ℙ𝔸𝕀ℕ ⇒ 𝕁𝕆ℍℕ 𝕃𝔼ℕℕ𝕆ℕ

⋄ ⅩⅩⅩⅤⅠ ⋄

❝𝕹𝖔 𝖆𝖒𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖋𝖎𝖗𝖊 𝖔𝖗 𝖋𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖍𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖘 𝖈𝖆𝖓 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖌𝖊 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖆 𝖒𝖆𝖓 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖊 𝖚𝖕 𝖎𝖓 𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖌𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖙𝖑𝖞 𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙,❞

...

| December 4th, 1964 |

Charlotte's POV

They traveled in comfortable silence until she spoke again.

"So what do you want to do?"

"I'm not sure, I was hopin' we could spend the rest of the day together?" George's voice rose, as well as his eyebrows, hopefully.

Charlotte's heart melted and she couldn't help but smile at the adorable sight.

"What did Brian have to say about that?"

"Oh he said he was fine with it, told me to take the day off and 'spend it with me bird'," George used air quotes.

"Well that was very nice of him," Charlotte nodded to herself, silently thanking the man for releasing her boyfriend early.

"Yeah, he likes you, haven't seen him this lenient towards any of the lads before, then came you," He said sweetly, winking at her.

"Oh stop it, Geo," She blushed fervently, slapping his shoulder lightly.

George laughed, amused by her embarrassed reaction, and the sound was also music to her ears. They eventual meandered there way into a candy shop, both exhausted and searching for something sweet to munch on. The shop had a colorful sign outside the large, glass windows that read:

'answer a quick question and you get a free piece of candy!'

George and Charlotte had the same idea and they approached a cashier busy tending to a blonde girl. When the man finished, the cashier turned their attention to the waiting couple standing in front of him.

"Can I help you?" The cashier asked, sounding as polite as possible.

"Yes, we'd like to answer a question," Charlotte answered.

"Alright," He bent over behind the counter and retrieved a large bowl filled with plastic balls that had numbers painted on their surfaces.

The cashier dropped his hand into the container and rotated it in a circle multiple times, causing the plastic spheres to roll around. They pulled out a small ball and read the number aloud.

"Nineteen,"

In a separate container, there were slips of paper with small writing on them. The cashier removed one that had the number nineteen written sloppily on it.

"Which Beatles are left handed?" He asked.

"It's Paul and Ringo," George responded instantly.

The cashier took a glance at the paper and looked back up at George.

"One more,"

"One more?"

"Yeah, there's one more Beatle that's left handed," He sighed, fixing his striped apron.

"Uhmm, I'm pretty damn sure there's not," George chuckled, shuffling on his feet.

"The last name is George Harrison, sorry, but you don't get a piece of candy," The cashier shrugged, replacing the two bowls under the counter.

"I— I mean he isn't left handed—" He started, but Charlotte gently grabbed hold of his bicep and lead him out of the store.

"Shh, we don't want you saying anything revealing of your identity," She reminded him gingerly.