Those Blue Eyes of His
"John?" Ringo murmured, looking up from his book with sleepy blue eyes. John felt his pulse quicken, and he cursed himself silently.
"Yeah Rings?" he answered casually, trying to hide the nervousness in his voice from the adorable drummer.
"How are yeh and Cyn?" he asked, shoving his tattered book mark back into the book and setting it on the small table beside his bed. John and Ringo had to share a hotel room, the one with only one king sized bed.
"We're ok. I dunno about it anymore, but we're ok." he answered truthfully, as he scratched his stubbly chin. He would have to shave tommorow before work, because 'the fans' wouldn't like it if he grew a beard or cut his hair.
"That's....good? I think?" Ringo said, and John laughed at the expression on his face. God he was just so cute. He felt butterflies erupt in his belly, and he quickly stopped laughing. He wasn't queer for Ringo dammit. He wasn't.
"It's not at all Rings. I'm stuck with a bird I don't wanna be tied to." he sai
George lay sprawled on his bed, fighting to keep the tears down. Images of his best mate kept popping up in his mind. He squinched his eyes shut, and bit down on his wobbling lip. God, this just didn't feel real. He couldn't be gone. George let out a quiet sob, and buried his face into his pillow.
He felt like a part of himself was missing now. Like a piece of his heart had broken off, and burned up when that dreadfull moment happend.
"John," he whimpered out, trying in vain to swallow the lump that had gathered in his throat. No, no, no, no, no, no! Maybe this was John trying to prank him? Maybe he was alive, hiding in the corner and snickering at George's tears. Please, God, let this be some sort of sick joke. George couldn't take the pain. His mind was filled with the fuzzy memories of the phone call that had sent him spiraling down into depression.
The bastard had hung himself, leaving a note saying he loved George, Paul, and Ringo dearly, but he just couldn't live keeping the secr
"Paul! Marry me!" thousands of girls shrieked, and the young Beatle chuckled to himself. He was going to marry someone, but it definatly wouldn't be any of those nutter girls outside. He reached into his pocket, and felt the small, velvet covered box. She'd say yes. He knew it.
"Sadie?" he called out, looking around the seemingly empty hotel room. She poked her head out of the bathroom, and smiled brightly at him. Butterflies swirled around his stomach, but he walked to her, and kissed her lightly on the lips.
"How was work?" she asked, applying mascara to her eyelashes. He sat on the corner of the bathtub and shrugged.
"It was alright I s'pose." he murmured, watching her every move with awe. She was gorgeous, and graceful, why on earth would she marry a scouse like him? She turned to look at him, and her straight blonde hair fell off her shoulder and hung down to her lower back. He swallowed.
"Is something wrong Paulie?" she asked worridely, stepping forward and placing her hand on hi