John cut through the Church-yard again, this time neither his friends nor guitar accompanied him. But again, he caught a glimpse of the blonde hair resting against one of the headstones. He smiled, noticing the girl sitting against the familiar stone, in their familiar way.
“Wot ‘ou doin’ luv?” he asked standing over her, the smile still dancing on his face.
“Readin’,” Amie replied shyly, smiling herself and holding the book up for him to see. Another classic.
He nodded, smirking coyly. They were replaying their first day, and strangely it was fitting, but John didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t want to think beyond that sun-filled moment. He wasn’t interested in thinking about consequences or repercussions yet. Even if they were coming.
“Can I sit there then?” he motioned to the little grassy spot next to her with the cigarette waiting between his fingers.
“I suppose,” she didn’t even take the moment to pretend to consider his request, she instantly shimmied over enough to give him space to fall into.
He did just that, dropping himself unceremoniously next to her, knocking shoulders but careful not to lose this cigarette. Once properly seated he lit the stick of tobacco and paper in a quick blaze of his lighter, filling the time with as many non-verbal tasks as possible.
Against the offending smell, Amie leaned her head against the warm shoulder. Happy and content as she drank in his presence.
After a few slow and silent drags off the lit addiction, relishing in the simple time shared between the two, John spoke.
His head tilted toward the sky, watching the few distractions he could and avoiding the one beside him, “You know…nothin’ will last forever.”
“MmmHmm,” she hummed in agreement, closing her eyes she cuddled herself against him, working at losing herself in that spot. They had had mortality discussions in this same spot before; she never realised that this one was about her.
Waiting again, he flicked away the remaining end and chewed his bottom lip, “This won’t last forever.”
Amie’s eyes shot open then. She turned herself to face him, cupping his face in her hands to ensure he faced her in return, “Tell me John.” They had seen each other a small fraction of the time that they used to, and part of her was waiting for the shoe to drop. She just wished that it never would.
But instead of speaking, he took advantage of their positions and captured her mouth with his. Fuelled by more than hormones, his tongue caressed her lips and begged for entrance into the sanctuary. The one muscle drawing them closer together.
Amie pulled back, having to breathe and fight the nagging feeling rising in her gut. John never kissed with that rushed urgency before. And even with looking up and hoping to see his smiling, satisfied face, she was instead greeted with the opposite; his eyes were squeezed tightly closed, as if he wanted to block something out. Block everything out and pretend that nothing was happening.
“What is it John? Tell me,” she sat back, defeated. She knew his actions always spoke louder than words, and that kiss had spoken volumes, telling her something. Something bad. “Please, common John,” she coaxed when he made no effort to reply.
But when he opened his eyes, she saw it.
“So…we’re o’er then?” She fought against the cracking in her voice and pain stinging her chest.
He hung his head, “It wasn’t fair. Wasn’t right.”
She choked on a bitter laugh. Fair, fair to who? She couldn’t help but wonder just what the other girl had that she didn’t that made him keep her. What was right about this? At the moment, she didn’t see it. The rejection began spilling from her eyes and down her cheeks. She didn’t see what was fair and right in this.
“Please don’t cry luv,” obviously John was uncomfortable with her emotional outburst, and his own internal one, but unable to show it. He let his hand reach out and caress her damp cheek.
“Did you care about me…as much as her,” Amie began choking on her own sobs, sniffling and shaking. There was nothing holding her together now, she let it all flow out of her.
“Shh,” he soothed, trying as best he could to wipe away the ramped tears, “With lovers and friends, I still can recall, in my life, I’ve loved them all.”
She allowed herself to lean into the touch, drinking in the warmth radiating from him and washing in the words. With everything, being nothing was the biggest fear she’d had.
She pulled herself up, wiping at the fugitive tears streaking her face, and pulling out her game-face. “No big star’s gonna want to drag me along,” she gave a little shoulder shrug, desperately trying to look as if she were brushing it all off.
Shaking his head and fighting the urge to dive into his cigarette package, John leaned into her and pressed his lips against hers. The force was soft and apprehensive, waiting for her. After only a flash of moment, she pressed her own lips against his. Never once closing her eyes in fears that he would disappear before she knew it. Instead she memorised the curves of his face and the taste and warmth of his mouth touching hers before he pulled away forever.
Amie sat on her spot in front of Eleanor Rigby, silently watching the denim-clad form walk back off through the church-yard, the way he had come in. She didn’t dare say a thing, or look away. Anything could have ruined this already bittersweet moment.
