Eighty two

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"What's this?" Ringo asked, confused as George placed the glass full of lemonade on the table counter.

George shrugged. "I jus' wanted to give you something different. I thought you were sick of the usual thing."

Ringo kissed his cheek.

"Thank you."

His lips left his face as quickly as it came.

"For what, love?"

"For not cuffing me to the table," Ringo bit his lip. "And keeping your promise." He added quickly.

George took a hold of his hand and kisses the knuckles.

"Anything for you," He murmured, lips brushing against his skin as he spoke. It sounded like another promise.

A promise he intended to keep.

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