imagines; beatles

✰ fairytale : george

Your fingertips gently brushed the canvas spines of the old books that stood lopsided and torn in the back of the library on the tall, dusty, century-old bookshelf. You hummed along to an unknown tune, your rose lips buzzing. Your gaze was kept still on the spines, each one colorful and passing by quickly, your nails collecting years of caked on dust.

At once you stopped, biting your bottom lip as you slipped the crimson red book off the dark-stained shelf, examining its every crease.

"A Teenage Fairytale," you read quietly to yourself, smoothing out the cover.

"Reading it again, I see?" The librarian spoke, peering through her half-moon spectacles over the decayed old desk where she sat, stamping red due dates on the inside covers of books. A smirk tugged at your lips.

"If it's good, why not?" You shrugged and happily placed the book on top of your other three, which you balanced precariously in the fold of your right arm. You continued on, watching the books pass, all of your senses drowning out whatever else was around you.

However, all at once you bumped into someone, feeling your books slip from your arm as you fell to the carpet floor.

"I'm so sorry!" A young gentleman quipped, promptly standing up and extending a hand to you. You sat on the floor like a fallen gazelle, peering up at the boy and right into his strikingly deep brown eyes. You blew a piece of brown hair off to the side of your face and took his hand, allowing him to help you up as you smoothed out your light blue dress, re-tying your white apron.

Once you were on your feet, he hastily bent down to pick up your books, stretching out his arms to hand them back to you.

"Oh-why thank you." You smiled kindly to him, although he looked a bit startled by your actions. "Are you new here?" You followed curiously, tilting your head slightly and looking him up and down.

His hair was lofty, curly, a shade of warm chestnut brown, and flopped carelessly onto his forehead. He wore shiny black school boy shoes, dark grey trousers that looked too big to be his own, a blousy white collared shirt, and a murky, light brown sweater over it, which looked like a last minute choice.

"I haven't been over to this side of the village really," He stuttered. "I just enjoy reading, so I thought-"

"It's alright, I don't need your story too." You laughed lightly and suggested to the pile of books you held tightly to your chest. He looked a bit embarrassed and fluttered his gaze down to his feet. "Come, I'll show you some of my favorites." You waved a hand for him to follow you, which he did.

"I like all kinds of books, but fairytales...may be my favorite." He blushed a tad as he gave you that piece of information.

"I won't tell," You assured, looking back at him as you walked down the isles of books. "Besides, I like a boy who's into the mushy stuff." You flashed a quick smile at him, which he reciprocated immediately, showing his wide, adorable grin.

You suddenly stopped and looked straight into the section of novels with colorful, faded, and worn out spines—however you saw them as loved, not old—you pulled a few off the shelf, pausing before sliding each one into your delicate hand and passing it behind you to the boy, who put them all on a round table.

"I'm George Harrison by the way." He spoke up as you bit your lip, examining a book.

"I'm Belle." You turned around to give him a modest smile. You looked to your right and noticed the pale, wooden ladder which led up to the top most shelf where your gold mine of stories laid untouched by the greedy hands who walked in here. You quickly jumped up onto a step, your black flats making it moan slightly with the sudden weight.

"W-What are you doing?" A curious George asked. Balancing on one foot to reach over and grab the pale yellow novel, you shot a cheeky grin at him.

"Getting you my favorite." You bit your bottom lip and focused, making sure the book wouldn't drop onto the floor as you seized the book.

As you made your way down the ladder you brushed off the cover, sending a couple of dust bunnies flying up into your nostrils.

"Beauty..and the Beast?" George read the cover to you cautiously.

"Yep! A tale as old as time." You exhaled dreamily, gazing down at the book, your eyes glowing. "Take care of it. It's first edition." You warned, your eyebrows knitting together.

"Uh-will do." He swallowed and looked into your eyes,the two of you resting in the stillness of the warm atomosphere.

You were the first to break eye contact, waving him to follow you as you strolled back into the small, right hand nook of the wide library—where old, white clothed pillows sat up on the broad wooden windowsill, basking underneath a colonial style window with chipped paint around the frame and a spiderweb forming in the top corner. The blazing sun streamed through the old glass, casting out a warm, honey colored haze across everything in its path.

"I know, I'm a nerd." You sighed, watching his eyes marvel at your secret spot.

"I think yer wonderful." He complimented, shyly looking away from you.

"Don't be nervous around me, Georgie. I think we can be great friends." You grinned and pulled yourself up onto the windowsill, patting on the absent space next to you. "Come here, let's read."

"Like children?" He asked, hesitantly walking over to you and sitting, the book clutched in his clammy hands.

"After all, we are still kids." You mentioned, watching as George opened the cover and flipped to the first page next to you. The aroma in the air was musky and wooden, with the feverish sunlight beaming in from behind and thinly coating your soft skin.

"There once was a very rich merchant, who had six children, three sons, and three daughters.." George began to read out loud to you. You smirked, looking down at the beige tinted pages—even if you have seen them over a hundred times before.

You sighed and felt your eyelids droop heavily with exhaustion, so you gently set your head on George's shoulder, the fabric of his sweater brushing against your cheek cozily. You closed your eyes and nuzzled your face into his warm neck, wrapping your arms loosely around his torso, bringing you two closer.

You felt him stiffen slightly with your sudden adjustment, pausing from reading. However once you had completely settled into a comfortable position, he laid his head on top of yours and started reading again.

"What will you have, Beauty? said her father."

"A rose." You mumbled incoherently, your eyes still closed and your lips sticking together as you spoke. George paused and you could sense he had a wide grin pulling at his lips.

"Since you have the goodness to think of me..." he continued on. "Be so kind to bring me a rose, for as none grow hereabouts,they are a kind of rarity.."

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inspired by beauty and the beast, clearly you played belle, my favorite;)
not super fluffy or detailed but hopefully still enjoyable???
I'm glowing with pride rn.