Ain't She Sweet

36

"That's why I'm the charming one." He lent forward to peck it better (which honestly, did slightly elevate me).

He gave a short sigh of admiration, terminated only with an oddly comradely pat on the back, as he began to slip away.

"Anywho," he said blissfully, as though he had just awoken from a daze. "I need to catch Brian, but please, stop by rehearsals this afternoon! I've missed that face!"

I nodded forcefully, slightly taken aback as I watched him take his leave almost as swiftly as his arrival, disappearing down the labyrinth of corridors.
Admittedly, he was just too lovely. What on earth was I doing feeding into the nonsense George had uttered? It was nothing but additional guilt to add to the burden already weighing me down this morning.
However, more pressing matters remained:

Now, why had George lied about going back to the room?

***

Fortunately, I caught Ringo on his leave from the hotel as he passed me by reception in my very own attempt to trace him.

"I require your council." I proclaimed earnestly, chasing flippantly behind him into the chilled outdoors.

"If thy wish it." He reached forward melodramatically, clasping my hand to rescue me from the deadly mouth of the revolving doors.

"My hero." I fluttered my eyelashes, as he wrenched my body from its grasp.

He laughed, shaking his head disapprovingly.

"So," he fumbled in his pocket in search of his lighter. "What's the issue?"

"My life is an issue Ringo. What isn't an issue?"

"True." He smirked. "But seriously?"

I shrugged.

"Well-"

"It's Paul, isn't it? Clingy bugger."

"What?" I scoffed, stopping in my tracks, merely meters from the hotel entrance. Childishly, I felt an immediate dissipation of our playfulness, replaces by slight, juvenile annoyance. "God not this again. No."

He lifted his shouldered indifferently.

"John? Being a moody princess again?" He paralleled, tiptoeing towards me under the dry shelter of the hotel after having jumped at the clashing of cold raindrops against his skull.

"No Ringo." I rolled my eyes. "It's George."

He paused, slightly puzzled, as he smoothed out the water droplets from his shoulders with one hand, while the other raided his pockets for his lighter again.

"But you get on so well with George." He said absentmindedly as he fixed himself.

"Too well." I stressed, striking up an earnest topic.

Immediately, his head flinched upwards, his pupils dilated with excitement, and his mouth twinged with a crude smile.

"You guys did it dirty, huh?" He winked, having noticeably forgotten about his witch hunt for the lighter, as his hands rubbed together in a scheming manner.