So, I did it! I wrote in a different POV. Yay! Tell me how I did as George, haha, he's adorable. Thank you to the awesome Ilovetheoldies, TheBeatlesMopTops, and FlowerChild17! I love you all! Let's try to get to 20 reviews for chapter 8! WE CAN DO IT! Disclaimer: I do not own anything I make reference too. None of this actually happened, sadly. :(


George's POV

As soon as Paul went to the spare bedroom, I began to 'interrogate' my new guest. She, in my opinion, was unique looking, one of the most outstanding looking women I had seen. Even Brigitte Bardot couldn't hold a candle to this little beauty.

"So Miss Jae, tell me about yourself." I asked handing her the tea.

"What's there to know? I'm not very interesting." she had made her way to the lumpy couch.

"Au contraire, Daniella, I find you intriguing." I followed her, my eyes raking over her tiny little frame, all the way down to her black converse.

"Well," she began, sipping on her tea, "First off, this is delicious. I've never had authentic British tea before."

Chuckling at her cute little joke, I sat down directly next to the pretty little American.

"Well I'm glad I could be your first… wait no I didn't mean that!" my cheeks must have turned bright maroon, which caused her to laugh one of the most adorable chortles my ears had ever heard.

"You're hilarious, George, why don't you tell me about yourself?" her eyebrow rose, enticing jade eyes opening wide.

I was memorized. There was something, something about this creature that made my mind to race, heart flutter, and caused butterflies to dance in my stomach. Nearly two hours ago, I had been moaning to Ringo about how all the girls wanted Paul, the doe-eyed goody good flirt, and John, the reckless bad boy charmer. In Hamburg, I had found a couple of birds to satisfy his needs, but love… love had never occurred, just meaningless sex. Daniella was different. A feeling told me that she was different.

"There's nothing quite interesting bout me darling'. Just a scouse that plays the guitar." I joked, searching her face.

Light little freckles decorated her porcelain complexion, rosy full lips smiled at me, and those incredible jade eyes seemed to put up a wall between us, there was a pain beneath them that she tried to keep buried down. One of my talents that no one knew besides the band was the ability to look right through anyone. It had served me well with the girls…

"Ya know, George, you really don't have to stay on the couch. I don't want to put you out of your bed." she spoke, gazing casually into mine.

"No, Dani, no, you are my… my guest. Me ma always told me to treat me guests with the upmost respect." I tucked a vibrant auburn curl behind her ear, feeling the softness of her hair.

"Well aren't you just the perfect little gentleman?" she took a swig of the tea, eyes never leaving mine.

"Far from it dear." I was getting a teeny bit impatient.

"Now," I said as I placed my tea down on the table, "Tell me your story, gorgeous."

"Well, my name is Daniella, but everyone calls me Dani. I turned 18… in June. I used to live with my Aunt Lizzy and her two boys, Brian and Neil, or as I call them BriNeil. We moved a lot, seeing as Aunt Liz couldn't hold down a job for too long. Too independent, ya know?" she opened up slightly, still keeping a little barrier between us. I nodded along with her words.

"When I was 13, I got really into music; she even bought me a cheap, fake Les Paul for Chanukah. Oh, and by the way," she said, pulling out her necklace, "I'm Jewish."

The little Jewish star shone in the low lighting of my apartment.

"It's beautiful, Dani. Where did you get it?" I asked, stoking the backside of the star.

"It was my Mom's, before she… passed away. Then Lizzy inherited it. And then… I got it when… when…" she stopped mid sentence. I could see the watery tears build up in those magical eyes as she blinked them away.

"S'okay luv, you can tell me." I placed a hand over her's, wanting her to trust me.

"She died when I was 15. Lung cancer." she choked out, trying hard not to break down.

"Dani, I'm so sorry. If you feel awkward, we can just talk about tea." I tried to cheer her up seeing as I hated people being sad.

Wiping away a stray tear, she flashed a closed smile and laid her head back on the couch.

"Thank you George. It's just… hard to talk about. When she… died, the boys took off, leaving me stranded in Chicago. I had to… do things in order to keep a roof over my head. Gosh," she said, voice shaking, "I've never really opened up to anyone like this."

Pulling her into my arms, I felt her forehead on the curve of my neck.

"I'm 'ere for you. Look, I know we just met, but I feel like… like I've know you forever!" I tried desperately not to sound creepy.

Bright eyes looked up at me as she said, "I feel the same way."

Bringing herself up again, she faced me, red ringlets framed her angelic appearance. We talked for hours, talking about our pasts, family, friends, music, and life. For a girl, she knew a lot about music and guitars. I was very impressed, to say the least. Smart, too, along with being insanely enchanting looking. She also asked a lot of questions about me self and the band. Looking over at the clock, I noticed it was late. Lively eyes turned sleepy, and soon they were closed, her body nudging against mine. Soft, tiny, breathing noise came from her slightly parted lips.

Lord, she looks so young when she's resting. Like a little child…

"C'mon luv." I picked her small body up from the uncomfortable couch and brought her to me bed. Placing her gently on the right side, I grabbed a blanket and draped it over her. The whole night I spent looking at her, twirling a curl or two in me fingers, before I drifted off into a deep sleep.

The Next Morning

George's POV

Brilliant beams of golden light gently awakened my tired body, warming me. I turned more on my side, trying to avoid the bright gleaming shine from hitting my eyes. As I settled into the bed, vivid, coppery-auburn ringlets were brought into fruition, and the female figure stirred slightly.

Dani.

Visions of the night before clouded my hazy, sleepy memory. I had slightly broken the obstruction that the girl had shielded herself with, probably to avoid pain.

Probably has some trust issues. I'm hungry.

Rumbling loudly, I carefully lifted myself out of the bed, trying to not disturb the slumbering beauty. The door was slightly ajar, making it much easier to slip out without emitting a lot of noise. As I made my way down the short corridor, the sound of a gentle bass played softly from my spare room.

Damn, I forgot that McCartney was here.

"Paul, that you?" I whispered.

"Who the hell do ya think it is?" the all too familiar voice called out.

I shushed him and gave him a dirty look.

"Oh yah, Mal's girl is stayin' 'ere." He said, smirking.

"She's not Mal's girl. She's an ASSISTANT." I said, plopping down on the cheap bed.

"Assisting in what? That's the question!" he wagged his figure to the heavens.

Despite the fact that he was like my brother and my best friend, Paul could really piss me off sometimes.

"Don't talk about her like that! She's… she's been through a lot!" I scowled at his indications.

Suddenly, footsteps creaked and a small voice called, "Boys?"

Paul stood, walking over to paint chipped door.

"Good Morning Sunshine!" he smiled, looking at an unseen Dani.

"Morning, Paul, where's my bag? And George?"

"In 'ere!" I shouted, making myself known.

"Morning George!" she called back, voice slightly cracking.

"Oh! There it is!" Paul said, picking up the luggage.

"Thank you! Where is your bathroom?" Dani had popped her head around the corner.

"To the right." I said, gazing into those beautiful eyes.

"Thanks!" and with that, she disappeared.

Paul returned to the bed, picking up his bass and gently plucking it.

"She's a looker, ain't she?" he said, looking down at the strings.

"She's bloody gorgeous." I sighed, thinking of that long, curly hair framing her petite little face.

"Georgie has a wittle crush on Dani!" he jeered.

Throwing a pillow at him, I politely told him to shut the fuck up.

"You do! She 'asn't even been 'ere a day an you're already in love with 'er!" he half sneered, half joked.

"I'm not in loved with 'er, I barely know 'er!" I tried to defend myself.

"George," he said with the rare smart-arse side of Macca, "You have a talent, an expertise, for readin people like book."

Though this was true, it was also true that I had just met her, and yes, she was unbelievably beautiful, but that doesn't change the fact that WE JUST MET LAST NIGHT.

"I'm hungry." I decided to avoid the conversation and head to the kitchen, only to catch a glance at an open bathroom door, where Dani was hunched over the sink, washing her face. Her hair was tied back in a low pony-tail, draping the length of her back.

Is it strange that I'm watching a girl wash her face? Probably.

Trying to avoid the awkwardness that would ensue from staring at her, I made my way to the kitchen and made some breakfast, thinking only of the little ginger woman in my house.

Dani's POV

After last night, I had felt… really, really weird. As much as I loved speaking with George, it was as though I had been stripped down to the core, which, if you know me, I hate very much. I guess we had talked for a couple of hours before I just passed out. When I woke up, a cushy mattress lay below me, my head rested on a flimsy pillow, and a toasty blanket covered my body.

I think I'm in George's room.

I opened my eyes to search for the Beatle to find that he was not here. A part of me did not want to leave the comfy bed, but I knew that I would have to eventually have to. Getting up, I realized that I was still dressed in my full outfit.

Dammit, where's my bag?

Stumbling through the hall, I heard some mumbling from an adjacent room.

"Boys?" my croaky morning voice spoke.

The boyish baby face of Paul McCartney appeared from the little nest of a room.

"Good Morning Sunshine!" his bubbly voice cooed.

Stop being so freaking adorable!

My morning voice was as charming as an eel, so my goal was to keep this as short as humanly possible.

"Morning, Paul," I squawked, "Where is my bag? And George?"

The Liverpudlian accent filled my ears.

"IN 'ERE!"

Why is he so effortlessly beautiful?

Excitement over hearing him caused to shout out "Morning George" in the most attractive voice ever. Paul handed me my bag, gave me a big, goofy Paul smile and pointed me in the direction of the bathroom.

"Thanks!" I called back, trying to mask my froggy speech.

Making my way to the bathroom, I carried my bag and placed it next to me. My makeup bag had been slipped into the front pocket, along with the packet Brian had stuck in there. I pulled both out and read it.

Around September 1962, you will move in with George Harrison.

That's interesting.

My mind didn't feel like absorbing any shocking news, so I packed it away and pulled out a face wash. Pulling hair back into a ponytail, I wet my hands and pumped the gel on them. The cooling sensation of the wash soothed my skin, removing any traces of makeup or tears.

SCRUB MY FACE LIKE A MOTHER FACKERR!

The freezing water definitely woke me up, and I grabbed a moisturizer from the clutch. Creamy lotion coated my face, blending into nothingness. Brushing my teeth, I looked around at the small bathroom. There was nothing special, besides the fact that it was George Harrison's.

A scent of orange told me that someone was making tea.

These Brits and their tea, I guess one part of the stereotype is true.

Spitting the minty paste out, I rinsed my mouth and took my hair out of its captivity.

"Ello, luv, done with your girly ritual?" a voice called behind me.

"Oh ha-ha, Mr. McCartney, and yes, I'm done." Grasping the bag, I went back to George's bedroom, closed the door, and changed into some casual shorts and cotton v-neck.

The door swung open, revealing a pajama wearing George.

"Ello, Dani, 'ow are ya this morning?" he sweetly smiled, looking at my agape suitcase.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking, how are you, George?" I tousled my hair and sat down on the bed.

"I'm wonderful, dear, I just… wanted to tell you that… ya know…I'm 'ere for you." He had also perched himself on the bed, patting my thigh.

"Thank you George, I appreciate it." We locked eyes for a moment before the front door slammed open.

"GEO! MACCA! GET YUR BLOODY ARSES UP!" John yelled out.

George rolled his eyes and sighed before getting up to greet his friend.

"And 'ow the 'ell did you get in 'ere, Lennon?" Paul asked.

"I 'ave my ways." He replied, pouring some tea for himself.

Walking to the front room, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

Ew.

"DANI!" John called, rushing over to give me a bear hug.

"Agh… hello John." I said my ribs hurting from his embrace.

"Why don't we show a little more enthusiasm, eh?" he combed my hair back.

"No." I smiled and walked over to the couch.

A familiar face popped up from the outside world.

"Daniella, Good Morning luv!" Ringo had walked in, wearing casual clothes and fingers full of rings.

"Morning, Ringo." I plopped down on the couch.

"Would you like some food, Dan?" Paul asked.

My stomach kind of hurt, so I replied with a no, which prompted John to grab a cookie and shove it in my face.

"EAT IT! EAT IT! YOU NEED IT!" he shouted.

"JOHN, GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME!" I screamed, laughing at his attempts.

Ringo and Paul both exclaimed, "LANGUAGUE!" while George chuckled.

"NEVER!" John fought the cookie into my mouth.

"John, give the girl a break!" Ringo pulled him off of me.

"Ow." I said, chewing the shortbread.

George came to my rescue, examining my jaw.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" he asked, concern filling his chocolaty eyes.

"I'm perfect, peachy-keen." I said as I wiped the crumbs from my lips.

"I know you're perfect." He said, tracing my chin.

The three of them coughed loudly.

"Really, Georgie?" Ringo said, patting his friend on the back.

"Oh shut up." He whispered, blushing.

"Well, John said that Martin's sick so we can't record today. What shall we do?" Paul spoke.

"We can go see a picture!" John called.

"Sure, why not?" George got up and leaned against the counter.

"Nothing's playing until noon." Ringo fiddle with one of his rings.

"Just enough time for Dani to put on her face." John joked, patting my cheek.

Giving the evil eye, I flashed him a special finger before smirking and heading to the bedroom.

I was about to spend the entire day with my four favorite guys. Could life be any sweeter?


WHOOP THERE IT IS! End of Chapter 7! I hope you enjoyed this, I found it quite fun to write. Especially John. I wrote an essay paper about him awhile back & always loved the goofy side of him, so I try to incorporate that A LOT. THANK YOU FOR READING, let's get to 20 reviews and I might just post numero ocho tomorrow ;) LOVE YOU!