A/N: Little bit of a short bridge chapter here, but it's necessary. I promise the chapter after this will begin the... downfall. *rubs hands together* Also here to tell you that normal updates will now officially be on Tuesdays, since school exists and I have a stricter schedule.
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The cab was quiet aside from the conversation going on inside. Their faces were only lit by the moonlight, night taking over a few hours ago. Two of the passengers in the back of the car regarded each other with a friendly temper, however, the thoughts floating in their head would have said otherwise.
"So I was wondering," Yoko spoke to John, looking at him in the darkness, "why'd you shave the facial hair? It looks nice shaven, by the way."
John was silent for a while before his lighthearted response came.
"I like variety, y'know."
Though he couldn't see her face in the poorly lit seat, she nodded to herself, realizing now that the cab was approaching her home. A few moments of empty silence passed before they arrived in front of Yoko's door, the street empty.
"I'll walk you outside," John said acknowledging where they were. Yoko nodded, exiting the cab to her front steps. They walked in silence with a quiet lingering tension, wondering what their relationship was, not to the media, but to them. They stopped in front of her door, looking at each other with a silent regard.
"Thanks for the dinner," she said, finding a form of breaking the ice.
"Yeah well.... You're welcome."
The two of them looked at each other, but held different thoughts in their head. Yoko expected something more. John expected her goodbyes. Both of them stood there waiting.
Their thoughts were silenced when Yoko looked up to John, closing the gap between them with a kiss. It wasn't passionate or sensual in any way. Her kiss was a desperate plead- a plead that John failed to answer when his lips stood unmoving. She pulled away quickly, searching John's eyes for an answer, receiving a cold stare in response.
"Sorry," John said, unsure what his apologies were for.
"John, I... What are we? A few months ago we were clinging for each other, now I don't even hear from you."
"I-I don't," he trailed off, looking at the ground, "I... I love him, Yoko. I don't want to damage that."
They both understood who the person in question was.
"Are you sure that's what you want, John? You can be free with me. You've already gone and fucked him, it's time to come back."
Her persistence went on when John's silence was apparent.
"Are you sure that's the life you want, John? There's nothing wrong with it, but it's not a nice life to live."
Her words burned deep, his own thoughts revealing to say the same thing. Everything she said was true, he was hiding. But it was worth it, the fact that he could still fall back into Paul's arms at the end of the day. Loving him was worth the strife, despite what the logic in him screamed.
Now with wide eyes, he looked at her with determination, standing by his own thoughts. He leaned close to her face, and for a second she had thought she'd won. When his lips touched her cheek instead of her expectant mouth, she frowned in disappointment.
"G'night, Yoko," he said after pressing his icy lips to her face. Making sure not to look her in the eye, he walked away in confidence back to the cab.
Yoko stood on the steps, watching as the automobile drove away, leaving her alone in the darkness.
~*~
Five in the morning was an ungodly hour to John; he figured that if the sun wasn't up yet, people shouldn't be up either. That's why when he heard the phone blast next to his bed at that time, he grumbled in agitation. Whoever was calling him must sure have a lot of balls.
He rose from his bed with a mess of hair, stretching his toes after a deep sleep. Grabbing the telephone seemed like a vigorous exercise in his state. He cleared his throat in a half cough and half grumble as he put his ear onto the phone.
"Hello?" He spoke into the receiver with a garbled voice. He surprised himself that he could keep his composure despite how aggravate he was.
"Hello, John... It's me."
Aggravation turned into disbelief, which then turned into shock. The woman's voice on the other line made him freeze in his place, concerned that the woman was who he suspected it was. His eyes grew wide in accordance with his appall, and his mouth struggled to ask her name.
"C-Cynthia?"
For a second he thought the silence on the other line was an indication to her absence, almost relieved at the prospect. But the tired breathing he heard over the line confirmed that the woman was there in silence.
"I'm sorry you haven't heard from me... It's just...."
"No! I understand Cyn, y'know. I'm the one who should be apologizing."
On the other side of the conversation, Cynthia hesitated, unsure if this call was the right thing to do.
"I know that this is a bit haste... and that I probably should have called sooner, but I think I've-I've come to terms with what's been, and that Julian shouldn't have to go on without seeing his father."
John bit his lip in frustration, his heart pounding incessantly against his ribcage.
"So what does that mean... for me?"
"I think," she sighed nervously, "perhaps you can start seeing him again. Maybe a visit or something."
John considered her words to himself before beginning his next proposition.
"Can I talk to him?"
"He's asleep now."
"Oh."
For a few moments longer, a tense silence lingered between the two before Cynthia spoke again.
"You'll see him soon John...I've got to go, okay? I'll talk to you soon."
"Cyn, just... tell him I love him, alright?"
Another silence found its way into their conversation, and then Cynthia sighed before speaking her final words.
"Goodbye, John."
The phone hung up, leaving him alone with nothing but his thoughts. There was a chance he could see his son again, a chance that his son won't just be the absent father that he dreaded to be. Talking to Cynthia had left him restless, thinking about how such a quick moment could affect him.
He smiled to himself as he fell back onto his bed, a mix of anxiousness, anticipation, and fear filling up taking over his thoughts. Then he remembered that it was five in the morning, and that he should probably get some sleep. With all of everything loitering in his mind, it was hard to put himself to rest.
Shifting in his bed, he stared at the ceiling in quiet contemplation. Did Cynthia forgive him? Would Paul be able to see Julian too? After all, Julian was quite fond of Paul... but it was still all so uncertain. Cynthia and him weren't even officially divorced, which is something he should probably take care of.
He didn't know what to do about everything right there and then, all he did was look at his clock, which made him remember that he should probably close his eyes. With a quiet and final sigh, he let himself fall into a dreamless sleep.
YOU ARE READING
How to Change the World
RomanceThe 1960's: a time notable for its racism, sexism, and change. However, homosexuality was off limits, seen as unanimously unethical and abnormal by the general population. That was until 1966, when people began to acknowledge the existence of this...