The Beatles Imagines Book

George #6

Request

"What about this one?" You said to your friend as you flipped through different songs in the jukebox of your favorite club.

It was loud and much more crowded than you would have liked, but The Beatles were playing tonight and you couldn't afford to miss a show again or your friend Paul would kill you.

"I don't know, maybe something else," your friend replied distractedly as she scanned the room for someone to share the night with.

You rolled your eyes and ignored her, playing your favorite one regardless.

"Hey," she said sharply, turning back with a frown at your choice, which was one she hadn't heard yet.

You smirked and threw your leg over your knee confidently, "Oh hush, when have I ever had bad taste in this area?"

"S'cuse me," a boy said as he approached your friend, "mind if I bum a cigarette?"

Your friend blushed as his baby blue eyes looked her up and down, "Of course," she practically squeaked.

You chuckled as you watched them chat on about how pretty she looked tonight after she had given him his dose of nicotine. Your eyes wandered back to the jukebox as you accepted the fact you'd be spending the night hanging by the side of this brightly lit machine instead of your friend. You were a tad dismayed. You had no interest, but the boy didn't even bother offering his name, asking yours or even throwing a glance your way.

"He's a prick, you know," a Liverpudlian drawl said over the music of the jukebox.

You looked up to meet a welcoming pair of dark brown eyes barley peeking out from under a matching dark brown mop of hair.

"For not introducing himself I mean," the boy said in response to your confused and furrowed brow.

He smiled a toothy grin and held out his hand, "George," he said, "Harrison. I bet your names just as pretty as you, huh?"

You shook his hand and laughed, "(y/n)."

"Exactly," he said, beaming at your flattered expression, "are you here for the show tonight?"

"Yes, my friend Paul is in the band, so I'm required," you said, scooting over so the tall and not to mention handsome boy could take a seat next to you.

"Ah, McCartney is a tough one to say no to," he said with a laugh.

"You know him?"

"I'm his guitarist," he said as he playfully adjusted the neck of his tie.

You found yourself blushing a bit. You had a thing for guitarists. Especially this one, the more he spoke.

"No kidding," you said, laughing at the mixture of confidence in the mention of his craft, but the shyness behind his smile.

"I don't kid, love," he said with a wink, "I mean well, I suppose sometimes."

He smiled at the laughter he earned from you and the pretty gleam in your eyes when you met his.

"You have me wishing I wasn't though so I could just sit here with you all night," he added.

You looked down to your shoes, totally aware of his eyes on you all the while, "You've got me wishing you could too."

His stomach twisted when you said that, "You should stay after the show then, make both of us happy."

"I might very well do that, George Harrison," you said, blushing under his brown eyes.

"George, we're on!" Paul said grabbing him away, "you can flirt with this one later."

"Hold on," George said, letting Paul run ahead.

He looked shy, but he gathered his courage and placed a quick kiss on your cheek, "Mind if I say hi again after?"

"If you do it like that, you're always welcome," you said, making him blush this time.

"It's a date then," he said, leaning in to give you one more.

He ran off towards the stage, leaving you almost star struck.

"You lucky ass," you heard your friend whisper
as she sat down again next to you.

"I know," you said confidently without letting your eyes leave George's smiling face as he threw his guitar strap over his head.