𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 | george harrison

eight

i woke up the next morning in an unfamiliar bed. it was much darker here than the usual setting that greeted me in the morning with the sun shining through the window by the couch i was used to sleeping on. i went to roll over, in hopes of identifying where i was, but ended up falling right off the mattress.

ouch.

"what in the hell," i heard a groggy male voice... above me?

"michelle?" john quickly reached his arm out from under his blanket and placed his glasses on. "i have just... so many questions." he said, still lying in his bunk two beds above me, who was on the hardwood floor.

i sat up and looked around me, trying to decipher which bunk i had fallen out of. both bottom bunks seemed empty on each side. ringo was asleep on the middle bunk on the other side, paul above him. john on the top on the side i came from with... george asleep right in the middle.

the same bunk i had found the journal in just yesterday.

"i uh,"

"shagged george?"

i scratched my head, not really knowing the answer to that question. i looked down, realising i was only in my panties underneath the oversized shirt i was wearing that definitely didn't belong to me.

"i- i wasn't... well, not at first i wasn't."

"you just rolled out of george's bed, naked,"

"i'm not naked!"

"practically." john stated, pulling himself out of bed. he made his way down and kneeled next to me on the cold floor. "how was it?" he whispered, a huge grin forming on his face.

"i don't know."

"you don't know? what'd you mean you don't know? you're saying you had a shag without your knowledge of it?"

"look, i'm not sure. i know we kissed last night, but after that we had a couple drinks together and that's where things start to get quite fuzzy." i explained. "can we just keep this little... endeavour to ourselves?"

john got up and was now pacing back and fourth.

"i suppose. i can't really be sure though. not until someone gets me my morning coffee and maybe a doughnut." john said, kneeling close to me again. "gee, i'd sure hate for anyone to find out about this."

i laughed to myself, barely breathing. "you want me to be your slave? are your legs broken?" i stopped, releasing i was the only one laughing. "oh. you're serious."

"i don't joke about breakfast pastries." john added.

"that's blackmail."

"yeah, i suppose it is. marvellous how that works, huh?"

i got up to my feet, now being eye level with him.

"if i do this, you need to keep your mouth shut." i threatened, grabbing ahold of his t-shirt. "you can't tell anyone. and you especially, positively can not let george find out you know about any of this."

he pretended to zip his mouth closed, locked it, and tossed the "lock" under the bottom bunk.

"my lips are sealed. well? go on then!" he said, clapping his hands at me.

the two of us froze as began to hear another groan coming from the bunk i had slept in.

"michelle? babe? commere,"

john erupted into laughter at george's halfway asleep pleas for me.

"oh! michelle! baby! let me give you a wet smooch!" john began to mock him.