**~Charlene's P.O.V~**
George came back not long after I had tried to sort things out with a very uninterested Paul McCartney, he, unlike his friend and fellow band mate who shall remain unnamed, *cough cough... Paul... cough cough* seemed to be very interested.
"Not now, Georgie," I told the Beatle, sternly, shaking my head and taking a step back from him, Paul's harsh words from earlier about me warming George's bed for him coming to mind. "Mother Nature has decided to pay me a surprise visit about an hour ago," I elaborated for him, hoping to appease the crestfallen look that had settled upon his face once I had denied to have sex with him.
I really did have my period, though!
George wrinkled his nose in disgust, obviously unsure of how to respond, clearly made uncomfortable by what I had just said.
Boys had always been (and would probably always be) the same.
"How am I expected to respond to that one, love?" He hoarsely chuckled, scratching his head looking baffled. "Maybe men in the future know how -"
"Not at all, George," I giggled. "They pretty much have the same reaction as you, abar the occasional guy." Which was in fact true. "Men never seem to change, do they, George?"
"I don't know, love, you're the time traveller, not me," he laughed, shaking his head at me. After that the subject was charged.
That night as George and I lay side by side in bed, I wondered if Paul had given my words any thought when George's voice sounded in the dark room.
"What's going on between you and Paul, love?"
I froze for a moment, swallowing down my unease as I murmured a replay. "Nothing, we just had a silly little disagreement, but you know how stubborn we both are. Neither of us wanted to be the first to speak to each other and as a result we let things go too far and for too long..."
"Charlene," he groaned. "What aren't you telling me?"
"What do you mean?" I asked, vaguely confused, I had more or less told him the truth without going into detail, he couldn't accuse me of lying.
"I mean," he elaborated, slowly, "what did you and Paul disagree about?"
"Something stupid," I whispered, an embarrassed blush creeping across my cheeks. "Something that we're better off forgetting and you're better off not knowing."
We fell into silence for a moment, which he broke yet again. "Now I just want to know even more," he sighed in exasperation. "If you tell me we can all just forget about it and get on with our lives."
"Nice try, George," I laughed flatly, rolling my eyes at him, even though I knew that he couldn't see me in the dark room.
"Char!" He childishly whined and I just knew that he was pouting. "It can't be *that* bad."
*Oh, you have no idea, babe, trust me on that one.*
"Drop it!" I snapped. "You don't have to know everything!"
"Right," he replied, bluntly, making guilt surge through me.
"I'm sorry, Georgie," I apologised, worrying my lower lip between my teeth. "I didn't mean to snap at you. The last thing I would ever want to do is start a fight with you, I'm just feeling very stressed right now and am overly emotional,* my voice broke as I started to sob, making me silently curse my period for always making me a hormonal mess. "I love you, George, I just love you so much, and I'm actually planning on leaving you again! How fucked up is that?"
"Shush, love, shh," George soothed me, I could hear the poorly concealed fret in his sexy voice as he scooted closer to me in the bed, enveloping me lovingly in his long, thin, wiry muscled arms. "I know, love, I know, it's fine," he reassured me, rocking me gently from side to side in his strong arms, he planted a kiss on the top of my head as he stroked my long, thick, black curls. "I love you, too, Charlene, but don't cry, please, just don't cry," he pleaded, panic clear in his voice, it was almost funny, but it was so sweet and I just couldn't believe that I was leaving him.
How could I possibly leave him? I would tear his heart right out of his chest and crush it to bits, just like I would to my own, for the second time. I knew, at least, that George's heart would one day heal and that he would love again, but I knew for a fact that I never would and that thought made me sob even harder than I already had been.
"I'm sorry, George, I'm so sorry," I apologise for every quarrel he and I had ever had (even though they had always been small and quick to solve), each one usually started by myself, for every time I had hurt him and caused him more pain than anyone should ever have to best, for whatever secrets I had ever kept from him, the biggest and worst and what felt like the most impossible to tell one, now weighing heavily upon my shoulders. For everything, I was apologising for everything that I had ever did wrong when it came to him.
He chuckled, awkwardly. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Char. You haven't done anything wrong."
If that was true, then why did I feel so wrong? Ever since Paul had kissed me I'd been eaten alive by both guilt and confussion.
How would I explain to my boyfriend that one of his best friend's had kissed his girlfriend and that he wasn't to be mad at said best friend because he'd been drinking and probably high, too, convinced that he liked me, neither was he to be mad at me for keeping it from him because my intentions had been good. Somehow I didn't think he would see it my way...
I didn't say anything as I sniffled grossly, but then I spoke up. "I've tried to speak to Paul already - this morning when you were at the shop -," I confided. "He didn't seem to want to make up.
*No, he'd much rather make out!*
"What makes you think that?" He wondered.
"Because he told me so," I howled.
"Paul didn't mean it," George's voice rang with certainty as he continued to gently stroke my hair. "Like you already said, Macca is just as stubborn as you are. He's secretly thrilled that you were the first to speak, and wants you to think that you've lost him before he comes running back, apparently changing his mind and forgiving you for whatever it is that you may or may not have done. Trust me, he's done it all before. Dick move, I know, but Paulie has always been a little bitch at times. That's just how he is, love."
"I'm not so sure, Georgie," I sniffled, wiping my tears, embarrassed by my weakness.
"Do you trust me, Char?" George asked me as innocently as someone like he could.
I nodded my head in response, but instantly felt my face heat up as an embarrassed blush crept over it as I realised it was too dark for George to see me.
"Yes, I told him, honestly, "of course I do. Why would you even ask that?"
"Good," I could hear the smug smirk in his voice. "Then you'll believe me when I say that Paul will have changed his mind by the morning."
I thought about that for a few short moments, George's words reassuring me a little bit. "What if he doesn't?"
"He will, baby, trust me," he yawned, loudl."if he doesn't I'll talk to him for you."
I didn't reply as my mind was on the brink of unconsciousness and had to battle to stay awake, a battle that I was rapidly losing.
"Goodnight, love," George chuckled, quietly, pecking my forehead as he lay me gently back down on the pillows. "I love you "
After that I drifted off to dream land.
================================================================
Authors Note: Hey, I hope you're all having a good holiday. ☺
Exactly one year ago I almost slipped into a diabetic coma, like I was unconscious, but I'm okay now. ☺
Thanks for reading, I hope you all enjoyed.
