I Need You

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Even though it was in the middle of February, the balmy midnight air reminded me of a hot summer night; nights where one act upon hormonal urges could rupture your growth as a functioning adult in society. Did the laws of humanity apply when you dabbled in Beatlemania? I guess not, since I was already breaking the rules of time. I shut my eyes to block out the reality of it all, or fantasy, I wasn't too sure.

George cradled me as he climbed the stairs to his room. I knew his mind was muddled with anticipation. He was also humming what seemed to sound like "I Need You." I couldn't help but to join in. He chuckled.

"I'm chuffed with you, ya know? How in the bloody hell do you read me mind so well?"

"What do you mean?" I asked as he let me down to unlock the door. My nerves jolted with the prospect that he would start asking me about everything. It was just too quiet; very unusual. I was surprised at the lack of fans that usually circled the gates outside, giving us a clear atmosphere to whisper.

"I've only come up with a melody for a tune. How would you be able to know it? Unless..."

George yanked me inside and slammed the door. A faint static from the TV gave the cramped room a slight electric charge; its' fizzle added to the pins and needles effect that the whole situation created. I expected for him to turn on his Valentino charm and strip me of my clothes just with his eyes, but he just stood there with arms folded.

"I really don't know what you want me to say, George."

"Just admit it. You spy on me. Little bugger."

My knee now had a fast throb to it, echoing my heartbeat. Thank the heavens he didn't go the route of guessing I was a traveler of sorts. I just gritted my teeth in a forced smile.

"Ha ha. Ya caught me," I mustered, using both of my shaky hands to point at him.

"Lizzie, love, you don't have to be a stranger. I don't bite. Maybe I could use a bit of help with things. From you."

He wrapped me in close to his chest, where I lost all sense of concentration. Never mind that my leg could fall off from imposing gangrene or whatever. My gut instincts synced with George's advances, and I wasn't sure as to what that meant.

"But first, cheeky bird, lemme help you," he softly growled, picking me up once more, and placing me on his bed. The softness of his blankets mixed with his comforting embrace gave me a sensation that only Paul had been able to create for me. I tried to protest this deception, but I had lost my voice.

"I know how much you love Paul," he mentioned, brushing my sweaty hair from my face, "but he doesn't understand what he's doing to you. Don't you know who that was, dear?"

My cheeks flushed with warmth, partly from embarrassment from acting like a total bitch in front of everyone tonight, and partly from the way George was turning me on. Something inside of me was changing, and he was the main catalyst.

A sigh erupted from his lips. He lifted himself up to throw his jacket back on. I knew he heard me mutter a swear under my breath, because he gave another devilish snicker.

"Don't be such a tease, love. Unlike ol' Paulie, I'm going to get you some ice to place on that goose egg of a knee you have there. I just have to find some as frozen as that Asher bird's heart."

And with such a quip, he was out of the room in a jiffy. I was left with an awkward, yet unsatisfied, ambiance in a stale smoky haze. 'Don't you know who that was?' Yes, George, I have always known who she is, I just didn't want to believe that after all Paul and I have shared with each other that he would still choose her. Maybe I was being naïve. I rubbed my face to erase the thoughts away again. My eyes shifted to the ashtray teetering on the nightstand, full of cigarette butts. The strain in my heart hurt knowing the consequences of that choice later on in his life. I closed my eyes to prevent the tears from escaping.

"Please hurry back, George. I need you."

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⏰ Last updated: Dec 28, 2018 ⏰

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