𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘽𝙀𝘼𝙏𝙇𝙀𝙎 𝙄𝙈𝘼𝙂𝙄𝙉𝙀𝙎

don't pass me by | ringo ☆

era: 1969
name: evan
requested by: @Little-Beatle-Lover

"evan, i asked you something," ringo poked my ribcage as my legs were strung over the bed, faced away from him. my arms were tucked into me. it was cold. i remember that. "how was work?" he asked again, but i didn't hear the first time.

"oh, fine." i felt ringo's hands come around me to encase me in another hug. i shuddered, feeling his cool rings brush against my bare, sunburnt shoulders.

it was summer. the windows were opened and the wind was coming through the window like mad. i usually stayed at home with ringo and i's only child, millie. he called it work. "what's the matter, love?" ringo sighed into my ear. i rubbed my eyes, feeling his magic touch work wonders. he did this almost every night—rub my shoulders to coax me to bed.

"just tired," i lied. i wasn't just tired. i was stressed. and i knew ringo was too.

every day, he came home from the studio either mad, upset or near crying. i always asked him what was wrong, but he was cold toward me. i was afraid he fell out of love with me or something, so i quickly found myself becoming the same way. ringo only noticed when i didn't snuggle up to him or play with his beard and long hair every now and again.

"alright," he murmured. i laid into his chest as he massaged my neck, back and shoulders. it was heavenly after watching millie for every second of the day. she had only just turned three in june. it was already july. "how was she today?"

i let myself laugh, thinking of our girl. millie was just like ringo, but she looked exactly like me. same curly brown hair, blue eyes and a huge smile. but she got ringo's personality, sad eyes and liveliness. she was beautiful.

"she misses you," i commented. millie constantly talked about ringo. constantly. "today, she said that if you weren't here to kiss her goodnight she'd follow you to the studio tomorrow," i snickered, feeling ringo chuckle in my ear.

i turned to look at him, laugh with him, but soon, i saw his smile fall when he was looking at me. "have you been crying?"

shit.

"no." i wiped from under my eyes, thinking maybe there were leftover tears.

he furrowed his misshapen brows at me, and without warning, he cupped my cheeks in his large, calloused hands. he was suddenly tearing up for some reason. "evan," his voice broke, and i knew he was genuinely concerned. how couldn't i cry? "are you okay?"

i knew he knew. i couldn't say much at first. my throat got that scratchy, lumpy, closing feeling as i tried to suppress my sobs. to much failure, i collapsed in his arms. i knew he wanted to cry with me. i could hear him snivelling above me, brushing my hair with his fingertips.

i sobbed and sobbed and sobbed until i couldn't anymore. "why are you crying?" he sniffled, holding me tight.

"i miss you, millie missed you, but you're always at the studio. i asked you to take her and you didn't, and you missed her bedtime..." i rubbed my eyes again. "i've been in this bloody house for almost as long as millie's been alive, richard. i can't even go out anymore. and if i do, millie and i get mobbed by fans, bombarding us with questions about the beatles break up!" i sobbed.

"evan, i asked if i could bring millie, but they said no. trust me, i'd love to show millie around, but they just don't-"

"they don't value you, i know. you come home whining about it every night."

and with that, i became cold again. ringo stiffened and let go of me. i knew i said the wrong thing. he was always depressed and this is why. always the last member to be thought of, he complained. "well, i just thought that since i can stand listening to your bickering all the time that you should see what it's like for once instead of ignoring my thoughts and feelings," the whole thing escalated very much too quickly, but neither of us could stop.

"ignoring your thoughts and feelings?!" the audacity, i swore. "ringo, for at least, what, three or four weeks, i thought you were brain dead! you wouldn't speak or respond to anything i said! i've had to talk to a toddler all this time! do you know the toll of only talking to a toddler for months takes on you?! no! because you're at the studio all day, 'making music' when you know damn fucking well the other's don't give two shits about you!" i ranted.

ringo was hurt. if i hurt his feelings before and didn't know, now i did. his entire face fell, yet kept rising at every sentence i said. he was both angry and mad at what i had to say. by now, i had stood up and walked away from ringo while he sat on the bed. "well, she's my daughter, too!"

"oh yeah? when's the last time you spent fifteen fucking minutes with her then?" my anger was getting the best of me. i knew both of us knew we didn't mean what we were saying, but we were saying it anyway.

ringo looked stooped, but that didn't mean he would quit talking or trying to prove me wrong. "it's not all about you all the time! you know that, right? life doesn't revolve all around you! you cannot expect everything to go the way you like, because it's not reality."

"oh, how would you know anything about reality? you've been famous since you were twenty! you haven't even spent time in the real world." i shouted.

i didn't realise the level we were at, already fussing and arguing. our last argument ended in ringo leaving and millie crying for the rest of the night.

ringo wasn't in his pyjama's yet. i was only in a nightgown, and i was freezing. i put on a robe while listening to ringo defend himself. "that doesn't mean life's been all candy and lollipops, evan. y'know, you're right. the others just don't give two shits about me. i'm just the drummer. i'm always picked last. i haven't even gotten twelve songs on all thirteen albums. john has well over a hundred. do you know how it feels to just be ignored all day by everyone? watching the others bitch and bitch and BITCH?"

i threw myself down next to him. "actually, i do know what it's like to be ignored. it's been that way for however long you guys have been in the studio this year. you're just so suddenly... distant. cold. cruel. quiet. you don't even make time to play with our daughter, ringo. all i want... i just want you back!"

"i've always been here, evan!" he raised his brows hopefully. i shook my head, sighing. "sometimes... i guess i just get really caught up in stuff with the boys... and i forget about what's important at home. i apologize."

i longingly stared into his deep, baby blue eyes and smiled wistfully. once again, after staring at each other for a moment, he leaned down to kiss me. closing my eyes, i sunk further into the bed as ringo pressed into me more and more. he pulled back, taking me in his grip and turning out the lamp at the side of the bed.

i knew then that it was all said and done.

"i love you, evan,"

"i love you, too, ringo." he cuddled into my shoulder as i felt his hot breath fan out onto my neck.

finally, after so long, ringo was truly home.