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Summary
In theory, the one who should be in charge of starting that topic is Paul due to the fact that, theoretically, he's the most romantic in the relationship, but that's no longer the case, not since George started being cloying as a honey pot. Any melody executed on his guitar strings drifts into a gentleness that victoriously lulls some fear that may harbor Paul's spirit deep in his abyss, which is complex to brush against. Paul forgets the existence of the world and simply lets himself be carried away by his partner's inventions, listening with utmost attention to the chords that make up the blissful sound along with lyrics that wallow in the stupid tenderness of a teenager.
Paul is a complete moron for having realized so late the keen skill and agility that George's slender fingers possess.... Or well, l was so late, for, in the privacy of a bedroom it is not uncommon for George's fingers to draw invisible, swift strokes in their exerted movements on Paul's skin, snatching from Paul a string of moans of incredible harmony, as if Paul were George's secondary guitar.