A/N Woah, if I knew One would be this popular, I would have posted it last year when I wrote it! Thanks to all who reviewed! I appreciate it!

Beware, this chappie is a bit angsty.

Disclaimer: If I owned Taylor Swift and the Beatles, I wouldn't even be writing this story. SO GO TAKE A HIKE OFF THE GRAND CANYON!


Chapter 2

One Year Later

As the year passed by, I'd had my head stuck in the past. I would go back in time and change everything that happened between me and George, but it was too late. He wouldn't even talk to me now, and Paul said when I called, he left the room.

After John left that night, I did as he said, mildly curious as to what might happen. I was in there for hours, then decided that calling Cynthia would be the best option, considering I was no help to myself.

"But do you love him?" She asked.

"Of course I do, Cyn, he's like a brother to me, my oldest friend who's not related to me."

"But do you love him."

I'd paused for a moment. I was still working out whether I had feelings for him or not. It was still painful for me to think about him, like someone was cutting me a thousand times with a razor blade. I'd had three more conversations with Cynthia about this, and each one of them ended in utter confusion.

I missed him. I missed all of them like hell. I missed Paul calling me to wake up (even though he still did sometimes). I missed John making me laugh by singing Rock n' Roll Music through three chocolate chip cookies wedged in his mouth. Most of all, I missed George, faithfully waiting for me when I was walking to school, being there when I needed him, for trusting me, and being my best friend.

The more I thought about him, the more I missed him, and the more I missed him, the more I needed to get my feelings out.

I spoke to John about this sudden urge over the phone.

"Write a song," He told me. "That's what you need to do."

"How?" I asked. I'd seen Paul write songs before, but I'd never known how to do it myself.

"Just think about what you're going through right now, and write it in words." He coached. "Then, once you have the words, the rest will go easier."

I said nothing for a moment, then John spoke again.

"Listen, I know you love George. I know why you don't know this. You're too stubborn to admit it to yourself, but I can see it in your eyes when you look at him. I've seen it since September, when Mary died." I winced at the mention of my mother. "Do you remember what happened?" John pressed on.

"You and George came over. You were with Paul and George held me until I stopped crying. It was the first time he'd seen me cry."

"Exactly. I knew you two loved each other that very moment. And from then on I've waited for this to happen, so make it happen before I kill you." I smiled at his impatient tone.

"Thanks, John; I know what to do now." I grinned, put the phone down, then ran to where the old piano was, and planned out my first song.

Today was the day the boys came home. Today was also the day I showed them my new song, and made up with George (hopefully).

I waited patiently by the piano, listening for the door. Finally, the lock clicked and the door opened.

"Annie said she's in the basement, so- yes, George, you have to stay, she wants to show us something. Particularly you." I heard John's voice from the top of the stairs, and questioned my ability to go through with this.

"Anna!" Paul shouted, suddenly in the basement. "I missed you sis! You look great!"

I smiled genuinely for the first time since December, when George stopped talking to me. "I missed you too, Paul, thanks."

I hugged John then smoothed my white dress, and cleared my throat. "As for what I wanted to show you, well, I took John's advice, and wrote my feelings out the best I could."

I sat down at the piano and began my song.

"I'm so glad you made time to see me, how's life, tell me how's your family, I haven't seen them in a while. You've been good, busier than ever, we small talk, work and the weather. Your guard is up and I know why. Because the last time you saw me is still burned in the back of your mind, you gave me roses, and I left them there to die."

I turned my eyes away from the keys to peek at George. He was looking at the floor, his expression unreadable. I took as deep of a breath that I could and continued.

"So this is me swallowing my pride standing in front of you saying I'm sorry for that night, and I go back to December all the time, it turns out freedom 'aint nothing but missing you wishing I'd realized what I had when you were mine, and I go back to December all the time."

I looked to John, and he looked strangely guilty. I'd have to ask him about that later.

"These days, I haven't been sleeping, staying up playing back myself leaving, when your birthday passed and I didn't call. And I think about summer all the beautiful times, I watched you laughing from the passenger side, but I realized I loved you in our fall. The cold came, the dark days when fear crept into my mind, you gave me all your love and all I gave you was goodbye."

I looked to Paul now, and he smiled proudly at me. He obviously knew I meant what I wrote and who it was about.

"So this is me swallowing my pride standing in front of you saying I'm sorry for that night, and I go back to December all the time. It turns out freedom 'aint nothing but missing you, wishing I'd realized what I had when you were mine, and I go back to December all the time."

I looked around once more, and realized it was just me and George now. I was grateful for him staying, especially for this part.

"I miss your tan skin, your sweet smile, so good to me, so right. And how you held me in your arms that September night, the first time that you ever saw me cry. Maybe this is wishful thinking, probably mindless dreaming, but if we loved again, I swear I'd love you right."

I looked into George's eyes as I sang the next few lines.

"I'd go back in time and change it, but I can't. So if the chain is on your door, I understand."

"But this is me swallowing my pride standing in front of you saying I'm sorry for that night, and I go back to December, turns out freedom 'aint noting but missing you wishing I'd realised what I had when you were mine, and I go back to December, turn around and change my own mind, and I go back to December all the time."

I played the final notes on the piano, then let them fade out, waiting for George to say something, but there was only silence.

"Say something," I pleaded, not being able to stand another moment of silence.

George said nothing, merely looking thoughtful for a moment. Then he got up, his tall frame towering over mine, and held out his hand. I took it, expecting him to help me off the piano stool, but instead, he yanked me forward into his arms and I thudded against his chest. I wrapped my arms around his thin waist and breathed in his familiar scent. I let the tears fall freely and whispered, "I'm so sorry, George, I'm so sorry," Over and over.

He said nothing, but the way he held me told me that he missed me just as much, if not more, than I missed him.

"George?" I murmured into his chest.

"Hm,"

"I love you." He drew away from me slightly, but thankfully it was only to look into my eyes.

"Do you? I though you were scared of ruining our friendship."

"It's a chance I'm willing to take."

"But what if-"

"Someone very smart told me that sometimes you have to ignore the "what ifs" and do what's best for you." I heard some one snicker at this, but ignored it.

"But what about-"

I put my finger to his lips. "Just kiss me you dork."


A/N *gasp* CLIFFHANGER! ...Kinda...

Okay, so I sort of took the Back to December thing from FearlessHeart, who wrote Something: The Story of Sasha McCartney. ILY! DON'T KILL ME!

._. ...Just review, okay?