The ticking of the clock echoes in the solitude of the night, and you’re still there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of reality pressing against your chest.

John sleeps beside you, his breathing steady, lips slightly parted, as if nothing could ever disturb him. But you… you can’t close your eyes without seeing those looks.

The ones he gave Paul.

The ones he never gave you.

Every day in the studio was a silent torment. Watching his eyes light up when he talked to him, when they laughed together, when they argued and then laughed again, as if they were the only ones in the world. It didn’t matter how much time passed, how long you had been by his side you knew there was a place in his heart you would never be able to claim.

And the worst part of all was that you loved him.

You loved him in a painful, desperate, incurable way. You loved him even when he made you feel like a shadow.

You turn toward him, watching his sleeping profile, and wonder if, in his dreams, he has ever loved you the way you love him.

But you know the answer.