You Can't Tell Me to Heal

John laughed as he ran a hand through the ends of my damp hair, zipping up my dress in the back. After a nice, post-sex shower, John decided he was taking me out for dinner. We both had to be at the airport this evening. He was flying back up to Toronto tonight at ten, so Shannon would just drop the both of us off at the airport.

I was standing in front of my bathroom mirror, applying some basic makeup. “Avery…you know I love you, right?” John asked softly, slipping his arms around my waist to hug me from behind.

“Yes, but…oh my god, John, please don’t make me cry off my makeup. I just put it on, and we’re not even at the airport, a-and…”

“Ok, ok. I’m sorry, babe,” John cooed, kissing the side of my head. “Let’s get going.” We went to the House of Tricks for dinner, just the two of us. Shannon understood that we wanted to be alone for dinner. We would pick her up later, and she would drive us to the airport in my car.

It was hard to believe this was the last time we’d see each other for…a really long time. I felt like we were being sickeningly cute with each other tonight, but John didn’t seem to mind. And I mean really, really ridiculously cute – like, feeding each other, sharing drinks… I practically spent the night seated on John’s lap. Dinner with John was nice.

I kept him preoccupied and talking all about the tour. He said Augustana was just an awesome band to be touring with, but I already knew that. He told me funny tour stories here and there, talking about their fans, who could get pretty insane, and Pat’s Rat Boy antics, which were the epitome of insanity.

He also brought up the possibility of touring overseas. He said they would be starting in the Pacific, in Indonesia, Australia, the Philippines, and maybe eventually hopefully tour Europe. He wanted me to be there for at least one of his shows in Europe, and he wanted to spend, if it was possible, his off day in Europe with me. John was too sweet for words…

I hoped this long distance relationship would work.


The ride to the airport with Shannon was quiet. There was only the radio and John didn’t let go of my hand the entire time. We said our goodbyes to Shannon before getting our boarding passes and going through security. Our gates were at opposite ends of the terminal, though…so, we stayed at the little airport Starbucks together for as long as we could.

“Avery?” John said my name quietly. We were curled up together in a booth. I had my arms wrapped around him, snuggling into his chest and tracing his tattoos. I would miss this so much.

“Hmm?” I sighed, smiling when I felt him kiss the top of my head.

“Get up for a second, baby, I need to get something from my bag really quick.”

I got out of the booth so John could get out, too. I watched and waited as John got…a little black box out of his backpack?

“Baby, you’re shaking like a leaf,” John chuckled, taking my hand and kissing my fingers as he bent down on one knee in front of me. A hush seemed to fall over the entire Starbucks. “I’m not proposing to you,” John said firmly, his eyes traveling up to my face. I was torn between relief and disappointment, but I made sure I showed neither. “Your engagement ring will be so much prettier,” I heard him laugh softly as he opened the box and slipped a gorgeous vintage looking ring onto my right ring finger. He knew me so well.

“It’s…It’s a promise ring, ok? I wanted to give this to you before I went to the airport, but, yeah…I just… Avery, I love you so much. I know I write songs for a living, but, dammit to hell, I’m always at a loss for words when it comes to you,” he admitted sheepishly.

“I know we’re going to be apart for…a while, and it’s going to suck so bad, but, whenever you’re having a shitty day over there in Italy, I want you to look down at your hand and see this ring and think of me and how I love you to bits, and hopefully that will make your shitty day not so shitty…and stuff…” John trailed off uncertainly, blushing now and self conscious of our audience. “Avery…say something…”

“Something,” I choked out, feeling the tears in my eyes begin to spill over. John hung his head and sighed at my sarcasm, but his eyes widened in alarm when he saw that I was crying. “John, I-I… Oh my god, get the fuck up and kiss me.”

John grinned and got off his knees to hug me tightly, lifting me off the ground a bit. I took his face in my hand and pressed my lips to his, ignoring how everyone in the vicinity was clapping and “Aww”ing at us.

When he broke the kiss, I just buried my face in the crook of his neck and he held me in his arms like that for a while…until we heard that my flight was boarding. “Fuck no,” John growled when I grabbed my bags. The minute I was ready to go, John leaned down and captured my lips in another heated kiss.

“John,” I mumbled around his lips, trying to escape, but when I felt my back hit the wall, I gave in and tangled my fingers in his hair. I knew I couldn’t stop him once his lips started trailing down my neck. He knew where all my spots were… Then the airline called me by my full, actual name, asking me to report to my gate and board immediately since I was the only first class passenger that hadn’t boarded yet. “John…John!”

John finally pulled back to laugh and admire his work, my hickey laced neck, before releasing me. “Call me when you land?” he asked, walking with me to my gate still rather slowly. Anything to prolong the little time we had together.

“Only if you call me when you land…I know my flight leaves earlier than yours, but it’s so much longer than yours!”

“You call me first,” John said insistently.

I gave up on trying to argue with him and just savored my last kiss with him before boarding the plane.


I spent the majority of the flight asleep. I didn’t understand any Italian, so I was kind of royally fucked. I had an Italian phone that my dad gave me, and I turned it on when we landed. Renzo would be contacting me on this phone. My American phone wouldn’t work anymore…

Fuck, I forgot to tell John that!

Renzo found me like a heat seeking missile, and he was so excited to have me here in Italy. He helped me with my bags, and he drove me to this nice little bistro for breakfast…but almost immediately after eating, I threw everything up in the bathroom. Renzo held my hair back. He wasn’t such a bad step brother, I guess.

“Can I do anything for you? Get you anything?” he asked sweetly, his Italian accent coming out. I simply shook my head and got up to wash my mouth out. “Are you feeling unwell?” he asked worriedly.

I rolled my eyes, but didn’t let myself say anything snarky to my new family member.

“No…this place makes me sick.”