Author's Note: Hello again! So I wanted to throw out thanks and virtual hugs to anyone who's read, reviewed, favorited, alerted, blah you get it :) Thanks guys! You're all the greatest people I've never met! Kay well this is one of those chapters that I wrote while I should've been paying attention in class but honestly, what fun would that be? (that's probably why I'm failing math but no one has to know that) Anywho! I kinda like this chapter. And I sincerely hope you all do too :D You could tell me if you do in a review. Or maybe comment on some lingering questions I'm sure you may have ;)

Annie never liked her appearance very much. She saw it as something unattractive that could always be improved upon. Frowning in the mirror she shut her eyes and willed them to be a color other than that sickly green. She wished the obnoxious freckles tainting her cheeks would sink into her pale skin and disappear forever. But what she hated most of all was her hair.

She raked her fingers through the long ghastly scarlet curls and sighed. You didn't see many redheads marching about The Pool, or much of England for that matter, so she stuck out like a sore thumb. Anyone could notice her a mile away. The hideous color was also the factor behind many of her childhood nicknames like "Little Red", "Ginger" or "Pippi" and even "Flame". God, she hated that. People that didn't even know her called her some shit like "Gingy" and she'd always want to make sure they never had kids again. Maybe Flame was an appropriate title…

This was why she often wondered what everyone else saw. When she looked in the mirror she saw someone that was strictly average, or even something below that line. On more than one occasion, however, people told her she was absolutely lovely and they envied her natural good looks and vibrant hair color. Why weren't they in a loony bin?

But then there was George. They had been sitting in his flat watching the telly. He held her in his comforting circle of his arms and stroked her horridly colored hair.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he whispered.

"Don't say that," she sighed.

"Why not? You are. I love everything about you, even the hair you seem to despise so much." He kissed the top of her head.

"About that, yeah. I was actually thinking of dying it."

"You can't!"

"Why not?"

"It's what makes you, you. It's sort of a defining characteristic."

"Well maybe I don't want to be me," she mumbled into his chest.

At that point he lifted her chin with a single finger and kissed her, effectively silencing all protests. She smiled wryly at his methods but they did indeed work. She never voiced any complaint at the multitude of compliments he threw her way.

Frowning at her reflection once more she decided she would just have to get over her issues and just accept herself as the way she was. Maybe it wasn't that bad. George did seem to like it. And right now all of this was for George. They were going out tonight, something she couldn't really make herself get excited over.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

She glanced up and saw Cristina leaning in the doorway with her arms crossed.

"It's nothing."

She sat cross-legged on the bed and smiled. "Are you worried about your date tonight?"

"Not really."

"You know, if you keep your face like that it'll stick."

"Har har."

"What's a-matter Annie?"

She sighed and sat on the bed beside her. "I don't know. I just feel…weird."

"Well snap out of it! George will want you to be completely focused for whatever activities he has planned tonight." She winked and Annie scoffed.

"That's just it. He's a male, a Liverpool musician at that. What I'm sure he wants I just can't give to him."

"Why not? I thought you liked him."

"Just because I like him doesn't mean I want to jump his bones every time I see him. It'll just feel wrong."

"I don't understand."

"Me neither."

They sat in silence for a while contemplating the current situation. Then Cristina said quietly, "Is this about Paul?"

Annie stood, slightly irritated. "Why the fuck do you think everything is about that prick? I've gotten on just fine without having anything to do with him so why would he suddenly affect my decisions now, huh?"

"But I just—"

"I've got to go. See you later."

Cristina stared after Annie's retreating figure and snorted. That girl was unbelievable. She could be in denial all she wanted but she, as in Cristina, truly knew what was going on here. Meanwhile, she had other things to worry about besides her idiotic friend, such as a blossoming problem that threatened to ruin her life as she knew it…

/.\

"Will you tell me where we're going now?"

George simply smiled and continued leading Annie through the darkened Liverpool streets. When he offered to take her out, just the two of them, he panicked when he realized he didn't know where to take her. But a light bulb went on after she left and he knew the perfect place, which is where they were headed now.

The atmosphere was beginning to resemble that of the spring season. The air wasn't as crisp and bone-cutting as it was during the winter but rather a comfortable temperature that was neither too warm nor too cold.

The change of season meant a change of attitude for the boys, who bore the symptoms of a long and grueling cold spell. They had all become rather irritable (something that wasn't uncommon for John) and troublesome, which had Brian Epstein wondering if he off-d them if they would be missed. Now, however, there was a slight improvement in their demeanors. No one was quite positive if it were the fresh spring or the arrival of the two lady friends. Either way, the Beatles would live another day.

Tonight the sky resembled a dark inky blue mess with great balls of light scattered haphazardly across its expanse. It truly was an amazing sight. Of late, George often found himself outside marveling at the beauty of the world above, now that the weather was reasonable of course. Which is how he came to be roaming around an unusually dark neighborhood with Annie.

He found himself going to great lengths to impress this girl who he had despised as a child. Now that they were older, he realized he had been missing out all of those years ago. She really was a special girl. He wasn't sure the extent of his feelings just yet but for now he was satisfied with just spending an evening with her.

"George, I'm not a big fan of surprises!"

"Hush now, not too much further."

She huffed indignantly and pinched his arm.

After a few more minutes of stumbling through the dark, George pulled her into a vacant, slightly overgrown field lit only by the moon and stars overhead. Smiling, he watched as she stared around the spot a tad bit confused.

"What's this?"

He pulled her towards the center of the area where a checkered blanket lay smoothed against the ground. He sat himself and pulled her into his lap. "This is where I come to get away from it all. It's a nice quiet spot that no one ever bothers coming to, save for me and now you. I like stargazing. Ever since Paul told me how he discovered this place when we were younger I'd come and just look to the stars."

She scoffed and could see his puzzled face in the moonlight. "Oh, not you! That's actually really nice." She placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "It's just that I'm the one who found this place, not him. I would come to it when—" She stopped abruptly and looked away. "I'd come to it when I wanted to be alone," she finally said in a quiet voice.

"Is something wrong?"

"No." She slid out of his lap and stretched across the blanket, dragging him down with her. "I like this."

"I do too," he said, lacing his fingers with hers.

For what seemed like hours the two sat in a hushed peace. The only sounds that could be heard were the steadiness of their breathing and the hum of cars passing on the highway a ways away. Annie absentmindedly traced a constellation with her finger, enjoying the current state of affairs she was in.

"Annie?" George propped himself on an elbow and glanced at her. Her wild hair was fanned about, creating an aura of beauty and tranquility.

"Hmm?" she inquired, hand stopped mid-trace.

"Tell me about yourself."

She sat up, never letting go of his hand. "What do you want to know?"

"Anything and everything."

Brow furrowed, she thought hard for a second. "Um, well me birthday is the twentieth of January. My favorite color is yellow. I'm a big Jane Austen fan. Shocking, I know," she added at the look on his face. "I'm not objected to Poe, though. I was a vegetarian for three months but that's nearly impossible to keep up with when you have a mum like mine. I studied to become a journalist. I used to play the guitar…I don't know what else to say."

He nodded slowly. "You played the guitar? Why'd you stop?"

"I dunno; I just didn't feel like doing it anymore." There was more to the reason but she was grateful he didn't press it. It was something no one knew, not even Cristina, and she wasn't about to tell George of all people.

"You should play sometime for me."

"I will if you will."

He smiled. There was something he wanted to tell her but he couldn't work up the courage to do it. When he was about to say it she stood and grinned.

"Tag, you're it!" She dashed across the field and turned to look at him.

"Annie!"

"Come and get me Georgie!"

Laughing he chased after her but her small stature made her much faster. She darted this way and that way, but never close enough for him to catch her. Occasionally she would dance just at the edge of his grasp but when he leaned forward she'd twirl away, unable to contain her glee.

Finally, though, George felt as if he had had enough. He leaned against the dilapidated fence and searched through the dense gloom that lingered in the air for a sign of red.

"Boo," a disembodied voice called from beside him. He nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Don't do that!"

"Did I scare you?" Annie smirked, leaning alongside the fence as well.

"You could've been a bloodthirsty zombie for all I know."

"I may be bloodthirsty but I'm no zombie." She stood on tiptoe and placed a kiss on the vital vein that resided in his neck.

He looked into her eyes, those oh so pretty gems that held the mystery of her being. Every single thought or feeling she had swum across the emerald sea and was made plain to anyone who dared peer into the depths, but it was always too far to fully comprehend. That's why she was so hard to crack- that indecipherable wall was always in place.

"Annie, I—"

His words were lost as a single fat drop of water plopped against his cheek. Annie wiped the moisture away with her finger and smiled as more came to take its place. The rain fell heavy now, drenching them both.

"Annie?" he tried again.

She turned to him, her eyes alive with joy. She kissed him on the lips and when she broke free she frolicked about the field and danced in the rain, something she told him she always wanted to do.

"I love you Annie Holloway," he whispered to the wind, a little defeated, before joining her.