"She Loves You" and Other One-Shots Regarding the Beatles.

Something - George

His eyes were open wide, his mind astray. He stared at her, her with her blonde hair cut just long enough to scrape the middle of her back. Her with her eyes that sparkled a brown when she looked at him. He could stare at her all day if he had too, but he happened to look away when she looked at him. He had spoke to her, nevertheless, exchanged a few wry remarks. John and Paul often teased him about these incidents, had even gotten up the nerve to suggest themselves asking her to get together with him. Ringo had been distantly quiet, and showed no interest in the absence of George's attempts to invite the girl to a coffee shop or some other place of the like; George's assumption of the broken heart Ringo sustained. He caught another glimpsing look at him from the woman. He looked down at the floor and smiled. Though she was across the room from him, he was certain her eyes were on him still. He braced another look upwards, saw he was right, and returned his glance to the floor. As bizarre as these glances were, they were nice, too. 

There was something about the way she looked at him. It seemed she was looking through him, and yet seeing everything about him, as if he were a book free to read and understand. Free to acknowledge. Out of all the people in the busy cafe, she picked him to look at. 

He looked at her again and stumbled a few steps backwards. She was right in front of him, a smile on her face. He returned the face and said, "Hello."

"Hello to you, too. I was wondering if you would like to get a cup of tea with me?"

"Would you mind telling me your name first?"

She laughed. "Yes, I would. Milenda Holly."

"George Harrison."

"Nice to meet you, George."

"You, too, Milenda." 

"So, how about that tea?"

George smiled.

~

There must have been something in the tea - maybe a bit of an overload on the sugar. All George knew, his heart was beating quicker and quicker each time he looked at Milenda. She would smile at him, the same smile she had given when she had walked the length of the cafe to greet him. A silly thought bit at his brain: perhaps, she liked him, too? It was all and all, a silly thought with two choices, both of which made him anxious feeling inside. He knew she was looking at him with a glint in her eye he knew had nothing to do with the tea in the cups. 

Milenda leaned over towards him and said, "Is the tea well enough for you?"

George laughed. "Yes, quite"

He knew it was not his imagination; he could see the glint clearer now, as if the lights were shining into her eyes and off. His eyes flickered to her lips. It was more clear that she was thinking the same thing he was. She kissed him. He smiled when she pulled away, the taste of tea still lingering on his tongue. They had a few more cups of tea then returned to the cafeteria, the place where they had met. There would be many more of these afternoons in the tea-shop, more kisses, too. It was guaranteed with George and Milenda.