True To You

Chapter 33

George let himself fall face-down onto the large hotel bed with a groan, glad to finally get off his feet. They had been walking all day, going from one place to the next and exploring every church, fountain and statue on their way there. It had been fun though, and George was glad Ringo had been just as excited about seeing all the great sights as he had been, but that didn't mean he wasn't happy to finally be back at the hotel, if only to give his poor feet some rest. They were arching and he was certain he had a blister on his left heel. But it had been worth it.

Rolling over onto his back, he let out a deep sigh as he stared up at the ceiling, enjoying the softness of the bed as he thought back about their day. After they had finished their lunch at the Orange Garden, they had taken a tram to the Colosseum and spend a long day there, first queuing up and finally just walking around, staring in jealousy at the people who were allowed in the arena itself, down where all those gladiators and animals would have fought. It was a disturbing thing to think about, all those people and animals fighting to the death to entertain the wealthy, having to wait in these little chambers down below, which were about the size of cells. George himself had been happy to be alive in the 21st century, where he could just unlock his phone and play a stupid game whenever he was bored, no matter where he was. It had been wonderful to see, though, even if they had managed to get lost somehow and it had been rather chilly in the open air. Still, he hadn't minded the cold too much as Ringo had offered him his scarf and wrapped an arm around his shoulder as soon as he noticed him shivering. George had blushed at the gesture and had had to hide his face against Ringo's shoulder until he had regained himself. He never had anyone who'd be willing to show their affection so openly and George loved it, even if he needed some time to get used to it.

Dinner had been nice, too, and George had been happy when Ringo had let him pay without even questioning it. Even if he had looked a bit doubtful, the fact that he let him was enough for George. Then, as they walked to the Spanish Steps, it had started to snow a little, and even though it had only been wet snow, it had been the first snowfall of the year and George had been more than willing to use it as an excuse to let Ringo wrap his arm around him again, pulling him close to him to share their body warmth and so that George could lean on Ringo as they walked, his feet already complaining. At the steps themselves, they had simply sat down and watched the snow fall onto the ground and melt away as they curled up together and occasionally kissed, as it had been quiet on the streets, people preferring to stay in now it was snowing and late. The steps had been beautifully lit up, giving it something magical and though it was snowing, they could still see some light stars up in the black sky, making it seem like the stars were falling down around them instead. It had been purely magical. That is, until Ringo had whispered into his ear that he really wanted to go back to the hotel before he would catch a cold. George had been able to make them stay just a little longer, but after a short while, even he could not bear the chill anymore – the temperature going down quickly now night was falling – and they had had to go home. They had taken a small detour to walk along the river to their hotel, and although George's feet had been aching terrible during the whole walk, it had been worth it, the river being beautiful at night with the stars reflected in the black water, making it sparkle. It had been a day George wouldn't forget for a long time, if ever.

But now he was glad to be safely back in their hotel room, nice and warm and comfortable. And god, he'd love to take a long hot shower right now. He leaned up on his elbows to see what Ringo was doing, silently having hoped he would have jumped into bed along with him. Instead, he stood kneeling at the other end of the room, rummaging around in his suitcase for something, his back turned to him. Smirking, George let himself slide down the bed and onto the floor – there was no way he was going to stand on his feet now, fearing they might actually fall off if he did – and crawled over to the older man, silently to make sure he wouldn't hear him. When he was close enough, he raised his hands and placed them gently over Ringo's eyes, blocking his sight.