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january 1859
"I swear his balls went righ' up into 'is body. It was hilarious."
"Yeah!! His fookin' face.. good times." Ringo guffawed, adjusting his position of leaning against the large willow tree to be more comfortable, taking another puff of the pipe. It was a lazy, mid-temp morning, not cold enough to be inside, but cold enough to warrant George, John and Ringo to nick the manor-owned overcoats. The sky was blanketed in ivory-grizzled clouds, completely covering it with no end in sight. George and Ringo had escaped their parent's clutches to take a break to hang out in their usual hangout spot, next to the lake under the willow trees, John prompting them do to so. They were just talking about what had occurred at Paul's sixteenth birthday.
"No more fuckin' schooling fer me, aye? It's over. Th' only thing left is th' weddin'..." John sighed, tilting his head back, not before snatching the pipe off of Ringo and taking a puff, ignoring his whiny protests.
"When is th' wedding, by th' way, Johnny?" George piped up from eating his sandwich, the nearly-sixteen-year-old speaking through his mouthful.
"Chew firs', ye grotty bastard!" Ringo whacked his best friend across the head with his apple, who giggled and whacked him back, prompting the two to start wrestling and rolling around in the grass, dirtying George's waiter uniform.
"Guys, can ye not righ' now? Jeez." John rolled his eyes with a chuckle, watching his friends fight, taking another puff before reaching and sneaking a bite of George's other, spare sandwich. "It's on January 5th next year."
The two stopped fighting immediately, Ringo halfway through trying to take a bite out of George's sandwich, the hollow-cheeked boy barely able to fend the older boy off.
"Oh shit, really? That's so soon.. jus' less than a year!" George spoke, eyes wide as Ringo rolled off of him, moving to set back next to John, expression concerned.
"Yeah." John sighed again, expression growing somber as he fiddled with a piece of lettuce, twiddling it back and forth, eyes glued to his lap. Apprehension grew like a flower inside his chest, snaking around his torso and up his throat to his brain. His life will be pretty much over after that. "They wanted ta make it quick, so Mimi can be replaced an' I'll be king."
"How do ye feel abou' tha'?" George took the last bite of his sandwich, crossing his legs and watching John.
"I... I dunno, really. It's still processing." John paused. He knew exactly how he felt, but he didn't want to admit it to them. The thought of losing them was probably the most terrifying thing to him at that moment, but he'd never tell them that. "I'll be okay, in th' end."
"Are ye sure? I can tell yer not tellin' us everythin', John. Come'ead, spill." Ringo nudged the prince with his shoulder. John flicked his gaze nervously between his two friends, wondering what to say. Should he spill the beans? He didn't want them to think he was weak, they had already seen enough of that after Julia.
"I-"
"Excuse me, Prince Lennon, Mr. Starkey, Mr. Harrison." Mr. Epstein called, walking over, posh as ever, hands behind his back. John stopped speaking, the three whipping around to look at him. "Dearly sorry to interrupt, but Miss Powell has just arrived to visit and stay the night. I was advised to escort Prince Lennon to the front to greet her."
"Oh, I didn't know she was comin'-"
"Yes, it is on short notice, but Queen Mary informed me that you had no previous plans. Mr. Harrison, you are meant to be helping out setting up morning tea! What on earth happened to your uniform? Please get a new suit and go do your job, quickly now." Brian raised an eyebrow angrily at George, gesturing to the manor, the boy scrambling off with a quick wave goodbye to his friends.
"Wait, Geo! Meet 'ere tonigh', yeah?"
"'Kay! See ya!" He called before hurrying away into the gardens towards the servant's back entrance.
"Right, let us go, Prince Lennon. Mr. Starkey, I advise you return home." Brian spoke sternly to the boy, who nodded before smacking John on the back, saying his goodbyes and slipping away, exiting through the side path so as not to be seen by anyone. The servant then started to guide John away, who winked and made an obscene gesture at him, causing Brian to scoff and roll his eyes, turning away with a slight blush dusting his pale cheeks. "Behave yourself, please, your highness."
"That's boring, innit, Eppy? Who got anywhere by behavin', aye?" John struck a ballet pose, before twirling around and doing (horrible) pirouettes, all the while a shit-eating grin was plastered on his face, locking eyes teasingly with the older man.
"Many people in the world. In fact, it's quite the opposite of what you stated. Now please, be quiet, I don't need your stress, I have a lot required to do today." Brian grew more flustered, hurrying the boy along faster as they entered the manor and made their way through the many halls and rooms to the front doors.
"Not in a good mood, I see. See ya." John rolled his eyes, sending one last wink Brian's way before slipping out the front doors, leaving the older man behind as he went over to greet his fiance.
"Greetings, Prince Lennon." Cynthia spoke up, as the boy held out a hand, being met with a delicate gloved one as the fair-haired girl was helped out of the carriage. Dressed in an overly puffy silk white dress, with gold trimmed lace and puffy sleeves and matching jewelry and a golden bow in her hair, she looked stunning, her lips pulled in a slight smile as John took her arm and they strolled back inside, thanking the carriage driver.
"So how's my lovely lady doing?" He inquired as the two made their way to the study room led by John, as he always liked being there with Cynthia. They would often sit on the end of the sofa that was closest to the window, Cynthia in his lap, the two cuddled up close as they gazed out the window at the garden, talking about anything and everything.
"Oh, just fine, thank you. What about my handsome man?" Cynthia giggled, turning to face the prince and clasping her hands around his. With a shit-eating grin, he reached and picked up the girl bridal style, who squealed in surprise before bursting into laughter as the auburn-haired boy plonked her onto the couch on her back, climbing on top with a wiggle of his eyebrows. "J-John! Careful of my jewelry-"
"Shhhh." He placed a finger on her lips before leaning down to place a few kisses at her jaw, but before he could move any further down, Cynthia gently placed a hand on his chest and pushed him slightly away.
"N...not right now, John, please. I'm not in the right mood."
"Oh, alrigh'." He slowly sat up, helping his fiance sit up too as she started to take off her jewelry and gloves and head bow, letting her hair down, the platinum locks falling over her shoulders, framing her pale, lovely face. She then slipped off her shoes and stood up, turning around and facing her half exposed back to John, who blushed slightly, staring at the curve of her back and her shoulder blades that half stuck out.
"Could you loosen my dress and corset, please? It's a nightmare to wear. I've been getting bruises on my ribs again."
"Of course." He reached up with nimble fingers to undo the knots of her dress, then slipping a hand under it to get to the corset, undoing that too and letting it fall open, half done up. He let his hand travel up her pale back slowly, the skin impeccably smooth under his touch, but before he could turn her around, she moved away from his touch. He felt disappointment fall flat in his chest, but he gave up after that, he wouldn't force her to do anything.
"Oh, fuck. That's so much better." Cynthia sighed loudly, dramatically falling onto the couch and kicking up her feet onto her fiance's lap, pretend fanning herself with a sad face. "Now I can finally relax instead of feeling like a horse is on top of my stomach all the time."
"I still don't understan' why ye gotta wear those things. If they make ye uncomfortable, why wear 'em?"
"You don't understand, John! It's what we're supposed to wear. It's 'inappropriate' to not wear a corset in public." She made a face as she said 'inappropriate'. "Most women even wear it almost all the time, the exception being bedtime. It's how we're supposed to dress. It's like..." She trailed off, twirling a string of hair between her fingers as she thought to herself. "If we didn't wear them, it would be like men going out in just a shirt and trousers and socks with shoes, y'know? That, to society, is seriously underdressed. So.. to society, no corset on women is seriously underdressed. You get shunned if you don't wear one." Her eyes grew somber as her gaze flicked to her lap, twiddling her thumbs together.
"Oh." He spoke after a few moments of silence, and he reached to interlock his fingers with Cynthia's, eyes softening as he gazed at her. "'m sorry."
"'s alright. Not your fault, y'know?" She smiled at him warmly, eyes sparkling with love as John laid down next to her, wrapping his arms around her, his fiance snuggling into his touch, causing him to grin widely. "God, you're so cute." Cynthia grinned and pecked his aquiline nose, which he scrunched up slightly in surprise, taken aback.
"Shut up, 'm not. You are!" He felt his cheeks flush red as he whacked her lightly on the arm, not knowing how to react to praise. He always either melted or grew defensive at praise, Cynthia loved it when it was the former, watching as he turned into literal goo in the palm of her hand.
"Nu-uh, I'm right and you know it! My little handsome boy!" She peppered kisses all over his face and jaw, and he let out a girlish giggle and buried his nose in the dip between her neck and shoulder, breathing in her light perfume.
"Stooop! 'm jus' a fat bastard."
"Hey.. don't say that!" She pulled away, gently holding the sides of his face in her hands, John's face growing embarrassed and forlorn, cheeks flushing even deeper red. "That's not true whatsoever. You are the most handsome boy I know. Sure, you can be a bit of a bastard sometimes..." The prince tried to glare at Cynthia, but failed as a smile tugged at his lips. "Sorry! It's true." She held up her hands in surrender, before wrapping them around John's waist and pulling him closer. "What I'm trying to say is, you're amazing, John. Underneath all the spite and cutting words, you're a wonderful, loving person. And that makes you beautiful."
John blinked slightly, feeling his throat close up slightly, but he ignored it. He couldn't cry in front of her. He was so lucky to have a girl like Cynthia, he felt he didn't deserve her, at all.
"Thanks, love. Truly." He smiled warmly and pressed his lips to hers, both of them melting into the affectionate kiss for a few moments before Cynthia pulled away with a smile, standing up and grabbing John's hands.
"Let's go for a walk in the garden, John."
And so they did, ending up lying in the grass in a clearing further down the property, away from prying eyes, talking and laughing, cuddling or kissing every few minutes. They both made flower crowns for each other with wild daisies, John failing miserably but Cynthia making a perfect one for the younger boy, and he protested and grew greatly embarrassed as Cynthia praised him for his cuteness over and over. It was pure, and sweet. In fact, it was the last time they ever felt truly in love with one another.
You all know what caused that.
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author's note.
_______________________
hi guys sorry this chapter took forever.
my mental health has been slipping
again and im struggling a bit but ill b ok.
anyways hope yall enjoy this chapter,
sorry its boring and theres no interaction
with john and paul here, im saving it for
next chapter, anyways ill shut up!. see
u guys later,, leave comments please
i need feedback.im really not feeling good
about my writing as of lately. ok fr ill shut
up bye ,,