Your Blue Eyes Ch.2

It was an incredibly long week for John. The days dragged on and on, and every morning he awoke, only to be disappointed by the fact that it wasn't Saturday. He endured multiple tongue-lashings from Paul nearly every day for spacing out almost constantly. In short, his days weren't very enjoyable. The only peace he ever got was when he was back in his own hotel room in the evenings. But, because he refused to speak to his band mates, he was excruciatingly lonely. The one time he felt slightly happy was when he thought of Willow. Sweet Willow, with her stunning aqua eyes, filled with innocent curiosity.
On Saturday morning, when he woke up, he was pretty much anticipating another horrid day. As he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, he suddenly realized: "Christ! It's Saturday!" He leaped up, banging his head on the ceiling fan. Cursing to himself and rubbing his sore spot, he unwittingly walked off the side of the bed - hitting the carpeted floor with a dull thud.
Hopping right back up again, he hobbled his way to the bathroom to prepare.


Willow sighed as she entered the bookstore. Where's Madge? she wondered. She's usually right here. Her eyes scanned the store. Relief flooded over her when she spotted the elderly lady behind a counter - but it evaporated when she saw who she was conversing with. "When do you think she's goin' to be 'ere?" John asked in a low voice.
Willow was about to duck behind the nearest bookshelf, but just then, Madge spotted her and said brightly, "Oh! There she is now!"
John turned around and his lips twitched into a smile as he saw her. "Hey," he greeted her, making his way over to where she was standing stock-still.
She cringed as he hugged her. "John…" she exclaimed in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
"To see you, of course," John answered. His smile faded as he realized that she didn't feel the same way. "You don't look very happy to see me, love," he commented, failing to mask his hurt.
"No, it's not that," Willow told him hastily. "I just didn't expect you, that's all."
He looked down at her side. "No book today?"
"Um…no."
He grinned. "Well, I ditched rehearsal to come 'ere, so…" He took her hand. "Come with me. Maybe the guys will be less harsh if there's a bird around."
Before Willow could protest, John dragged her out of the bookstore and set off down the sidewalk. "Where are we going?" she asked.
John looked at her. "Why, the studio, of course. Only decent place to rehearse."
Willow attempted to make herself smaller as she noticed people staring. She didn't like being observed. John placed a comforting arm around her. "Just ignore 'em."
Still, she was quite relieved when they entered the studio. She met Brian and George (Martin) first thing. Both were very friendly and sociable. Inside the recording room, however, the atmosphere was anything but. "Where have you been, John?" George inquired.
"Bookstore," John replied curtly.
Paul glowered at him. "Did you read up on "Ten Reasons Not to Show Up Late For Rehearsal"?" he growled, unimpressed.
"Nah, it didn't sound too interesting, so I skipped over it," John answered lightly.
Ringo, seeing Willow, asked, "Who's the bird, John?"
"A friend, Ringo, a friend."
"Oh, really? What's her name?" George queried.
"Willow. Y'know, like the tree?" John replied smugly.
Paul sighed. "Let's just practice." Nodding to Willow, he added, "You can just sit down somewhere."
Willow sat down in a chair rather self-consciously as they began to play "I Should Have Known Better". She squirmed uneasily, for John seemed to be directing the words at her. "And when I ask you to be mine, you're gonna say you love me too."
She suddenly wondered whether or not he actually meant what he was singing. Immediately she wanted to slap herself for thinking that. It's just not possible, for someone like him to be interested in someone like me, she thought miserably.
She was very relieved when practice was over. "Ha!" Paul said happily. "No "your blue eyes" this time, eh Johnny?"
John blushed furiously, looking down at his shoes. Willow, on the other hand, was confused. What did he mean, "your blue eyes"? Wait a minute… It suddenly occurred to her that they might be referring to her. After all, she had blue eyes. But even the possibility of it is very remote…
But before she could truly dwell on it, John asked, wrapping his arms around her waist, "Why don't you come back to the hotel with us? We 'ave space."
"I don't think that's a good idea, John…" Willow hesitated.
"Oh, come off it, it's an excellent idea!" he disagreed.
The others nodded. "We'd enjoy having you around," Paul piped in. "Besides, maybe you can keep this nit occupied." He jabbed a thumb at John, who pretended to look offended.
"I'd only get in the way," Willow argued.
"No, you wouldn't. Most of the time we get in the way of each other anyway," Ringo said.
"Besides, it's been a while since we had a guest," George pointed out.
When she didn't answer, John begged, getting down on one knee, "Oh, pretty please, love? You won't regret it! I'll drag you there if I have to."
"Oh, alright," Willow gave in. After all, how bad could it be? she told herself.