I'm Looking Through You // Mclennon

innocence

"John." I choked up, my eyes still staring down at his damp lips.

"Yeah, Macca?" He replied while pursing them.

"Why did ye have to do that?" I hesitated to ask, but finally stuttered out.

He laughed, "Pardon?"

My chest felt incredibly heavy. Why the Hell did I just do that?! ...Why did I allow that to happen?! I should have slapped the man's hand off of my face and left this flat immediately thereafter. I'm always sticking my nose in things that I've got no business involving myself in. It's a bad habit I've developed over the years, I guess.
Fuck. I should have left. I should have left.

But I didn't. I only kissed him back. I allowed this all to happen. I started something that I'm not sure I can finish.

A part of me wanted to scream at myself, but... a part of me also really enjoyed it. I can't lie and say that I fully regret this happening; I enjoyed it. I want to do it again.

John awkwardly kept his gaze held at the floor.

     "Ah... I'm really sorry, Macca, I-" He laughed in disbelief with himself. "I don't know what the fuck I was thinkin'. I'm sorry... I'm sorry." He kept apologizing over and over.

     He wasn't even looking back at me, so I took my chance. I pushed his hair out of his face just as he did mine earlier this morning and practically tackled the man, kissing him even more deeply. More passionately than before. He gave in pretty much immediately and kissed me with just as much ecstasy and feeling as I. I dragged my tongue against his bottom lip, just to catch him a bit off-guard. Maybe to make a point, I'm not exactly sure. I then pushed him up against the side of the window until he pulled away, with a reddened face and eyes full of pure affection.

Once I pulled away, John took in a deep
breath.

"Blast from the past, ...ain't it?" He emphasized the "t" in "it" and chuckled while speaking, running his fingers through his hair.

"It is..." I said under my breath. I then stood up from the window and flipped the record that was now skipping.

John only watched me, still sat at the window. "Everythin' alright?"

"Yeah." I replied coldly. "Why wouldn't it be?"

John looked out the window and bit his nails. He stayed silent for a bit, as did I.

"Look, Paul, let's not be coy." John turned to me, speaking with his hands. "We've got a lot to sort out. But I think that ye and I both know how I feel abou' ye."

I tilted my head, "Yeah, Johnny? And what's that?"

"I still love ye. I think that's blatantly obvious to anyone."

The words leaving his mouth could pierce you right in the heart, I swear it.

"John-" I wanted to speak, but it was so difficult to find the right words.

"I ain't daft either, Macca, I know ye came here for a good reason." John interrupted.

"I did... I- I just know there's so much left unsaid between us and-"

"Then let's talk abou' it!" John then stood up and took my hands in his, squeezing them a bit.

There was more silence between us, which I think the two of us are quite used to, now.

"I've also been dreamin' abou' ye."

John tilted his head, "'Have ye? Really? Sure it ain't the pot talkin'?"