➸𝐏𝐒, 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 || 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

Hold Me Tight

𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬𝗼𝐧

1964

Monday June 8th, 1964 had been by far, the worst day of Y/n's life.

Hot sodden tears rolled down her dampened cheeks as she sat alone, bunched up, in the darkness of her sitting room.

It didn't start that way, however.

The morning began the same as any other, with Y/n waking up alongside her love, George.

She spent a few minutes admiring his restful elegance before she crawled out of bed, preparing herself for the day ahead - powdering her face, assembling a new outfit, all while George slept.

In advance to leaving, Y/n gave George a kiss on the cheek, into which he grinned sleepily, opening his eyes to see his girlfriend prior to her departure for work.

"Goin' so soon?" George enquired sluggishly, his umber orbs glancing up at Y/n, who smiled glumly.

"Yeah, it's that time." She replied softly, looking at the silver watch on her wrist. "I'll see you when I get home, Georgie."

"I'll be home a little late tonight, the lads and I are workin' on a few projects for our new album." George mentioned tenderly, quickly noticing the shift in Y/n's demeanor. "I promise I'll make it up to you when I get home."

"Okay," Y/n responded delicately, placing a light kiss on her partners lips. "I love you, I'll see you tonight."

"I love you too. Have a great day at work!" George sung out lovingly as Y/n walked out the door, parting ways with her boyfriend - for work.

The drive there was peaceful to say the least.
Y/n was singing random songs aloud, not caring if she stayed in key nor rhythm. And her yellow VW didn't give her any troubles this go around.

In spite of the good morning Y/n was having thus far, her day quickly took a turn for the worst when she arrived at her job - a local coffee cafe in Liverpool.

"You're late again, Miss. Y/l/n!" Y/n's boss, Thomas Grant roared from across the shop, heads turning in the direction he was yelling at.

"I am not. I'm on time Mr. Grant. The time says-" Y/n began, looking at her watch.

"7:00?" Thomas answered his own question, striding up to the dumbfounded Y/n. "The clocks changed last night. I thought you of all people would know that."

"I-I-" She stuttered. "It was a simple mistake... it won't happen again sir, I promise."

"I'm sure it won't. Because you're fired."

"What?" Y/n question gently, her head tilting slightly. She wasn't quite sure if she heard him correctly. He couldn't fire her over this, she's only ever been late one other time. This was preposterous.

"You're fired! Need me to spell it out for you?" Thomas spat.

"W-why? What have I done?"

"It's what haven't you done, Miss. Y/l/n. You're fired because of the lack of work you're putting into this job. A man could do so much more. I don't need a woman on the team, the only woman on the team mind you, who can't carry her own weight."

The words hit Y/n straight on. She was being fired because she was a woman.

"Okay. Thank you for this opportunity you've given me, Mr. Grant." She acknowledged bleakly, glancing around at all the people who had stared throughout the entirety of the conversation.

No one even bothered to step up for her.

Never being in this situation before, she did the only thing she knew how to do. She left.

Suppressing oncoming tears that so badly needed to pour out, Y/n briskly walked across the street to her old motorcar, hopping in; leaning her head on the steering wheel.

"Good grief," She heaved, talking to herself. "What just happened?"

Taking her head off the controls, Y/n grabbed the keys out from her pocket, putting it in the ignition.

Though, it didn't start.

"No- not now! Anytime but now!" Y/n whimpered loudly, trying desperately to get the car moving; even going as far as to push the banger forward from behind.

But it was no use. Nothing was going to get this 1950 VW beetle running. She checked her wallet for cash, but could only find two measly dollars, not even close enough for the cost of a cab.

Thus leaving Y/n deserted - the only viable option was for her was to make the long walk home. The usual 30 minute drive would take at least two grueling hours on foot.

So Y/n set off without a backward glance, walking in the direction of her shared flat. She had no money, no car, and no job. What more did she have to loose?

Apparently, more than she knew.

It began to downpour halfway through her excursion. The cold wet raindrops hit her like a ton of bricks, slowing her down to a snails pace - her body practically becoming a chatter box.

As if things couldn't get any worse, the sole on one of her loafers came off, leaving her with only a single shoe in the pouring rain.

But after a long painful journey, she finally reached her destination, ending at least some of her misery.

Walking into her apartment, Y/n sulked over to the linen sofa, slumping down carelessly, companionless, and dejected, wanting nothing more than to be held by her partner, George.

It took nearly 8 hours for Y/n's  prayers to be answered - and the whole time, she was sat in the same spot, not doing much of anything, but crying.

"Y/n, I'm home Darlin'!" He hollered as he walked through the entryway, placing his things on the sparkling tile floor; waiting for his beloved to come up and greet him.

But, that never happened.

"Lady Y/n, where are you my dove?" George called out, walking into the sitting room where Y/n still sat. "Oh, there you are- Y/n? Are you alright?" Never before has George Harrison seen his girlfriend cry.

"Darling, talk to me." George timidly cooed, quickly darting to Y/n's side.

It took Y/n a few moments to prepare herself for the things she'd have to recall, but when she was ready, she looked George in his eyes and sighed tearfully.

"I got fired." She evoked, tears sopping down her face. "I got fired for being a woman."

"Oh, darling..." George gasped quietly, placing a hand on Y/n's shoulder.

"That's not even the worse part." She continued. "People just stared at me. Nobody cared enough to stand up for me. So I left. I-I got to my car and tried to get it running, but it wouldn't start. I didn't know what else to do, so I walked home."

"It was pouring out there not too long ago!" George exclaimed faintly.

"It started when I was walking, and it never stopped. I thought the worse part was over. But my shoe fell apart. And-And...I've had the worse day ever!" Y/n sobbed loudly, covering her eyes with her hands.

"N/n, dove, it's alright." George soothed, pulling the distraught Y/n into his arms firmly. "I'm here. I'm always here."

"Please...just hold me tight. I-I need you." Y/n buried her head on George's neck.

"I'd never dream of letting you go."