-Beatles- ||IMAGINE||

#13 ||GEORGE||

#13 ||George||

He told me that he will believe me. He told me that he will never turn on me. He told me that our love could never die. So why is he leaving?

"George?"

Tears were escaping your eyes as you watched him scavenge for his clothes in your closet. You felt useless as you stood there not able to do anything to stop him. He was almost done clearing out his clothing from his drawer and ready to leave. This caused you panic. Your hands were fumbling as your heart rate quickened.

"George please!" You yell pleadingly, wanting him to stop, wanting him to look at you.

George finished grabbing all of his clothes and stuffing it in his bag. He heard you screaming at him and it took all of his strength to not turn around and wrap you in his arms. It caused him literal pain. He needed to pack up. He needed to leave to keep you safe. He couldn't look you in the eye, or talk to you other than telling you he was leaving. Looking at you any longer would've made him stay with you, it would've killed you.

"George! Wh-where are you going!"

He bit his lip, swallowing numbly. He kept on packing though, determined with erasing any trace of him in your tiny house. The sound of your panicked sobs filled the air, and George couldn't do anything to stop them.

Your sadness suddenly turning into anger as you realized that he wasn't going to stop. "George!" You yell, gripping on to his wrist, catching him off guard. George looked at your eyes and felt his world break into a million pieces. His sad eyes seeping through the cold barrier he had put on, just for a split second. The look suggested a pleading call of sorrow. He had to go.

You'll be safe, darling. Forgive me.

"P-please...say something." You whispered, searching his eyes for any sign of care towards you.

The room was silent and had very dim lighting. The day was ending in a dreary dusk. It was only fitting for the crisp breeze to fill your room from the draft. George was wearing his normal attire. The only thing different about him was the bags under his eyes. There was absolutely no reason to why he was leaving. Did he really think of you that little? Was he in love with someone else? Why wasn't he saying anything. Not a word.

But George still didn't say anything. What you thought was a look of remorse suddenly turned cold once again. He turned his head and violently yanked his arm away from your weak grip.

Please, forgive me.

George could feel the tears at his eyes but he couldn't let himself cry. He needed to leave. Your mouth was left open. Knees trembling and heart racing, you couldn't believe what was happening. After all this time? Everything you've been through. He was just going to walk out. It was like a haze, it was like you were stuck in a nightmare.

George kept his back to you, trying to block out every word, every sound, every weep you were emitting with no success. It was echoing in his mind, fuelling his guilt, burning him like flames to wood.

God, I'm sorry, I'm sorry babe. I love you.

Some part of your mind was still in a hopeless denial. After nearly a month on an unspoken 'vacation' he finally returned. It was all after the incident. Was it that fight George had had with your father? No, it couldn't be the reason why he left for so long. Without a word from him, you were left alone. Not knowing where he was, or what he was doing, or why he left. Now he was leaving you again? When you came back to the front of your house, you saw George had appeared. You wouldn't have believed it. The unexplainable happiness came over you as you ran to him and hugged him. But it was even then when George seemed to have already made up his mind on leaving. George held back his arms and didn't hug you back. Confused, you pulled out, looking up at him, your smile turning into a frown.