The Heart's a Tree (McHarrison)

I: The Start

His eyes flicked up, looking over to his mate who had mentioned his name in a statement.

"George seems a little tired, doesn't he?" Paul attempted to say quietly to John, who was seated next to him on the sofa in the lounge room of the studio. George simply looked at their direction, sitting on an armchair nearby.

John shrugged a bit, before sitting up. "You could say so, but he actually drank a little. Y'know, liquor." He informed Paul, unafraid to speak loudly about the young man. After all, he was drunk and it wasn't a sensitive discussion.

"You're talking about me, aren't you?"

George said in a low tone of voice, his eyelids threatening to close on their own. Damn twit, you had to drink that much, really? John thought to himself as he then nodded snobbishly.
"Why, yes I am. Why'd you drink before a session again? You know we have a record to do."

Ringo walked over to where the others were from the coffee machine, standing next to George's seat

"C'mon lads, lets not fight. Especially since he's drunk, I don't want any unnecessary yelling."

He said in a comically friendly voice. John snickered, "Right, right."

Paul stood up abruptly and smiled.

"Ringo, wouldn't you take George to the hotel room for now? Until he's better? John and I will continue practicing." He quickly asked the short man, who was now raising a brow at his sudden words. He nodded slowly.

"Yeah, sure. It'll only take a few minu-"

"Oh, take your precious time. You look like you need some rest as well, don't you think?"

"Well, sure, but- okay?"

Ringo finished their chat for that moment as he then nudged George, offering him his hand.

"C'mon, lad, lets get you to bed."

Ringo said with a small smile. George sat back in his seat, leaning a bit as he shook his head.

"No."

"Um, it wasn't a question, haha? Let's go."

"Sorry, I'll pass."

"George."

"Hurry up, Rings." John interrupted, his eyes fixated on nothing. Ringo nodded quickly and gulped.

"George, please don't give me a hard time."

"I don't have a hard time."

Ringo wouldn't have been frustrated if Paul hadn't been staring intensely at him, waiting for him and George to leave. He was going to use his hand to poke at George's cheek, but then something began to sting, hurt and spark.

Crunch.

Ringo yelled in pain, moving his hand quickly back while shaking it. George bit him! He was drunk, but god, how'd he bite it that hard? He looked tired.

John was holding back laughter as he stood up. "Harrison, come on, don't go bite ol' Rings here, lets go."

He motioned his hand. George sighed and stood up, fixing his collar as if he got into a fight. His dark eyes were on Ringo for a moment before facing John. Ringo, who had been rubbing and blowing on his hand, looked up and laughed nervously.

"My hand hurts."

Paul glared over to him, looking over to John again. "But we were going to practice."

John looked over to Paul's lingering eyes, and he felt weird. Why'd Paul want him to stay so bad? God only knew.

"Ringo's here."