1967
"Wait," she paused to study his eyes, watching as they danced with excitement over her face. Everything went by in such a blur-she barely remembered anything about their ceremony only the day before. There were foggy memories of flowers and singing, guitars and Paul's cheeky laughter. Her mother wore a pearl necklace with matching white shoes, and Aunt Mimi was clad in all navy blue.
The haze of the night, John's hands all over her, fingers running over her skin and kisses planted on her neck and stomach. The sound of his voice in her ear, and the smell of him..that smell she'd never get tired of. Witch hazel, dousing himself in it in the mornings because he loved the idea of smelling beautiful. He had bought her rose oil when she told him her favorite smell was flowers-of any kind. He'd told her that any time she wore it, she could remember how beautiful she should feel, because she was the rose in his eyes.
"Are we really married?" They had travelled to the top of a steep hill, flowers he'd placed in her hair struggling to hold on as she ventured upwards. They danced and danced to the magical music they created with their love.
He held her in his arms, and her white dress blew against his legs. He liked the feeling of her arms against his shoulders, her fingers rubbing small circles on the back of his neck. He smiled at her. "Of course we are."
He leaned in and connected her awaiting lips. It seemed as if anytime he flicked his bronze eyes down to focus on them, an invisible magnet pulled him in. He couldn't help himself. Nothing excited him more than to be beside her, hold her in his arms, breathe in the beautiful rose scent she held to her.
And people asked if they loved each other. Everywhere they went, Mr. Lennon, is that your fiancé?
Last time I checked, he would respond
She would sit and watch the t.v. with such anticipation her bones would rattle. Her nails would dig into her skin, awaiting to question she dreaded hearing, but refused to ignore; Tabloids all around the world have been telling stories about you cheating on her with other women, telling them you love them, would marry them. Is this fiancé of yours a keeper, Mr. Lennon?
And that would break the string that kept her together. Of course she'd re-tie a new one every time the one she had would snap, after John would reassure her it was silly reporter lingo to keep the cameras rolling.
Did she believe him? Not for a second. But he told her he loved her. And unless she had proof of these other women, she would continue to love him until the end of time.
This was based of a dream I had, except someone walked up and straight up was like, "Congrats Mr. and Mrs. Lennon" all serious like.
Thank you, mysterious man, for congratulating me and my husband of thirty seconds from a dream xx
Also, I added the smell part...I read somewhere that John and Yoko actually did do that. They would douse themselves in witch hazel and rose oil because they liked the idea of smelling beautiful. I adored that, so I thought I'd add it<3
