𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 - 𝐇𝐨𝐰 || 𝐆𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧

Chapter 3: A 1000 Times

«𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵
𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦
𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮
𝘈 1000 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴»

...

Gently, George led her into the studios. 

Rebecca still feeling terrified and over all worried. It was too much to process. She shouldn't be in that place because she didn't know what the consequences would be. Making her anxious.

The boy guided her to a small space they use for eat where there were some drawers and a table with six chairs, also a small stove. After making sure she was seated he quickly put the kettle on. 

He was so intrigued and strangely nervous. He'd always been nice, but since the mania started and he was being chased by crowds of fans and photographers, he had to be more cautious.

The girl looked out of this world, not in a bad way, but she looked disoriented and the fact of any kind of thing might happen to her worried him. Besides, something about her told him she didn't recognize him or at least she didn't care at all. 

When he looked at her, he just saw a little bunny in distress. Making George feeling insane tickles in the stomach.

As they silently waited for the water to boil, the dark-haired boy approached with a small box with a red cross on it, sat next to her as he opened a packet of cotton and dipped it in rubbing alcohol. He gave her a look like asking for permission to touch her. Rebecca nodded chary.

At the contact with the cold shooting liquid causing her burning she let out a groan, furrowing her forehead a bit. George gently healed her wound with an apologetic smile. 

"So, Rebecca..." he said in a soft voice making her shiver with goosebumps. "Where ye from? Ye don't sound very posh"

Rebecca laughed. Posh.

"Maybe it's because I'm not" she said with a giggle and then continued "No, I'm from ... 'murica"

"Murica?" he said surprised "United States of America?" He fixed his gaze at her intrigued, giving the last touches to her cheekbone.

The girl shook her head. "No, no" she laughed at her explanation. "I'm from Mexico, that is in America"

George grinned again; a bit embarrassed by his few geographical knowledge. 

"Right,"

There was another silence, nobody said a thing. Rebecca kept looking at him in disbelief of what was happening.

Not just a Beatle, but her favourite was in front of her healing her lesion, touching her cheek with much care as if he feared to harm. And looking at her... she didn't know how to describe how; it was just breath-taking.

Was he doing it on purpose?

She stared at him for a while until their gazes met again and quickly lowered her eyes, blushing. The sound of the kettle about to explode broke everything, George got up from his seat reluctantly, to pour two cups and return with them.