1967

alongside his band, john decided to become a teacher. he had the look and all, so he thought it’d be an exciting change— something interesting to keep him going.

and from the first day he saw you, sitting right at the front, a big, cheeky smile on your face and the other students making fun of you, he knew you were different.

very quickly, the two of you got very close. first, you’d stay in his class at break and lunch, you’d have inside jokes with him in lesson, you’d purposely get detention to stay behind with him. and it got to the point where you’d secretly came to his house after school, when his wife wasn’t home. john knew he shouldn’t be doing it, but he couldn’t help it. he was growing too attached to you. maybe even in love.

you were at his house one friday, after school, sitting on the counter in his kitchen as he cooked food for the two of you. you were still in your uniform, and he was still wearing his teaching clothes. occasionally he’d give you a cheeky glance, or pinch your thigh playfully, but other than that he was very focused on his cooking. he wasn’t the best at it, after all.

“d’ya like spaghetti?” he asked, leaning on the counter and looking up at you, a cocky yet playful smirk on his face.