John Imagine:

You nervously waited outside the Abbey Road studio, fiddling with your trembling hands anxiously. You paced in front of the door back and forth, unable to sit still. John would be finished recording soon.

Ten minutes later, the door opened. Paul exited with a tired yet satisfied look on his face. He stopped in his tracks, however, when he spotted you a few feet away from the door.

"Y/N," he said, surprised. "Didn't expect to see you here."

"How is he?" you asked nervously.

Paul sighed and shook his head. "He's a mess," he said solemnly. "He misses you. I told him to call you, but... Well, you know how stubborn he can be."

"He misses me?" you said incredulously. "He's the one who ended things with me! Does he have any idea how much he hurt me?"

"He's still in there," he told you. "He's packing up his guitar. Why don't you go in and talk to him? Maybe you two can work things out."

You sighed and nodded. "Okay... Thank you, Paul."

He gave you a sad smile in response and brushed past you. You took a deep breath and entered the studio.

Inside, you found George speaking to The Beatles' manager, Brian, and Ringo coming out of the bathroom. In a corner, you spotted John, packing up his instrument, and you noticed the exhaustion and misery on his features.

"John?" you called.

John snapped his head up at the sound of your voice. He stared at you with his mouth dangling slightly agape.

"What're you doing here?" he asked, his voice raising an octave higher.

"I... I wanted to see you," you stuttered. "I need to talk to you."

"Come along, you two," Brian muttered to George and Ringo.

The two band members followed Brian out of the studio after they gave you a small yet kind smile. Once they were gone and it was only you and John, John spoke in a harsher tone.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Clearing your throat, you said, "John, I... I don't understand why you broke up with me, nor will I ask you why. But I was hoping maybe, perhaps, we... we can..."

"Get back together?" John asked. When you nodded your head with hesitance, he let out a bitter laugh. "Get your head out of the sand, darling. I don't want to be with you."

You felt hurt, but you refused to show it.

"John, what have I done that was so bad?" you asked in a small voice. "I thought... I thought you were happy with me."

"I need you to listen to me, Y/N," he said coolly. "I'm not a guy who can stay in an intimate relationship. I want to have my freedom. Being with you would enable me from being free. Do you get that?"

Your eyes flooded with tears. "I... made you feel trapped?" you whispered.

"Oh, here we go," he grumbled when he noticed your tears. "Y/N, I can't deal with this right now. I've got to get up at six tomorrow for another recording session."

You glued your gaze to the ground, the tears dripping onto the floor. A silent sob left your trembling lips. His words stung.

"I th-thought you loved me," you sobbed.

There was a short pause. "I don't," John finally replied.

"But I still love you," you whimpered. "And now I hate myself for loving a man like you."

"Well, what do you want me to do about that?"

You peered back up at him to reveal your tear-streaked face. His expression was cold, his eyes staring daggers into yours.

Wiping away your tears, you hardened your eyes and glared at him. "I'm sorry I cared so much," you spat. "Goodbye, John."

You spun on your heel and stormed out of the studio.

Once John heard you drive away, he let out a shaky sigh, finally showing his weakest side to no one. His first round of tears welled up in his almond eyes. He slumped back against the wall and slid down to the ground until he was sitting, the tears streaming down his face.

Everything he had told you was a lie.

He loved you more than anything in the world. You were so precious to him. You were his everything, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He didn't want the freedom to be with any girl he wanted. He only wanted to be with you.

But he would have ruined your life had he stayed with you. He was a jealous, aggressive and impulsive man. You had witnessed how far he would go whenever he felt any of these. He would have hurt you if he never ended the relationship. And so he broke up with you for your happiness. So you could be with a man who would treat you right. Who would make you feel loved.

The truth of the matter was, John thought, you were too good for him.

"Y/N, my love," he whispered into the silence of the studio. "I will always love you, forever and beyond. But this is for the best."

My first depressing Imagine, oh my God. How was it?