2/2 Sorry that it's been a while since I've posted anything new, but school and work and everything else is getting in the way D: But school holidays are in a couple weeks, and I should be able to write plenty for this story. Thanks so much for every single comment you guys send, they really do make my day. Also, to answer a few questions: Sweeneysbestfriend I didn't name that chapter 'Getting Better', because I want the chapter names to be in that time period. So for now all the early song titles will be used, but I definitely have 'Getting Better' planned for a future chapter (: HermioneLennonI will for sure be doing a chapter in a different person's point of view, I was actually thinking either Paul's or Ringo's, most likely Paul's, though (: Once again, thanks so much for all the comments, and I hope you're all enjoying these chapters.

chapter twelve – if I fell

1964

Months had past, and A Hard Day's Night was released. The Beatles were now on their way to the after party, and George straightened his tie before stepping outside of the car into the cold, crisp air. He immediately rubbed his arms from the strength of the weather, which were now sore from all the people grabbing him at his sides. The crowd was loud, the screaming girls wailing their hearts out as he and the three other Beatles walked past. He grinned, giving them a quick wave, before being pushed into the warmth of the large lobby which he was grateful for. His eyes scanned the room mostly filled with people he had never met, and wondered how many of them had actually seen the movie, or here just to get a glimpse of the Beatles.

"Alright, boys, let's look a little more alive," said Brain, his hands neatly tucked behind his back. "You've just made your first film - let's look happy!"

George nodded meekly, not really paying attention to Brain at all. Eventually his mind had left him as Brain continued to talk about where they'd be sitting in the restaurant. George's head quickly snapped to the right when he saw her: Eleanor, her dark hair in neat, loose curls, her lips a light, natural colour and a pale pink dress wrapped around her body. John's hand rubbed her small shoulder, and his thoughts were cut off when he felt a nudge in his left shoulder.

"What?" He asked, turning to face Paul.

"Where's Pattie?" Paul asked.

He shrugged. "I don't bloody know."

"You said you were gonna be her date tonight, didn't ya?"

George sighed. "Yeah, and?"

Paul rolled his eyes. "Don't think she'd like it if you were staring at other birds like that."

George looked back at Eleanor and John before focusing his attention back on Paul. "Shut up, will ya? I'm tryin' to forget about 'er."

"Well stop lookin' at her." Came Paul's voice quick and harsh.

"Paul, honestly, you don't know what it's like to be in love." He explained.

Paul scoffed. "You ain't in love, you're just bloody infatuated."

George shook his head. "Paul, just don't."

Paul gripped George's shoulder, pulling him away from the large crowd. "George, how is this gonna help anyone? You're gonna break up Eleanor and John, breakup the fucking Beatles, and there's a good chance you ain't gonna have any mates left."

"It has nothing to do with you," George muttered. "I know you care about John, but that's a completely different story."

"Jesus Christ, what's got you so bloody crazy? She's a pretty bird, yeah, but she ain't fuckin' Brigitte."

George rolled his eyes. "Just... Just sod off. Thisis my business, right?"

"Fine, fuck it all up." Paul muttered before walking off.

George smiled when he saw Pattie walking up to him. "Pattie, darlin', how are you?"

She blushed, tucking a few strands of blonde hair behind her ear. "I'm fine, thank you. Yourself?" The two carried on conversing, with George eyeing Eleanor up every time he got the chance.

"George, I was wondering... Maybe we could, go out to the pictures, or something?" She whispered.

"What?" George asked, his mind was completely somewhere else.

Pattie bit her lip. "Pictures? Maybe? Together?"

"Oh," George said, feeling bad for not listening to her. "Can't exactly go down to the pictures anymore, luv." He smiled.

She blushed. "Oh, right. Almost forgot you were a Beatle."

He laughed. "Maybe a meal together?" He questioned, looking over at Eleanor once more, who seemed to be attached to hip with John tonight. She stared at him for a moment, giving him a small smile which he didn't return.

"Yeah, that sounds lovely." She smiled.

George couldn't help but let his mind wonder over to John's wife once more - this wasn't normal, you don't fall for one of your mate's wife. He stared at her once more, this time noticing that her eyes were firmly locked onto his own. She ran a hand through her hair two times, a signal they had thought of earlier if they wanted to speak to each other in private. George hesitated for a moment, but nodded once, which she did too. "Pattie, luv, I need to speak to Brian." He lied, walking off to where the bathrooms were.

He waited outside for a few minutes before Eleanor turned up. She smiled nervously, waving at him. "What did you wanna talk about?"

"Nothing really," she murmured, leaning against the wall. "I just missed you, really."

"Well that's your fault." He snapped.

She looked taken aback but continued. "You know why I did it."

George shook his head. "No, I bloody well don't-"

"I can't hurt John." She cut him off.

"You hurt me, though!" He yelled. "Ya can do that though, right?"

She sighed. "Don't do that, George. I didn't want to hurt anyone, I told you that."

"That's not possible, you have to!" George retorted.

"What am I supposed to do?" She asked.

George stepped closer to her. "I don't…What do you want?"

"I want John to love me, George," she murmured. "But I want you to love me too."

"You can't have us both." He groaned. He never knew how hard a relationship was going to be. He wanted her, she wanted John, but she also wanted him. How did that even work?

"Why not?" She shrugged. He scoffed and her eyes closed. "I mean…I know why, but – God, this is so hard."

George ran a hand through her hair. "Do you love me, Eleanor?" Her eyes remained closed, and she nodded slowly. He couldn't help but smile as he leaned down to meet her lips, kissing her gently. Her hands pulled on his tie and jacket, drawing him closer. It was a desperate kiss, the two of them were confused and lost, but were undeniably lovers. His hand traveled to her waist, wanting her even nearer.

"Oh, George," she whispered. "We can't do this here."

He pulled away slowly. "Stay with me tonight."

She looked up at him, stroking his cheeks. "I dunno…How will I…?"

"We'll work it," he said, gently kissing her.


"So you takin' Pattie home tonight, eh?" Paul asked.

"Who?" George asked, not paying attention to Paul.

"Pattie." He said.

"Oh, nah, not tonight. Don't think so." George shrugged.

"Eh? She's been starin' at you all night." Paul stated.

"Yeah but," he lost his voice when he caught a glimpse of Eleanor and John together. Pushing the image away, he continued. "I'd rather wait, you know?"

Paul raised an eyebrow. "If you say so." He said, puzzled. "So how's it coming with Eleanor?"

George instantly focused when he said her name. "What about her?"

Paul turned to face him. "You doin' what I said? You forgettin' about her?"

"Yeah, of course I am." He lied. "Got Pattie now, don't I?"

Paul smiled. "Yeah, she's great. You sure you don't wanna spend the night with her?"

George knew he was trying to encourage the two get more closer, but it just wasn't possible. Eleanor would always come first. "Positive."


"I can't believe he fell for it," groaned Eleanor, sitting on George's bed. "I feel terrible."

George gave her a soft smile. "Don't, hey. Honestly, you have nothing to feel bad about."

She forced a dry laugh. "Yeah, alright, George. This isn't a bad thing, hm? What we're doing?"

"You can leave if you want." He snapped.

She sighed. "I don't want to."

He sat by her, kissing her softly on the neck. "Eleanor luv, why do you feel bad? You shouldn't, really."

She stared at him. "You're kidding, right?"

"Eleanor," he started. "How many times has John hurt you? Christ, he's cheated on you every night for the last, what? Three, four years?"

"Don't," she whined. "Don't say that, why would you…Are you trying to hurt me?"

"No, darling," he said, resting his hand on her cheek. "But it's the truth, ain't it?"

She weakly nodded, lying down on the bed. "I understand that it's tempting, you know, having girls throw themselves at you." He moved so he was lying down also, so they were face to face. "I mean, you do it too, right?"

He bit his lip, not exactly proud of it. "Yeah, I do." He whispered. "I'm not married, though."

"I'm not too worked up about it, I get that it would be hard to control yourself." She explained. "I guess one or two times every now and then wouldn't be too bad. It would hurt, but it wouldn't be an absolute crime. But he constantly does it. I don't…I don't know what I'm doing wrong."

"Hey, don't talk like that. You aren't doing anything wrong." He aid quietly. "John's just…I don't know, really."

She nodded, closing her eyes. "I don't think he understands how much it hurts."

"You've told him, haven't you?" He questioned, playing with her hair, twirling the dark strands between his fingers.

"More like yelled at him, but yes, I've told him." She said.

"What does he say?"

She shrugged. "Usually he says it doesn't matter, but then he comes to his senses, I s'pose."

"You always forgive him, don't you?" He murmured. She nodded and he kissed her softly, wanting to take her pain away. He knew what they were doing was wrong, but it would make her better. He wanted her to be happy and feel loved, because she deserved it. He pulled away to speak. "I wrote a song for you." He whispered.

Her eyes widened and a smile spread across her face. "Really?"

He smiled, seeing the look on her face. "Yeah."

"Can I hear it?" She asked, excitement in her voice.

"No," he laughed.

"What?" She shrieked. "Why not?"

"It ain't done yet." He shrugged. "Gotta fix it a bit."

Her mouth closed and she hit him playfully. "Don't do that."

"What?" He smirked.

"Get me all riled up and let me down." She giggled.

"Riled up?" He snickered, his hand resting on her knee.

"Yes, George Harrison, you're terrible," she joked, grabbing his collar softly, pulling him close to her. "Make it up to me." She smiled.

He pulled back a moment. "You want me to…?"

"Make love to me?" She offered.

He blushed. "Yes, that."

"Please." She whispered.


Eleanor looked up at the ceiling, feeling several different emotions.

The first was anger. She was angry at herself. How did she let this happen? She was married. Married. But married people make mistakes, too. She was still pissed, though. She wasn't going to blame George, however.

She turned to face him, and the next rush of emotions hit her. The next was happiness. She smiled, thinking about last night. George made her feel special, like no one else mattered. She couldn't believe they had actually made love, but when it happened, it just felt right. Like it was meant to happen.

The third emotion was embarrassment. What was everyone going to say? She was certainly going to be known as a whore now. And what if all the fans found out? Surely she'd be killed. She was already receiving death threats.

When she stared down at her left hand, she felt the last emotion. Sadness. She looked at the ring on her finger, the ring that represented the love between her and John. It wasn't a lot of love, and she was sure it was going to die down soon. She couldn't do anything to stop it.