i'M FiNE | Starrison [✖️]

Chapter eighteen

Uhm this is a pretty long chapter and I placed here important parts so yeah uhm carry on (my wayward son there'll be peace when you are gone)

BTW a bit of a long and important Author's note on the bottom too

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George's fists rapped against the door repeatedly.

"Ringo please open the door!" His fingernails scraped the wooden surface. "Ringo please!"

He pressed his ear into the door. His heart sanked as he heard gut-wrenching sobs from his lover. He jiggled the doorknob but the door wouldn't budge.

"Ringo---"

"Get the fuck away from me!" He screamed at him. "Get away from me Harrison!"

He shook his head stubbornly, even if he knew that Ringo didn't have x-ray vision to see it from the other side.

He felt tears prick his eyes. He blinked it away, biting his bottom lip so hard he tasted rusty metal on his tongue. "I'm not leaving you!" He yelled back. "I will never leave you, Ritchie." His voice gotten softer, gentler, and Ringo almost went for the door. Almost.

"P-Please go..." He whimpered. George barely heard his voice. It was muffled and barely understandable. He must be curled up in a ball in the corner of the bathroom. The image formed in his head made him wince, and he struggled with the doorknob again.

Then an idea so ridiculous but oddly effective popped in his head.

He's going to sing.

Because, fuck it, Ringo was more important than his self-esteem.

"You don't realize how much I need you." He winced at how his voice sounded. He never really liked his voice that much but he had to. "Love you all the time and never leave you."

"G-George---"

"Please come on back to me, I'm lonely as can be~" He pressed his ear against the door. Ringo was sniffling, supposedly calming down. "I need you." George's voice cracked. He took a sharp intake of breathe, feeling the sob that was about to bubble in his throat. "I n-need you, Ritchie."

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George waited. His back was against the door and he slid down and hugged his knees. He fished out a cigarette and smoked.

And he smoked.

And he smoked.

And he smoked.

He breathed cancer in and out.

Several thoughts ran in his head and they were far too fucking noisy.

Tears pricked his eyes again.

you sure fucked up this time, Hari

"Ritchie?" He called out with a rough voice. His throat hurt and he didn't know if that was from smoking so much cigarettes or from crying so hard. "I'm sorry for what I did."