The Blue Danube [OLD]

- 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔶 𝔣𝔬𝔲𝔯. ﾐ

"Shit, that's our stall." Paul froze in his spot, staring at a certain tiny little stall, which was wedged between a jewellery store (which, Paul remembered, Mick Jagger owned with his other friends) and a liquor store. There his father was, working at the stall with Jane's father, who usually manned the sales part of the farm; Jim must be checking up on the sales.

"Paulie. George, Ringo." Jim nodded at them in greeting before turning back to the customer they were tending to. But he paused when he spotted John with them, standing close to Paul, their shoulders brushing. "Oh, who's this?" He spoke up, looking at John with a scrutinising gaze, as if he was trying to peer into his soul and see if he was secretly the prince of Liverpool.

"Oh, me friend John.. uh," Paul paused. "Winston. Yeah." He half-smiled at his father, albeit his eyes flashed nervously.

"Hello." John spoke up with a small wave. Paul could see in his tense muscles and twitching eye that he was ready to book it if he was going to be murdered.

"Ah. Alright, carry on." Jim stared only for a moment longer, before seemingly dismissing them and turning away with a wave of a hand, back to tending to his customers.
The group took that as permission and scrambled away, John letting out a giant breath and relaxing, letting go of Paul's arm that he had a death grip on, causing the doe-eyed boy to rub it to ease the pain.

"I swear to god- he knows all of me dirtiest, darkest secrets an' is judgin' me sins." John looked terrified, and Ringo burst out laughing.

"Genuinely thought he was gonna skin ye fer the entire market ta see." George munched on a chocolate with his usual deadpan expression, seemingly totally unbothered by what he said.

"That would've been interestin', eh?" Ringo quipped with a raise of an eyebrow.

"Hey! Yer 'sposed ta be on my side, bints!" John playfully glared at them.

"'s okay, John. He reacted pretty much the same with me other friends, don't worry." Paul reassured him with a warm smile, nudging his shoulder before stuffing his face with potato chips.

"Right." John rolled his eyes. "But I don't think yer other friends are also the prince of the city they live in."

"Come'ead! 's fine." Paul giggled. Hearing his boyfriend laugh did lift John's spirits a bit, and he smiled shyly, cheeks dusted with pink slightly as he discreetly brushed their hands together.

"Ugh! Stop bein' so gross an' lovey!" George groaned, throwing a jelly baby in their vague direction as they continued to squeeze through the crowds. They just laughed, ignoring their friend's protests as they continued to gaze at each other lovingly.

Until something shiny flashed in the corner of John's peripheral vision, making him halt in his footing and direct his gaze towards it. He couldn't see it very well from there, but he saw shiny stones and bracelets displayed in a stall shrouded by tattered, dark curtains. A middle aged woman sat at the front, seemingly preoccupied with arranging some of the stuff she was selling; before he could stop himself, John's feet were already walking towards it, and he stopped once he reached the display. He could feel his friend's eyes boring into his back, but he didn't care at that moment.

"There." He breathed.

A certain bracelet was displayed at the very front of the stall. It was a silver chain, but decorated with deep green and yellow crystals - his face lit up with a tiny smile as he dug into his pocket for his money, before turning to look at the shop-owner.