𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘽𝙀𝘼𝙏𝙇𝙀𝙎 𝙄𝙈𝘼𝙂𝙄𝙉𝙀𝙎

nowhere man | john ☆

era: 1972
name: mary

i knew camping with john lennon would be disastrous. he didn't want to go in the first place, but i told him it would be a nice way to get away from all the stress. he reluctantly packed his bags, grabbed his guitar and came along.

"i'm telling you, mary, this won't do anything!"

"trust me, john, you'll have fun! i used to go camping all the time with my family when i lived-"

"-lived in michigan. i honestly don't give a flying fuck, mary. i've heard this fuckin' story millions of times." john shouted.

my hands gripped the wheel tightly as he reprimanded me. i never knew he didn't like my childhood stories. i always thought he loved them. "just you wait, winston."
when we got there, i made sure we were deep in the london woods. no one was around to hear us, see us, know where we were. perfect.

he helped (sort of) set up the tent i'd had since i was just a kid, grabbed the chairs and set them in front of our fire pit and sat down. to make the fire, i brought some wood and matches. and marshmallows. and chocolate. "it's bloody cold out here, mary," john complained, sinking further into his chair.

"put a jacket on, then," i put the wood in the fire.

since i knew john wouldn't like camping, i would make him like camping. or at least, have him associate camping with something he loved. women. i wore a short skirt and revealing shirt just for the occasion. given, i was freezing, but i wanted it to be a pleasurable experience for the two of us. pleasurable it was.

i bent over, placing the logs in the fire pit, knowing my arse was practically falling out of my flowery skirt. i felt his eyes on me as i turned around and grabbed the matches next to him, seeing his pants already begin to tighten around his crotch. "enjoying the view?" i teased, lighting the match and hoping a spark would start.

"shut up." he mumbled, squirming in his seat, covering his pants with his jacket. "you always do this to me."

"do what?" i asked innocently as i knelt down, trying to start the fire.

"you know what." he muttered.

i shrugged, the fire already started. i put a bit of gasoline to help ease it along, and it did. as the flames engulfed, with satisfaction, i sat back down next to john. "isn't the wilderness beautiful?"

"no."

"c'mon, john! please, just for one night, let's do something i want to do!"

"we're here, aren't we?" john scoffed.

i didn't know why he was acting this way. he always liked hearing my childhood stories and coming along on adventures with me! what got into him to suddenly be so mean? i huffed and crossed my arms over my chest. "fine. if you want to act this way, i guess you won't be getting any tonight."

his eyes widened. "getting any what?" he frantically turned to me. "mary, what?"

i slowly whispered in his ear as seductively as i could, "any of me, john." his eyebrows furrowed as he figured it out.

"mary! that's not fair! we always—"

"-when you're in a good mood, we always. you're awfully grumpy this evening, i think." i teased.

"it's not my fault i don't want to be in the middle of the damn cold, stinking woods tonight," he replied in a snarky tone.

after a few minutes, i turned my tearful eyes away from the fire to look at him. "do you think after all these years, i've necessarily wanted to be famous or go on tour with you?" i asked. i could i've swore his face almost softened when he saw i was on the verge of tears. "and, do you think i've ever wanted to live right in the middle of the city? or watch you and the beatles argue in front of me? or console you even when you were wrong? do you think i've ever wanted that, john? did you ever ask?"

he tried to say something, but couldn't. he didn't know what to say.

"do you think i wanted to watch my mother slowly die after i met you? even worse, do you think i wanted to leave her when you asked me to go on tour with you?"

"well, why didn't you say anything before?" john asked.

"because, i love you, stupid!" i answered. "when you truly love someone, you make sure their feelings are spared instead of yours. you do what they want, and hope they return the favor. for almost a decade, i've done nothing but what you wanted to do."

"you seemed happy, though," john added.

"for the most part, i was," i replied. "but, there comes a time when touring and partying and living in hotels gets old. i've always wanted to live in the country, but i never said anything when you bought our house in new york."

"why?"

"because i love you."

"oh, mary, i'm so sorry," we stood from our chairs and hugged. i collapsed in his arms, weeping as he did. "i never realized any of this, i... i don't know what to say..." he cried.

"no, it's okay," i wept. "it's my fault for not saying anything,"

"i should've known already!" john sobbed. "we've been together for ten years, i should've known!"

"oh, i love you, john," i bawled.

"i love you, too, mary."