𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

GEORGE.

- 3 -
George Harrison.

Requested by @beatlegirl9

- thank you sm for your request! i had a blast writing this.

  *:･ﾟ✧

August, 1964

The hotel room was set to a comfortable temperature as the wind blew through the open windows and its curtains. The television flicked with black and white images, the sound muffed by a sudden fit of coughing. The master suite's door swung open in time, causing you, the one watching television, to turn towards it.

"George?" You questioned aloud. "Are you alright?"

No response. Just another fit of coughing.

You were currently sitting in a large hotel suite in New York City, for you were on tour with one of the most well known bands in Britten and America, The Beatles. You were deemed the official photographer of the band, taking photos of them meeting important figures, running from large groups of fan, and simply their everyday life. Traveling from the U.K. to the U.S. was a long and tiring trip, but was well worth it.

Unfortunately, on the way from Liverpool to New York, one of the members of the British band had come down with a horrible case of the cold while flying. And yet, there was no one around to take care of him; the boys were off with Brian down in the rehearsal studio, while Martin was dragged along with them.

Fortunately for you, you were tasked with the job of looking over the sick Beatle, George Harrison.

Raising from your seat, you made your way to the bedroom and quickly peeked your head inside.

"George?" You asked once more as your eyes scanning the cluttered room full of towels, amps, and used smoking trays.

Finally, your eyes landed on the man laying in bed with a phone against his ear and a pillow perched against his back. When noticing you were at the door, he looked up from a small booklet and smiled sweetly at your presents. However, instead of greeting you properly, he heavily coughed into his free, right arm and leaned into the phone, trying to order what appeared to be room service.

Seeing the sight of a sick George was anything but pleasing.

"What are you doing, George?"

"Tryin' to order up some more blankets," He sniffed. "It's a bit cold in here."

You shrugged sympathetically and walked over to him, slowly removing the phone from his hand and placing it back on its stand, "You don't need to call for service. If you need anything, I'm here for you. In fact," You turned towards the door. "I believe there's some blankets in the main room that Brian dropped off."

Looking back at him, George replied softly, "I'm sorry. Just didn't want to bother ya. May I please have some?"

"Of course you can," You smiled as you went to fetch the blankets.

While waiting for you to return, George tilted his head on the back board of the bed and sighed heavily, looking up at the ceiling. Apparently, George didn't find being sick as entertaining as he thought he would.