temporary fix || george harrison

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"Ever thine, Ever Mine, Ever Ours." He whispered into the shell of my ear as we stood on our windy balcony, overlooking the lit city of Paris.

"Now where did you catch wind of tha', my sweet?" I giggled as his arms squeezed me from behind, his monkey fingers crawling up the expanse of my body until they reached a comfortable nook above my bosom.

"A man never kisses and tells." I scoffed, turning my head around sharply to give him the most bright eyes that were gleaming with the afterbirth of love that anyone had ever seen.

I could feel it in my chest, the possibility that this is how it was always meant to be for us. Just him and I, bound together as one, forever just in happy love. Happy happy love.

"Oh you ruffle me just for the sake of it don't you, Beethoven?" I teased, nipping at the edge of his jaw with pliant lips.

My guitarist laughed with a throaty rumble, a deep sound that never failed to remind me where home was. With him.

"My angel, my all, my own self..."

ROUSED FROM her blissful sleep by the sound of classical holiday music, Juliet groaned softly into a warm and solid surface. George. It was all just a miserable fever dream without you.

But upon opening her eyes, Juliet realized it wasn't George as she so desperately hoped it was. It was John. She wasn't disappointed so much as just... heartbroken. With a dejected sigh she inched away from John, but was met with a newsprint covered wall.

Oh, yeah. Twin bed. Not much room to scoot away with. And much to her dismay, John's hold around her mid section tightened as he grumbled contentedly. Juliet couldn't recall falling asleep last night, but she suspected I'd had something to do with drinking 5 glasses of wine and asking John to sing to her.

"Happy Christmas, love." Juliet jolted as she heard John mumble Christmas greetings to her, finally waking up and releasing her from his sleeping hold.

Juliet remembered when she was 13 or so she had a poster of the Beatles from their first movie, A Hard Day's Night, tacked up to the wall above her bed. On Christmas morning she shot up as it collapsed onto her softly, the slicky smooth texture beneath the pads of her finger tips as she wished each Beatle a Happy Christmas wherever they were.

And here Juliet Bishop was, 7 years later, wishing the one and only John Lennon a Happy Christmas, flesh and blood, within the confines of his childhood bed.

"And to you, John." Juliet smiled tightly, her hand massaging the throbbing pain in her temple. What was it about John Lennon that made her comfortable to become inebriated around him?

John remained silent for a few minutes, a rare feat by Juliet's standards, just admiring the beauty sitting up beside him with her eyes lost in a haze of thought. John wasn't sure of the last time he'd had a bird posted up in bed with him, that wasn't naked.

Hell, he doesn't recall a time he'd just plainly cuddled with a girl without some sort of monkey business going on.

"Better get up, yeah? Let Mimi know I'm not a drag just laggin about in your room!" Juliet chirped as she leaped out of bed, leaving John sore. He'd thought the tender lullaby had shook any thoughts of George outta that thick head of hers. John was even so bold as to lay a kiss to her cheek, and all Juliet did was smile sweetly and lay flush to his chest with a sleepy sort of soft to her.

Juliet shuffled into her uncomfortable heels and shrugged back on her jumper, attempting to fix any wrinkles out of her skirt that she'd worn last night. With a shy smile, she retreated out of the room and into the loo, quickly shutting the door to look into the mirror to diagnose the state of things.