⇾ 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 | 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐈

Chapter Ninety-One: Privacy Officially Invaded

September 5, 1962

"If I have to get in another car, I think I'll puke," I said bluntly to John the next morning as we were piling back into Brian's van to go to a diner before heading back home to Liverpool.

"Well, I suspect you won't be traveling the next time we have to?" John replied inquisitively.

I shrugged, still groggy from the sleeping pills that were still wearing off. The later we went to bed, I'd learned, the longer into the morning they lasted, which made sense. Since they put you to sleep, I always found it hard, even when they were wearing off, to go about my day. The grogginess that they left behind made me loopy and John always kept a tight grip around me to keep me from toppling over.

"If Brian let's me, I will, I guess," I replied.

He nodded. "That's good, then?"

I bobbed my head happily. "I love to hear you all. It really sets my mind at ease." I hesitated before adding jokingly, "When there's not strange men distracting me."

John gave a very sad attempt at a laugh. That situation seemed to still be a touchy topic. I was hoping it wouldn't be by now.

John and I climbed to the back of the vehicle. Paul fought his way into the front seat next to Brian, and Ringo and George grudgingly climbed into the middle row. I saw Brian glance quickly at John and I through the mirror before returning his attention to the car, turning it on. I pulled a notebook out of my bag and leaned against John, wrapping myself in a blanket, and began to write anything that came to mind.

I could feel John watching my careful hands over my shoulder as he talked to the others. I didn't know what I was writing down, really. It wasn't in any particular order; just words and phrases I thought I could organize into something later. John always found this a fun game. He'd often provide input of his own, adding phrases and changing orders. I'd jokingly scold him for snooping and he'd do his regularly innocent surrendering, giggling maniacally when my mouth formed a tight smile.

"Put that there," he said, as if on cue, pointing to two lines I'd jotted down and then after a stanza I'd pieced together.

I looked up at him with a frown and he winked before returning his attention to his three friends in front of him.

~~~

"What time do you play the Cavern?"

John looked down at me, thinking for a moment, then looked at his watch. "Six," he answered and put his arms back around me, pulling me closer to him.

I looked around absently at his room, noting the guitar case leaning against his doorframe, the ukulele thrown on the desk, his jacket strewn down messily. The room smelled like him, a homely scent.

"How've you been sleeping recently, love?" asked John.

I shrugged. "Fine, I guess."

"Well," he said, looking around. "Have you slept easier?"

I nodded. "I guess so. I don't wake up as much."

He smiled. "That's awesome, then?"

"I dunno; maybe it was happening for a reason," I replied amusedly.

"And what might that reason be?"

"Maybe I am getting punished for being a disappointment."

"Yer gonna pay for that one, love." He gave his most intimidating smirk and went to kiss me on the mouth. I dove out of the way at the last minute. I moved to my knees as I watched him topple onto the bed pitifully.

I giggled. "Gonna have to be faster than that, Lennon."

He flopped onto his back and pulled me on top of him jokingly. "Oh, I can be a hundred miles faster, love. I should be. You've been bad, calling yourself that. Bad girls get punishment."

I raised my eyebrows challengingly. "Is that so?"

I barely caught his smirk before he forced his lips onto mine, not taking me off guard in the slightest.

I whimpered slightly as his lips began to trail downward and his hands crept towards the hemline of my dress. They were dangerously close when an echoing knock on the front door, heard all through the house, nearly sent us apart.

"They'll go away," he said against my lips hopefully.

George, Paul, and Ringo didn't wait for a reply. We heard the door open and I jumped away from him quickly, straightening my hair out and placing myself on the edge of the bed like nothing had happened.

"Bloody fuckin' hell," John yelled, falling back defeatedly.

They bounded up into John's room, Paul falling into John's desk chair without a word, though we didn't miss the smirk he gave us. John was still sprawled across the bed, his lips hinting at annoyance. I'm sure I looked as guilty as I felt. The others' amused expressions told me they could see straight through us. I didn't even really care at this point. They'd never stop. I'd given up hope of privacy a long time ago.

John sat up and scooted over towards me, straddling me from behind and wrapping his arms around my waist. I saw the other three roll their eyes in perfect unison, but I settled back in his embrace.

"Next time I don't come to the door, get the hint and don't come in," said John flatly, ignoring them.

"Sooorry, John," Paul replied in a high-pitched, teasing voice. "Where's Mimi, anyways? I don't think she'd approve, y'know." He raised his eyebrows tauntingly.

I blushed, looking down shamefully to hide it. "She's out somewhere," replied John. "Didn't really tell me...or maybe I just didn't hear." He shrugged. "Wait, why are you here?"

"Because, we're going to NEMS. Remember—?" Paul pointed to his head jokingly. "Brian called us down there before we ran off earlier."

John thought a moment before shaking his head. "I don't think I recall that, but I don't pay attention very well, so I don't really know."

"So we've learned," George replied. "He wants to meet us in fifteen minutes, so we figured we'd come to get you so we can go on down together."

"Seems that was a good idea, then? I wouldn't have showed up." John replied, swinging his legs from around me and landing on the floor, reaching for his jacket.

"Well, c'mon, then!" he said, gesturing for us all to join him, which we did.