Anxiety | Starrison [❓]

t w o

as expected, paul's apartment was chock full of sweaty bodies, earth shattering music, and, of course, blinding rainbow light. and that was just the view from the doorway.

why did he agree again?

george placed his slightly sweaty hands in his pockets so he wouldn't fidget with his shirt. again. and he was about to go back out the door when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"geo!" paul greeted, a tipsy grin slicing his chubby cheeks. "come in, mate!"

nope. no no no ain't no way am i going in i'm going to suffocate in there---

"alright."

then paul started to lead him through dancing bodies (george's chest tightened painfully when he had to squeeze through two people) and introduced george to some of them.

"this is may--- aubrey--- jesse--- carl--- amy---"

all he could managed was a small, painfully awkward smile and tried to fight the blush threatening to appear on his cheeks when he heard one girl giggle at him. his head was spinning, ears a bit ringing from the too loud music. and all george wanted was to go home and listen to his indie collection and smoke a cigarette or two.

but he didn't want to say that in fear of paul thinking that he was ungrateful. so instead of telling him that, he went over to the bar and tried to make the best of his situation.

it wasn't like he was ungrateful or anything, george just really, really disliked parties. but paul was his friend and george loved him too much. as a brother of course. no homo. george wasn't gay.

when he felt something nudge his shoulder, his whole body froze.

"oh, sorry about that," came the giggly reply. jesus christ, everyone was giggly at this party.

george bit his lip. "i-it's f-fine." he felt his face grow red when he heard another giggle. curse his tied-up-tongue. and he bit his lip harder when, out in the corner of his eye, the bloke sat down beside him. he couldn't help but fiddle with the shot glass, cursing himself mentally when his hands started to shake.

"i'm ringo," the bloke greeted, thankfully not noticing george's little mannerisms. "ringo starkey."

he nervously licked his chapped lips, forcing himself to look at the guy.

ringo had messy hair, that was his first thought. not disgusting messy but the kind of hair that you wanted to floof and play around with.

then he had really pretty blue eyes. the sort of eyes that'll keep you captivated just with a glance. and he had a big nose, yeah, but that didn't diminish the fact that he was helluva cute.

so much for not being gay, george thought, blushing hard in embarrasment when he realized he hasn't introduced himself. god, kill me now.

"i'm... george." he stumbled out, looking down his shoes as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. "george h-harrison."

the bloke gives him a warm smile that definitely didn't make george's heart skip a beat.

"tell me about yourself," he says in a soft, smooth tone that definitely didn't make him swoon, eyes shining like sapphires all on him.

george felt the familiar feeling of heat rise up his neck and into his cheeks. and he couldn't help but stammer like an idiot.

"i-i... uh... u-uhm..."