Flaws | Starrison [✖️]

•6•

"Ringo, I made pasta for dinner!" Elsie called out from the kitchen. She turned, furrowing her eyebrows when Ringo came in with a bounce in his step. "Ritchie?"

"Yeah?"

"What's with the smile? You're creeping me out, Ritchie." She laughed, placing the food on the plate.

Ringo bit his lip. "What time is Mo coming home?" He asked, trying to change the subject.

"Is it a girl?" His mother teased. "Your mother should know, Ritchie!"

If mum finds out she'll---

"S-Something like that." Ringo stumbled out, twirling the spaghetti pasta with his fork.

Elsie frowned. "Something like that? What do you mean?"

"She's..."

A bloke.

"Complicated."

"How so?" Elsie pulled the chair and sat on it, curious.

"Mum---"

"I'm home!" Maureen called out from the doorway. Ringo sighed in relief. "Is that pasta I smell?"

"Hey Mo, hi Pa." Ringo greeted, wiping sauce from his mouth.

For a ten year old, she was hyperactive for her age. Harry Graves loosened his tie and sat down with a grunt.

"Hard day's night?" Elsie said, kissing his cheek.

"Been working like a dog, darling." He replied tiredly.

"Are we going to mass on Sunday?" Maureen asked, legs swaying back and forth underneath the table.

"Of course!" Elsie replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Maureen grinned. "Can I wear my pretty dress?"

Ringo chuckled. "Not if you keep dirtying your clothes with spaghetti sauce." He teased, playfully jabbing her cheek with a napkin.

Ringo wondered if Harrison's family went to mass regularly on Sundays. Heck, is Harrison even Christian?

••••

Paul groaned and tossed the crumpled paper across the room.

George rolled his eyes. "Can't think of a rhyme?"

"You bloody know it." He grumbled before chewing on the already-chewed up end of his ballpen. "John'll be expecting a song by tomorrow, goddamit!"

"Don't use the name of the Lord in vain, Macca. It'll make God get angry at you." George joked, lighting up another cigarette.

The door bursted open, revealing the one and only-

"Macca!!!"

Paul uttered an "oof!" as a high John Lennon crashed into him, making the both of them tumble on the bed.

George rolled his eyes.

"Geez man, just fuck already." He grinned at their shocked expressions.

John giggled. "Geo's right Macca!" He bent in to whisper in his neck. "Why don't we do it on the road?"

Paul blushed, cherub cheeks turning red. "A-As much as I want that, Johnny boy. I need to get you home."

"Aye," George nodded. "You two need to get home. I need to get ready for school tomorrow."

"Eh?" Paul furrowed his eyebrows, confused. Something wasn't right with that. 'School' and 'George' didn't really come together.

••••

He made his way to the library. The librarian, and old woman with the name ELEANOR RIGBY written in her tag, gave him a nasty look. Maybe because he still smelled of nicotine.

George found him in the corner, peacefully reading a thick book that would probably take him ages to finish reading.

"Hey, Starkey."

He looked up and gave him one of those pretty smiles. It made him even cuter.

"Hi Harrison." Starkey beamed. "Let's get started shall we?"

"We shall." George grinned, pulling up a chair and dumping his bag on the chair beside it.