her cleaning, only pausing in his tuning when Maggie turned to leave the room.

"Mimi's gonna be home late tonight. Would you like to listen to a new song I wrote?" John asked and she couldn't believe it: shyly.

  Maggie blinked shocked at the lack of a cocky smirk or a crude gesture.

  "Um... sure...I just have to take out the laundry and hang it." John nodded and turned back to his notebook set on the desk and she took that as her cue to leave.

What did that boy have up his sleeve.....?