Crackerbox Palace - George Harrison

Somebody Holding Me

I was jolted awake by a loud crack of thunder and I didn't know where I was for a moment. I looked out the large window in my room and could see the dark, almost frightening woods. The rain was still pouring down and showed no sign of stopping. I tried to fall back asleep but couldn't, no matter how many sheep I counted.

I swung my legs over the side of the bed and found a pair of fuzzy socks and slippers. I put them on and decided to explore the palace a bit.

As I walked down stairs, I heard soft guitar music coming from somewhere in the castle. I wandered around until I discovered it was coming from one of the large living rooms. Mr. Harrison was sitting on a couch with his back to me, facing a lit fire, and softly strumming a melody I didn't recognise. I wanted to listen, but didn't want to startle him, so I decided to sit down where I was and listen quietly. Of course, just my luck, my knees decided to crack like an old lady's and the guitar stopped.

"Can't sleep either, huh, Miss Margeaux?" He asked, not turning to face me.

"How did you..."

He turned around. "You're the only other person in this palace."

He motioned for me to come sit down next to him. I did so and noticed how the dancing flames reflected on his face and made his cheekbones look even sharper.

"Did you like the bath?"

I nodded. "Yes, thank you, Mr. Harrison."

He shrugged. "You're my guest."

I looked at his guitar. "I didn't mean to stop you, I just wanted to listen."

He smiled a bit and started playing.

"Did you write this?"

He nodded, still playing.

"What's it called?"

"Something."

I looked at him, wondering why he didn't bother to name it.

Just 'something'?

He closed his eyes and seemed to get lost in the melody, himself. I closed my eyes too and leaned my head against the back of the couch.

...

When I woke up again, I was back in bed.

Had it been a dream?

I looked around my room. The socks and slippers were tucked neatly by the bed, but the door was ajar. I glanced out the window, hoping that maybe the rain was done, though I could hear it loud and clear. I heard the same melody on guitar from the room next to me.

Would it be bothersome if I came to listen to him again?

I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway.

I put on the socks and slippers and left the room again. The door was halfway open. I peeked my head through the doorway and saw Mr. Harrison laying on his bed and playing the guitar with his eyes closed. Alright, If I just stand here quietly, he won't notice. I listened to him play the same song as last tie, this time humming softly along.

He stopped playing, opened his eyes, and smirked at me. "Are you going to make me carry you to your bed again?"

"Carry me? You carried me?"

He set his guitar to the side and sat up. "Did you think you had sleep walked up the stairs?"

"Well, no... you didn't have to."

"You would've had real bad back pains if I had let you stay in that awkward position you were in, love."

"Thanks."