Forelsket (George Harrison)

CHAPTER FIVE

| FIVE |

GEORGE

Apparently, anxiousness had become an understatement to state, after I parked my car in front of the Jones' residence. I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants and heaved a trembling sigh.

Right, I was just going to return her bass, which seemed to be important for her; not me but the bass itself.

But the lads were obviously implementing my sudden visit as though it was a big deal; a spark of my love life, according to Paul earlier with an exaggerated gesture.

I scoffed.

The very least I could ever think of was entering a romantic relationship. Prioritizing our band's music career which had become a turning point of our lives, and my family, of course, were the ones written on the top of my priorities.

However, I would probably acknowledge the fact that there was a "but" in continuation of what I had said; perhaps, it was because I met this amazing, blue-haired girl and as of this day, this might be last time I'd be seeing her again, unless I'd take the courage and ask her out.

Well, I didn't know if I would. 

I turned off the engine and got out of the car with the bass in my hand.

"It's alright, George," I muttered to myself. "You're just going to return her bass on a normal, Thursday morning."

I started to walk towards their front door. Once I stepped foot right in front of it, I let out a sigh and rang the bell. I wiped my sweaty, left hand on my black sweater and ruffled my hair for no apparent reason. Still, there was no response so I rang the doorbell again. I stared on my shoes until I looked up, flabbergasted, from the sudden opening of the door. It was Emma.

She smiled. "Deb, you're –"

I wasn't able to greet her with a smile when hers faltered. Her buoyant smile was suddenly replaced with an utter affright.

I scrunched my eyebrows together in confusion. But then, I realized that she must have not recognized me. So, I removed my glasses and smiled at her, for her to recognize it was me.

"G-George," she stuttered.

I heard a faintly audible sound of our song, Love Me Do. I couldn't help but smile even more. Both of us were at loss of words to utter for a moment. I looked at her and notice her messy, long, blue hair that hung on her shoulders. Her eyebrows were brown then, my eyes caught her blue ones that matched her hair. She seemed tired and I thought, perhaps, I came in the wrong time.

But goodness, she still looked beautiful . . .

George! Remember what you were supposed to do here!

I glanced on my shoes and then back at her, only to catch her blushing. She looked cute when she blushed, though. Even yesterday, I'd caught her blushing and I tried to stifle a smile until it somehow betrayed me.

Both of us looked away and she cleared her throat just as I glanced at the bass in my hand and cleared my throat.

I looked at her and smiled. "Good morning."

"Hi," she greeted as she tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. Then she raised her eyebrows, looking at me expectantly. "So, what is Mr. Harrison doing here?"

I almost, almost, stammered for my response but fortunately, I managed to clear my throat instead.

The bass, George, don't forget the bass.