⇾ 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 | 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐈

Chapter Fifty-One: Absutely Nothing is Wrong (Why Would Anything Be Wrong?)

December 25, 1961

"Donna, you...you what?" John asked, shocked.

I stopped crying for a moment and pulled away. Had I really said that?

"Did I—?" I stuttered. He looked shocked. I rubbed my eyes furiously. "I-I'm sorry," I said. "I-I'm sorry if it's sudden."

He went into a frenzy. "No, no, no," he scrambled to say. "No, Donna, I—."

I sat down against the building. He crouched in front of me. "Donna, I-I love you too," he stammered. I'd never seen him so flustered in my life.

I smiled, despite my puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. He smiled at me too. Then, he lowered himself next to me and I leaned into his side, tired, and he began to sing lightly.

"Ooh, ain't she sweet? / Well, see her walking down that street / Yes, I ask you very confidentially / Ain't she sweet?"

"I'm such a mess," I said with a laugh.

He shook his head. "No, you're not."

Clive stumbled out of the building next to us. When he saw us, he sighed, noticed my tears, and finally just looked plain confused. "Donna? Are you okay?"

I looked at John amusedly. Oh, Clive, I thought. I'm sickeningly alright. I nodded. "I'm fine."

He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and then dug in his pocket for a lighter, finally sighing frustratedly as he realized he didn't have one.

"Need a lighter?" John asked.

Clive looked at him and nodded pleadingly. John chuckled and I sat up so he could fish one from his jacket pocket. He handed it to Clive and Clive gave him a thankful smile.

"I like you, John," he said and I could tell he was still tipsy from earlier.

John laughed. "Do you? What's to like about me?"

I rolled my eyes and Clive looked at John again, confused. "Where are you staying?" he asked.

John shrugged. "I can find a hotel somewhere."

Clive frowned. "That's no good," he said. "Just stay at our house. No one's gonna care." He waved his hand, putting the cigarette between his lips.

"No, no, no, I'm fine," said John quickly. "I don't want to be a burden."

Clive looked at him, annoyed. "You wouldn't be one. You can just stay with Donna, I'm sure." He shrugged.

John looked at him, surprised. I snorted. "No, really, I'm...I can find somewhere," John stammered, suddenly choked up.

"Suit yourself."

December 26, 1961

Spoiler alert: Queenie didn't let John stay in a hotel. She promptly told him to stay with us so sternly that, quite bluntly, everyone was just too scared to interject.

He started on the floor in Brian and I's room, but halfway through the night, we decided we were cold, and we woke up tangled together.

When I woke up from a restless, and almost sleepless, night, I was confused. Everything that had happened was a blur. I could only half remember John showing up. All I could clearly remember was watching Brian topple over. I frowned before I rolled over to find something to wear. Today was supposed to be the day we were going home, but that clearly wouldn't pan out as we'd hoped.

I pulled out a pair of jeans and a sweater and pulled myself up.

"Love," I heard John mumble.

"Yes?" I asked warily.

"Don't leave," he said. "I'm cold."

I sighed. "That's never gonna work, John."

He frowned. "At least a little, itty-bitty hug?" he asked teasingly.

I rolled my eyes and moved next to him.

"Yay," he said happily as he wrapped his arms around me.

"I hate you," I said with a laugh.

"Really?" he asked. "Last time I checked you lo—." I put my finger to his lips and went to stand up.

"I'm cold and it's all your fault," he whined as I went to leave. I made my way to the bathroom and changed quickly, making my way out to the kitchen to find Queenie and Harry day at the table. They had a little teapot between them and they sat sipping on some of the beverage, Harry reading the newspaper and Queenie staring out the window absently.

I stood in the door awkwardly a moment before Queenie spotted me and smiled, motioning for me to sit down next to her.

"So, Donna," she asked politely. "How long have you been with John?"

I saw Harry lower the newspaper barely and bat an eyebrow at me, before to reading today's headline.

"Uh, well—." I paused. "I met him back in August," I explained. "But we just started officially dating a week or so ago."

"Ah," she said. "Playing the waiting game?" She winked and I laughed.

"No," I said. "He had to go off to Germany with his band, so we decided it wouldn't be worth it to start anything right before he had to leave."

She nodded. "Smart choice, that is." She chuckled and returned her gaze to the window. A moment later, Clive appeared behind us.

"Morning," he said vaguely.

"Morning," I said meekly, awkwardly.

"So," he said, taking a cup out of the cabinet to pour himself some tea. "What's in the paper, Dad?"

Harry tossed the paper to Clive as he sat down, standing up to leave. "Have a look." He walked his cup over to the sink and rinsed it out before disappearing into the living area.

"We'll be going to get Brian at noon," said Queenie with a smile, standing up to follow Harry.

"Well," I said.

Clive looked at me skeptically. "Well?"

I shrugged, my cheeks turning pink. "I'm not sure what I thought I was going to say," I squeaked, and it was my turn to leave. I went back towards the room I'd slept in and opened the door without thinking. I yelped lightly and fell back out when I saw John changing. Thank God he hadn't gotten past his pants.

"Donna?" Clive asked, coming up behind me. I turned to him, wide-eyed, and he eyed me curiously. "What's—?"

"Absolutely nothing is wrong," I answered quickly, going back to the kitchen and pouring some tea. "Why would anything be wrong?"