Brielle Anderson. A shy, African-American, 22 year old.
George Harrison. A famous guitarist known for his work in The Beatles.
He likes her and she likes him. Nothing strange. But will their relationship be able to last through the troubles that co...
"Hey, Ritch!" I said, opening my arms and hugging Ringo tightly. "Hey! How are ye feeling? I heard you were in the hospital recently." I invited him in and we sat down in the main room on the couch.
"I'm feeling a lot better. George has been taking good care of me." Ringo looked down and rubbed his hands together. "Oh right. You still haven't talked to him." I smiled and stood up, grabbing his hands and pulling him up. "Well, he's in the garden right now. I think you should talk to him. You know, he misses you." Ringo's eyes lit up a bit and he gave a small smile. "Really?" "Yeah! Come talk to him."
Right when I said that, George came in from the garden with Zuri in his arms and Cleo. "Who was it?" He said, putting Zuri down in her high chair for lunch, then turning to me and saw Ringo. "Oh.. Hey Ringo." He smiled softly, but looked a bit nervous.
"H-Hey, George." He rubbed his neck softly. "I know I haven't really apologized for what happened, but I want ye to know that I'm very sorry. I betrayed yer trust and I understand if ye never want to speak to me again." Ringo seemed a bit unsure about what to do, so I decided to step in. I ran into the main room and looked through a shelf for photo albums. I found one and looked through it, taking out pictures of Ringo and George together.
"You two have always been close and supportive of each other. What happened, happened. Nothing can change that. But do you two want to move on? You two are great friends to each other. See?" I handed them the pictures I got from the photo album.
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"Ye still 'ave this picture?" Ringo asked George, and he nodded. "That's when I visited ye in the hospital when ye were sick." He smiled, and Ringo smiled as well.
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