John Imagine:

John could always tell when something was wrong, especially when it came to you. He knew when something was bothering you or when you were happy, even when you didn't show it. He even knew when you were hungry. He called it his sixth sense.

Today, he knew for a fact that something was wrong. You had accompanied him and his band mates on a tour in Australia. They had just finished their concern in Melbourne and were now seated around a table for dinner at a quaint little restaurant.

Throughout the dinner, you were quiet. Even more quiet than usual. Most days, you were chatting up a storm. You always had something to say. Not today, however. You were just silently nodding in response to anything anyone said to you. You were barely listening anyway. Your eyes were constantly staring off into space. John didn't think you were daydreaming. Something was definitely on your mind. Otherwise, your eyes would be more distant and hazy.

Not only that, but you weren't eating much either. You were simply absentmindedly playing with your rice with a fork. Your shoulders were visibly tensed up, it almost looked painful. You were biting down on your lip and rubbing your palms on your jeans, sighing heavily every now and then.

It didn't take John's sixth sense to understand that something was bothering you.

"Hey love," he whispered, leaning toward you so only you could hear. You turned to him with an arched brow. "Everything alright? You're hardly eating."

You pressed your lips together in a line and nodded, offering a smile. John deemed it forced. Your eyes usually lit up when you smiled. John loved your smile, your real one. It was so beautiful. You were the most beautiful when you smiled.

After everybody around the table laughed at a joke Ringo told, you suddenly stood up, muttering, "Excuse me." Then, you left the table in a hurry. John watched in surprise as you hurried to the front door and exited the restaurant.

Silence fell upon the table.

"What's wrong with Y/N?" Paul asked, concerned.

"She's been quiet, hasn't she?" Brian, the Beatles' manager, wondered.

John didn't say anything. He, too, stood up from the table and went to the front door.

Outside, he found you sitting on a bench by a bus stop. You seemed to be heaving in heavy breaths. John dashed to you and quickly slid into the seat next to you.

"Y/N, what happened?" he asked softly.

You snapped your head to him, your wide eyes pooled with tears. You were gasping and sobbing. Your forehead was shining with sweat.

"J-John... I-I can't..." you choked out.

John pulled you into his arms and rocked you back and forth. He started to gently sing in your ear as you gasped for breath.

If there's anything that you want,
If there's anything I can do
Just call on me,
And I'll send it along
With love, from me to you

John knew you were having a panic attack. You had told him before that you'd had problems with your anxiety when you were younger, and it reoccurred every now and then. Anytime you had an anxiety attack in front of John, he always held you in his arms and sang to you to calm you down. That always seemed to work.

It took a moment, but eventually, your gasping morphed into even breaths. Shaky, but even. You gripped John's sleeve tightly, trembling like a stray leaf floating in the wind. John kissed the top of your head.

"You could've told me," he said softly.

"I-I didn't want to b-bother you on t-tour," you croaked.

"Don't be daft, darling, you could never bother me," he told you firmly but gently. "Well actually, you could, you wee bugger. But you know what I mean." You weakly giggled. "Y/N, there's nothing that you can't tell me. I'm always gonna be here for you."

"B-but what if you're not here?" you whimpered.

"What d'you mean?" John asked.

"What if I was at home right now? You'd be here. What would you do then?"

"I'd drop everything and go home to be with you, of course."

"But what if you couldn't? What if something or someone held you back?"

"I'd fight them for you."

You peered up at him, your eyes red and your cheeks tracked with tears. "What if you lost?" you whispered.

John grinned. "Please, love, I never lose," he chuckled.

"But what if?" you insisted, swallowing thickly.

John stared down at you. You looked so beautiful under the moonlight and the litter of stars. He wiped your tears away with the pad of his thumb.

"Then I'd die for you," he murmured.

You buried yourself further into his chest, easing your shaky breaths. John rested his cheek on top of your head.

"But you know what I'm gonna do for you now?" he said, a smile playing at his lips. "I'm gonna order you the best dessert on the menu. In fact, I'll order you two."

You released a soft, watery laugh and glanced back up at him. You were smiling.

This time, it was real.

Requested by @LemonSwine. Lots of love and hugs to you, sweetheart. Everything will be okay <3