If I Fell│John Lennon/Beatles FanFiction

Chapter 26 - 13.Oct.1961 - 9.Nov.1961

Chapter 26

October 13, 1961

"Your hair's gone funny," I said, squinting at John. I sat cross-legged on my bed, and he stood near the door, leaning his shoulder against the wooden frame. "You and Paul both."

They'd only just returned from their trip, both of them coming to the McCartney home with their bowler hats still on their heads, looking refreshed and gleeful. But the moment the hats were removed, it was clear the lads had up and changed their hairstyle while on holiday.

"Met up with Jürgen Vollmer in Paris," John said with a shrug.

My eyes popped up. "Paris? Jürgen? The fuck you goin' on about... weren't you meant to be in Spain?"

John's lips pulled into a glorious smile, the one I loved so much. "We were a bit knackered, so we checked into a hotel for a night in Paris. Thought we'd go off hitching the next morning, but it was too nice having a bed after that shite travel." He took a step into my room, hesitating a bit. "And Spain was so far away, and gettin' there was gonna be bloody exhausting. So we stayed in Paris."

"Ah, la Ville Lumière. Très bien." I grinned at him as I leaned my back against the wall. "What's Jürgen doin' in Paris?" The last time I'd seen Jürgen Vollmer, John was punching him in the face back in Hamburg. I was glad their last encounter hadn't ruined their friendship.

"Studying photography or some shite."

"And what's Jürgen have to do with this hair you've come back with? You look so different I can hardly recognize you."

In fact, John looked a bit like Jürgen Vollmer, with his new flattened-down hairstyle with a fringe in the front. I bit the inside of my cheek as my body flooded with warmth. Time away from John, it seemed, had done nothing to get rid of my body's damned reaction to him.

"Dunno. We got to talkin' one night, and we went over to his place. Right then and there, he hacked our hair to look like his." He dropped down on the bed. "Paul's idea, I think."

"I'm sure," I said, smirking.

"We tried to change it back, but it just keeps flopping forward." He pushed himself back until he sat next to me, his thigh almost touching mine. "Easy though...wash it, towel it, giz it a shake, and that's it."

I gazed at his leg, my fingers itching to reach out and touch him, to feel him. I bit my cheek again to try to focus on anything other than John.

"If I remember correctly, you lot gave Stu a great deal of shite for cutting his hair just like this."

"Should get yer head checked, I don't remember it like that." A cheeky grin grew on John's face as he looked at me. "You like it?"

I almost gushed about how proper dishy he looked, about how I wanted to run my fingers through his hair, but I stopped myself. The inside of my cheek was getting raw from chewing on it to keep from telling him my every thought.

"Suits you," I said, tearing my eyes from his gaze. "Have a good birthday, then? I'm surprised you haven't come back with grey hair."

He nudged his shoulder against mine before reaching for a few pieces of my hair. "Grey hair? You mean like these right here?"

"Sod off, John," I grumbled. I pulled my hair from his grabby hands. "It was decent, though, your holiday?"

"Brilliant. Macca even bought me a hamburger to celebrate." He turned his head and looked directly into my eyes, his expression suddenly serious. "You see 'im, then? Yer dad?"