Beatles Imagines

34. John (requested) p.1

I looked up from the table and scoured my surroundings, searching for familiar faces. But alas, I saw no signs of any person that I knew. I ran a hand through my hair out of anxious habit, before sipping on my wine. I felt foolish, waiting for friends whilst I sat and waited like a lost puppy.

I could feel eyes on me, but I didn't mind the curious gazes of others. Not as much as I minded the poor waiter who kept coming back to my table every five minutes to either ask if the rest of my party would be attending or if he could top off my wine. The first question I didn't have a definite answer to, but I could definitely answer the second question.

It was my birthday. I was expecting my friends to join me for dinner. But by the minute hand which moved torturously slow, I knew they must've been preoccupied. Or they forgot. Or they didn't care. Perhaps it was all three combined.

At this rate, my trust in the ones I held dear to me withered. I drew in a shaky breath, placing my hand in my lap before it was noticeable that I was shaking.  The stares began to suffocate me.

As soon as I was about to ask the waiter for my check, the door to the restaurant opened. I exhaled with the last shed of hope that nobody had forgotten me.

Instead of a familiar face, my eyes settled on a suited man with brown hair and a look in the eyes which seemed filled with determination. Electricity sparked my insides; this man was terribly beautiful. He too looked around as though he were lost. It felt as though he were out of his element.

His pink lips drew out a small breath as he frantically glanced around the restaurant in search of somebody. I wondered who he was meeting: a fiancé, a friend perhaps?

Suddenly, we made eye contact. I found my efforts to breathe futile as he gave me a small nod in acknowledgement. I was about to look away until I noticed he had begun to walk. My heart lept to my throat as I saw him approach me. All I could think about was how his eyes glittered under the dimmed lights. I clasped my hands together tightly and stared at him with wide eyes. I felt like I was in a trance.

He kept eyes on me whilst walking and I did the same. I was afraid that if I looked away he would be gone. I wouldn't be surprised if he was a dream or a figment of my imagination; he seemed too handsome to be true.

He walked towards me, confidence radiating off his body as he did so. I swallowed as he stopped at the opposite side of the table, gently placing his hand on it to catch my attention.

I blinked and cleared my throat.

"Hello." He smiled a small smile. "Sorry for disrupting your evening, but do you mind if I ask you question?"

"Yeah sure go ahead." I rushed out the words way too fast, and mentally disgraced myself for being so awkward in front of people I fancied.

"Do you know a Jillian McGreggor?"

I sighed inwardly at the mention of the name of one of the four people who had ruined my night. He must've saw my expression turn sour because he began to observe me intently.

"Yes I do." I nodded slightly, looking down towards the murky liquid in my wine glass. "She was supposed to meet me for dinner tonight."

He made a low humming sound in acknowledgement. "Are you the friend with the birthday?"

"Who are you again?" I questioned when I realized I was about to tell a complete stranger details of my life.

"Oh yes, I'm sorry. I should probably introduce myself. I'm John." He stuck a hand out for me to shake.

I smiled before bringing my hand up to his. Electricity shot up my spine when he touched me, and I retracted my hand rather fast. I took a sip of my wine, wondering why the hell I felt like this. I had never felt this way before around a person. Perhaps, I was sick or buzzed.

"Nice to meet you John." I gave him a quaint smile.

"I was supposed to be Jillian's date tonight, but it seems as though I didn't get the memo that she wasn't going to show."

"I didn't get the memo either." I feigned a smile, but I knew by the way my lips twitched that my expression showed nothing of happiness.

"Do you mind if I?" He pointed towards an empty chair.

I nodded.

"Well that's a shame." He propped an elbow on the table and let his hand lye near his head.

"I invited three other friends."

"Close?"

"I thought they were." I shrugged. "None of them showed. It's fine though, I suppose."

He pressed his lips together in contemplation. "That's rather odd. Have you tried ringing them? Maybe they're stuck in traffic."

"I doubt they are. They live rather close to here. They probably just forgot, after all they have big responsibilities like families and husbands. I didn't want to impose on their evenings by calling them. Plus, I don't know if I could handle to hear the truth."

"What about you? No children?"

I shook my head.

"No husband?"

I shook my head again. "I've been traveling recently, so I really haven't had the chance to settle down."

"I know how you feel." He shook his head before taking out a cigarette. He offered me one, and when I declined he placed the carton back into the pocket of his suit. "I've been traveling so much, and you know, people just expect me to settle down and have a family. How am I supposed to do that when I'm hopping from place to place all of the time? I'm only twenty four and these people make me feel like I'm going to die alone."

"We might. After all, we both got stood up tonight. What if this is the beginning of our journey to loneliness?"

"I doubt that." He looked me dead in the eyes, and I swear if I hadn't have been sitting my knees would've collapsed from under me. "Quite morbid, aren't you?"

I shrugged,replying in a playful manner. "I'd consider myself more of a realist, John."

"And what about optimism?"

"What about it?"

"Why aren't you an optimist?"

"Because I'm on my second glass of wine and my friends ditched me. Though, if you want a better answer, I guess it's because I think that optimists can be a little naive."

"So I'm naive?" He responded with a smirk playing on his lips, before taking a drag. I knew he was trying to get a reaction out of me, so I decided to play along.

"I haven't decided yet." I smiled, and stared at the finely crafted wine glass. "Want a sip?"

"Sure." He responded.

"I guess that means you're naive then." I slid the glass over to him, feeling triumphant.

"How?" He tilted his head to the side in amusement.

"Because you just took a drink from a stranger."

"Ah whatever." He waved me off, before bringing the glass up to his lips. "And even if I am naive, it's only when I'm blinded by beauty."