The Beatles Imagines ❤️

| George |

Maisa slammed the door, tears streaming down her face as she hopped stomach-down into the couch, burying her face in a pillow.
Maisa felt a dip in the couch and a hand on her back.
"Mais, what's wrong, darling?" George asked her, his voice laced with concern.
"My friends-well, not my friends. I knew they were those type of people-they were talking about me." Maisa whimpered, her voice shaky.
"How dare they? They're fake, Maisa. You don't want to involve yourself with those witches." George rested his head on her back, rubbing it.
"I know, I just wanted to fit in. I've known them since school. But, they called me an attention whore, and they called me ugly, and mean. I thought I was being nice to them." She cried.
"No, no, Mais. Come here." George got up, taking Maisa in his arms.
"You are gorgeous, first of all. And you are not an attention-whore at all! Whatever that is. You are selfless and one of the kindest people I know. So don't let those phonies talk bad about you. They're just jealous, honestly. I love you, ok? Don't ever think you don't fit it. I think you fit in perfectly." George kissed her forehead.
"Thank you, George. I love you so much. I don't know what I would do without you." Maisa kissed his cheek.
"We don't want to find that out, do we darling?" George smiled, kissing Maisa.