Let It Be (A Beatles Story)

Chapter Sixty-Five

It was a bitterly cold November.  The sun had disappeared for a week, and I was starting to wonder if it would ever return.  

And as the weather worsened, so did John and Paul's attitudes towards each other.  

"John and Paul are at it again," Ringo said, during rehearsals one time in the late autumn.  George watched us as he explained to me.  But when I turned to look at him, he looked down at his guitar.  He had his guitar pick held between his teeth as he fiddled with the strings.  

I could feel the tension in the air rise as John and Paul approached the room.  "If they start shouting, it's best if you don't say anything."  I nodded, feeling George's eyes on me once more.  

The feuding Beatles walked in silently but swiftly.  We all could tell that they had been arguing mercilessly.  After another half an hour of rehearsal, they started fighting again.  Brian was the one to end it.  "You lot can go home.  Get some rest and come in with better attitudes tomorrow."  

Both John and Paul growled at him as they packed away their instruments.  They left before anyone could say another word.  

I debated walking back to the apartment, but I wasn't sure of the way.  Before I left, George said, "If you want, you could spend the night at my house."  I had a feeling that he wanted Paul to have some time alone time to calm himself, so he wouldn't lash out on me." 

"I'd...like that, George.  Thank you."

He helped me put on my coat, which was what Paul did after every session.  I felt a pain grow in my heart.  George was trying to be sweet, but I couldn't help but feel slightly guilty.  

It had started to rain when we reached his home.  "Pardon the mess," he said, sheepishly, holding the door open for me.  

"It's not a bother."  

Everything was quiet for awhile, with the exception of the rain on the roof.  I was sitting on the couch when George offered me a cup of tea.  I accepted, stirring silently.  "I'm worried about them."  I thought aloud.  George set his cup down.  

"They have rows every now and then.  They're never serious."  

I looked up at him.  "But what if that's what they will become?"  I couldn't see why I was asking the question; I knew the answer.  The fights would become serious in a matter of years.  I wondered if George even though about it.  

"You're not dating Paul or John." George said.  

"No.  But I think Brian might believe that."

"So it's a lie."  

"I feel like I'm always covering myself with lies."  I took a sip of my tea, and when I set it down.  George took my hand.  His hands were calloused, but gentle.  "All I can offer you is the truth." he said, brown eyes gazing into blue.  

He leaned over and palced the sweetest kiss on my lips.  I felt electricity spiral within me.  There was something about George's kisses that was incredibly passionate, but slightly forbidden, as if his lips were something so wonderful I wasn't allowed to have.  

"I had to," George said, "I'm not sorry." 

"You shouldn't be.  I needed it." 

I was so close to him; my nose touched his.  It was such a quiet, and I savorited it, knowing I would have to leave him in the morning.  

I knew I loved John and Paul; it was an ongoing struggle to cast away all my feelings for the lads.  But deep down, there was something there for George Harrison.