If I Fell│John Lennon/Beatles FanFiction

Chapter 9 - 11.July.1960

Chapter 9

July 11, 1960

It had been three days since the second anniversary of my mother's death, and it was only four days until the second anniversary of John's mother's death.

Two years without my mother's smile. Without her voice. Without her loving hug enveloping me with a sense of safety that I rarely felt anymore.

I sat outside the cemetery, in the same place that I'd sat the previous year. I'd gone to visit her on the first anniversary of her death, but I only made it as far as the grassy patch outside the entrance. Something stopped me from crossing the threshold, from actually going to the gravesite. Annoyed with myself, I'd tried again the next day, and then the next two days after that. That was when John found me.

He'd come to visit his mother a few days early, hoping it would help if he didn't do it on the anniversary of her death. When he saw me, he didn't say a word. He just sat beside me, and we sat together in silence for a long time, trying to figure out if either of us had the nerve to face the grief head-on. But we hadn't made it inside the gates, and we agreed to meet at the same spot the following year to give it another go. It was better to try to do it together on one day. Visiting them both just a week apart, well, it seemed like an impossible feat.

We'd never really agreed on a time, and we didn't talk about it leading up to the date, both of us too wrapped up in our own emotions as the days approached. I wasn't even sure he'd show. But I sat on the grassy patch anyway, my long skirt tucked beneath me, and my hands shoved under my legs.

I'd done my hair for the occasion, and I wasn't really sure why. Maybe I was dressing up for my mum. But I rolled my eyes at the daft idea because she really couldn't fuckin' see me, now could she?

The sun was shining high in the sky, and it almost pissed me off. It rained so bloody often, and the one day I wanted mist to match my mood, it just had to be sunny.

I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, letting out a long breath. And I stayed that way for a long time. I breathed long, slow breaths in and out.

"Waitin' for a bird to shit in yer mouth?" John's voice was above me.

"How did you know?" I asked, not bothering to move or open my eyes. His breath tickled my cheek. "Don't you dare spit in my mouth, John Lennon."

"Would never," he said.

I popped one eye open, and his lips hovered just a few inches above mine. My heart stammered as I stared at the curve of his lips. He definitely looked ready to spit in my mouth, so I shoved my palm against his face, moving him away before he had the chance to drop his grotty saliva on my tongue.

"Rude, Miss Livvy." His lips spread into a tight smile before he sat next to me, collapsing on the ground. He wore jeans paired with a white and black striped shirt. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes. The sun brought out the auburn color of his hair, something he'd inherited from his mother.

"Thought you might not show," I muttered as I tilted my head back again, letting my eyes slip closed. I shoved my hand back under my leg. It was better than allowing my hands to shake at the thought of crossing through the gates and standing in front of my mother's tombstone.

"Not sure why you'd think that." His knee just barely touched mine, and I was grateful for the contact. It grounded me.

"Cause it's hard." I wasn't even sure what exactly I meant. Death was hard? Living without your mother was hard? Confronting your fears was hard? Maybe I meant all of it, maybe none of it. I didn't really know.