15

454 20 8
                                    

Back to Ringo's POV
"Come on George! I'm ready," I yelled at Geo as I waited for him to come out of his room.

Seconds later he walked out in tight pants, a button up, skinny tie, and a leather jacket.

"How do I look?"

"Fantastic!" I answered instantaneously. He really did. He was a total daddy (😂).

"Let's go then," he opened the door and we were off.
.................................................................

We cautiously entered the dance hall to find a mix of people. Mainly the hipsters we saw at the library and older couples looking to make memories.

"That's a tuff outfit," a hipster shouted when he passed me.

"Thanks," I quietly answered to find that they had already left.

"All of my love, all of my kissing!" We heard Buddy Holly over the sound system.

"I love this," I laughed as I pulled George onto the dance floor. We bobbed, we hopped, and we watched some show off moonwalk. Guess he didn't understand that Michael Jackson wasn't even really singing or dancing in front of people till 1968 or so.

The mood suddenly changed as Put Your Head On My Shoulder by Paul Anka began to fill the room. George grabbed my waist and I grabbed his shoulders. We got a couple stares, but we didn't care. We were in our own universe.

He swept me side to side as we made our way around the dance floor. The song finally ended and George rushed me into the bathroom. It was one if those ones where only one person can go in and the door locks.

He lifted me up in the classic raunchy make out style and put my back to the wall. We locked lips and I let him explore my mouth.

"I love you so much," he put me down and breathed heavily.

"I love you too," I remembered the Maharishi and decided to save that for later. "I've got something important to tell you when we get home," I gasped at my own words.

"Home?" He smiled, showing his fangs, "I loved that. That is our home now."

To Those Who Don't BelongWhere stories live. Discover now