I Learnt To Love In Liverpool | George Harrison ✅

♥ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐲 ♥

I breathed out contently and opened my eyes, smiling for several seconds as the familiar Liverpool morning settled over me. I had not had a morning like this for what felt like too long - with the smog outside, the early morning sun shining through it, and the slight breeze straight off the Mersey... and someone's arm around me.

My eyes widened and I held my breath.

It was usually George who woke beside me - it had always been him, before... but the events of last night at Strawberry Field ran through my mind at a mile a minute.

John.

My eyes watered and tears slipped down my cheeks. I brought my hand up to my face, covering my mouth in disgust, a queasy feeling growing in my stomach. I bit down on my fist, trying to ignore the crushing feeling which threatened to pile itself onto me.

Between my thighs was still sticky, and my legs had that familiar ache that I had only felt once before - the morning after George and I had had sex.

And then I remembered getting back to John's Aunt Mimi's house. I remembered how he had put his arms around me, his lips on my neck and how he had sucked oh so perfectly. I remembered how I had been putty in his hands, and I remembered how he had moulded me. I remembered how perfectly our bodies had fitted together, and how intensely I had orgasmed.

My relationship with George was over. Well and truly over. I had properly cheated on him, I realised with a start, and with one of his best friends. My gaze flickered over to John, who seemed to still be asleep. I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself as I silently thanked whatever God there was that he had not woken up yet.

I didn't know what to do. I didn't know whether to sob my heart out to John, or in private, or -

Paul.

My brother would know what to do. I picked John's arm up in one of my hands and removed it from me as gently as I could, ensuring that I would not wake him up. I then got out of bed as quickly and quietly as I could and tiptoed downstairs, not surprised to find that Aunt Mimi was already up and cooking.

"Morning, dear." She said to me brightly as she spotted me coming down the stairs, "sleep well?"

"I, um -"

"Late night, I assume? Your dad was out?"

I knew that she would not encourage nor possibly even acknowledge John's cheating on Cynthia, and I knew that she would try to brush it under the carpet.

I nodded, "um, yes, Aunt Mimi." She had once told me to call her that... It had been the morning after my stepfather had died. That seemed so long ago - so much had happened in those two years. The boys had met Ringo and almost made it big... they were on the cusp of stardom, I could just feel it -

"Breakfast will be -"

"Actually," I said to her, "I need to go. Dad'll be expecting me home, and Paul and Mike are there, so -"

"Oh," she furrowed her eyebrows, "but we haven't had a chance to talk: how is London?"

I just smiled sadly at her, "London is wonderful, Aunt, but I really must be going..." before John wakes up and notices that I'm gone. "I promise to come and see you soon. I'll come for a few days, and then we can talk properly."

"Oh, well..." she bit one of her lipstick covered lips before she said, "very well, then. Be on your way or you'll miss the next bus." She waved me out of the door, and I couldn't help but feel that she was annoyed with me.

But I had bigger problems to deal with.

* * * * *

When I made it to the corner of Forthlin Road, I was surprised to see Paul walking toward me, but from the other end.

"Em?" He said in surprise as he noticed me.

"Paul!" I ran towards him, wiping my tears before I threw myself into his arms and he held me tightly, making me feel safe... just like he always had.

"Wha's wrong, Em?" He asked me, gently disentangling me from himself and then leading me to number 20. He took me past dad and Mike, who looked at the tears streaking my face with questioning looks on their faces. He took me up the stairs and into the room that we had shared as teenagers. We sat on the end of what had been his bed, and he tucked his arm around me, pulling me to his chest and making me feel once more like we were two teenagers who had no problems. "Tell me everything."

And so I told him.

I told him about the kiss that John and I had shared several weeks before, and then I told him that that was why I had come to Liverpool; to escape John and the memory of his lips against my own. At that point, Paul had apologised for bringing him with him, but I had told him that it was fine.

And then I told Paul about the previous evening with John. Everything.

And Paul just held me and soothed me as my entire body wracked with sobs.

And only once I had pulled myself together enough to withstand it, had he said, "I think you need to tell George."

I knew that he was right, but it was hard to say. I knew that I had to end my relationship with George, and by telling him, I was ultimately doing it. So I just nodded.

Paul left the room to make the phone call.