I Want to Tell You (A Beatles Fanfic)

Chapter 28-Don't Bother Me 🕒Sunday, November 17th, 1963🕞

Throwing my remaining belongings into a bag, I made my way down the stairs and into the living room where Ringo sat patiently waiting -without George.

"All set?" he asked sweetly. I nodded and ventured towards him, gripping the handles of my luggage till my knuckles turned white. I was so nervous; I just didn't know what to do.

When I had waken to discover that I was still in 1963, I didn't know what else I could do. Jane was leaving, my options were limited, and Victor could deal.

I heaved a sigh and smiled at Jane as she gave me a little hug.

"Goodbye, dear. Don't get into too much mischief." she said, winking at me. I rolled my eyes and looked up at Ringo. He smiled at me but I could sense a small trace of worry behind his bright blue eyes.

We walked outside and down the drive as Ringo unlocked his car. He tossed my luggage into the back and helped me in, shutting the door and coming around to the other side. He started the engine and backed out, as I rolled down my window to wave to the Ashers.

"So how's it feel to be staying with the fellas for the week?" Ringo asked, sounding chipper. I think he was trying to cheer me up because we both knew I wasn't going to like what I was going home to. I shrugged and laughed a little anxiously.

"I suppose it'll be fab."

"Yeah..." Ringo said, his voice trailing off a bit as he focused his attention on the road. After a moment of silence, he said, "Wendy, about George..."

My stomach began to form knots as I stared out the window in dread. Ringo looked at me uncomfortably.

"He's...er...very upset about what went down last night and, uh, might need some time to cool down a bit."

I bit my lip and turned to face him slowly.

"Does he know I'm coming?"

Ringo paused for a moment and nodded, contemplating what he was going to say next.

"Yes, he knows...can't say he's very happy about it."

My heart sank. Can't say I blame him, I thought miserably. Ringo tossed his hand.

"But, don't worry about it, pet! I'll be yer mate! Don't give that daft sod another thought. From now on, yer got good ole Rings to take care of yer!"

He grinned at me, his blue eyes twinkling softly in the morning light. I blinked a bit, almost taken aback by them. I was surprised to find myself blushing for no apparent reason and returned my gaze to the window. Ringo was quite lovely, I had to admit. But I had no kind of romantic interest in him whatsoever.

He chuckled and drove on in silence as I dug my fingernails into the glove box in dread. With every passing moment, we were getting closer and closer to the flat and I was finding it more and more difficult to breathe.

Leaning my head out the window, I tried to get some air circulation so I wasn't so light headed. Ringo frowned.

"Wendy, are yer alrigh, pet?" he asked, patting my arm. Then, he reached over and placed his hand on my knee. I flinched at his touch, feeling slightly violated and extremely touchy at the moment by the littlest of things. I shook my head, suddenly feeling like I was going to be sick.

"Stop the car!" I said weakly as he pulled off to the side of the road. Throwing open the door, I got out and crouched down, beginning to hurl. Ringo came around and gently held my hair back for me as I vomited all over the sidewalk.

When I was done, tears of humiliation filled my eyes and I refused to look at him.

"Wendy love, it's going to be alrigh." he said, hugging me tenderly and helping me to my feet. "We just need to get yer back to my place and everything will be ok."