The Beatles Imagines

george

  dorothy
'65
⊰⊹⊱

He'd been waiting on her to make a move all night, not that she was intrested.

Her dress flew with every spun she made while her friends just sat in the booth laughing at her carelessness.

George didn't understand how she could continue dancing, with basically the whole of London - strangers mind you - as well as peers watching, still she didn't seem fussed prancing around crazily with her hair free, and shimmering with the lights in the pub.

The bar man chuckled at the women as he poured George another beer, "you should speak to her mate, she's great! Just what you need" the man winked putting the glass down.

The white throuf trickled over onto George's hand when he lifted it, but he didn't react instead his eyes darted around the room trying to spot the mysterious beaut in action.

He grinned when he spotted her by the duke box putting in yet another coin. She must have spent her life savings by now, dancing for atleast ten songs straight - two of those at least four minutes long. And the best part was that she wasn't even drunk, the opposite actually drinking only a can of sprite, inbetween her boogy-ing of course.

George could only imagine the girl during the day, did she dance the streets like she had done the pub? or was she shy and timid then, just trying to impress one of the many men longingly gazing at her right now? He couldn't tell, but he did want to know.

Soon enough the song picked up the up-beat tune of his own song made him blush as he turned back to face the bar, one leg over the other.

'You know my temperature's risin'
And the jukebox's blows a fuse'

"Would you like a dance sir?" a voice asked before a tap was placed on his shoulder, George shook his head as he wiped his mouth of alcohol, "I don't dance" he stated and she shrugged. "You say otherwise in the song" she cheered before dancing away from the man.

Their eyes still connected though, and George thought she would never look away...not until he gave in and danced atleast.

But what would the boys say when they got back from dropping in at their homes, plus he was already tired enough from the long day at the studio and his bones felt like they wouldn't move again, not until he'd slept atleast.

'I got a rockin pneumonia, I need a shot of rythm and blues'

"wooooo!" the women sang.

"You know you want to Mr Harrison" she yelled over the song, he shook his head running a hand through his hair.

Usually he would've caused a scene demanding his song be turned off immediately, he hated hearing his own voice. Earlier she'd played one of John's and he'd let her off, even telling the boy's not to complain. That was before they'd headed home George had said then, that he'd finish his drink, which was really cover up for what he was actually doing. But what was he supposed to say? 'I'm just going to stay behind and stare at this girl' of course not.

Her heels had been ditched long ago, she'd plopped them at her table with her gossiping friends, leaving her bare feet to jump around the grotty bar room carpet and causing her moves to be silent, apart from the blaring tunes through the speakers that is.

'I'm giving you a warning, don't you step on my blue seude shoes...'

It was then he had given in, taking her hand in his and spinning her around the room. The bar cheered them on as the girl's giggles floated around his large grin.

George's tie was loosened soon enough and his suit jacket chucked on the closest bar stool by the girl, she was no better, the straps of her dress falling down her arms as she swung them around with George. He spun the two around the room, not caring if she stood on his feet.

It was messy and probably, most definitely, horrible to the eye but for the first time in years George was free, he wasn't stressing about songs, or worrying about paparazzi or the teasing from his band mates.

It was just him and this mysterious girl, who he was convinced was his soulmate.

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its short but enjoy :)