literature

I Wanna Be Your Man Chp. 3

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Literature Text

By the time John and Paul came back into the room laughing, Ringo was past the crying and self pity. For some reason or other all he felt was numb.
John shoved Paul back into his chair, grinning. "Stay there and don't move." he warned teasingly.
Paul leaned back, comfortable. "Whatever. I'm good here."
John rolled his eyes and sat down himself. Both looked at Ringo, and suddenly his mood caught onto them. "Are you okay?" Paul asked, concerned.
"Where's George?" John added, looking at the door as if George would come walking back in. Ringo shrugged, as if he could care less.
Paul frowned at him. "Come on. You two were acting really queer before. What went down?"
Ringo glared at him when he said 'queer'. He spoke, not caring about his voice at the moment. "Don't say queer."
John looked at him quirkily. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing is wrong!" Ringo exploded. "And I don't know where George went! Go find him and ask him what's wrong!"
He closed his eyes, already regretting the words. Both men looked at him, surprised.
"Ringo-" Paul started, helpless.
"Stop," Ringo said, keeping his head down and eyes closed. "Just....go."
Paul opened his mouth to say something else, but John touched his arm lightly. He nodded towards the door. Paul's eyebrows quirked, but he followed him quietly out.
"What do you think is going on?" Paul burst the minute the door shut. "Ringo is nearly in tears. I don't know where George is." He looked at John, hoping for some answers.
John was quiet for a minute, punching the button to the elevator. "How would I know, Paul? I'd focus on finding George first."
Paul rolled his eyes, but didn't comment. Both were silent as they went downstairs, zipping up their jackets to try and hide their faces.
"Ready to go?" John asked as the elevator slowed.
"Ready as I'll ever be." Paul snorted. The doors opened and they strode out quickly.
The area wasn't crowded, but there were the reasonable amount of people there. Paul scanned the room, trying his best to spot George's tall frame against the stark white contrast. "You see him?"
"Maybe...." John murmured. "Oh, wait....never mind. Wasn't him. Let's look outside."
He led the way to the big doors, Paul jogging lightly behind him. Paul looked around outside, the cold wind nearly biting through his jacket. He shuddered and moved a bit closer to John. "John? I-I don't see him anywhere."
"Keep looking," John encouraged. "If he's not inside, he's got to b-be somewhere out here."
He clenched his jaw, trying to stop his teeth from chattering together. The wind wasn't the only thing keeping the weather cold. The temperature had to be close to freezing. He jabbed his hands in his pockets. God, he should've brought gloves!
Paul tugged on his sleeve, looking ridiculously childish. He pointed to the side of the building, far down. George was leaning against the wall, pulling deeply on a cigar and brooding.
John started walking forward, but Paul stopped him. "Let me talk to him." he muttered.
John raised an eyebrow. "How do you know he's gonna talk to you so willingly?"
"Does he ever come to you for problems?" Paul asked sarcastically. He shuddered again as another cold wind bit through him. "Trust me on this one." Without waiting for an answer, he walked past him.
George leaned his head back, closing his eyes. Paul heard John walk back inside, and he couldn't blame him. He leaned next to George, not quite knowing how to start asking the questions cluttering his head, meddling with his thoughts.
Finally, I got some more of this up! :party:
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