1958– christmas day

john was eighteen, meaning the two of you could finally move in together; into your own house. you, to get away from your many family problems, and john, the same.

living with him was good. sure, there were arguments and fights here and there, but you still loved eachother. and so much, that you spent your first christmas away from family.. with him!

to be honest— you were a little nervous about it. not because you didn’t trust john, no. but because even though your family was horrible and you had so many troubles within, you were attached to them. and occasionally there were little sweet moments; like normal families should have. especially on christmas day.

but you had to accept the fact that there was no more of that. you were growing up! which meant spending your first christmas without your family.. with your boyfriend!

you trusted john to make you feel safe— to make you feel that you were okay without family. to make you feel that christmas with him would be good too.

at first, it was planned to be just you and john, watching movies and drinking hot chocolate the night before christmas day, where you’d open gifts from eachother and kiss and maybe go on a nice snow walk. but it changed when he got an invitation to a christmas party, from his friend paul. for christmas day.

you agreed to go; you liked parties. but now, not only would christmas be away from your family, but away from your now-home, too.

yet still, you stayed positive. it’d be fun, right? surrounded by friends and chocolate and alcohol.

wrong.

john stayed with you a bit, holding your hand and showing you off to all his mates.. but then obviously he got carried away. he smoked weed and got drunk and laughed and shouted with the lads, all the while you sort of stood there, not knowing what to do. you were a bubbly person, but not when everyone else was drunk and you were alone and homesick.

you wanted to go back. back to your family, back to your home.

eventually, you had enough. your eyes were watering and you felt so small— like a child lost in a big crowd. you went to look for john. maybe he’d make you feel better. maybe you’d convince him to stay with you for the rest of the night, to stay together, like it had been planned.

when you finally found him, he was laughing and smoking drunkenly with his mates, and once he noticed you, he grinned, putting an arm around your shoulder and pulling you close.

“what’s with the sad look, love? were ya looking for me?” he said loudly with a slight slur to his voice, patting your bum and taking a drag of his cigarette. his cheeks were pink, his hair messy, and his shirt unbuttoned. but he still had that signature cocky yet cheeky smirk on his face.