George Harrison Imagines

If You Invite Them In

The sun was just beginning to set as I made my way down the empty streets toward the Cavern.

I spend quite a bit of time here, I live alone, no family, a few friends that might contact me once a month, but don't count on it.

I like my solitude, so it doesn't really matter much to me.

Every night a local band plays. They're called The Beatles. The lads are quite talented.

I walk into the cave-like club, greeted by the usual ambient noise and hot air.

I feel a pair of eyes on me, it's him.

The devilishly handsome guitarist of the Beatles. George.

Though he's beautiful, he's got an air of intimidation about him. Something dark in those mysterious eyes.

Yet I can't help but only stare at him when they play. The way his long fingers dance along the frets of his guitar mesmerize me unlike anything I've ever gazed upon before.

Every time I catch him staring at me I feel a mixture of fascination and....terror? No, that's dramatic. Apprehension is a better word.

Yet, when we lock gazes he never looks away. He just stares straight through me.

*****************

Night after night I go to the Cavern. Night after night he inches closer and closer.

The night happens mid April. About two months after this became a nightly routine.

************

My heart nearly stops when a slightly clammy hand lands on my heated shoulder.

I jump and turn in my seat to see him.
He's even more gorgeous up close....

"Hey love, this seat taken?"

I glance at the empty seat beside me, "oh, n-no, you're welcome to sit."

"Don't mind if I do."

He sits quietly for a few minutes, but I can feel him glancing at me every now and then.

I finish my drink and go to stand but he places his hand on my shoulder again.

How are his hands so chilly in this stuffy room? Perhaps he has poor circulation...

"Won't you have another?"

His sudden words surprise me, he didn't seem at all interested in me before, and now he wants me to stay?

"Sorry if I've been acting strangely, but I must confess. I've noticed you, every night, all alone."

I look away, feeling a blush creep up my neck, embarrassment hot in my blood.

A cool finger suddenly tilts my head back, his deep brown eyes intently trained on mine.

"What's your name, love?" He purrs.

"I-uh-_______, I'm ______. And you're George."