Flaws | Starrison [✖️]

•2•

The story didn't start exactly at the bet. George probably doesn't remember anymore but Ringo remembered just snips of it. Ringo remembered his voice, his Scouse accent. He remembered the way he got over his H and how his I sometimes turned into a raspy AH.

But the thing is, Ringo can't remember his face.

But he remembers the night at the fairground with the rollercoaster.

It was a two seater but Ringo couldn't find Rory, his best mate. Then the man in the uniform yanked his wrist and strapped him to the seat.

Ringo tried to remember how he looked like. Tousled, wild, black hair in between two thick eyebrows above a pair of piercing brown eyes. He was wearing a tattered leather jacket that looked a bit too big on him. A teddy boy, Ringo mused.

••••

"I'm George!" He grinned at him, showing off his unusually sharp, pearly whites.

Ringo smiled back. "M'Ringo!" He said over the noise of the fairground.

"They say this ride's scary as fuck!" George smirked, mischievousness glinting in his eyes. "You afraid of heights?"

Ringo shook his head. "Not really---"

"Bullshit. You're shaking!"

Ringo huffed, trying to look convincing. "I'm not!"

Then, like a bullet, the rollercoaster zipped and jolted, making Ringo's shoulder nudge against his as his chest hit the safety bar.

All the time, George was laughing, hooting, arms in the air as the cart went through the loops and the ups and the downs that made Ringo's stomach flip uneasily.

George faced him. "Hold me hand you fucking sissy!" He laughed over the screams of the people behind them.

And Ringo did.

And if he broke his hand all the while, George didn't show it.

"We're gonna die!"

"I'll keep you safe!" George yelled, hair whipping back as the cart took a dive down. "Jus' keep holding me hand!"

Ringo's fingers tightened around his. He was having fun, yeah, but it was terrifying. And somehow, he hung on George's flimsy promise.

••••

Ringo didn't see him again after that. His face was a blur to him, but his voice. And his Scouse accent.

Hold me hand you fucking sissy!

It was crude but... there was a twinge of caring with the mix of humor. Holding his hand, he felt the bloke squeeze back in reassurance.

Ringo won't totally forget that.