IF NOT FOR YOU {George Harrison}

Chapter 8

George

"Geo, if ye don't stop gazing out the window like some sort of old gran, I'm going to throw this at ye."

I glanced at John, who was wielding a pillow. There were a few poetry books strewn across his lap, and one notebook that was full of chicken scratch, along with a pencil. John had been bedridden for almost 4 days, and he was slowly becoming more and more annoying.

"I'll "gaze" as much as I bloody want, mate."

John rolled his eyes, and turned, his glasses catching light.

" Yer just grumpy cause I've a personal nurse."

Dash had been popping in twice a day since John had first gotten really sick. She would administer pain medicine and force him to drink lemon tea, which he said tasted like foot.

"Must be because you've always got a foot in yer mouth, Lenny."

Paul had received two sets of glares (Dash and John, it made me and Stu laugh) for that one.

I felt guilty for not listening to him earlier that day when he'd complained that his head was aching. Although, in my defense, he had a history of milking it until someone told him to shut up.

"I'm not jealous, John."

John smirked at me over his copy of Edgar Allen Poe: Complete Works.

"Said nothin' bout ye bein' jealous, Haz."

I felt heat creep into my cheeks, and I rose.

"I'm goin' out."

I heard John's mocking laughter behind me as I walked into the hot summer air.

"Would ye jus go see her? Ye know she likes ye!"

"I rather think she likes you more then me, Johnny."

"She doesn't! I told ye, that was an accident!"

I shrugged off his words, slamming the door shut.

The streets were busy, as usual. Women wearing little to no clothing were parading about, none catching my eye. They didn't appeal to me like it did to John, Paul, and Pete. It seemed wrong to pay someone to make love, at least in my mind. My goal was to wait until I was married to be with a woman. But, I will be the first to admit, that sometimes, late at night, I wanted nothing more then to call in one of the birds off the street like the other boys did. There was nothing wrong with the profession of these women, but it wasn't for me. I wouldn't let it be for me.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and a woman with dark curls and deep set blue eyes was seductively smirking at me.

"Hey, tiger, was sagst du, wir finden einen dunklen Schrank, in dem wir uns unterhalten können?"

I understood her roughly, (she had asked if I wanted to find a dark closet to talk in) and muttered, "Nein."

I pulled my shoulder from her red nailed hand, and she hissed an annoyed curse.

I continued my stroll, finding myself heading to Astrid and Dash's apartment. I had been there once, to drop off a tea cup that they'd left there. Dash had been the one to answer the door, and I'd been so bloody nervous that I'd dropped the tea cup.

I had tried my best to stay out of her sights after that, but it's difficult with John getting twice daily visits.

I saw a flower vender, and thought, well, I can't just go to there house with no reason. That'd be too suspicious. Why it would be suspicious and what would be suspicious, I didn't know.