I Learnt To Love In Liverpool | George Harrison ✅

♥ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲-𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞 ♥

Emeraude's POV

There was a knock at the door and I sighed, turning to Mike. "Get that."

"You." Mike replied, chucking a few raisins at me. He'd been munching on them as we laid in the living room, the both of us on our backs on either settee, just listening to the radio which dad had set up in the corner of the room. Mike had just broken up with his girlfriend, so he was not feeling great either, and was exactly where I was going to be as soon as I saw George again and ended things between us.

"I'm having a quarter life crisis, Michael." I told him, picking up the same raisin from where it had landed on my chest and throwing it back at him, hitting him squarely in the middle of the forehead, "you get it. You're younger."

"I'm more -"

"Somebody open that fuckin' door!" We both jumped in surprise, and Mike's bowl of raisins fell to the floor, scattering its contents across the room. I jumped off of the settee and threw myself at Paul, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist as he held me tight. We were always so close; closer than Mike and me were, and I'd missed him the last few weeks.

"Paul..." I said softly into his ear, unable to believe how good it felt to hug my brother and unable to believe that I hadn't called him up to Liverpool before now. I could have felt at least partially healed weeks ago, back when I had first left London.

"John's in the kitchen making tea," Paul told me, "I thought I'd bring him 'long since he's yer best friend an' all -"

"Y-you brought J-John...?" I asked in disbelief, surprise and anger, though not at Paul. I was angry because I was sure that John could work out why I had left London, and yet he had come to Liverpool to see me... to bombard me...

"That a'right, Em?" Paul asked, gently disentangling me from him, "he usually 'as yer smilin'." His accent always grew thicker when he came back home to the city -

"Tea's ready!" I sighed and buried my face in Paul's chest for a few seconds, taking a deep breath and readying myself to deal with John Lennon and the inevitable reality of our kiss. I took a few steps away from my older brother and he stepped back so John could get in, carrying a tray with three cups of tea.

"Where's mine?" Mike asked, looking at John.

"In the kettle, son," John replied sarcastically, "now 'ead on upstairs before -"

"Give us some time, Mike." Paul said in a more affectionate way, gesturing with a shake of his mop-top topped head to the staircase in the hallway behind him. Mike sighed and skulked off. Paul took my hand and led me over to the settee which Mike had just got off of, and he pulled me down to sit beside him. John sat opposite us and handed over our teas. When we'd sipped at them and the silence between us felt comfortable, Paul put his tea down on the little table between the settees and asked, "what 'appened, Em?" His tone was soft and gentle and comforting, and it made me want to curl up into his arms, but for a change, I couldn't.

Because John was staring at me with a knowing look on his face, but he looked as if he wanted to hug me, too.

I turned my head to look at Paul and then stood up, smoothing down my skirt as I chirped, "nothing!" and sprinted into the hallway, shoved my feet into my shoes, and left the house, running until I was positive that they weren't following me anymore.

* * * * *

"Let me take you down ''cause I'm going to Strawberry Fields

Nothing is real -"

His lips on my neck brought me back to the real world and his hands running up and down my body from behind caused me to inhale in surprise before I shivered, his lips touching the shell of my ear as he leant down and whispered, "is this real enough for you, Em?"

John's hands dipped lower and began to trail underneath the fabric of my skirt, getting closer to my panties.

"J-John..." I breathed out, tears slipping down my face as I realised how loudly my heart was thudding in my rib cage and how desperately my core was clenching for him already. His lips were on my neck again, sucking deep purple bruises into my skin.

"Em," John whispered against my soft skin, "I love you... I love you... I love you. Let me do this for you..." one calloused guitarist's finger rubbed my clit through the fabric of my underwear and I moaned, my head falling to one side unintentionally as he increased the circular action and the tension inside of my body began to increase very quickly.

"John, I -" I was cut off by my own traitorous body as it caused me to moan, John's finger slipped under the fabric of my panties and threatened to dip into my already-clenching, dripping wet hole.

"God," he said as he increased his movements, "you're so beautiful like this. I wish I could see your cunt clenching so good fer me." His finger had slipped inside and he was shallowly fucking me with it, lazily even, making sure that I got off but as slowly as possible.

"John!" I careened as I exploded around his fingers, whimpering and crying out his name as he fingered me through my orgasm and then brought his dripping finger to his mouth to suck clean. I watched, turning my body on the old fallen tree so I had a better view. His actions were mesmerising.

When he had cleaned it as thoroughly as he intended to, he said, "let's go back to Aunt Mimi's." He held out his hand - the same one which had just been under my skirt - and I took it. He led me back through Strawberry Field and over the fence towards Mendips.