I'm Looking Through You // Mclennon

love

"Beats me. This is yer stompin' grounds, after all." I laughed a bit as I pointed out.

"Right. Well, we could-" John was speaking, but my ears weren't listening. Instead, I was fixated on a colorful album cover mounted on the wall in the hallway. How could I have missed it?!

"Is that Pepper's?!" I spoke over the lad.

John quickly whipped around behind him and saw the mostly yellow album cover as well. He stared back down at the floor and smirked,

"...It is. Guess after all these years, I still can't let go of the past. Ye didn't notice it before?"

"I didn't..." I looked back at the man standing next to me with messy bed-head, "Well?"

He looked back at me with a look of pure confusion, "...What?"

I widened my eyes, "Get that thing down and let's give it a listen!"

"Ye sure?" John tilted his head, "Paul, isn't that-"

"I can get it down if yer too short, don't worry!" I teased.

"...Piss off!" He snapped back at my little remark with a smile.

John stood up on the tips of his toes and took down the framed album. He opened the back of the framing and the iconic cover was in his hands.

His fingers were tightly gripped around the album, just as they were to my shirt when John slept with me last night. He smiled back up at me as he slipped the vinyl out of the record sleeve.

"How long ye have this?" I asked curiously.

John squinted his eyes as he began to think, "Since... the day it came out, I reckon."

"Woah! Ye serious?" I asked, "I don't even think I've got my original copy, still. Sentimental bastard."

"Wow, that's a real shock. Ye were the one that was always so obsessed wi' it once it dropped, after all." John joked back.

John then simply motioned me to follow him, as he always does. We walked by his window and sat down infront of it where his record player was set up.

He took in a deep breath as he carefully sat the record under the tiny needle. He turned on the knob on the side and soon the disk began to spin slowly. You could sort of hear scratching against it as the record is going to be 10 years old pretty soon.

After a few seconds, John turned the album off just as the intro was beginning to play.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"...Let's listen to a different song."

"What? Why?" I asked once more.

Without answering, John flipped the album over to "Within You, Without You". Why? Who knows, I wish I did.

The psychedelic-sounding tune began to ring through our ears. It was strange John picked such a random song, but it's always been one of our favorites. Maybe that's why he did?

"Ye know what this song reminds me of?" John asked me out of seemingly nowhere.

"What is it, Johnny?" I asked with a sly smile. "Geor-"

"Pot." He paused, "Like the good ol' days." He further explained to me, leaning against the wall. He then took in a deep wiff.

I let out a burst of pure laughter, "Scuse me? Ye expectin' somethin' from me, then?"

"Maybe." He looked out the window as he spoke with an embarrassed expression.

"With our love, with our love, we could save the world.
If they only knew." George off the record player sang, just at the right time, I think.

"But first... Are ye allowed any?" I asked with raised brows.

"I won't say nothin' if ye don't, Macca." He replied to me in the most intoxicating tone, that it sent chills down my shoulders and made the hairs on my neck stand.

It was almost like he was referring to something else that had nothing to do with just 'lighting up.'

I sighed and then quickly retrieved my suitcase out of my room and unzipped it infront of the man. John watched me intently as I pulled out a tiny dimebag with green material zipped inside. Next to it, an old wooden pipe I've kept on me for years.

I packed the bowl tightly and lit the plant matter tucked inside with a lighter John had on his window sill. I then coughed out the thick smoke and passed the still burning pipe to an eager John. He quickly took a hit of his own and pretty much had the same response as I did.

Pretty soon we were both feeling quite slow.

John and I were soon laughing with glazed over eyes on the floor as the record kept on spinning. Eventually, we got on to more deeper topics of conversation, though.

"Ye know... people think we've got this terrible feud for some reason, ye know what I mean?" I asked, staring at the man who was now laying against his window, smoking a cigarette.

He nodded his head, exhaling the tobacco smoke through his acquiline nose.

"It's all bollocks, people jus want drama these days." John tried to remind me. "I mean, what's more dramatic than the idea that 'John Lennon and Paul McCartney, former bandmates, hating eachother?' ...I don't hate ye."

"...Then what exactly did happen to us?" I asked.

"Dunno..." John replied.

"What happened to the band?" I asked with even more wonder. "I mean, we were The Beatles!"

"They all grew up and became lawyers." John chuckled, flicking his cigarette into an ashtray.

"John?"

"Yes, Macca?"

"What happened to us? Ye and I?"

John's eyes grew much wider once I asked that.

"Ah... I wish I knew the answer, meself." He chuckled nervously, staring out the window again.

I stood up from where I was and sat down next to John on the window sill. My heart racing once more like crazy.

John turned to me and stared deeply into my eyes as if he was looking directly into my soul. His gaze quickly shot down to my plump lips.

"I... I do find myself missing... ye know... the past." He quieted his voice down to almost a whisper. "Don't ye?"

"Why do ye think I came here?" I asked him, "I missed ye, John."

John placed his hand under my chin, just as he used to years ago and tilted my face up towards his. He then pulled my face in for a kiss.

Our lips collided desperately, longingly even. After we pulled away, we simply stared up into eachother's eyes, a light red shade tinting our cheeks.