Shelter In Your Love (Beatles Fan Fiction)

34. If You Belonged To Me

You look so sad, you're going so mad, any fool can see...
You'd be happy as you could be
If you belonged to me.

For a moment, I can't remember where I am.

A strange bedroom. A strange bed. Not a stranger with me though. George. George is next to me, sitting up against the headboard, on top of the bedclothes, his legs crossed. I blink a few times. It's bright. He must have opened the curtains. He hides a grin behind the rim of a coffee mug, laughing at my confusion as he looks down at me.

'What's that?' I ask him, hoarsely.

'Tea.'

'Could have made me one,' I complain, tired, half asleep and short tempered with it.

He jerks his head, indicating behind me. I turn over, onto my back, propping myself up on my elbows, sucking air in through my nose, in an effort to wake up properly. George has put a mug of tea on the nightstand beside the bed. I struggle to sit, giving him a wry, apologetic smile as I pick the mug up.

'What time is it?' I ask. 

'Nearly nine.'

'I thought you musicians didn't get up til after lunch?'

'Yeah, usually,' George replies, with a half shrug. 'I woke up. Couldn't get back to sleep so I thought I might as well get up.'

'And get me up as well?'

'I knew you wouldn't mind.' He smiles, cheekily.

I comb my fingers through my hair, self-conscious of my appearance. George is already dressed. A striped t-shirt and denim jeans, nothing on his feet. I pull the bed covers up.

'Is anyone else awake?'

'No, except for Mal. He's in the kitchen, making breakfast. He's always up early.' He looks at me for a moment, opens his mouth as if to speak but then changes his mind, and asks instead, 'Are you staying out here today? With us?'

I sip the tea. It's hot and sweet. 'I should really go back. I haven't got a change of clothes or anything. I can't slob around in that all day.' I nod towards my blue dress, folded over the back of a bedroom chair.

'Why don't you nip to your hotel, get changed and then come back? There's a party later. Some people are coming round.'

I smile at him, hesitating.

'Not got any other plans, have you?' George asks.

I shake my head. 'No. Nothing. Okay, then. That'd be nice.'

He sighs. 'It'd be better if we could go out somewhere, really.'

'Out?'

'Yeah. You know, sight seeing or shopping or... or something. Instead of just lounging around the house all day.'

'You go a little stir crazy sometimes, don't you?'

George nods. 'Yeah. I think I do.' He drops his head, looking down into the mug he's cradling in his lap. 'You've no idea how good it was to go out for a while last night. Even though it was only for an hour or so to that caff. It must be how prisoners feel when they finally get let out of jail.'

'Shame we had to come back then.'

He laughs quietly. 'Yeah, I always have to come back.' He smiles wryly and casts his eyes away. 'Han, did you... Did you mind, last night, when those people thought we were together?' he asks, not looking at me, sounding serious, concerned. Unusual for George. 'Were you offended? I was just kiddin' around. I didn't mean to...'