John Imagine:

"Look at you."

John, startled, whipped around to face the source of the voice. Paul stood behind him, a sad look painted across his soft features. John narrowed his eyes at him, annoyed that he had been interrupted from taking his first glass of tequila.

This was a daily routine for him now. Ever since he ended things with you, he would head off to the bar and drink until he couldn't stand on his own feet. It was the only thing that could numb his pain.

"You've got to stop this, John," Paul told him firmly. "It's eating you alive."

John scoffed and turned his back on him, downing his tequila quickly. He winced when it burned his throat and sighed.

"I don't need you lecturing me right now, McCartney," he muttered.

"Why do you do this to yourself?" Paul said, as though he hadn't heard what John said. "You're ruining yourself, mate. This could kill you."

"Good."

"John!" Paul said loudly, growing impatient. "Would you listen to yourself? Put that down!"

He snatched John's second tequila glass away from him before he could drink it, making it spill over the counter.

"Leave it alone!" John yelled, standing up and glaring at the bassist. "You've no right to tell me what to do and what not to do, you hear me? So screw off!"

"John-"

"No, Paul! I'm done! I can't deal with-"

"John, shut up for a moment and listen!" Paul shouted, cutting John off mid sentence. John closed his mouth, surprised by Paul's outburst. "Look... I get it. You miss her. But you can't keep hurting yourself like this."

John was silent for a moment. Paul stared at him with concern. Then, upon realizing that his eyes had pooled with involuntary tears, he grabbed his arm gently and guided him out of the bar.

Once outside, John yanked his arm away from Paul's grip and looked away.

"I would've ruined her life," he choked out. "And I love her too much to do that. I had to end it with her, Macca, I had to!"

"How do you know, though?" Paul said softly. "How do you know what would have happened with you and her?"

"I'm a terrible person," John mumbled, quickly wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve. "I'm jealous and aggressive... I would've hurt her."

"John, I want you to listen to me very carefully, yeah?" Paul said gently, placing a calloused hand on his trembling shoulder. "The only time she's ever been hurt when she was around you was when you broke up with her. My God, John, she misses you. She still loves you. I saw her before I came. She's a mess without you."

When John didn't respond, Paul said, "John, I'm gonna be straight with you, alright? Either you go to her and make things right, or you go back in there and regret it for the rest of your life."

Silence.

"Paul?" John said quietly.

"What?"

"Where is she?"

***

You were sitting on the fleecy, lime-green sofa of grass in Strawberry Fields with your legs drawn up to her chest. You hugged your knees tightly and glumly stared up at the black, midnight sky. Stars had sprinkled across the atmosphere along with the half moon, brightening it up only slightly in order for it to hold the beautiful mystery it possessed.

You shivered underneath the soft, autumn night breeze.

"Is it for the best?" you muttered darkly to yourself.

Warmth had suddenly engulfed you when a thick black coat was draped over your shaking shoulders. You gasped in shock and tore your eyes away from the sky. Your eyes locked with a pair of familiar almond ones.

"I don't think so," John whispered.

"What?" you squeaked as he sat next to you. "John, what're you doing here?"

He stared at you in silence. He felt himself melt from your gaze. You looked so beautiful. Your hair was glowing underneath the moonlight, and your eyes were so bright with the energy only you possessed. He loved your eyes. They were so easy to get lost in.

"The truth?" he asked.

"That's all I really want."

"I came to reclaim what was once mine. To tell you that... that I could never stop loving you. I loved you when I first saw you. I loved you when we were together. I loved you when we broke up. I love you right now."

"Then why did you leave me!" you cried.

John sighed heavily.

"I thought I would hurt you," he said quietly. "I was always so scared that if I were to ever hurt you, you would leave me. I was so scared to lose you. And I was also scared of bringing you pain that you don't deserve. I'm a... horrible person. Bloody hell, I didn't know what I would've done to you."

"You're not a bad person, Johnny," you said softly.

"When I'm around you, you make me feel like I matter. You make me a good person. And leaving you was the biggest mistake I've ever made."

You leaned forward and planted your lips on his, kissing him passionately, savouring it, treasuring him and his love. He snaked his arms around your waist and held you close, deepening the kiss.

He felt warm again.

He felt whole.

He felt right.

He was a good person.

And he would not hurt you.

He knew that now.

For you were the love of his life.

@Catherine-the-writer convinced me to write a sequel, so I did! This one's for you! :)