"In short, my Mum hated the way her parents tried to control her, she thought they were constantly manipulating her into being a good little girl," Robin explained, her eyes not looking up at John once as she spoke, her focus directed solely on the painting she was working on. "She was proper smart in school so my grandparents were pushing her into getting a good job because she had potential, but she wanted to have fun. She fell into a group of friends who went out to clubs and went drinking and dancing most nights. It was where she met my Dad with a bunch of his steelworks mates, and it was like lust at first sight,"
Robin wasn't quite sure why she was telling John all about her parents that lunchtime as they sat about in one of the college classrooms. She was meant to be helping him catch up on his coursework, and she still had finishing touches to do on her pieces, but he'd noticed the red mark on her arm as she took her jumper off and had asked her about it. Usually the outcome of her run-ins with her mother were invisible, nothing but mental scars, but every so often her mother would grab her arm or her wrist too tightly and there'd be a bruise left over. Robin wasn't bothered, but knowing John had seen it led to the whole story practically falling out of her. She wasn't one for talking about it all, not wanting to feel as though she was making it someone elses problem, but she trusted John, and they'd promised to talk to each other properly about things.
Until she began talking, Robin never even realised just how hard it was keeping it to herself, all of her home troubles, and just how much it all should bother her. That was why she refused to look at John, because each time he narrowed his eyes at what she was saying, she realised just how messed up her family relationships were.
"They went out for a while, they were a model couple, but then her parents found out and kicked her out," she continued, still not meeting his eye as he sat on the table across from her. "She found out she was pregnant the next day so had no choice but to move in with my Dad and marry him. It was a thing of convenience for both of them but I think they loved each other at first. My Dad had a shit relationship with his parents so I think he wanted a family and I think my Mum resented him for how good he was as a parent. As soon as she had me all of her friends left her, they all had jobs and boyfriends of their own, and one of them told her she was the only one stupid enough to get in trouble. I know she loves me in her own little way, but she never failed to remind me that I was a mistake and potentially ruined her life, but it never bothered me because I knew she did the same to my Dad,"
"Why didn't either of you leave?" John asked as she paused, frowning as he tried to fight his urge to pull her into a tight hug, wishing he could make her feel better about it all despite the brave face she was forcing on.
"Cause we all kind of needed each other, Dad insisted that Mum had a good heart really even with all of their arguments, and neither of my parents would have been able to afford rent without the other, it's why Mum and me needed to move in with Uncle Al after Dad died," Robin shrugged in explanation. "As soon as I was old enough to be left on my own Mum went to find a job, not just for the money but for the excuse to get out of the flat. She'd be out constantly, not just working but going out with her new friends, spending all her money. Dad's whole wage practically went on rent and bills while Mum spent all of hers on going out and having a laugh, making up for the years she'd been forced to waste by having to look after me. I can do nothing right in her eyes really, it was only when Dad died that she started to be a bit more considerate about me, but I think she's given up on that now and she's back to not liking me,"
"That's shit," John muttered, recalling all the times Robin had said she was a disappointment or unlikeable, hating that it was her mother who had instilled those values into her.
"A lot of people have it worse," she reasoned, putting down her paintbrush with a sense of finality, frowning down at her work. "I think I'm done,"
"Robin, seriously," John interrupted her attempt to change the topic, though not without a glance down to his own barely completed work, knowing with dread it was probably a fail grade. "Not that I'm an expert of normal family life, but I really don't think your mother should be leaving marks on you,"
"It's a one off, John, promise," she shrugged again, offering him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "We're good at ignoring each other or just being civil, it's just sometimes she feels the need to say some mean stuff just in case I forget that I'm a talentless mistake,"
John raised his eyebrows before gesturing down to the painting she'd just completed. It was one of her best, yet another masterpiece. He'd seen her start it, just a simple sketch of someone sat on a park bench, but as she had added shading and colour, it had slowly come to life. It was as if she had some sort of gift to create life, as that canvas looked as though it was a window into real life. There was nothing about that painting that screamed talentless.
"Yeah, alright, I get what you mean," she let out a short laugh as she turned her back and walked over to the sink at the back of the classroom, washing her palette and paintbrush. "That's the thing, sometimes what she says stings a bit, but I know deep down she doesn't mean it and her words aren't true, so I'm not too bothered. At the end of the day, I'm fine, she's harmless,"
John wasn't sure just how much he agreed with her last point, but what did he know? He'd never even properly met Robin's mother, and he didn't have the example of a perfect home life to know what was classed as normal. His aunt was a fan of tough love, and she too liked to remind him that the guitar and art college would probably lead him nowhere, but at least she'd never called him a mistake.
Nothing about Robin said mistake, and knowing that it was the label her mother gave her explained a lot. It explained why she was so careful over her artwork, desperate to make it as perfect as possible, or the confidence in herself she tried to carry around. It also made sense why she'd stick to herself, not wanting more people to give her such horrible labels, because if no one else was close to her then she wasn't putting herself at risk of earning anyone else's dislike.
That was obviously not true though, because the two of them were closer than ever, and John couldn't imagine ever disliking Robin. He was done with being stupid, getting jealous over her, and decided just being close to her as a best friend was more than good enough, though every now and then he liked to enjoy just how attractive he found her. Since that day was the last of her deadlines she'd decided to go out straight after college, booking the night off work, and she'd dressed up for the occasion. She was wearing a checked green dress with a collar, though she'd left the top few buttons undone, paired with some black tights and heels. Her hair had been down all day, but she'd tied it up for painting, throwing an apron over her dress, and as he watched her clean up her supplies, the overwhelming desire to kiss her appeared once again.
He imagined putting his hands on her waist, pulling her close from behind and pushing a thousand kisses against her neck. He imagined undoing her hair from the messy bun on top of her head, running his fingers through it before he spun her around to kiss her on the lips. He imagined lifting her up onto one of the desks, their lips never parting as he held her face while she pulled him close to her, running her hands through his own hair. He imagined... Well, he imagined a lot of things like that, and they'd been more frequent as time moved on. He'd always quite liked her, but day by day his admiration deepened to infatuation to the point he felt practically desperate to kiss her, to hold her, to just be close to her, but he refused to ruin their friendship over a stupid crush. He wouldn't risk spoiling things yet again by giving into impulse.
Whenever Robin trusted him with details of her past or little parts of her that were so private John felt honoured. Telling him about her tricky relationship with her mother took a lot of courage, he knew, no matter how many times she insisted she wasn't truly bothered by it all. It felt spiteful, knowing she was trusting him more and more, only for him to be fantasising about kissing her. It was unavoidable though, just how much he liked her, but what he didn't know was that Robin talking to him about important things was her way of telling him that she trusted him more than anyone else, because even her crush on him had grown over the past few weeks. She wasn't ready to admit to it, but she hoped he'd at least pick up on her change of attitude.
"So this is my last piece, I just need to let it dry then I can hand it in," she told him as she finished drying off her equipment, putting them back in her portfolio. "Come on then, lets get cracking on your stuff so we can bugger off out of here,"
***
The Quarrymen were on top form as always, except that night in particular Robin felt like she could properly enjoy them since she had nothing else to worry about. No more college until the New Year, no more deadlines keeping her up at night, nothing to stress her out at all. Whenever she'd seen them perform before she'd watched them with John's cousin Connie, but she was working, so Robin had instead invited Kay along, so the two of them danced and sang along through the whole set, though singing along quiet enough so that they could still hear the performance perfectly.
John was, as usual, captivating, and any time he squinted out at the crowd Robin found herself willing his gaze to fall onto her. It always made her feel excited whenever he looked at her while singing, even if she knew he couldn't really see her. Every so often though, one of the other girls in the crowd would cheer or whistle at the lads, and they'd all smirk or wink back, and as ridiculous as it seemed, Robin couldn't help but feel madly jealous any time one of the girls screamed John's name.
The closest reference she had to feeling like that was on John's birthday, when she'd seen him talking to a girl who she now knew was one of Connie's friends. It was stupid to feel jealous, and she certainly didn't mean to feel that way, John was her friend, and he was eighteen, he could make his own mind up about the girls he liked and how he wanted to act upon his wishes, part of her just wished he'd give her a bit of that sort of attention.
"You're scowling again," Kay hissed over the music as yet another girl called John's name. "Just admit you wish he was winking at you,"
"He's fucking blind, he can't even see who he's winking at," Robin argued back, rolling her eyes.
As the lads got to their final number, Robin could see they were all exhausted, running purely on adrenaline. The last song was Roll Over Beethoven, one they typically let George sing, and even though the bar was right at the back of the club and she was meant to be working, Robin could hear John's cousin Connie's cheer the loudest over the rest as George stepped up to the mic. George, for his age, was the best guitarist in the group, and Robin liked his voice, but she also liked that by letting George lead the number, John relaxed a little, laughing and smirking while he was playing. To Robin in that moment, he was insanely attractive, and she felt her stomach ache ever so slightly as she watched him play.
For some reason, watching him play that last number made her want nothing more than to climb on stage and kiss him. She wanted to take the guitar off him and push him up against the wall and run her hands through his messy hair. She didn't care that it would be in front of the whole club, she didn't care that it would be completely out of character, she just wanted to be close to him and express all the desire she'd been supressing for weeks, probably for longer than even she realised.
The applause snapped her out of her day dreams, making her jump a little. Kay noticed, frowning at her.
"Okay, I admit they're a lot better now than when I last saw them," she nodded in approval before flashing a teasing smirk. "See, I was actually listening to the music, I wasn't just staring at John the whole time so I'd know that it was a good show,"
Had she really been looking at John the whole show? Robin hadn't really noticed. She was sure she'd been looking at Stuart a little too, and it was impossible not to look at Paul as well, and she was sure that she'd looked at Pete when he hit his drum wrong in the middle of their set. She refused to believe Kay was right, rolling her eyes and clapping along with the rest of the crowd.
"No I'm pretty sure Frank would have something to say if you were staring at another man," Robin hit back dryly.
"Exactly, why would I ever want a rock-n-roller when I have my little bus driver?" Kay grinned, and even though she was joking it was obvious how much she liked her boyfriend.
Robin wondered what that would be like, to be in a relationship with someone she actually cared about, actually loved and wanted to be with. She thought she could learn love with Ant, but he was completely wrong for her, and it wasn't as if she had a good example of what romance actually was considering her parents. Maybe she'd grown up a cynic of love and relationships because she'd never seen it as a child, having parents who preferred to be with each other out of convenience rather than the need to just be together because of love. Maybe now she was stepping out and finding her own life outside of the home she was finally starting to understand it all, at last realising that the love of someone else was something she actually wanted, actually craved.
She didn't just want it from any old person though, she realised with dread. She'd tried to ignore her crush on John ever since she first noticed it, but it suddenly felt as though she was carrying around the weight of the world, and she needed to get it all off her chest.
Robin was so caught up in it all that she barely noticed the lads coming off the stage. They'd all agreed to say out in the club to watch the next act -a band called the Hurricanes - and get a few drinks, so it wasn't really a surprise when the lads shoved their way through the crowd to Robin and Kay, but seeing John still took her a little off-guard. No one noticed, thankfully, though she still pulled Stuart into a hug, ruffling his hair, hoping her friend would be a distraction from John.
"You were so good!" she grinned at them all. "Seriously, you all look knackered,"
"Feel knackerd an' all," Stuart commented.
"Y'alright, Paul?" Kay greeted, and Robin remembered what she had said about her sister going out with Paul a few months before.
"Oh, hello," he smiled, and Robin wasn't sure if he was just hot or if he had turned red out of embarrassment. "How's things? How's Rosie?"
"She's good, now I've banned her from dating musicians," Kay remarked, raising her eyebrow.
"Your mate's not gonna punch Paul is she?" George muttered to Robin, making her laugh.
"Probably not, she likes the Cavern too much to risk getting kicked out," Robin told him before turning her attention to John, who had just been stood off to the side. "You alright there, Johnny?"
"Erm, yeah, all fine, just realised I left my cigs in the back room with my guitar," he told her, nodding his head in the direction of the side alley by the stage that led to the back room they stored their guitars in. "Come have a smoke with me?"
She nodded, taking hold of his arm so they didn't get separated in the crowd, and as they left their friends behind, Robin couldn't help but feel that familiar ache reappear inside of her, though this time it felt like her entire body was being squeezed tightly, her heart pounding in her chest. She wasn't sure why she felt like that, John was her friend and they'd been alone together loads of times before, but for some reason it all felt different.
As they got to the back room, John shut the door behind him out of habit before going to where he'd thrown his stuff down on one of the spare speakers. Robin stood a little behind him, watching as he squinted through the dim light as he attempted to find his cigarettes and lighter. Letting out a quiet laugh, she stepped forward, shoving him out of the way and picking the little box up, smirking as she recognised it as the box she had given him for his birthday.
"Thought you'd have gotten through these by now?" she offered him an amused frown while he merely shrugged, making no move to take one out and light it up, instead staring at her.
"Nah, I save 'em for best," he told her with a small smirk. "They make me think of you,"
She wasn't sure why, but before she could stop herself she had taken the cigarettes and the lighter out of his hands, setting them back down on the speaker, instead taking hold of his hands and pulling him closer. She didn't really know what she was doing, not really thinking as she listened to her instincts, but John clearly had some sort of idea for what she wanted, as he stepped towards her. He was taller than her just a little, but he seemed to tower over her as she looked up at him, her heart still pounding in anticipation for something, though she wasn't sure what. Just standing this close to him seemed to fulfil her earlier fantasies, but as if John had been able to read her mind and see exactly what she had been thinking of earlier, he pulled one of his hands from her grip and moved it to cup her cheek, his eyes never leaving hers.
"Robin... Steel City Robin..." he breathed out, and she felt as though her entire being was at his mercy thanks to his soft tone of voice, his aggressive rocker vibe completely gone. "I think I'm going mad,"
"Why?" she asked, and it took all of John's strength not to kiss the small crease that had formed in between her eyebrows.
"Cause each time I look at you I feel as though I'm going to explode I want to kiss you that badly," he confessed, and Robin practically breathed out a sigh of relief that they were on the same page.
"Well get on with it then," she told him bluntly, smirking.
She didn't wait for him to make the next move even with her command as she instead took charge for once, moving her hand to the back of his head, bringing it down to hers as she pushed her lips against his. It was like fireworks, like all the butterflies inside of her had erupted, like everything she had wanted and more. It wasn't like kissing Ant where it felt as though she was constantly convincing herself it was okay, it was everything she had dreamed of feeling but better, so much better. It felt right, and it felt wonderful.
For John it was just the same. He worried at first that he was dreaming, he must be considering how many times he'd fantasised about kissing her, but in reality she was kissing him. She'd made the first move, it was her who was doing this, and he felt as though everything had slotted into place. No amount of desirous daydreams could have prepared him for how it would be to truly kiss Robin, but all he could do was just follow his instincts, marvelling over her and the fact she seemed to want him as much as he wanted her.
The were both breathless, but neither one of them wanted to stop. Months of bickering and tension had led to this, though the past suddenly seemed irrelevant. To Robin, John wasn't just her annoying neighbour anymore, he couldn't be. No one who made her feel so right, so complete, could be something so simple as just her neighbour. It felt sudden to see him in a whole new light, but as he ran his tongue along her bottom lip, as she could feel his breath, his hands lost in her hair as she held him close, it felt as though everything had finally clicked into place.
Neither of them were quite sure how long they had been kissing, it could have been seconds or hours, time was irrelevant. All that mattered to them was the other, both of them completely lost in their kisses. Acting on impulse, John moved his hands down to her waist, lifting her up and placing her down on the dishevelled sofa in the corner of the room. He worried for a moment that he was taking things too fast, that anytime soon Robin would stop him, but she clearly didn't want him to stop, her hands guiding him the moment she was sat down on the sofa for him to sit on her lap, so he obliged, wrapping his legs either side of her.
"John," she breathed out, her lips barely parting from his as she rested her forehead to his, one of her hands stroking through his hair softly. "John, please... Promise me..."
"What is it?" he asked, concerned, pulling away from her slightly so he could tuck a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, savouring the sight of her face to close to his.
"Promise me you're not just doing this cause you feel sorry for me, or you think I'm easy, or you just want a quick shag..." she asked him, frowning slightly. "Cause I don't know if I'm ready for any of that, but I really like this, I like you,"
"And I like you, I'm mad for you," he promised, smiling at her as he pecked her cheek gently, feeling his insides buzz when he saw the way she sighed out a smile. "I've probably wanted to kiss you ever since I first saw you sat up in Al's tree like a bird,"
"You've been waiting a long time," she commented in amazement.
"I don't think you're a sad thing, and I don't think you're easy, and you're definitely not just a quick shag," he reassured her, making her smile again. "You're Robin, and you're amazing. I want to kiss you cause you're clever, you make me laugh, you're talented and hardworking, you're everything I never knew I wanted, and you're beautiful, so, so beautiful, Robin,"
"I don't feel lost with you," she said, hating herself for not being able to find such sweet words like he had done. "You wind me up, and you're irritating, but you make me feel so safe, and so wanted,"
"See I wouldn't want it any other way," he teased, clearly enjoying the fact he wound her up.
He pushed his lips to hers again, and though it was intended to just be a soft, caring kiss to demonstrate the truth of his words, the passion quickly built once more. It was as if they were letting out all their pent up desire, as if they were finally letting themselves go and showing their true selves. Their mouths worked in-sync, and completely enraptured by each other, Robin barely noticed John's hands beginning to unbutton her dress, or one of her own hands trying to work off his leather jacket while the other pulled at his hair. She let out a quiet sigh of pleasure, never feeling so alive before, but they were suddenly interrupted as a loud bang came at the door.
"Oi, Lennon!" a loud voice that sounded like Paul's called, and John cursed as he jumped off the sofa in shock. "Come on, you only went for a cig, you're missing the whole set!"
"Fuck off, Paul, I'll be out in a minute!" John called back angrily, quickly fixing his hair and shrugging his jacket back into place before he glanced down at Robin.
He looked almost disappointed, but the moment was over. If Paul hadn't interrupted them who knew what would have happened, but Robin felt dazed. It seemed to have escalated so quickly, and her heart was still pounding in adrenaline. She got to her feet, a little shaky, and as she buttoned her dress back up, she ran a hand through her hair, trying to neaten it, her mind trying to process what had happened.
Not only had John kissed her, but he'd told her he liked her. He'd said things about her that no one had really said before, and he seemed to care like no one had done too. Now the moment had passed she found herself struggling to meet his eye, but she couldn't help but look at him as he nudged her arm.
"Y'alright?" he asked cautiously.
"Yeah, fine, you?" she asked, and when he nodded she offered him a small smile. "Sorry, I don't really know what came over me,"
"I don't think you have any need to apologize, Robin," he reassured her. "No one's ever kissed me like that before,"
"Me too," she bit back a grin, running a hand through her hair again before she seemed to blush. "D'you think people will know?"
"Nah, we'll tell them we had a smoke together then you went to the loo while I had another smoke," he shrugged, coming up with the seamless lie quickly as he smirked at her. "This can be our little secret,"
***
Word count: 4605
***