George Harrison Imagines

Taking A Break

I glance at the clock which reads 1 PM. Pursing my lips I head to the kitchen and grab two glasses, filling them with the coldest water our tap will allow.

I exit through the back door, taking a deep breath trough my nose, enjoying the sweet scent of nature.

"Now, where is he...." I mutter to myself, heading off toward the most recent focus of George's attention. He'd been out since who knows what time this morning, and I'm willing to bet he's getting quite thirsty.

After walking for a few minutes, a light sheen of sweat breaks out across my skin. He's most definitely thirsty. He's got to be.

I take a small sip from one of the glasses, pausing to take in George's most recent handiwork. I close my eyes and breathe deeply, the serene sound of the beautiful nature surrounding me making the heat seem not as bad.

I walk further along, taking in the lush green sights. I come to a path lined with gorgeous tiger lilies, I smile, following their luminous beauty down the shaded path.

My footsteps are near silent as I lightly tread along the fragrant flowers. Soon I hear faint humming, and a wide grin spreads across my face.

I exit the little path to find George by a large pond, sitting cross-legged at the natural mirror's edge.

I walk up to him, and he notices immediately, turning his head up to smile at me.

He looks absolutely perfect, sweat glistening across his handsome face, dirt from his hard morning of gardening worn proudly like badges of honor across his clothes and arms.

"Hey, love!" He greets happily, eyes moving to the water in my hand.

"That for me?" He asks, standing up with a glimmer of excitement in his eyes.

I grin, "you've been out here for hours, Geo. You must be bloody thirsty."

He grins that perfect crooked grin of his, sending my heart into a fluttering mess.

He takes one of the glasses while I set the other on the ground next to me. I run my hand up his arm, "how on Earth are you wearing this?" I ask, bunching the fabric of his flannel in my hand loosely.

He shrugs taking a sip of the water, "ohh.....Hare Krishna, love....that's nice..." My breath catches in my throat as I watch him tilt the glass back to his lips, drinking down big gulps of the water greedily. My eyes follow his Adam's apple as it bobs along with his swallows.

I lick my lips subconsciously as I watch rivulets of water escape the corners of his mouth, slowly trailing down his throat, disappearing behind his half unbuttoned shirt.

He finishes off the glass quickly, letting out a low groan of satisfaction.

"Ta, darling. That really hit the spot." His deep eyes roam my face after I don't respond, smiling at my obvious staring.

"Mmmm...seems like you could use something to hit your own spot, ay?" He asks, as he takes a step closer.

My face reddens slightly at getting caught, and I rub my neck in embarrassment.

He tilts my chin up to look me in the eyes, "is there something I can do to help, ______?" His voice is dangerously low, making my knees feel like jelly.

He unbuttons his shirt the rest of the way, throwing it carelessly behind him.

"Cat got your tongue, darling?" He teases, kicking his shoes off, then unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them down, revealing the fact he's wearing no underwear.