Within You, Without You | George Harrison ✅

13

"So this isn't the date," George said as we sat down at the restaurant in a swanky hotel which looked like it cost more for one night than I earned in an entire year. "But it's a date."

I smiled as he handed me a menu. "I like the sound of a date." I told him, "but what about the date? Won't the press -?"

"Forget about them." He said cutely, ordering us a glass of iced water each. The waiter nodded and hurried off. "Tonight is about us, Amoreena." I beamed.

"So," I said after we had ordered our food, "you know we have to talk about it, right?"

"About what?" The waiter had brought over a bottle of some wine that George had ordered for us. He was currently sipping from his glass of it.

"About the divorce."

He choked on the wine but quickly recovered himself, somehow managing to not spill it on his white shirt which made him look so dapper and dashing.

"Why?"

"Because you're divorcing your wife -"

"You said that if I really meant it, then I had to choose you." He paused, "and I did." He paused again, "and I would. Every. Single. Time."

"George, a divorce isn't something small. What if, in a year's time, you decide that you're bored of me? What if you realise that you've made a mistake?"

"I won't." He promised me, continuing to drink his wine but laying a hand over mine, which was resting on the table between us.

"But how can you be sure?"

George put his wine glass down, the red liquid sloshing around inside of it. He smiled at me and I felt my insides melt. "Because, Amoreena, my love," butterflies flittered around excitedly in my tummy when he called me that, "your's is the first face that I think of every morning. Your's is the name that I whisper when I watch the stars at night. Your's is the only hand that I want to hold."

"George..." tears were fogging my vision. His words were so beautiful. Eloquent, sweet and honest. Perfect, romantic.

"And your's is the next name that I want to say at the altar."

And now it was my turn to choke on the wine. And I did spill it on myself.

"Shit." I muttered as I looked at the crimson liquid which was splattered across my chest and slip of material which barely covered my tits.

"Are you okay?" George asked, holding his napkin out to me.

"Yeah, just..." I took the napkin and began to dab at the material - but it made no difference. I sighed. "This is the only nice top that I own -"

"I'll replace it for you." George promised as he stood up. "Why don't we go up to the room and -"

"The room?" I raised an eyebrow. "You're a little presumptuous, aren't you, George?" I furrowed my eyebrows at him. I didn't like it when men were presumptuous.

He looked down at the floor, "Pattie hasn't had me back since the night I stayed at your's - other than to get some stuff."

"Oh God," I said, cursing myself, "I am so sorry, Geo, I -"

"It's fine." He bit his lip, "but if you want to, we can go upstairs and I can lend you a shirt or something."

I stood up and smiled, "I'm not really that hungry, anyway."

He grinned and held out his hand. I took it and he led me up to his room. We were in such a hurry that we didn't even bother to tell the waiter to cancel our order.