If I Fell│John Lennon/Beatles FanFiction

Chapter 8 - 14.May.1960

Chapter 8

May 14, 1960

The evening had turned a bit misty, and there was a chill in the air. I pulled my jacket out of my bag and sighed before placing it over Catherine's bare skin rather than my own.

Someone sat beside me. "Whaterya doin'?"

I jumped and almost shrieked, my brain automatically assuming the worst. I whirled around, my mouth gaping. "Bloody hell, John."

"Whaterya doin'," he asked again as his light brown eyes peered down at Catherine. He almost looked amused. Almost.

"What's it look like I'm doin'?" I asked, my voice strained. I sounded a bit like a petulant child. Why in the hell was I mad at him? I shouldn't have been.

"Looks like you've got a corpse snoring on yer lap."

I nearly laughed. "I don't think she's quite dead yet." I poked her, and she didn't move. "Maybe soon."

He turned his gaze forward, and moved to light a cig. His black leather jacket hugged his shoulders as he leaned forward, his eyes peeking at me. "Why'd you have Paul tell me you'd left?"

"Didn't want to be a bother."

The cigarette smoldered at the end as he took a deep drag. "It's not a bother."

"You looked like you were havin' fun," I said as I leaned back and rubbed my tired eyes.

He turned to face me and removed the cigarette from his lips before speaking. "You don't go home alone. It's that simple."

"I'm not alone." I pointed at Catherine as her arm flopped from my lap to the ground.

"Don't be fuckin' daft," he scolded and shook his head in my general direction. "Sometimes, Liv, you've gotta think. Just bloody think. Use that pretty head of yours, wouldya?"

"You can't walk me home the rest of me life, John. It's not possible. It's not realistic." I refused to make eye contact. "I've gotta get over this one day, and I didn't realize she was this pissed, did I?"

"George was proper frightened of her." John smirked as he pointed toward Catherine. She mumbled something incoherent from her alcohol-induced sleep. "Where'd you find this gem?"

"Found her on me way here, just sitting on the side of the street. She looked like right fun, so I brought her with." I pressed my lips together to keep my expression serious.

"Just like you, picking up strangers on the street." He stared at me as he took another long drag of his half-smoked cig. "You're a proper riot tonight, Livvy."

I rolled my eyes. "I work with her."

"Can't hold her bevs," John mumbled as he threw the cig on the ground, crushing it with the toe of his shoe.

"I've gotta get her home." I glanced down at her gaping mouth as she breathed. I hoped she wouldn't chunder all over me. "I think I can handle it."

He cocked his head to the side. "You're goin' ta have to carry her, Liv. Ye think you can do tha?"

"I could try," I grumbled as I crossed my arms over my chest. "Got her out here, didn't I?"

"As much as I'd like to see you try...and believe me, I'd be proper chuffed to see ye hoist this dead bird onto yer shoulder...I think I'll come with ye instead."

I opened my mouth to protest, and I wasn't sure why I was so against him helping. It had been like this for a long time now. It wasn't the first time John had left early to get me home safely. But guilt tore through me more than ever before. I couldn't stand the idea of him having to regularly cut his nights short because I was too bloody afraid to get home by myself.