"We shouldn't really...it's wrong" he said quietly, she nodded slowly "very wrong" she replied - but his lips were on hers and it seemed they would never disconnect.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Ivan was known across the whole of Liverpool, and now a little bit of London, for his infamous New Years parties.
All of his friends would come over and it would be like their very own Christmas up until the bells rang and it was the new year. It was also one of the very few times everyone came together again. Just like the good old days filed into the Vaughan's front room singing songs and poking fun at one another.
Isabelle couldn't wait.
She knew George would be there as the rest of the band had rsvp'ed and where three went of course the fourth would go to.
The two had spoke since Christmas, every day actually, he liked to speak to Darcy and Isabelle secretly loved hearing his steady breathing on the other side of the line. Not to her knowledge, but george thought the same of her.
𖣘
Isabelle pulled the straightener from her hair and sighed as she looked herself over in the mirror.
She glanced at the green silk box sat on her dresser inside her childhood bedroom and reached for it slowly.
The necklace was beautiful, and it did cost him so much money, and it had made her insides flutter slightly at thought of him wanting to win her back.
Just as a worldwind of scouse bickering exitted a wildly patterned car infront of the Vaughan's house, Isabelle finished clasping the jewled piece at the back of her neck.
She smiled. Widely. Before she rushed to pull at her blinds and glance down at the familiar faces below.
"Ohhhh Vaughans!"
"John!" the woman grinned as she rushed down the stairs to envelope him in her arms, the man grinned back while Paul made his way through the crowd to find the boose being held in the kitchen, a small gift bag in his right hand and a huge one in the other.
"Look who it is!" John grinned as she pulled back, "Loverboy's outside pouting about something, i was going to let you deal with it" and with a pat to her head, the rythmic guitarist stalked off to annoy somebody else.
The 'pouting boy' was stood on the front step with a fag in hand when Isabelle walked out.
It was quiet, George looked her over with a smile.
"You look lovely" he stated. Genuinely.
Isabelle blushed while fidgetting with the ring around her neck.
"I visited Darcy at me mums- spent the day there before John picked me up...Richie's inside, love"
In George's mind she would have wanted to see Richie not him, understandably so.
"I know" the woman responded quietly, "I seen him pretending to fight Ivan in the other room- it feels weird, you know? All of us being back here, where it all started" her announcement was one, almost of melancholy. As she sighed and looked up at the sky.
George nodded as he put his cigarette out.
"Everything's changed now Izzy, and I wish I could change it back"
𖣘
After a night of drinking and dancing and laughter, they all began to gather around the tv to spectate the fireworks due to happen in a few minutes time. All except Isabelle who was making a tray of champagne flutes in the kitchen, Paul approached slowly to give her a hand.
"Miss Harris-Vaugha-" the man trailed off awkwardly as he greeted her, Isabelle giggled, "Harrison is fine Paul" the bassist sighed in relief.
"Good, Linda told me to watch what I said and if she found out I had done that she would go off on one-"
"That doesn't sound like Linda" Isabelle teased, though she was correct, Paul gasped dramatically "oh she's different behind closed doors izzy!" he joked while popping another bottle– some cheers errupted at the sound followed by Priscilla's yell of "that better not have hit my ceiling Macca!"
"George hasn't been the same you know?"
"Paul-"
"He loves you isabelle. And I'm getting fed up of this, the man deserves it alright?! But he loves you and you love him unconditionally..." His random authorative tone calmed down slightly, "I've always been sort of, jealous of you two. Nobody ever looked at me the way you looked at him or he looked at you. Just...why not let tonight be the night- A new year means a new start Isabelle. Please"
Just as he finsihed the counting down began, the musician pushed through the crowds with the tray of wobbling flutes in one hand.
As they reached four on the countdown Isabelle pushed off of the kitchen cabinet and in the dorection of the man stood peering out the window in waiting of the eruptions of colour about to arise.
And as the numbers ticked from three to two to one Isabelle reached him.
And her lips where on his.
Isabelle pulled a way after atleast a minute, the rest of the room still aounded out in the pair's minds.
George stood still, staring at his wife in disbelief.
"I love you, George...and I don't want us to be apart anymore. And I want you to see Darcy every day, and im sorry I didn't forgive you sooner-" he kissed her. And then he pulled away with the biggest grin to ever adorn his face since before the fight.
"You had every right to leave Isabelle, and you don't have to apologise. It was my fault and I promise to never, ever leave your side again- I-...will you come back to London with me? I brought a house and Darcy's room is already decorated-"
"Oh I missed you so much" she gushed while enveloping him in a hug while hot tears rushed down her flushed cheeks.
But they were back, right where it started in the Vaughan family home with the quarrymen gathered all around them cheering and yelling profanities as a sign of affection.
