Hello, goodbye

You can't do that

    "Umm... rose?" A voice woke me up. I opened my eyes to see George turned around fiddling with his thumbs and looking down.
"Oh. Good morning, what are you doing?" I asked, and I could feel that he was a bit nervous.
"Your dress- I pulled back the covers to wake you and-" he trailed off. I looked down and apparently my dress had ridden up through the night. I felt worse for George than I did for myself. Poor guy, he just came in here. I'm sure his whole face turned red.
"Oh, I'm sorry," I muttered, and stood up, pulling my dress down.
"It's not anything to apologize for. Why did you sleep in your dress?" He asked, still turned around.
"You can turn around. And I didn't have any other clothes with me," I responded, and he turned. He looked at me as if I had just said the dumbest thing ever.
"You could've asked me for clothes. Well, at least give me your dress so I can wash it before we go. I'm assuming you're going to the studio today?" He asked, and I nodded.
"You really don't need to wash-" I started, but he was already gone. He came back and set a big t-shirt and some sweat pants. The sweat pants wouldn't stay up because I was so petite, so I just tugged on the t-shirt that fit more like a dress and wore it as one. I put my dress washing.
I saw George on the couch reading a newspaper, and I went to join him. I sat right next to him, and I could see him blush and try not to look down at my exposed thighs. I found it cute that he was nervous.
He put down the paper and looked at me. "Who are you?" He asked, and I looked at him in a very confused fashion, considering we'd already met, "no, I mean what's your deal? Your story? How'd you get here?" He clarified, and I bit my nails, a bad habit I've had since childhood.
"Well.... my mom died long ago, and my dad died a few months back. I was staying with my stepmom, but we really didn't get along. So I just left and hopped the nearest train to nowhere in particular," I added the last part to make my story believable. He nodded, and looked into my eyes. It made me really feel as if he was listening and taking in everything I said, truly understanding me.
"Oh," he simply said as if he was thinking, "I'm really sorry to hear that," he said it as if his voice was strained, having a hard time choking it out. He felt remorse and sadness for me, and I found that to mean a lot. Suddenly the tea pot whistled, and it was as if he was pulled out of a trance. He broke eye contact with me and hopped off the couch and into the kitchen. I ran to the back and put on my dress, fresh out of the dryer.
We drank tea and then set out on our way.as soon as we arrived, he unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to me, "I just want you to know that they're probably going to tease us about the fact that you slept at my place last night. Just ignore it, I usually do," he said, and I nodded.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't Georgie and his bird!" John mocked as soon as we went in. I rolled my eyes, but I swear George blushed and just looked down nervously.
"That's not how it was," George said quietly, and I didn't talk.
"You could've had fun with me last night, you know?" John told me, and he stepped closer to me, taking my chin in his hands and lifting my face until our eyes met. He suddenly bent me over and kissed me passionately. I pushed against his chest and he finally stopped. I wiped my mouth in disgust, and john laughed and ran a hand through his hair. I swear that I saw George's fists clenched, but I figured it was nothing.
"John!" I yelled, and he shrugged at me.
"The heart wants what the heart wants, Rose. There's nothing I can do," he responded, and I just rolled my eyes.
"We'd better get to the recording studio or Epstein will have our heads," George said, and we began to walk that way. George explained who I was to Brian, the band's manager, and he let me sit in the sound booth with him. I listened to them record songs my mom used to listen to in the car. Every once in a while, john would wink at me, or Paul would dramatically sing to me, and I would giggle. I would catch George staring at me occasionally, and when I saw him he looked away.
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AUTHORS NOTE: I said earlier that her mom died when she was three, but I'm changing it to when she was thirteen. Also, her mom was in love with the Beatles. Okay, continue. ;)