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Fic: Impressionistic Dreams

Title: Impressionistic Dreams
Author: Defect_no09
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: nude!
Summary: A morning spent in bed.

Disclaimer: I don’t own the Beatles. I’m not making a money off of this. And if you think I am, you’re crazy.

A/N: It’s my first Beatles fic! *throws confetti* I hope it’s good enough. Leave comments for me so I know how to better myself!


                                                    Impressionistic Dreams

   It felt warm, almost too hot, but I was still in a sleepy daze when my eyes finally opened.  My usually anonymous hotel room had been painted in gold and rose hues; colors so wondrously arranged that they sparked my artistic fire. Monet would be blue, purple, and green speckled with envy.  I followed the lines of the ceiling with my eyes.  The cracks seemed so soft and deliciously dappled as the drape rustled in the breeze.  Summer had been balmy so far in this foreign town; the air was full of bird song and smelled of the ocean.  The calm lapping of the breeze made my left hand twitch.  I would have really loved to write a poetic song about the gorgeous scene before my eyes, but I was currently locked inside a human straight jacket.  I could feel his face sticking to my back as he held me close.  His arm was draped just below my rib cage, legs sprawled across mine. Without looking, I knew he was nude.  He puffed a particularly loud snore in my ear, and I couldn’t fight the uncontrollable smile that took shape on my lips.  Morning smiles were the greatest.  Lips cracking from lack of use, eyes squinting closed, gums exposed because for once there was no one flashing a camera at us.  I let my arm move to rest on his.  My arms weren’t any shorter or longer than his.  A mirror, a twin, a lover, a suffix, a sense of completeness.
   I didn’t look down as I pulled his hand closer to my face.  He’s always had such beautiful hands.  I flipped it up and saw all of the lines on his palm.  As I rolled his pinky finger in mine, I thought of all the paintings he used to do.  He liked to use big canvases just to see if he could fill them all up.  Once he brought home a canvas so large that he barely got it through the door.  When I looked at it in the morning, there was a teeny tiny picture of me.

   Picking my nose.
   I grinned at the memory and moved on to his ring finger.  Since it was his right hand, he had no wedding ring on---not that he wore it anyway.  I remembered being a witness to his wedding.  It was really nothing special.  Nothing at all, except for a frequent feeling of disembowelment I kept getting.  She said she would take him as her husband, even though he didn’t want to take her anywhere.  I stood up there in front of everyone and cried for all the wrong reasons.

   With a sigh, I moved on to his middle finger. The one he used most frequently.  I held back a giggle as I thought of how many times poor George Martin has gotten it.  I had the motion of his fingers burned into my eyelids; the way they scaled down his guitar neck and tugged on my heart strings.  I placed the inner edge into my mouth and nibbled on the callous there, a tiny bump from writing books, poems, and songs.  Every single one was written inside of his finger prints.  Every tear and every joy had leaked out on to the slightly salty oil of his fingertips. 

   As I nibbled on the rubbery bump of his middle finger, his index grazed my cheek.  My eyelashes fluttered down to kiss it before I brought it up to my range of vision.  This lone finger was absolutely the most important one.  I curled the others inward as I took it up and caressed my eyebrows with it.  I let it slide down the slope of my nose before it landed on my lips.  I left tiny butterfly kisses on the tip, thinking of all the love contained in that single digit.  It was the same one that used to jab me in the ribs as a boy.  It was the same one that has written thousands of love letters across my back.  Every letter began at my left shoulder, and ended at the bottom of my back; signed with a flourish and a kiss.  It was the same finger that poked me in the chest and told me we were going to be famous. It was the same finger that pushed my hair out of my face the first time that he kissed me.

   With one last kiss I opened my eyes and my hand.  His fingers relaxed in sleep as I soaked in my surroundings.  My rose-colored kingdom was growing more golden as the summer sun finally peeked over the horizon.  I curled into a tighter ball and his body followed mine.  I grinned as his foot tried to snuggle mine.  As I pressed his hand flat against my chest, I could think of nothing but him.  I wished with every fiber of my being to be his forever.  To have him etch his name upon my heart with his whispering fingertips.  To take nude photos of myself so the world could really see just who I belonged to.  And when I am six feet under, and decaying quietly, one name would be forever scorched into my sternum.

   “John,” I whispered to him because I knew he was awake.

   “Hmm?” His purr reverberated deviously through my chest and I smiled that lip splitting smile again.

   “ I love you.”

   “Hmm,” he sighed into my ear.  I could feel him smiling into the back of my head.  As traffic got louder, and the sun became brighter, he held onto me a little tighter.  I closed my eyes to the waking world, and listened to his steady breathing.  Silently I begged whoever was listening to please let me stay with him a little longer.  Please, please just a little longer.




( 14 comments — Leave a comment )
Aug. 8th, 2010 03:34 pm (UTC)
This was cute...a wonderful picture of both of them! I think that sentence sums it all up: A mirror, a twin, a lover, a suffix, a sense of completeness.

I first had to think about that right hand/ ring. We Germans wear it on our right ringfinger (in fact I do), so I mixed it up when I wanted to complain. Nothing to complain...

More stories like this, please!

Aug. 8th, 2010 10:47 pm (UTC)
Thank you VERY much! I'm so happy that you liked this story! I have another one completed and two more that I'm working on. Hopefully you'll love those too! XD That's really cool that you wear your wedding rings on your right hand. I wish we Americans could. Paul's was on his left hand as well, and I bet it was a PAIN to try to play like that. Lol!
Aug. 8th, 2010 04:06 pm (UTC)
That was a gorgeous piece of writing, Dear. You have a very poetic flow of words going on. Beautiful. :)
Aug. 8th, 2010 10:44 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much! This is my first one here, and hopefully I'll be able to write more!
Aug. 8th, 2010 05:14 pm (UTC)
Absolutely wonderful and perfect. :) This was beautiful and painted a beautiful picture of them. Nice job.
Aug. 8th, 2010 10:43 pm (UTC)
Thank you! Oh, I'm so happy that you liked it!
(Deleted comment)
Aug. 8th, 2010 10:42 pm (UTC)
Thank you very much! :)
Aug. 9th, 2010 01:32 am (UTC)
Awww, dear!!!

This was beautiful!!! Really, truly beautiful! Perhaps the most beautiful piece of fic I've ever read, and I'm not joking. It flows like poetry, and my heart tightened in my chest because I could picture all the details that you described so amazingly well.
Please, do write more! :D
Aug. 9th, 2010 01:38 am (UTC)
YES!! I'm so very very EXCITED! I'm seriously dancing around the room right now! This is a little something I wrote just to get my feet wet in this community. I wrote it in the span of two hours...but then had to edit it five different times! lol! I'm very bad at keeping things in proper tense, which is funny because I live in America. I SHOULD KNOW HOW TO SPEAK ENGLISH PROPERLY! Seriously though, I'm really glad that you liked it, and I plan on posting my other story that I have prepared tomorrow (it's my day off) AHHHHHHH! I'M SO HAPPY! OHMYGOD YES! XD
Aug. 9th, 2010 02:50 am (UTC)
LOL I'm so happy for you, dear!!! Please, do post more! You have a terrific style! :D
Aug. 9th, 2010 12:40 pm (UTC)
Oh, wow, that was beautiful. And I really love how the humorous moments pop in - the big canvas with the tiny picture of Paul picking his nose was so hilarious and perfect! And -
the middle finger - the one most used - again very funny and apt.
Aug. 10th, 2010 04:28 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much! I was hoping the humor would stick out a little. It IS John we're talking about here lol! Thanks for reading! :)
Aug. 13th, 2010 07:46 pm (UTC)
Fucking hell.

That was absolutely dripping with radiance. It's probably the most gorgeous piece I've read in weeks.

The images you have evoked in my skull have exhilarated me beyond belief. Thank you.

More from you, please.
Aug. 13th, 2010 07:50 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much! I actually have a little something in the works. I just have to get my beta to finish with it. Hopefully I'll have something by sunday, in honor of seeing Sir Paul McCartney in Philadelphia!
( 14 comments — Leave a comment )