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06 September 2005 @ 07:48 pm
I'm so tired...  
Hey y'all. I wrote this one during world geography at my new school (I'm temporarily relocated cus of Hurricane Katrina)and im tired cus we have to wake up at five to get to school on time, so this ones not that good and the endings a peice of crap-o-la. yeah...

Title: Dunno. I can't think of one. My brain hurts
Arthour: Me, macca64
Rating: G, PG if you want it to be just cus its slash and theres a little eincy kiss
Pairing: P/G but you cant really tell at first
Summary: Paul's sick and George tells him something he's not supposed to know

You walk into his hotel room, worried about him. He’s sick with the gastric flu, spending half the time sick and the other half asleep in bed. You’re worried about him because he hasn’t been sleeping or eating much because of touring and that’s not helping him get any better. He’s sleeping now, but you still decide to go and visit him. There are get well cards all over his room. From fans, from friends, and from family members. You notice he looks very pale compared to the dark sheets that are over and under him. The moonlight decides to peek through the clouds, in which he looks a ghostly white. You watch him turn over, curled in a ball, facing you. You look at his baby face. You realize that he looks innocent, vulnerable, and beautiful all at the same time.
For a while now you’ve been looking at him differently. You have this strange sort of excited feeling whenever he walks into the room. Even when he gets frustrated during recording, or gets mad at you, you still feel happy around him, like he’s a drug that makes you high. But of coarse you don’t tell him this. You can’t tell anybody. For what? Fear of embarrassment. For the fear of losing a life long friend. You’ve known him since you were a young teen and you don’t want to break that special bond between the two of you. And mostly, you don’t want to get heartbroken when he says he doesn’t love you back. It hurts you just thinking about it.
So, since he is asleep, you might as well say something. You make your way to the door and quietly close it, making sure the others are still occupied. There they are, playing poker, but not as happily as usual due to their sick band mate.
You walk back to the chair next to his bed. You start saying how you’ve always enjoyed his friendship, how you lave the fact that he’s always there to comfort you when times get bad. You tell him that you’ll be there for him even though you’re pretty sure he can pull through on his own, or at least where a mask to where the others think he’s alright. You tell him that you love and care for him more than the others, more than a brother or a friend. You say to him that you wish he would love you the same way back, but that you doubt he does. You finish with saying “I love you” as you gently kiss him on his forehead.
You wipe a tear off your face as you turn away. You think about what you just said and when you turn back around, you see his big brown doe eyes staring back at you, also with tears forming in them, already falling down his face.
“George” he says to you, “I...I never knew.” His voice is hoarse due to the illness, but you still find it sexy. You say a silent prayer that he won’t be mad at you. You stare at him as his eyes gaze into yours. You turn away. ashamed at what you said. So you find something on your knee. It’s his hand, rough from years of playing guitar and bass, two of his God-given talents.
“Just pretend that never happened” you manage to croak out, holding back sobs. You push his hand off your knee and stand up, making your way back to the door. You have your hand on the doorknob when he says something that you can’t tell what it is. He says it again, “But I love you too.” And as if these words mean nothing to you, you leave, hearing him cry your name and heart breaking sobs that are your fault. But you just walk away and end up crying yourself.

so, comments rox. bad stuff doesn't but go easy on me before i fall on the keyboard. and if you see a bunh of letters or I'm not making sense, yeah im not drugged, just tired.
Current Mood: sleepysleepy
Current Music: nothing at the mo...im deprived!!!help me!!!
willy__wonka on September 7th, 2005 02:38 am (UTC)
That's really good! You don't see many fics in second person nowadays, do you?

I hope you're doing alright down there with the Hurricane!
whatsherass on September 7th, 2005 02:55 am (UTC)
Do you need some music? I'll send you some cds if you need them and tell me what you want... :)

p.s. your story is lovely, too!
Katie: georgewink - bonshaybonbonshaybon on September 7th, 2005 03:11 am (UTC)
*gasping* Why!? Why tease me with Paul/George and then have him leave!?!?

There needs to be hot sweaty man-love! Now!

... Please? *pouty-lip*

the heart collector: coldplay lyricssummersiren on September 7th, 2005 08:27 am (UTC)

Aww what is George thinking, he should've stayed with Paulie!! Oh well. Lovely indeed!
mikie_2 on September 7th, 2005 02:02 pm (UTC)

Thats great.^_^

But so sad.

pauli!poor pauli!:(
oddballer35oddballer35 on September 7th, 2005 10:41 pm (UTC)
So sad...*tear*
The story and Katrina, I mean. Good job and best of luck to anyone affected!
macca64macca64 on September 8th, 2005 12:43 am (UTC)
Thanks to all of y'all. I wrote it in that perspective because I like reading those when it seems that you're that person. And I don't know why I ended it that way. It just seemed right, I guess.

Well my parents went into town today to see my house and they said we didn't have any damage...phew! but thanks for thinking about me...
banburytalebanburytale on September 8th, 2005 11:30 pm (UTC)
What an odd sort of panic for George to go through...it felt authentic. Good job!
And I'm glad to hear that your house and family are OK. :)