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"Jonesy." You whispered, feeling his chest lightly rise and fall against your back. You turned to face him, pale green water sloshing over the edge as you moved. His head lay against the rim of the tub, eyes hooded and mouth slightly agape. The bands bender had surely taken its toll on him, he spent the past three days passed out in your shared hotel room. You took the opportunity to admire his slumberous state - cheeks flushed from the rising steam. Lifting the hair from his neck, you loosely secured it at the top of his head.
"Are you falling asleep on me again?"
A low chuckle left his mouth. "Uh-huh, just a little tired." He hummed, the rise and falls of his chest growing further apart the longer he spoke.
"S'alright, love. Go to sleep." You closed his eyes with the palm of your hand, the energy in the room having a soporific effect on you as well.
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You sat in silence as the record ceased to spin, replaying itself after a few seconds and filling the bathroom with Billie Holiday's somber tune once again. You rose to swap the disc only to be pulled back into John. "Stay with me."
"I wasn't leaving, the record ended."
"It can wait," He sighed, pulling you closer into him. "We'll just listen to it again."
You wanted to tease him for being so needy but you couldn't bring yourself to, instead placing a kiss on his skin and resting your head against his chest, savoring the moment.
You wondered how long this would last - this soft, hidden side of Jonesy. He was never an insolent man to begin with but you couldn't recall from your few years of traveling alongside bands ever being treated so gently by a suitor. He treated you with such respect and made you feel . . . precious almost. When he suggested a bath you would have never in a million years suspected it to be like this. Closed curtains, wax candles, orchard bath oil, wine. You wanted to resist, feeling as if you were overstepping a boundary but he insisted.
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You feared what would happen once he went back home to the UK, leaving you behind in the sleepy old South - heartbroken and alone.
"Im going to miss this, badly." You admitted, deciding not to think about it anymore but simply enjoy what little time left you had in his wonderland.
"Me too," He rested his head atop yours, kissing the top. "Me too."
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What do you think of the new style? Yes, it's shorter and more somber than the usual but don't worry, it's not permanent. With time it'll be a passing fad. For now, bear with me as I ease back into writing. Missed you all dearly ❤️
