Linda's POV
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"She said that her flight was gonna land today, where is she?" I demanded an answer while pacing back and forth on the wood floors, crossing my arms. It's a hot day as well, so there's a sound every time my feet unstick.
"Look, she can be slow at times. She might also be dropping Ritchie off at his place before coming back here. Just give it a few more minutes." George put a hand on my shoulder and Klaus handed me a glass of water. I gave him a fuzzy look.
"You're shaking, Linda. I thought the water would help," He clips his long hair back and continues. "Georgie, love, you look after her and I'll try and get a hold of Rory or John." George nodded with a light pink blush, Klaus giving him a quick peck on the cheek and walking into their conjoined room. He shut the door for some privacy and I fell back into the couch.
The water slid down my throat as a coat to my guilt and shame, being a bit dry. My nerves feel like I'm on steroids, it's embarrassing. The only thing I can see in my brain is my ebony haired beauty sitting on a plane or in the train station waiting.
"You doing okay?" George asks quietly, sitting down much more calm as opposed to my body flopping into the piece of furniture.
"I'm fine."
"Linda." Those reflective brown eyes search for me in this pool. His hand is warm, accidentally brushing against my cheek attempting to get the fringe out of my eyes. An itching heat gathers in my nose, as almost a block to the lump pushing in my throat. I shake my head to dismiss the mist planting itself atop my eyes.
"No, I'm fine. Mo is going to be home at any moment. This trip was just what we needed." At least that's what I'm trying to tell myself. I've spent way too many nights awake just thinking about what she could be doing in the city I used to live, often clung to a drink or the occasional dose of marijuana when John isn't home.
We just sit in the silence, George pulling me into a side hug and leaning his head into my shoulder. Air just passes through my lungs without a care and I can't think about anything. I take a swig of the water to finish off the glass. My legs unbend themselves and my body walks to the kitchen, but my head is still in some foggy land.
I haven't felt like myself without her by my side. And yeah, we only see each other in the mornings, evenings and weekends when one of us comes over to the other's apartment but still. Her dramatic flare is what gets me going when I really can't get out of bed for work. I get to see that adorable face after a long day at work, comb through her soft, black hair and feel her hand against mine when we go out on dates.
"So how's the job been going lately?" He gives me a half smile and his mustache curls up with it. It always makes me happy but today for some reason I can't bring myself to at least fake one. "Just thought I would ask." He defends his remark when I find solace in resting my voice. Without an answer to give he just goes on with the circadian investigation of his fridge to cure his curious mind.
"What do you think of Ringo?" The words spill onto the air hastily, before I even had the thought to speak. I place a hand on my face and gently nudge my forehead before he turns back around with ingredients to make a sandwich, minus the traditional meat.
"Honestly," He grabs a plate and slaps two pieces of bread onto it. "He is a good guy. He may be a little flirty but I've seen him do it towards basically everyone."
He went back to making his precious sandwich after that. I clench my fists, wishing my anxious nerves would disappear. My feet began sliding again, causing the thought of her in my brain to slough on and the heat to stick to my skin.
