I'm Looking Through You // Mclennon

intoxication

My eyes were deeply fixated on the view of the urban life. The sky was a pale shade of grey as a light drizzle washed over the city.

     The fag sat in my hand was beginning to go out since I wasn't puffing off of it as much. Instead, my head was clouded over with way too many emotions. Too many to process all at once. My eyes glanced down at the burnt out cigarette before I relit it between my lips. Just as I did so, John came through his front door with paper bags in hand.

While I stayed at home and thought about everything that had occurred recently, he had gone out to the market to pick up some food that we could munch on for the rest of the week. I've only got but a handful of days left to stay here until the tour starts up, so that only adds to the immense amount of stress that I'm under. I mean, what will I do after this week? How will I face the band? How will I face Linda?

John set down the bags in his hand on the counter by the front door as he kicked off his wet shoes. He grinned over at me with his thin lips as I looked over at the man with pure and utter doe eyes.

I also made sure to put on my best smile in order to hopefully fool the man into believing that I'm A-okay.

"Oh, love, what's wrong?"

John ain't no fool.

My eyes widened as I finally put the cigarette out into the ashtray by the window. I stood up and approached the man slowy and yet casually.

"I'm fine, thank ye. How... How was the store?" I replied awkwardly, trying my hardest to start some sort of conversation that doesn't involve my emotions.

John tilted his head before replying, he could see right through my utter bullshit. "S'alright, Uh. ...Nothin' to write home abou', I suppose."

Although John and I had talked about this earlier today, there was obviously still some tension left between us. Tension that neither of us wanted to address.

John sighed, "Well, anyroad, I got some more wine and all that, if ye wanted a glass? Merlot, this time. ...Could ease yer nerves?"

I sat on a white barstool John had set up infront of the island in his kitchen. John was stood on the other side, taking out the food he had just bought.

I smiled, placing my head in my hand while still staring up at John, "Christ, that'd be lovely."

John let out a little laugh as he reached into his china cabinet, taking out two wine glasses and filling them about halfway with the red liquid. It gently poured into the cups just as the rain was pouring over the city, outside. The longer John was here with me, the more calm and at ease I felt.

The man handed me one of the glasses and readjusted the spectacles sat upon his nose. His eyes studied me nervously, yet he still maintained a smile.

We clanked the drinks together and began to sip. John finished all of his in just one gulp, but I made sure to take my time.

A few minutes went by and it was still quite obvious that something was bothering me. John attempted to start conversation, but I only remained silent. John picked my chin up with his fingers so that I'd have to look him in the eye. No other choice. This made me shake like a damn leaf under his touch.

"Seriously, Macca... What's the matter? Ye know that ye can always tell me what's buggin' ye. I really do love ye... and don't forget it."

"I know... I've jus been thinkin'." I replied.

"Ye were thinkin'? What a rarity, that one." John joked, causing me to laugh a little bit.

"Oh, piss off!" I giggled, pulling back, "Sometimes, Lennon, ye can be a real pain in the arse. ...Is it intentional?"

"Eh. Maybe. It's funny, watchin' ye get all worked up the way that ye do." He smiled, looking deeply into my eyes.

"...But, um, anyway. ...Seriously, jus everythin' wi' Linda and all that has really been eatin' at me, lately. ...I feel trapped." I confessed.

John caressed my cheek lovingly and then stroked my bottom lip, "Paul. Ye know that even wi' all the shite we may have to go through soon, I'll never leave yer side. Not again. Not like I did before."

"I know that, John, I'm jus bloody terrified! Do ye blame me?"

John filled his glass once more and then nonchalantly topped mine off, as well, "...I know," He spoke with a sigh, "But we can't be afraid, or else everythin' will be that much worse! It isn't helpful to worry."

I glanced down at the floor, "I mean... What will I do next week? When Wings starts tourin'?"

John ran his fingers through his hair, even he had no idea how to answer such a question.

Instead, he took my hands into his own and kissed my knuckles. I felt like some bird as he did this.

"Jus have some faith in me, alright?"

      John's tone seemed genuine.

"I'm here for ye, Macca."

My heart skipped a beat.

"I love ye. Wi' all me heart!"

I smiled, "I love ye too, John. I really do."

I made eye contact with the man once again. His eyes were glazed over and a bit red, probably from the alcohol. It was now clear to me the man is tipsy as all Hell.

"Tomorrow... Let's call Linda and tell her what's goin' on..." I suggested. John's eyes widened with fear.

"Yer bloody drunk." John laughed.

I rolled my eyes, "So are you."

"Oh, yeah? Do I make it so obvious?" He continued to make light of the situation. He then sighed and placed his hand over mine.

"...Paulie, ...are ye sure? I mean... She's yer wife! I don't wanna-"

       I kissed John's knuckles, just as he did to me earlier, "...Yeah, ...I'm, uh, I'm sure."

John stayed silent for a moment, presumably taking in all he had just heard. "Alright... if that's what ye think is best. I'll trust it. I reckon there's nothin' I can say that will change yer mind, anyroad."

I know it's the best choice for us. I know that I won't be at ease until Linda knows about John and I. I just can't bloody deal with this blanket of ice over my chest any longer. We'll all figure it out, right? Linda and I will figure it out.

John and I will be okay in the end.

Things are looking up.

After a little while of talking amongst one another at the kitchen counter, sipping away at our wine, John and I stumbled back into the master bedroom together.
Not to worry, I'll spare you the details this time.