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Meeting George was… Okay, let's face it, weird. Honestly, all you wanted to do that day was to buy some nice vinyl and go back home, listen to it and just have a bit of fun after school. Even though you have found your vinyl of choice, there was a gentle nudge on your arm. As you turned around, you found a smiley guy behind you. It was Harrison, you saw him multiple times in school, you even had a few classes together, but you never spoke to each other, only quick small talks about homework or upcoming exams. He was nice to talk with, you wanted to get to know him, but the way he was scanning your hands which were holding that one record… You suspected what was going to happen.
“Nice pick, I like them.” George spoke, pointing shamelessly on your vinyl record, especially at the top where the band's name was written. You were still new to the topic of the band of your choice, but you smiled nicely and nodded.
“Yeah, they are nice.” You admitted, not really sure what to tell him. What were you even supposed to say? That you're the biggest fan of the band you heard only a few times? So you nodded along to his every “this song is so nice” and “they have cool ideas”. Yep. Even when you had no idea what he was talking about and what song he had in mind actually.
Ever since that fateful day, you'd decided to let Harrison practically glue himself to your side. You had to admit, he was weird. A little too weird. But that was okay, you accepted him anyway, even if he irritated you sometimes - you did the same to him, and to make matters worse, you ate his snacks at school. He was talking your ear off about “his” (you did in fact let him call Lennon’s band that way, whatever made him feel better!) amazing band and you were still eating his snacks. Equal exchange, at least in your modest opinion. Maybe you even didn't do enough… You still liked each other, no matter how annoying you were for each other.
All events had somehow led you to this day. You were currently standing in front of Harrison's house, not for the first time, actually.You used to wait for him outside his house when you were supposed to walk to school together. As fate would have it, his house happened to be on the way, so you were the one waiting for him. Nevertheless, this was the first time you had to go inside. Walking through the gate was nothing to you, you had gone through it many times and you knocked on the door to ask Mrs. Harrison if George was up and if he was even feeling good enough to go to school. But that was something new, seeing the inside of this house. You didn't have to wait for the door to open, because when your friend saw you coming over the driveway, the door was already wide open. The first thing you noticed was the smiling guitarist, who waved at you and invited you in. He was lucky he didn't have to wait for you.
The reason you were actually invited was because George's parents were visiting his older siblings or something, and the poor boy didn't want to stay home alone and bored to death. That's why you were actually invited. Honestly, it's nice that he thought of you first and not his new friends from his band. Worse, if he did think about it and they refused to visit. Then George will have a real problem explaining himself to you… Luckily for him, you didn't even have a chance to find out. Lucky bastard.
“Hi, I was waitin’ for ya.” George announced at the very entrance, hugging you in greeting, as you both had a habit. At first, you had to convince him to cuddle, but once he got used to it... Sometimes it was impossible to pull him away from you. He even took you to rehearsals! You were often bored watching them, but sometimes it was funny. Surprising, wasn't it? Still, you had to admit that the band's music was truly enjoyable, and the banter they shared often kept you smiling. Truth be told, George was your only friend, and since you were friends with him, his friends were partly yours. Maybe in a few years, you'd get free tickets to their concerts? That would be lovely.
“Good things are worth waitin’ for.” You giggled in response and took off your shoes. Your first instinct was to look around the place.
The house wasn't terribly big, but you liked the floral wallpaper on the walls and the floral upholstery on the sofa, which you could already see from the hallway. It was sweet, just as you'd expected. It wasn't something you connected easily with George himself, but his parents? His mom was really nice; you might even have suspected she liked you. You didn't get an invitation to dinner or anything from her, but apparently she asked about you a lot, and that says a lot! She liked you, you liked her... Besides, what more could you ask for?
“I'll go grab some snacks, you can go to me room-...” George hummed and he scratched the back of his neck, realizing that you didn't actually know where his room was. “Upstairs, on yer left… Second door.” He finally explained, waving off his confusion. "Well, it's your first time visiting him, it's not like you'll suddenly know where everything is. Truth be told, you didn't need to hear his instructions twice, because you were already climbing the stairs. You were admiring every photo on the wall, carefully examining every detail you passed, wanting to revel in the fact that you finally got to visit your best friend's house. How exciting!
Your next point of interest was Harrison's room. Once inside, you looked at the posters and photos... And noticed that the walls in his room were slightly yellowed. There wasn't a huge difference between this room and the others, but you could see that slight change in the color of the walls. You noticed that ever since George joined the band, he started smoking. A lot. It seemed he had brought this habit home with him, as evidenced by the presence of several ashtrays on the windowsill and desk; one of them even held pieces of paper from flying out the window. Those were the ones you focused on the most. There were words written on it that seemed to compel you to read them. You pulled one of the pages out from under the ashtray and began to read.
After a few lines, you started wondering, could those songs be for you? It was not in your nature to admire what was only a suspicion, but you couldn't help but feel giddy. Idea of anybody writing songs for you… You smiled, clutching a single piece of paper in your hands. They were lovely, full of declarations of love and compliments that you wouldn't have thought of even on those good days when you were admiring yourself in the mirror. Oh, he loved you dearly…
“Okay, so, I didn't ‘ave any more biscuits ya like, but-...” You heard George's voice behind you and the rustling sound that signaled he had food with him. Perfect.
“Oh.” He stopped in the doorway when he noticed what you were holding in your hands. Judging by his reaction, you concluded that perhaps the song was indeed for you. The smile on your face grew bigger and you practically glowed with all the joy and excitement.
“Is it for me?” You asked with a smile on your lips that took his breath away. Both from fear and joy. He was terrified that you had found them, but at the same time delighted that you didn't look disgusted at all. It seemed to him that you liked these songs, even without the melody, as empty words written on a page during a time of dilemma and loneliness under the moon. He already knew very well, for that matter, what you were going to ask for…
“Pretty please?” You asked, watching carefully the way George was already putting down his snacks and was ready to bury his face in his hands instead of reaching for his guitar. He sat on the edge of his bed, which made a loud creaking sound. You couldn't wait any longer, and begging didn't seem to bring any pleading results, so you put the lyrics cards down on the mattress, right next to Harrison's thigh, and reached for his instrument yourself.
“Respectfully, no bloody way.” He was defending himself all the time, but the way you held his guitar in your hands... He immediately jumped out of bed and took the instrument from you, checking at the same time whether you had not accidentally moved the carefully tuned strings. Safety reasons and protection for his frayed nerves, you thought.
“Pretty please with a huge cherry on top?” You tried again, plopping down on his bed and handing him one sheet of paper with lyrics and some doodles on the edge of it. Harrison seemed to think about it and honestly? You knew that you had him in your palm. Whenever he considered something after repeatedly telling you "no," it meant he was having second thoughts. He really was head over heels for you!
“Okay… Just one song.” He sighed, sitting down next to you and moving the rest of the papers away, thus cluttering the entire surface of the carefully made bed. He probably cleaned the room especially for your visit...
“Two?”
“One.” He snorted, re-tuning all the strings. For his own peace of mind and to ensure the song would be perfect.
“Three…?” You tried your luck again, unsatisfied by the thought of just one song. You needed to listen to his voice and his music for more than a few moments.
“...Okay, two. Happy now?” He sighed deeply and you didn't have to wait long for him to start because just moments after you thanked him with a big kiss on the cheek, he started playing his guitar and the room was filled with music and his beautiful voice that you loved so much. You loved all of him, but when he sang? He sounded heavenly.
“You're the best.” You whispered with a happy smile as he played right next to you, his eyes traveling from the notes and guitar to your charming face that he had fallen so indebted in love with.