If I Fell│John Lennon/Beatles FanFiction

Chapter 2 - 25.Feb.1960

Chapter 2

February 25, 1960

"You got another cig?" I asked while batting my eyelashes.

John now sat across from me while the other two boys worked on getting George a bird for the night...a birthday present of sorts. I'd rarely seen George's cheeks burn so bright red as they pulled him in the dance floor's direction with only one goal in mind.

"Maybe." John leaned back and stretched his arms out beside him. His fingers drummed against the wooden booth. A casual smile pulled at his lips. He looked handsome—not that I would ever tell him. His ego didn't need any more inflating. The sides of his hair were slicked back and the top a bit of a fluffy mess. He kept running his fingers through it as if trying to perfect the mess.

I narrowed my eyes. "Give it, John."

"Was thinkin' you might say 'Oh, please dearest John I need another cig to suck down to ease my sorrows.'" He leaned toward me, his light brown eyes twinkling despite the poor lighting.

I gripped my third pint before raising it to my lips and taking a long swig. "How 'bout somethin' more like, 'Give me a fuckin' cig so I don't go slappin' yet another face today.'"

"That's a good one, too." He took a sip of his own drink, continuing to mess with me. "But not exactly what I was lookin' for. Cigs aren't cheap, y'know."

Redness crept into my cheeks as my blood boiled for the second time in a single day. "Fuckin' hell, come off it, John. You're being a proper wanker."

"Bloody calm down, Liv." He reached his hand into his jeans pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, shoving the entire pack in my direction. "Have 'em all for all I care. Just find something to settle you down."

With shaky hands, I pulled two cigs out of the pack, offering one to John. He eyed me carefully as he took the cigarette and waited for a light. I lit both of the cigs and then took a long drag, coughing a bit as the smoke filled my lungs.

"Take it easy, will ya?" he said, a crease forming in his brow. "You sound like you've never smoked a cig before."

I shrugged. "Haven't in a while." My eyes fell to the table as I inhaled slowly. I thought I'd been able to bury my rotten mood, but the drinks mixed with the cigarettes were proving to only agitate me more.

John was staring by the time I lifted my eyes. And he looked at me for several silent moments before sighing. "You know you'll be all right, don't you? Fuck Harry. Fuck that arsehole who touched you," John said, finding a moment to be serious. I was well versed in all the sides of John, and rarely did he bring out the compassion in public. "Did ye get his name? I'd love to get him well acquainted with me fist."

I really tried not to smile, but I couldn't help it. My lips spread into a grin. "I took care of him, John. No need to call for back up."

He nodded slowly, but the more serious look on his face didn't disappear like I thought it would. "Thought fighting and the lot was my thing."

I chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. What was he so worried about? "I didn't get into a fight."

"You look like you're out for blood tonight, Livvy," he said, his voice low. "It's not like you."

I rubbed the back of my neck. "Well, I'm not, all right? So drop it."

He simply nodded, for once deciding not to continue pushing me.

"Where's Cyn tonight?" I asked, shaking my head, changing the subject. I liked John's bird, though I was never really sure if the feeling was mutual.