temporary fix || george harrison

18%

Juliet

"George if looks could kill..." I began, watching as the fool known as John Lennon, drag his feet along the cobblestone pathways of London. George yawned in a reply and his eyes droopily blinked at me.

"Hm? Wot? 'M sorry love 'm just so tired from pushin' the car all morn." George said in a rough sleepy voice that sent chills down my spine.

Turning my head to see Paul and Ringo mimicking John's tired actions, I sighed, coming up with a plan on the fly from preventing all four of the Beatles from falling into the river Thames.

The morning had came and brought with it a gloomy sky and no rain, so the boys pushed the mini all day, and into the afternoon, to a mechanic shop in Bristol then we took a cabbie all the way to London. As much as I protested that it was unfair of them to not allow me to help, they refused my aid in pushing the car and I ended up walking along side them, looking like a fool.

I wasn't nearly as tired as they were, but my damn feet ached something terrible.

Spotting a diner up on the avenue corner I grabbed George's lethargic hand and I pointed at the diner, Mickey's Diner, and he suddenly became invigorated at the very idea of food.

"Lads! Let's stop for some grub, yeah?" I shouted at the three walking dead-like Beatles ahead of me. They grunted in response and stopped in their tracks and waited for me to pass them.

I dragged George behind me and entered the diner with a heavy sigh. The young male hostess stared at me with an amused smile and a raised brow as John, Ringo, and Paul stumbled in with goofy grins.

"Table for five, please."

•

"I've never been so in love with anything never." Ringo mumbled with his mouth full of an American style cheeseburger, his eyes closed in pure bliss.

Paul didn't even get to have a bite of his bangers and mash, because he fell head first into the dish, dead asleep. Poor lad.

John was scarfing down his meal with no pauses to breath or even talk for that matter, and George, well he was already done with his meal. It took him not even five minutes to finish and for him to rub his belly in contentment.

George made a noise of contentment to me and I smiled softly at the tired musician. Watching as his eyelids become droopy once more, he laid his head onto my shoulder without any hesitation and quickly released a few little snores as he fell asleep.

"Cute lil shite aren't you, Harrison?" I whispered and laughed to myself as John scoffed, causing me to tear my gaze unwillingly from George and to the puckered face of John Lennon.

"Oh hardly, but if ya fix the lad up and pinch his cheeks he's a real dime."

I sneered at the infamously snarky Lennon and tossed a chip at his face and he playfully scowled at me- clearly feeling up to a bant. 

"Now that's no way to treat yer best mate, now is it?" John asked me pretentiously and my lips curled back in mock anger. Alright Lennon, if that's how you want to play it.

"Ya can't pitch just half into our friendship, it has to be a hunna, all the time." I said with a goofy grin, and the tilt of his head along with Ringo's meant that they didn't understand my future lingo.