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Summary
It was Friday night, and the day had been exceptionally productive. George felt good, much better than he had in weeks. The constant itch of being watched had become like background noise—always there, but easy to ignore. He didn’t register it anymore.
Though perhaps he should've.
The street was quiet, deserted. There was no one around to see or hear what happened next.
Fic is on a break - will return when the Beatles hyperfixation circles back around. Idk when that will be. Maybe a year.