george harrison imagines

you're mine

AUTHORS NOTE~ hey y'all it's julia and this story takes place in the early 60s so that means like segregation and whatnot but i just wanted to tell you all, this story is completely fictious so don't cancel me or george or even his parents. it's fake but there will be strong topics in this story and if it makes you uncomfortable please don't read. there will be racism and some slurs too so just read with caution. anyways i hope you all enjoy~ julia harrison ✨💓

**
it was may 14, 1960 when i sat at home looking at my mixed family. my parents had to go through a lot of hell to become the parents of me. it was worth it, but i could tell neither my black father or white mother cared. they loved each other deeply enough to get called all sorts of things but it didn't matter.

i fiddled my thumbs when my mother approached me, "take some money and go buy something from the corner store or something julia." she grinned while i blushed a bit,

"thanks ma." i beamed when my dad came up to me too,

"just watch yourself ok?" he whispered

"always pa." i grinned.

***
"would you stop playing that awful guitar and get out or something?" georges dad, harold barked as the younger british boy sighed, placing his vice down.

"i would love to get out dad but there's nothing to do." he whined while louise handed him some money,

"go to a store or something, go find a carnival. go be a kid!" she encouraged him while harold tsked,

"just watch out for the negroes."

"come on dad, they're people too." george replied as harold and louise exchanged a look,

"sure they are."

"whatever- fine ill go find something to do. and if i come across a negro or whatever you call african americans, ill be sure to treat them how i would treat a cracker, with respect." george smiled as harold and louise gasped,

"what did you just say?"

"i said i would treat an african american person with respect! why should crackers demand all the respect and not give any back? kinda a double standard if you ask me." he rambled on as harold slapped him across the face.

george held his jaw as he snatched the money from his mom's hand, "you both are the epitome of rednecks." and with that he fled his house.

**
i walked along the sidewalk, with my head low as the whites and the blacks made sounds at me. see, if slavery were still around and all that bullshit, i would be considered a house nigger. someone who would work around the house. it was still an awful term, as that word is, but that's history and that's what i would be identified as.

i reached don's convenience store as i walked inside, hugging myself to avoid any and all unnecessary discomfort. don, a lifelong white friend of my parents, smiled at me as he made sure to keep an extra eye out for me. he was one of the rare few who supported my parents financially until they moved on somewhere discreet after getting married and pregnant with me.

"hello miss. julia." he waved as i waved back,

"hello uncle don." i grinned.

"what can i get you today?" he asked while i walked up to the counter, shrugging, "ma and pa just wanted me outta the house i suppose. they may be trying for another baby and don't want me to hear." i giggled when i heard the door opening. i shifted my gaze to see a young man walking in with dark jeans and a white button down shirt on. he had his sleeves buttoned and his little prominent muscles poked out as his dark hair and eyes stared at me for a bit. he was caucasian, but that didn't seem to bother me. matter of fact, it entranced me.