"No regrets?" John whispered to her quietly as the two of them were squeezed together in his single bed, her body still wrapped around his, her head on his bare chest.

"None," she reassured him, lifting her head and leaning up to kiss his cheek.

Losing her virginity to John wasn't exactly how she saw her Boxing Day panning out, but Robin couldn't say she didn't enjoy it. It had been unexpected, but at the same time was just naturally where there kisses progressed to, and John had been so careful yet passionate that she couldn't even consider regretting it. When it came to John there was no such thing as regrets.

The two of them were still naked, their bodies tied together in a close embrace. Robin desperately wanted a cigarette but she'd left hers at home and knew John's packet was in his jeans pocket, his jeans that she had thrown across his bedroom recklessly about an hour before. With a small sigh she knew she would have to do without, but that was okay. John's presence more than made up for the lack of nicotine. If anything he was better, because instead of having to hold a cigarette just to have something to do with her hands, John was still playing with her fingers absentmindedly, humming the tune of some slow rock and roll song.

If she thought he was addictive to be around when they were both acting normal, being with him in bed was something entirely different. Time didn't seem to matter anymore, all that mattered was him and laying with him in his bed. As much of a squeeze as it was being a single compared to the double bed she had at her Uncle's, the lack of room made it all the more special. His arm was wrapped tightly around her waist, as if making sure she couldn't possibly fall, while her arm was wrapped onto his shoulder, trying to feel as close to him as possible. She felt so safe in their embrace, and as he kept leaning his head down every so often to push gentle kisses along her hairline, she almost felt like falling asleep.

"You look tired," John muttered quietly after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"Yeah," she agreed, her eyes closed.

"Robin?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "You said the other night that you weren't ready for anything, are you sure what we did was alright?"

"John, I told you, I wanted to have sex with you," she said, her bluntness making both of them laugh quietly at the absurdity of the situation. "And clearly you wanted to have sex with me. The only thing I regret is not realising I actually liked you sooner or you pretending you weren't flirting with me constantly,"

"I quite liked pretending I wasn't flirting," he shrugged. "Made it all more enigmatic,"

"Fancy word, you sound like a poet," she commented with a laugh, relaxing as he ran his fingers through her tousled hair. "What do we do now? With the group, at college? Do you think people will know?"

"Not if we don't tell anyone," he decided. "Our little secret, remember? Feels more exciting that way,"

Robin agreed, deciding there was no harm in hiding whatever their relationship was from people. It was no one else's business at the end of the day, and the thought of people finding out made Robin feel uneasy. What she felt between herself and John felt so good and happy, but for it to become the topic of gossip felt as though it would cheapen it. It was their secret.

With that Robin decided she'd had enough of cuddling, and so moved so she was sat on John's hips, leaning down so she could kiss him. He was grinning, brushing her hair out of her face before his hands began to roam her body in a way that thrilled them both. They kissed, the passion building as if they were each other's missing pieces, though their adventure was disturbed by the noise of the front door being unlocked, shortly followed by the sound of John's aunt.

"Fucking hell," he practically gasped, especially as Robin jumped off him quickly. As soon as she was stood in front of him, naked, his mind went blank, his panic going forgotten.

"Oi!" Robin hissed, covering her chest as she bent down and picked his jeans and jumper off the floor, throwing both at him so they hit his chest, making him snap out his daze. "What if she comes upstairs? She already hates me,"

"She doesn't hate you, she just..." John tried but quickly gave up with a shrug, getting up from the bed himself and pulling his clothes on. "We'll tell her you were helping me with college stuff,"

Robin nodded despite being sceptical of the lie, but decided to focus on getting dressed. She couldn't find her bra, though John handed it to her after spotting it across the room. How they'd made so much mess while undressing each other, their clothes scattered all over in various piles, was a little confusing, but what was more confusing was the guilty look John gave her as she went to put her shirt on.

"Erm, sorry, Robin," he began, putting his hands on her shoulders and guiding to stand in front of the mirror. "I'm sure I've got one of Paul's turtlenecks lying about,"

John went to go rummage in his wardrobe for a jumper, while Robin stared at her reflection. Her hair was a mess, but that could be quickly fixed by running her hands through it. What wasn't a quick fix was the several bright red marks all over her neck and even her collarbone. She couldn't really remember John giving her that many lovebites, but there they were, like badges of achievement. She stoked her fingers over them, remembering the passion that the two of them had shared, struggling to pull her mind away from the happy circumstances that had caused the marks.

"Here," John muttered, handing her a high-necked jumper that she pulled on quickly.

"Is this really Paul's?" she asked, amused. "Do all you Quarrymen share clothes? Is that normal?"

"Probably not," John shrugged, pulling on his own jumper, and Robin tried not to focus on how attractive he actually was. "He lent it me a few weeks ago, when I was round at his and was a bit pissed, but I just forgot to give it him back,"

"Remind me not to forget it's his and wear it around the others," she said, her tone light and joking as she stumbled into her jeans, the two of them now completely clothed. "Everyone will think I've been shagging him,"

John let out a small laugh, stepping closer to her to adjust the collar of the jumper, making sure it covered all the red marks he'd made. Still so close to her, he moved his hands up from her neck to hold her face, just as gentle as he had been before, and without a thought he pushed his lips to hers softly. He liked that, kissing her on a whim. It felt nice to not panic about showing his affection, to just kiss her and hold her without the worry of the consequences. It was a little different to what he was used to, used to just fantasising about her. This new reality was much nicer.

She sighed, wrapping her arms around him, wanting to just be close to him forever. That was impossible, however, the moment the two of them heard a banging knock at the door, breaking them apart.

"John!" Mimi's voice called irritatedly. Robin looked at John with narrowed eyes, not wanting to be caught by his aunt for their previous activities, but at the same time wondering just how he was going to lie about it all. "Are you in here?"

"Yep, Merry Boxing Day, Mimi my dear," he called sarcastically as he opened the door just a crack, allowing Robin to go unseen.

Looking around the room urgently, Robin spotted John's college sketchbook shoved carelessly by the side of the wardrobe, a couple of pencils on top of it. She quickly but quietly pulled it out from it's hiding place and set it out on the ground, flicking through to a half-completed page, picking up one of the pencils and beginning to sketch out something rough.

"Where've you been all day? Not with that McCartney and your cousin?" Mimi practically demanded, though John didn't open the door any further.

"Nah, Con was out but I went to see Paul, did a bit of songwriting, not that you'd care too much, I know you think it's a waste of time," John replied flippantly, glancing down to Robin and flicking a smirk and a wink in her direction before he threw the door open, revealling her to his aunt. "Then Robin's come round to bully me into doing some coursework,"

"I prefer the term 'gently encourage'," she scowled at him with a small smirk, setting the pencil down on the page as she offered Mimi what she hoped was a friendly smile. "Hi, Mrs Smith, did you have a good Christmas?"

"It was good enough, thank you," Mimi replied, as cold as she had been before, but Robin didn't really mind, preferring Mimi's attitude to her mother's. "Were you locked out again?"

"Does it matter? I invited her here," John cut in stubbornly, crossing his arms almost protectively. "Robin's my friend,"

Friend was a funny name to give her considering what they'd just done, Robin considered, but she knew it was just to protect their secret. She couldn't imagine how embarrassing it would be if Mimi knew the truth, if she knew what had happened in her own house while she had been out. Robin cringed to think of how badly she'd be shamed, not just by John's aunt but by everyone else once they found out.

She briefly thought about her mother. Her taunts and cruelty had been forgotten in the happy little bubble Robin and John had created, but the thought of shame brought it all back. What would her mother say if she knew she had just slept with someone on a whim? She cared about John a lot, of course she did, but she knew if her mother found out she would shame her for her thoughtlessness. She'd probably remind her of herself, the mistakes she had made, suggesting that Robin was going to end up just like her.

No, she couldn't end up like her. She wasn't like her. She wasn't going to disregard her education for a man like her mother did, and she wasn't going to let John get her in trouble. What they had was different, and special, and she wouldn't let it be manipulated into taunts. It would have to stay a secret.

"Hmm," Mimi sighed bitterly, glancing down at Robin with disregard before looking back to John, her expression much kinder when considering her nephew. "If she's making you work then that's fine, heavens know you need someone to get you to put down that bloody guitar and focus on something proper. If you're going to be up here though you need to leave the door open,"

With that Mimi left them, going back downstairs, muttering bitterly about the two of them, and as soon as he heard her footsteps reach the bottom of the stairs John carefully closed the door to. It was open a crack, just so that he could say it was still open if questioned, but it was closed enough to give them the privacy they needed, especially since John moved to kneel next to her, pushing the sketchbook aside and kissing her cheek.

"Sorry," he mumbled, pulling his lips away slightly. "She can be a right old bitch sometimes,"

"She's mild compared to Mum," Robin shrugged, wrapping her arm around his shoulder, hoping the closeness would help her forget about everything else. "John..."

"Robin," he said back teasingly, pulling out of their embrace to lean back, practically laying on the floor only propped up by his elbows, grinning as he looked at her. She hated that she felt a blush rise up as he looked at her, but loved it at the same time.

"John, this... whatever this is," she began, gesturing at the space between them. "It needs to be a secret, for now at least. Until we know what it is, I don't want anyone else to know. I really like you, I do, and I don't want to hide, but..."

"It's okay," she spoke gently as she trailed off, offering her a reassuring smirk. "Until we figure it out, we may as well just have a bit of fun, but keep it between just us, right?"

***

Robin had been wanting to see John all day.

In fact, from the moment she left his house the night before she missed him. It had been like that before, missing his company, but she'd never felt that sort of longing. As she'd laid in bed listening to slow sad records, chain smoking and unable to sleep, her mind was laced with the thoughts of him. Sometimes her mind took her to the memory of them making love, other times it was just his name, repeated like a mantra. John, John, John.

The closest comparison she had was craving a cigarette or being hungry. It was as if there was a true need in her to be with John, or maybe the need was to just go back to the feeling he gave her. With him she felt different, like she was valuable to someone other than herself, like she deserved to feel safe and protected. She hoped she made him feel some sort of way like that too, but as she fell asleep to the sounds of her records, she remembered the way he'd called her beautiful and whispered her name in her ear as they laid in bed together, and knew that surely he liked her the way she liked him.

The next morning she'd woken up feeling foolish. She thought at first she was attached to him in a rediculous sort of way, relying on him as if he was a sort of addiction to her, but she quickly realised as she began work on a painting for college that he wasn't the start and end of everything to her. She had merely been caught in a high, but her mind was able to focus on her work, meaning whatever sort of relationship they had hadn't become unhealthy all of a sudden. Instead it felt more like a warm feeling inside of her, not as all-consuming as it had been the night before when the memories were still so fresh, but more of a lit torch inside her, the flames occassionally tickling her and reminding her of the reality, but not ruining the rest of her.

She could still focus on painting. She hadn't lost herself entirely to John, even if she felt as though she was falling into some sort of pit of admiration for him. Whatever their relationship was, they had reached a point where it was impossible to go back to how they had been. They'd confessed feelings, slept together, she'd lost her virginity to him, how could they ever go back to being friends after all of that?

Knowing she'd have to ask him that at some point, Robin decided that night was the perfect oportunity. The band had a gig at some club in town, and the two of them were going together on the bus. Even if the rest of the group were going to be there, Robin was sure an opportunity would arise at some point for them to discuss everything.

"Hey, kid," a voice called at her bedroom doorway, snapping her from her thoughts.

She knew without even looking it would be her uncle, though for some strange reason she found herself unable to even glance up at him. That was probably because he knew what had happened between her and her mother the day before and she was ashamed. Albert was their only family, and that was how they repaid his kindness of taking them in, by having a fight in his living room?

"Alright?" She greeted while still looking at her work, though she noticed him waiting in the doorway. "You're not a vampire, you don't have to wait for me to invite you in. It's your house, after all,"

"Might be my house but this is your room, I'd feel bad invading your space," he shrugged, though came in all the same, holding a box wrapped in parcel paper, though Robin didn't notice. Instead she was focused on the marvelled expression on her uncle's face as he looked at the various paintings around the room. "These are brilliant, kid,"

"Thanks," she smiled, hoping that he really was just there in her room to see her art and not for the purpose of a serious conversation.

That thought of dread quickly became true, as she glanced at her uncle and saw the expression he was pulling. She never really thought he looked much like his brother, but in that moment he looked exactly like her father whenever he was lost for words. With a small sigh, she realised Albert bringing up her mother was inevitable.

"Look, I know you and your Mum have had it really hard this last year," he began hesitantly, and Robin set aside her paint brush and turned to face him properly. "I can't even imagine how awful it's been for you both,"

"It's been bad for you too," Robin shrugged, biting the inside of her lip. "You lost your brother, then had to put up with two Yorkshire oiks move in,"

"I wanted you to move in," he insisted honestly, offering her a small, sad smile. "I've spoke to your Mum, and she said she's sorry for what happened yesterday,"

"That sorry she couldn't talk to me herself?" Robin raised one of her eyebrows, struggling not to scoff. "I appreciate it, but it's not your job to try and keep the peace or do her dirty work and apologise for her,"

"No, I know that," he nodded. "She's an odd woman, your Mum. She's very proud, doesn't like to admit when she's wrong. Whenever your Dad would write, he'd always say she was like a firework gone wrong. Look, my point is, she's your Mum, but you both live with me. This is your house now as much as it's mine, but I own this place, and I just want you to look after yourself and make the most of being young. If you wanna go out with your mates, that's fine, but if you wanna stay in and watch telly, that's fine too. Your Mum's not a dictator,"

"It seems like it sometimes," she said quietly, looking at the floor, trying not to think about everything John had said about her mother the night before.

"I'll have another word with her, get her to lay off you a bit," Albert said, and his words sounded like a promise. "We don't have to talk about her anymore if you don't want. Are you off out tonight?"

"I told John I'd meet him at the bus stop in a couple of hours, the bands got another gig at a pub across town," Robin told him, grateful for him changing the conversation. "He's invited me to a New Years party, if that's alright? It's across town at his cousin's house,"

"Yeah, course, I'd not put you down on the rota to work New Years Day so stay out all night if you want!" he encouraged, and she could tell he was eager for her to go out and have fun. "Besides, your mum's going out and I'm having some friends round for a party and I don't think it'd be yours or your friends' scene really,"

"I dunno, you seem like a cool guy to party with," Robin shrugged with an amused smirk.

She got up from the floor and stretched, glancing across the room to her desk where she'd laid her clothes out for that night on the chair. A black knitted turtleneck and a short white skirt with a pair or black heels, the outfit had taken her all day to settle on, mostly because she didn't really like the jumper, but it was the only one that would be right for wearing out that would cover the marks on her neck. At the thought of the marks she felt her cheeks growing hot as they were a constant reminder of John, and so she decided to distract herself by looking at her Uncle, which was when she noticed the package he was holding.

"What's that?" she asked with a frown, especially as Albert got up off the bed and held the box out to her.

"Late Christmas present slash early birthday present," he grinned. "I know your birthday's only like a week away but I couldn't wait to give it to you. I know you've been saving your wages for months..."

Robin felt her throat constrict in shock, her stomach tightening as she realised what Albert had just given her. Surely not, surely it was too expensive to think he'd bought her... She couldn't even think it, too stunned, until Albert held the box out to her further, her gaze flicking between it and his face. He was holding back a grin, as if so excited to make her happy, yet she couldn't quite believe it.

Even so, she took the box from him, trying to stop her hands from shaking as she unwrapped the paper, revealing the box of a Pentax camera. As soon as Robin saw the picture of the camera on the side of the box she felt as if she was going to scream, or cry, or both. She suddenly felt as though she was the luckiest person alive, sitting down on her bed to open the box with trembling fingers, desperate to see the camera inside because only then would it all feel real. Even then, as she saw it sat pristine in the packaging, the one thing she'd wanted her whole life, sat there just waiting for her to use, her hand shot up to cover her face in shock.

Albert was laughing, the same giddy laugh her Dad used to do whenever he got tickets to football away games, or whenever he got out of work early to surprise her after school when she was least expecting him. If she focused on the camera hard enough, she could almost trick her mind into thinking that it was her father stood before her, not his little brother, but her father would never have been able to afford a gift like a camera. No, it was Albert who bought it her, he deserved full credit. He'd not spared any expense, he never had done when it came to Robin, and she had no idea how she'd ever be able to repay him, for everything. A home, a job, now he'd given her the one thing she wanted more than anything.

Robin set the box aside and practically threw herself at he Uncle, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and burying her face to the crook of his neck, squeezing him tightly. They'd never hugged before, and he was taken aback at first ever so slightly, but soon moved to hug her back.

"You didn't have to," she breathed out. "I only needed another few months wages and I could have just enough-"

"Another few months would be too late," he said. "I saw that list of classes your professors wanted you to check out, and Photography was top of the list. I thought if I got you this you'd be able to take that class and not miss out on what you really want to do,"

"Thank you," she said, her voice shaking as she held back tears, knowing that the words couldn't sum up just how grateful she was. "Thank you, thank you, you're brilliant,"

"Yeah, I am," he grinned as they separated. "Come on then, I'll help you set it up proper then you can take it out and get some good practice photos at the club tonight,"

Instantly, Robin's mind was racing with the thoughts of everything she could take pictures of.

***

Word count: 4087

***